My soul said to my spirit,
What is the real matter,
why won't mind stop the thinking?
The spirit replied,
It's not the why,
It's when will it,
It's how to end,
and the triggers begin.
The soul can understand yet
the mind cannot comprehend.
I'd somehow overheard the conversation,
told Ego, ergo. . .
it went north to Mind itself.
Mind raged when he heard all of these.
He stormed out of subconscious and went down
to fight with the two.
The three had a half day killing each other.
At the end, Heart stop for ten seconds.
You people can't get your bearings,
Must the user die before us,
So to know we still fall in line,
and wait til another host.
And what to start up again.
Fall in line people,
Next time, it will be flatline.
About the Creator
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli6 days ago in Poets
Standing Still
There are very few moments in life where time truly stands still. When your breath is taken from your chest and your body hangs weightless in that moment. Just long enough for it to stay with you from that day onwards. Deep in the red sands of the Australian Outback, I found that moment and clung to it forever.
By Kevin McLaughlin6 days ago in Wander
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