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pitch black god8 Aug 2018
~a question of a thousand dreams~^

“Where are you going now my love? Where will you be tomorrow? Will you bring me happiness?  Will you bring me sorrow? All the questions of a thousand dreams, what you do and what you see”

this one composes itself
for all dreams go unremembered
the first, the thousandth, the  every in between,
erased by the push button of opening eyes

but dreams come, marching in, saints mining the raw materiel
the quartermaster has stored, awaiting requisition by an
unarmed unnamed corp, witnessed but never seen

these dreams wisped soft willow budded, tempting taunting,
leaving nothing but unanswered questions that colored come
in black and white

elementary clues,
a pillow indentation,
single hair that stretches
across the sea between two pillows that is blonde or red  
but
certainly unmine,  
dregs of soured sentiment linger like the
aftertaste of too many coffees and stainless steel beers

heated summers breezes give no succor or relief,
and the rain following gives no pleasure,
for now you are hot and soaked,

but somewhere in there a dream is part replayed,
and eyes widening in major league surprise,
the question acknowledged, the dreams quest hinted  

she has gone, neither happiness or sorrow will she
provide on the morrow, no toweling of your wet hair fair,
and you awake sweat besotted, it is not rain, just pain,
and it is only one dream a thousand times repeated

and what you do and what you see
is the abraded night ahead, and
you bitter laugh, for there is no more other than to think,
the question answered, and you beg relief by
uttering
perchance to dream

3:49 pm

see the notes!!


someone accuses me of Plagiarism
because  I did not acknowledge that the quote in marks and Italics was from a famous song written 39 years ago

so here is my response to
“just saying”

congratulations on ******* me off
and yes I agree, you do not know the rules

“#1: Quotation Marks Are for Quoting People—Verbatim
Perhaps it should go without saying, but quotation marks are for quoting people. Quoting doesn’t mean summarizing or paraphrasing; it means repeating exactly what someone said. If you put double quotes around a phrase, your reader will often assume  that someone, somewhere, said that exact phrase or sentence.“

http://thevisualcommunicationguy.com/2013/09/11/10-things-you-really-need-to-know-about-quotation-marks/
lyric  from “Carry On”
by Crosby Stills Nash and Young

which is why it is in quotation marks

but you knew that already

my god strikes me dead ic I ever plagiarized in my life; no splotches of apologies needed
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
Everything in quotations marks and italics was written by TS Eliot.

eyes knowing glossy men,
sheer women, creatures,
not all artists, but artists,
always thus,
centrifugal, simple

from their core,
emanate, resonate,
expand the exterior
with interior precision sculpting

to the interior delve,
via brush or limb,
pen or music,
the exposition, the exploration,
the reconstruction of composing
one's self, creation and destruction
of your own myths

movement of arms and legs,
sparseness of simplicity
subsidiaries of centricity,
tributaries of complexity,
oriented to their locality

the simple purpose of inhalation,
to exhale, after transformation,
the calculus of thought into emotion:

"the tongues of flame are in-folded
into the crowned knot of fire and
the fire and rose are one"


the dancers hear the music:

"so deeply that it is not heard at all,
but you are the music
while the music lasts."


**”Quick now, here, now always –
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well"
"Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." T.S. Eliot (1888 - 1965)

Inspired this evening by the Martha Graham Company, the words and wisdom of TS Eliot, from whom she took inspiration in her choreography of modern dance
Russell Douglas Feb 2010
A Verse In Time: A Trickster’s Alchemical Approach to Memory in Three Waves

(Warning: The following collection contains depictions of three waves
of the psychedelic experience—particularly with God’s allies, Los Aliados, the mushrooms—and like the psychedelic experience each wave possesses its own waves within itself.  Ride with discretion.)

.

Wave I: The Allies’ Nursery Rhyme

The Allies
came to visit
and take me
on a trip.
No need for boat
or bus
or plane
or even rocket ship.
The galaxy, as they explained
resides inside your mind,
The portals to the universe
are windows you call eyes.
Instead of always looking out
you should try to look within.
The ending you have always feared
is exactly where you begin.

Yes, all the spans of time and space
exist in you behind your face
and yet you cannot understand
that nothing is a race.

Oh wait, please be careful with that mirror
when we are here and you draw nearer.
Don’t let the face of everyone replace your face with fear.
You are Horus, Mary, Jesus Christ, Cervantes, and Shakespeare,
and all the men from beast to mice, from oceans down to tears.

And so they pried behind my face
and pushed me on through outer space
and soon enough I understood
there never was a race.

