Qw3rty's Qubits

[Qw3rty]

<a name="#index"> Index </a>

<a href="#001"> Margins </a>
<a href="#002"> Dreaming Confused </a>
<a href="#003"> Following the Lost </a>
<a href="#004"> Optical Illusions </a>
<a href="#005"> Belief </a>
<a href="#006"> Connection </a>

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<a name="#001">Margins</a>

You spy a wondrous innocent in view,
Such delight shown on a face where all is new.
You marvel at the world, the charm of youth
Incongruent with the bitterness of life's truth.

You keenly share the joy of a child at play,
To recapture faith and hope all in this way.
An insight into when it once was good;
When all seemed to exist just a it should.

You catch a smile play across your face,
And briefly you've escaped from pressures race.
At once a flood of joyous memories,
But not enough for your apathy to ease.

You study the wild abandon of their gait,
Such temporary reprieve from all your hate.
Perchance you'll even notice now the day,
The morning light to help you on your way.

You realise now the glare from several others,
Such fear within, it you then all but smothers.
You wonder now, how can they you revile,
And know then; taken as a paedophile.

Coarse reality then snatches at tranquillity,
Presumption lacks knowledge of your nobility.
Your one release now tainted by life's ills,
Societies constraints; such bitter pills.

Conformity to social views eschewed,
Escape from 'neath the cloud is what's pursued.
Your so called faith in us takes one more dent,
Though the time is near where none seek to repent!
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<a name="#002">Dreaming Confused</a>

Last night alone and when asleep,
I saw a world so clean and cool.
I had a dream, a dream so deep,
No beggars, no tramps to play the fool.

As I looked at the ranging throng,
The faces of whom I couldn't imagine.
There was a sense of unnatural wrong,
Their movements all but lacking passion.

To look up and see the sky,
No cloud to break and no wind blowing.
A blue picture a mile high,
A lovely scene, the gold sun glowing.

The grass was green and flowers red,
No change in colour in all I had seen.
Fluorescence in even those things dead,
A bright reminder of what had been.

And what of children in this land,
Adults seemed prolific in all directions.
I counted not one cherubs hand,
The adults by chance a diseased infection?

They moved about their daily lives,
Enacting jobs and reading being.
Yet they began to seem contrived,
No hint of minds intellect for freeing.

I swooped down lower like a hunting bird,
The clearer view dampening my confusion.
Nothing prepared me for what I heard,
The dream itself was no illusion.

No children played, no flowers faded,
Identical visages on legs flowed past me.
Moving into a see I waded,
Are these people really free?

No children are to be born here at all,
Adults churn unending from the Plant.
And the rain is to never again fall,
Progress like a Shamans chant.

The sky is tinted, the flowers painted,
All I can see and hear is contrived.
The life that exudes people feels tainted,
Is this the point at which we have arrived?

Control of the heavens, of life and of birth,
The masters at work dabbling in direction
What has been achieved is nothing of worth,
My dream ended; the futures prevention?
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<a name="#003">Following the Lost</a>

My skin gave off the glow of tarnish,
Perceptions were now clouded.
In vain hope that this would lessen,
My heart was always shrouded.

Too late I saw the obvious signs,
True nature not apparent.
I then percieved a fault with me,
So could no let shine my talent.

But still they seemed to zero in,
My blending not well practiced.
To hide became my little game,
But how easily they cracked this.

How could I be so vastly different,
All seemed to be so similar.
Yet singled out I always was,
This setting so familiar.

I changed...I toughened,
I sought to break into them.
They recoiled or chuckled,
....I was angry with the world of men.

The years of youth had passed,
A man from boy had grown.
The setting of my final mould,
My true self all but flown.

When one day it happened,
From a crack I had not known.
The world all fell appart,
But for a reason none had shown.

My sculpted self imploded,
The toughness just implied.
One simple event unfolded,
Killing all that I had tried.

Shattered, torn and lost,
I wondered round inside.
But I stumbled on my saviour,
Which I had forced to hide.

Reunited with my true selfs face,
My strength I slowly gained.
The hate I'd shown for all these years,
Was all a man I'd feined.

Feel free to preach your hearts true song,
Let others stand and listen,
They'll shout and scream that you are wrong.
But watch their eyes all glisten.
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<a name="#004">Optical Illusions</a>

Seeming gentleness in this mans nature is beheld.
Awoken with the dripping moisture of condensed breath.
Appearance well presented with abode.
Repeated lamentations crying out for death.

Helpful to a fault in others management he moves.
Bloodied nails lifting from swollen housing and surround.
What more of our friends nature must we still prove?
Soulful seepings, pitied by the rocks, resound.

Charity providing clarity for his steadfast good.
Hot fluids run corrosively from her swollen flower.
Troubled with impossible still try he surely would.
Long lost in pains grip is memory to not cower.

A glowing smile to light a thousand evening skies.
Formless sockets left to imagine what light leached.
Good humoured wit to tender enemies demise.
Pernicious colds invading army already reached.

Socially adept accepted as a "pleasant fellow".
Occasional rising acrid stench another fit causes.
Always gratifying anecdotes with laughter's bellow.
The creaking hinge response is tense and movement pauses.

