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“The one thing you shall not eat,
Can devour what you be.
The Red sweetness holds thee;
Core of poison, core of deceit.”

For many others without conscience tells,
They chant lies, they clang bells.
For power is not its conflict of corruption,
But a light to evil, a light of destruction.

Apple drops a head of thought.
Others, however, are long got.
For they have no will,
long gone they sought.

They boldly think, they blindly condemn,
Yet logic’s truth eludes each of them.
Because, presence wises the bird of them.

The worm that eats, the sweetness it brings.
The bird eats it so, masqueraded in wings.
For knowledge only gives moths light,
the tempt to corruption, arrogance flight.

And no told that numbers are right,
No knowledge of order, ultimate sight.
They chopped the apple tree, fuel it alight.
Now, they pay their price, their final blight.
If you think it’s knowledge that is poison, then your confidence fell into my trap. For the power of ignorance, hubris is inevitable.
They say,
"Ignorance is bliss."
Do you know why that is?
You're unaware of all the things you've "missed."

Things already in existence,
Things already happened,
Things happening;
That which is existing.

All that exists.
To reduce it,
We're all learning what 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 is.
Learning ignorance, decoding from it wisdom.

So what is it to be knowledgeable?
What is there that is knowledgeable?
What is knowledge?
Does intelligence exist?
What torture ignorance is!
When you treat ignorance as such,
Perhaps it is.
Being so ignorant,
I could see it.
For the foolishness of it
Is that it is the only route to wisdom!

In how we define it?
By how we describe it?
Of how we perceive it?

Perception birthing perspective,
Yet both products of their environment!
"Self-copulation?"

Of course, given context,
The definitions fluctuate.
So, then our perception of it
And thereby our descriptions of them,
Change or fluctuate also.

Like the rain falling.
Like ice forming.
Like water flowing.
Delineations on wisdom
Can be but delineations of ignorance!

Delineations of wisdom
Can be but disfigurations by the ignorant!

Is there a difference?

There is a difference!
How can it be proven?

It's true because 𝘐 said it!
Vista la Cappa porpora bruciata
dalla fiaccola del Mare uguale
e stufo della Corona che porto,
e con essa la prigionia, mi dissi:

or ora ** deciso:
lascerò alle fiere le mie stanche carni
ed alla tempesta i Lumi,
conservando avidamente
solo l'impura fiamma che strazia urlò:
"è l'ignoranza che porta al trono",


o almeno così avrei fatto se la mente
fosse timone dell'anima e il cuore
ridotto da un re assoluto ed invisibile
ad un ratto senza denti e ossa.

///

Having seen the purple Cape burned
by the torch of the equal Sea
and tired of the Crown that I wear,
and with it the captivity, I said to myself:

now I have decided:
I will leave my tired flesh to the beasts
and the Lights to the storm,
greedily preserving
only the impure flame that tears he shouted:
"it is ignorance that leads to the throne",

or at least I would have done so if the mind
were the rudder of the soul and the heart
reduced by an absolute and invisible king
to a rat without teeth and bones.
I'm not a King, I'm a leader
Many flames set asunder,
Each lighting the bark.
Many flames get its owns thunder,
Cracking the infinite dark.

It reshapes what is,
It annihilates what’s his.
God brought the light,
Men sought its might.

Each words carry meaning,
Each word burns the same.
Smoke riles thy beseeching tongue,
Sparking their ignorant flames.

They get crazy,
The crazy man.
It can said it talks,
But they never listen,
Stifling humanity’s walk.

They burn knowledge,
The very light they ate.
God punished not action,
But the poison apple, devils bait.

For now, no innocence sets entropy,
For stupidly of ignorant fools flame society,
Killing humanity’s last flame.

And now, darkness breaches realm,
As embers churn in rage, rage,
Against the dying of the  light.
The last of humanity, the last blight.
Gods wrath, now late, seeks no sight.

I rest here,
Could hope reset my dead ember?
I know not of eternity.
But I know it can be.
I had inspirations of knowledge, and the ever fight against ignorance that put the very flame of power in our hands. I got inspiration to use part of Dylan Thomas’s poem, “Do not go gentle in that good night,” as the fight is ever present today, as it must so. “The Crazy Man” also fits here, too.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 29
~
This forbidden city
walks on water,
keeps all the undesirables at bay,
it's always a balancing act.

Oh, blighted court
of Catherine the Great,
thy friends are having a hard time,
but horsing around, no less.

Enlightened by summer drugs,
and busting out of
their tops and castles,
thongs on thy feet,
and thongs on thy bottoms,
this zenith and this nadir
come in colorful collages,
everything else is a flash of flesh.

Sped along by
frequent bloodletting,
there's a revolution in
thy teenage mind,
a looking for the hidden
and interested motives,
but no one can live
their life on the skis.

Rulership of heart is far
from recreation,
but you raised
a smile to sin,
until all we could do was
shake our heads and laugh.

~
From the 'Checklist Before Commencing on a Dream.'

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4793791/checklist-before-commencing-on-a-dream/
Archer Mar 23
Don’t ask me
Because I don’t know
Which way the tree leans
When the wind blows
Yashika Mar 22
In the Depths of My Heart, You Reside

In the depths of my heart, you reside,
I wish to be with you, leaving everything aside.
I cry for you, don’t know why,
Maybe the reason is simple — you are mine.

I wonder if you miss me too,
The way I ache, the way I do.
You're in my dreams, my sleepless nights,
A silent shadow beneath the lights.

I want you to feel my breath, my pain,
Know my love isn’t just in vain.
You're in my prayers, in every plea,
Even when the world can't see.

I live with him, but my soul stays true,
Every beat whispers — it belongs to you.
I hate your ignorance, but I understand,
There's a reason you hold back your hand.

But a day will come, and I’ll be strong,
You’ll confirm what’s felt all along.
You'll say the words, and I’ll become —
The one you love, the one you come.

— For the love that waits
J Bjork Mar 18
Vices hold me in a grip
living is a ****** up game,
I mash buttons
until I bend and flip
breakdown, take another hit:
I’ve relinquished
my prime of life
wishing it was
someone else’s fault
that I’m stranded on this island,
this is why I succumb to
vices

It started as a wild ride
that turned into the spins
a religion of motion sickness,
wanting to stop
but always caving in:
it spirals through my mind
filling damage to the brim
emotions are meant
to process here,
now they only
dissipate in chagrin,
as rueful ignorance catapults
this living hell to
greater highlands
without having to lift a finger:
my self-inflicted violence,
a byproduct of
vices

Left with no
rationale to care,
only a small bend in time
where the spindle
came undone;
it's here I revel in
self-despair,
as a loser who
always failed to listen,
a captain without a vision
ready to drown in
cognitive dissonance
because it’s easier
to believe a lie
than to accept how life is:
where are my
vices?
02/24
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