It all exists right here, right now—
the past, the future, the grass, the cow,
the vast, the nature, the cash, the house,
the king and the savior
the beast and the mouse
are all your creation,
your relation,
your spouse,
your Path,
your Bible,
your ‘Gita,
your Tao.

It is all
of your moment,
It is all
of your now.

For you are the mystery
of that which you seek.
You invented the minutes, the hours, the weeks,
the deserts, the rivers, the valleys, and peaks,
your digits, extremities, elbows, and knees.
You created the cure, you invent the disease.
The labyrinth is you and
You defeat it with ease.
To master the Minotaur just follow the string
Discover the dinosaur, discover the king,
discover this grandiose song that you sing,
and uncover the truth of the message you bring
when you ring bells or

Stroke piano keys
and make the doctor sweat.
The pranksters shifting shapes again,
it’s time to make a bet.
With silly laws of threes and fives, this riddle I repeat, replies
that by the time the rhyme is over, the trickster will arrive.
Gliding up in cycles by, the prankster grins and winks his eye.
He fabricates a fluffy fix with fuzzy snow white lies
to bring the doctor to a six then down to four inside
and bring the tempest to a wave
on which the four can ride.

Do we glide?
Do we slide?
Do we fly really high?
Do we bobble and sink
with the rise of the tide?

I remember the brink
the cellular stride, the following leap,
the primitive mind
I remember the dirt, the water, the fire,
the wind and the ether,
the passion, desire.
I remember that art
can never expire.

Do we depart?
Do we retire?

The answer is yes,
The answer is no,
The answer’s the same wherever you go.
It’s never too fast,
it’s never too slow
and you are never the last to not really know.
For the sun always shines,
the moon always glows,
the old always die,
the young always grow,
The seeds that you plant
are the trees that you sow,
from the bees and the ants
to the bulls and
black holes.

It is all
in your stance.
It is all
in your
soul,

When you follow your dance
the bliss
takes control.
Take your place
in the play
and master
your role.
The Aum
is your home
it’s inside
of your dome,
Whatever
you wonder,
Wherever
you roam.

And so it flows behind my face
the universe of time and space
Now I understand that time
is invented as the race

Yes, you are Borges, and Buddha, and Krishna,
and Lorca, and Vishnu, Dickinson, Lennon,
Eliot, Gandhi, Marley, McKenna,
Campbell, Picasso, Alpha, Omega.
You are your enemy,
your stranger,
your neighbor.
You are the peasant,
the king,
and the savior,
the mandala man,
the cosmic *******.
You are the taste
You are the flavor
and you are
the wave
the unwavering
Creator

Even us
as they explained
merely extend from you
A mirror to the macrocosm
for you to gaze into.




So when you get lost
within your lies
and cannot find
your rhyme,
Gather inside with your
Allies
and master
the maze
of
time.


Wave II: Contemplating The Allies’ Advice

Thunderbolts of cackling giggles
shutter through your vitals, shaking shoulders
and squirting tears from squinting eyes.
Exciting when dimensions hidden creep into your line of vision,
morphing mapping iridescence with a fleeting fuzzy phosphorescent
undulating elfin presence following your every contemplation.

Concentrating on a caterpillar crawling up the wall
how curious, this furry beast has fingers not to fall.
He folds into his fuzzy form, a sleeping bag to keep him warm,
a little home as still as lead.  He hibernates and contemplates,
waits and waits and transmutates into a gilded butterfly
that flutters through my head.

Violet translucent landscapes bleed through grass and trees,
focus on a precise place of time and space and witness the birth of the human race.  Projections made in fuzzy fourth dimensions quickly fade
if your gaze should wander.  Positioned to ponder,
you plunge into prepubescent wonder as a shooting star splits the sky wide open revealing heaven and everything under the sun is tune and the sun is eclipsed by the moon.  And once again, the music comments chronologically on your moments, as if all these notes and lyrics were cataloged to sync with the scenes of your epic voyage.

Destroying contemplation again, the sea ***** the wind through the trees
and blows a blue marine breeze through your hair.
Do you dare take the time to recognize the punctuality of the gale?
Should your frail and fragile mind be dangled from a line
to flap and fluff and figure out the nature of the rhyme of our mother?
You are your brother, your keeper, and your lover.

