Every dawning day
My hands fill with sticky clay
A substance resistant to shape
One that defies my will to make
My hands are traitors
Beasts of pain and failure
Tools of necessity
Rotten through with mediocrity
The world by mov
Poems or random stories with no context. I will just run with an idea or a group of words and see where it goes. No format or predetermined rules, just ideas.
Every dawning day
My hands fill with sticky clay
A substance resistant to shape
One that defies my will to make
My hands are traitors
Beasts of pain and failure
Tools of necessity
Rotten through with mediocrity
Your broken decrepit minds
Ancient in all but time
Burn life away like flies
While drowning the overburdened skies
A generation of greed
Left us all their ashes burned from trees
Bending our systems to fit your need
Destroying lives to find your keys
Warping the Fortune of all
With humanities stolen call
Your lives of squandered wealth
Only serve to hinder worldwide health
Your desire the source of turmoil
A hunger for your own rotting stench
A future fueled by stolen oil
Destroyed in your desire to quench
Sit there you may
As the world breaks
As it falls from your life’s decay
While you sit amid the bloodied lakes
On you lands the blame
In your hands was the seed
From your life was built the flame
That devoured the world in greed
Just as darkness fuels despair
A man lost is well aware
That he built his binding lair
And his chains are locked by lack of care
Fueled by fear of change
He built unyielding chains
Mentally barred by a willful stain
His life held back by thoughts so vain
Darkness bred to fight his life
To bring order to perceived strife
Choked his mind and sight
His fear warping wrong and right
As time goes by it becomes harder and harder to trust my senses, to know exactly how and why my body reacts to the world. My interpretation changes by the second and some days it’s impossible to keep up. Each sense working on a scale that changes with every new piece of information I gleam from it, a drastically fast kaleidoscope of broken images and feelings. Brighter lights, clearer sounds, sharper temperatures, and a swaying scope of scale attack me constantly, wearing at my view of the world. Each shift defines a whole new set of actions and reactions to reinvent, a constant game of mix and match, find the value, adjust and prefix.
Check my vision, watch for space, rescope distance and speed. Always a broken game, a losing battle against a shattered brain. Skills that wain faster than their use, moments of clarity that set me free. Moments by which my motivation flys, a vision of broken skies and solid ground. The heavens lost, confounded in their great scope, with solid burning ground screaming it’s putrid truth.
Watch the scale
A distance around you
Measure the falling hail
Shattered parts in view
Leaving burning trails
Make your perspective true
Your center motion rail
Feel each push pass through
Moving you by sail
Shaking you broken and skewed
Counter actions or fail
Reaction and survival impromptu
A new sound prevails
The world coloured in blue
Cracking foundations hollow and frail
Prefix the action in due
Lest you end with an action designed to fail
A motion written in the best of truth
Hear your dreams
Become a master of seams
Find the open lost scenes
Hidden behind noise that screams
Hear the space
Watch it race
Rushing into place
Ending with a blasting face
Hear it’s words
Know what they hold
Waiting for time to scold
Teaching a lesson of life gone cold
Hear the shatter
A pattern of broken plaster
Each its own single splatter
Tearing through space and matter
Men define their world
With a mind short of pure design
A preemptive idea of hot and cold
Flying truth a feature undefined
Vision is but an image to hold
Ideas forming the world they find
A broken game for time to mold
Perception built to define the sane
Reflect the world my light
Show the feature rich world in sight
Shape it’s contours just right
Bleeding edges of colors fight
A diming future for all of life
Brighten to fight the waxing night
A future doomed with unbending might
My vision all but burning bright
Fighting the deadend fright
Colours burn the world alike
A feature rich landscape a colours flight
Future defined in shock
Escaping it’s tiny case
Defile the world’s own flock
Energy caught mid race
A sweeping ripple
The true mass effect
Minds defined as simple
Finding a rhythms catch
Minds think alike
Marking time by light
The years an open mic
Devoured by motions fight
Minds all but lost
Defining their own shape
Man’s folly the final cost
Their will of patterns make
All a cascading filter
The made lost defect
Each their own trickster
Trapped by what they deflect
Energy moving mind
The fever pitch of life
A companion found in time
Defining futures strife
A burning maxim defined
The fire behind clouded eyes
Flowing forth in kind
A future of intersecting skies
Words spoken by kin
A rule made to bend
The burned idea in sin
Truth the masters lend
Define a man within
A seeker of life in flux
Broken by evils whim
A sleeper in rivers rush
Fire consumes the tool
Breaking an ashen wake
Mans broken rule
Fire for life’s stolen sake
Stitch and remix
Grab reality and affix
Attached with a masculine grip
Build the stars as you see fit
A world built from the seam you split
Take each step in time
A momentary peace sign
Each breath marking the rhyme
A score for the all encompassing lines
The ordered rows staying aligned
Make a feminine task
A mothers fearsome grasp
By which a world is clasped
Through which we all see our past
The touch of those long passed
Define the forbidden mark
By which all men will march
Holding back the fear so stark
The edge by which death embarks
A symbol of men amongst the stars
You build a world with many parts
Both power and fear to start
Your fear in your lack of skillful art
And having the power to give your heart
To know you freedom is torn apart
Behold, world grows beyond you
It makes its own hold for truth
Taking steps to deny it’s past youth
And rid itself of the carrion brutes
Those who are themselves new
Traverse the lands brink
Across every world link
Each defined and distinct
Making broad skies blink
A world by which minds are made
Through it lines can fade
Boundaries defined melt away
And lay to waste mans decay
A global force for uniting
For connecting those dividing
And to thwart those in hiding
A web of that needs defining
Make of it what you will
This miasma of man’s own skill
A putrid sensational boil
Of man’s own turmoil
The world shakes
As the morning wakes
To a shattered fate
A mourning mate
The aftermath of lives past
Their tortured mind all but ash
Drawn out over static facts
A bed of nails and wax
The missing middle strand
Ideas echoing so grand
The voice a master’s hand
A trinket from dreamland
Their missing mental half
A hold on realities match
Lost between here and that
Burning skin touched by facts
Find me motion defined
A motion that shows its mind
Staying within lines predefined
Reactions by which life can bind
Find me a word stuck in time
That shows meaning through design
The word a beating heart against a flatline
Showing itself through a motion defined
Show me where the world lies
On the brink of two torn lines
Lines built on what motion defines
Motion derived from lidded minds
Teach me moving truth
By which our minds find youth
In tandem our lost bodies move
Our thinking towards something new
Take notice of the moving world around you. By the interactions we and the world around us has, we build the future, just as the present was built by the past. Watch, and learn. The world wants to teach. It has wonders and mysteries in every inconsequential action, areas of study not yet conceived of, and struggles by which millions may die.
– mov51