Away from prying eyes his inner self emerges,
Though blinded and confused away from him she stumbles,
Excited by his preys distress he moves to free his urges,
Picking up his whipping belt "come over here" he mumbles.

With surgeons touch inflicting dark red rain,
Cognition of surroundings dwindling from mind,
Arousals crescendo building with each sign of pain,
Total immersion within self seeks to find.

Weary he uncouples from what brief amusement gleaned,
The titan of her mind his piercing sword has slain,
External image changed as if from practice preened,
Once more on bred naivety we squarely lay the blame.
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<a name="#005">Belief</a>

I see a cold man grasping at warmth like a sponge seeking water,
Trembling on the dark, damp timbers of his chosen bed.
You see a pungent, invading beast encroaching in your eden,
A blotch on your pristine canvas; no more than living dead.

The world as a bath in which to shed your tainted skin,
Purging the productive mistakes and intentional excess.
Faultless in blame; wax to watery reservations,
No balance or even-handedness without cry for redress.

Erudite in direction like this great ships figurehead,
No allowance for pause. Or question. Or delay.
Giving reasoning as reason and hope as solid foundation,
Underpinnings collapse leaving mourners to pray.

Selfish imitation of the hunter squandering his ample quarry,
Allowing those in need to squawk and caw as buzzards so primitive.
The purifying importance of responsibilities too large,
Deliberate complications to confuse and confound the inquisitive.

Time will not be blinkered by attempts at spin and distortion,
Truth breaks through like shooting light over a horizon of ignorance.
Look deep into the well of you being for the chorus of your soul,
Its song invincible to the pressure of conformities glance.

So I see a cold man grasping at warmth like a sponge seeking water,
Trembling on the dark, damp timbers of your chosen bed.
You gaze confused at your shivering fingers and forlorn at your eden,
My belief has held true and your crusade is now dead.
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<a name="#006"> Connection </a>

A fleeting infusion of seeming infinite presence awakens,
At first this vast compendium of energy dances on a cusp,
Tempting promises of hallowed perspective gleaned, yet,
All the while distancing as some churlish flirting form.
Inspiring the strobe of intellects most chaotic fire, ironic then,
For only a calm, like recently departed can muster,
Will allow grasped at perceptions fruition.

Imperceptible, the thinning of minds encapsulating sheath,
But known with the joys of a trumpeting chorus song,
Is the knowledge of hoped chance encounter reaped.
Excitement unbounded leaps with an enveloping charge,
As if lightning's real face has been uncovered in all,
Only to be dashed like hope on death,
with this myopic haze when clarity cries for welcome.

When I touch but the wisp of promises out of reach, my feelings,
at least in this trapped and indentured apprentice form,
Both cry and laugh aloud as if madness came from ether itself.
Incipient in such joyous occasion lies balance in measures shape and,
on comparison with this our larval form, the well of sorrow,
dug by the chained gangs of tempered want, cannot be filled.

These times felt the weight of physical existence, evaporate,
Some Einsteinien game of perception and feeling played out at expense of self.
Blindfolded, stumbling with no help from what is sought.
For do I recognise signs of need in some as far removed from me,
as I from my quests quarry am? Straining now,
the bridge of this understanding bares no more weight,
I have yet to glean insight of even insects need.

Does this phantom of my night know my chase and torment? Perhaps.
A willing bait keeping my Ahab's fire stoked,
ever onwards,
ever out of reach.

On cherished memories I dwindle still like twilights last light,
with faint stand against the creeping mass of darkness.
Wonderment of these simple scenes imbues such awesome delight,
mirrored by pleasures glanced flowing 'cross cherubic visage.
When found, space of existential knowledge brings wonder of limitless experience,
not to touch or see or hear but to know the very basis of being.
That intricate weave of cloth that carries all along their private path.

I knew the birth of this universe,
some old friend's anecdotal tale much repeated.
And stayed a while as this creations history swept past,
an endless mural splashing colour on my senses,
with thoughts from found companions giving peace...
...and gone when linear form onslaughts my balanced enlightenment.
I yearn again...
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How the sweet memories of yesteryear,
Infinite as the dust they collect,
Become waylaid by minor instances of hurt,
Attracting weight like sodden shoes through mud.

A life once rich, diverse in thought and wonder,
releasing warmth and light through gloomy times.
Eschewed through guilt, ensconced in pain and retribution,
To radiate cold from deep seeded angst within.

How attention turns, from joy in merely being,
to focus in on a simple thread so small.
The weave of life, resplendent in its nature,
Forsaken fully to pursue that cause so marred.

So unbalanced then is the pain that's caused,
With gleeful want in the crusading folly then begun.
When proffered up against those private worlds,
such wealth, a lifetime sacrificed in conjuring.

[heinzs]

I've started you in your post so you can edit it. Using the edit window you can see how the html tags are set up so that you have an interactive index and a return.

Cheers!

Heinz

[GoddessErika]

<center>No edit needed 9/12/2005 ~GoddessErika</center>

[heinzs]

alphabetizing