All the lines align and oscillate in cadenced flow,
the more you see with your mind the more your mind will know.  
A ****** brain may strain and throw a fit
if faced with the tricky truth of the third eye
Surprise! Who knew that Jesus Christ could sprout from cow ****?
Can you believe it?  Wow, Bob, wow.
Where do you think we got: ******* and holy cow?
Heaven is the here and now
and every time you try to leave
you lose what you have found.

(* All words in italics come from    
   various songs, films, works of        
   literature, etc. and are not the words    
  of the author.)


Wave III: Los Aliados Wake

An apple carries a story deeper than the tree,
More nourishing than the luscious skin,
More central than the seed.
for the apple gave original sin
and knowledge from within
and fell upon the head, announcing gravity.
Have you ever heard the tale of Johnny Melon seed?
(The apple is global, so I wonder why,
what could be patriotic of pie?
Is it not just a strudel,
a pastry disguised?)

The colors we create
distort. manipulate.
The fools who follow fear
are doomed to find their fate
between their ears
where the colors seem
to blend and stream
and almost disappear.
To wonder why we’re here
all colors must appear
and merge into the blinding light
that obliterates our fear.

All your dreams, your fantasies, your symbols, and beliefs,
all a compass pointing you to endless mystery.
The treasure that you seek
resides inside the Self,
A jewel within the rock,
A book upon the shelf.


I bought the ticket,
I’m taking the ride.
I’m spiraling miles through the bowels of time.
I’m spinning and laughing
and losing my mind
and finding
it always returns
just in time.
It’s right where it left me,
so I’ll leave it behind
and return when
I’m ready
to relish the ride
with a bite
from the apple
of my
holy
third
eye.
⭐️

Step I -⭐️
As you can see I have used a ⭐️above
(we can use any character/number /alphabet)

Step 2- use return key

Step 3- The poem in asterisk , which remains the same
for
italics
bold
bold-italics

Step 4- use return key

Step 5- again the character(⭐️) it could be anything

And there you get the poem in desired fonts .
I tried this in my drafts on Hp and yes it works .

Happy posting


⭐️
Step1 ~

Step2  return key

Step 3 *poem*

Step4 return key

Step5 ~

Thanks Kim for giving the sun here .
I just so hope whatever I tried , should be of help to all my friends on HP.
It would bring me immense happiness if it works for you all.

My abilities in explaining is limited, I have tried putting the steps in notes too


We could use any of these signs ~ !  # .
I just hope it works for you my friends .
The devices that I have been using  are my iPad iPhone MacBook.
Homunculus Dec 2015
Writing always seems more urgent
When it's written in italics,
Even when the topic,
Is rather mundane.
Consider this example:
I like to eat sandwiches

Furthermore, everything
Seems much more urgent,
When written in bold font,
We revisit the example:
I like to eat sandwiches

...and a step even further,
Writing seems absolutely
Crucial when written in,
Bold font, with caps-lock,
Once again, we recapitulate:
I LIKE TO EAT SANDWICHES

At this point, it seems as though
I am imparting unto you matters
Of the utmost severity, that could
Be the difference between life and death,
...but really, I just like sandwiches.

This amuses me.
ryn Nov 2015
Hear ye!
Hear ye!
Oh how I love concrete poetry!
Itching to write and sculpt and mould.
Twiddle my thumbs as I thought to myself silently.
Reckon I'd render my musings in italics and in bold!

Hear ye!
Hear ye!
30 days of concrete, wouldn't you fancy?!
These poems, they come in various shapes.
Would you consider them "poetic eye candy"?
If I fashioned poems to look like grapes!

Hear ye!
Hear ye!
Awashed with excitement!
I can't wait to share!
Fantastical, delicious and ultimately succulent!
A wonderful spread of such wordy fare!

Hear ye!
Hear ye!*
When is this... GREAT BIG AFFAIR?
On the morrow, I'll dish out the first serving!
Do tune in if you so do care...
30 days of concrete! The shape fest is beginning!
Greetings! I will be posting a concrete poem each day for the next 30 days. It's a huge undertaking and I'm really pumped up about it! Stay tuned... :)
.
agdp Feb 2010
stethoscope to this chest reading one of these "dubs"
as captions to italics  sometimes, we lead
too patient lives, one as receptive the second as disruptive
covertly, convertedso to alleviate, vindicate
these dial tones
exchanged -so to compliment- verses in the clarity
of LP vinyl tracks
posture within degrees
to hear a “Hello?”
2/8/10 ©AGDP
Crippled letters of mass destruction
Split my globe in two
A left hemisphere full of right handed clones
A right hemisphere brimming with sweethearts

It's so warm down south
Where fingers search
For life in the bog
Ah, there in the shallows
I found your frog
skyblueandblack Oct 2014
You weave your stories like the night,
stringing the moon with the stars;
the finest of pristine pearls,
threaded by twilight.

Weaving the finest Varanasi silk
with life as your celestial loom;
laying down gold- and silver-threaded brocade,
dormant gardens burst in bloom.

Your pen is the philosopher’s stone
turning lead hearts into gold;
manipulating structure in stunning stanzas,
inscribing on hearts in italics and bold.

Nodding in acquiescence
the sages of the ages,
will then add your magnum opus
to their papyraceous pages.
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2013
Dear friends,

Outward we go, outward to the vast infinity, the great mother ship of all entities, past present and future.
Outward to the cold reality of limitless space where pinpricks of light reflect time which began a million years past.

The great unknown where for eons, since man descended from the trees, his very hopes dreams and prayers have been directed.

Beyond the maelstrom of the sun's living cauldron, beyond the titanic violence of coronal outforce, there lies a false calm. A vacuum of seeming emptiness which harbours a promise of galactic peacefulness but delivers the potential likelihood of eternal, calamitous catastrophe.

This is the realm where God's and Devil's reside.
This is the realm of unimaginable forces and stupendous violence.
This is, at once, our hope and our damnation...
THIS IS THE UNIVERSE.

This is the realm where man has sought communication as long as he has been able.... With utter futility.
For all of his advances in technology, his network of huge radio telescopes, his continuous Asceti transmissions, the development of the World Wide Web, the orbiting space station, the wonderful Hubbard telescope and his advances in space exploration and travel....THERE HAS BEEN NO REPONSE FROM OUT THERE.
SO WHY IS IT THAT MAN HAS HAD NO COMMUNICATION FROM SPACE?

And of time..eternal time ....anticipated as tomorrow. Retrieved as the now and dispensed to the yesterday. Are all three interpretations valid as manifestations of time or are the tones of future and past merely renditions of the actuality...the present?  If that is so how can the light of the stars, emitted so many eons ago, be seen right now as a reflection of the actuality of real time? Has time stretched or are the factors of space distance and time linked entities?

Is eternity a factor of time and space or is there another spectrum. Another source creating equilibrium in the quantum flux? Is size a factor... Is our solar system a submicroscopic nutrino attached to an atom on the **** of an incredibly slow living, gargantuan, multi universe sized ant?
.
..and if this is so...There's no wonder that there have been no replies to our efforts to communicate
...We are infintesimal.....Nobody can find us!

Serenely in the morning air, magnificence defies
Predictions of catastrophe from those whose word implies
That chance, that willing player, who skirts around the scene,
Would show her cards, calamitously, to render doom obscene.
....But for now the peacefulness and order everywhere
Has lovers in the lane ways and laughter in the air,
Has Autumn leaves cascading and white caps on the bay
With balmy clouds in blue skies to reflect this perfect day.

(Though....Forever now humanity could decry me as a brute
For I have, inadvertantly, crushed that ant beneath my boot!)



Marshalg
Looking up through the cold clear night air at 'Foxglove', through the myriad of crystal stars...and beyond.
27 January 2013

A word of explanation: The poem in italics depicts a scene of normality in the big picture, the megamacro world out there, where, like us, they have their own insecurities, their own great unknowns....and like our world, way down here, it is a place where accidents can happen!
Mg.
Kara Goss Oct 2012
skipped the chapters in the book of love
you on page one
swang from the rafters with the morning dove
rise the evening sun
my letters were bolded
yours were second best to none
more italics and stressed sentences
you a peaceful minded friend
more than previous pronoun
promised to the end
you on stages of laughter
agreement to disagree
me, i went past the laughter
straight fits of arguing
apologies and sorries
lead me into these trees
promise not to skip the page without you next to me
David Williams Jun 2011
I computer

Woken, I push my start button and reboot to the shower
For breakfast a bowl of italics, **** no milk, memory needs upgrading
Then to my automated job in my automated life
My thoughts are in word ,then filed in documents
My moods change with every toolbar, features and characters
I choose daily from my vast database
At 8.59 and 58 seconds precisely I am surfing
That vast blackness of space, I am never alone
Our names are inscribed on the dark side of the moon
On the super highway at full throttle of 32mb
My attention was distracted by a **** blue from clip art
Suddenly I did not see a stationary font (size 28)
After the crash they laid me out on a spreadsheet
My life deleted, my soul sent to the recycle bin.

— The End —