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Index of poems:
search out the calm in your heart, and dwell in that placid lake, glancing up from the soft velvet green tundra, into the serene cerulean sky... as trouble-clouds float by - and you remain -- sustained, unscathed by the dissonance of distant thunder; as it echoes -- harmlessly, off your protective shield of separation; you -- far removed from fierce lightning strikes of trepidation. Back to top
blistering sands scorch my feet as i wander this vast desert of arid desolation cannot hide my feelings any longer i have forsaken all for you waiting for the light to find my consciousness swelling beyond containment beneath my exquisite pain left to remain parched unforgiven by sanctity of dissolution gravely ridden into dust away from the light and toward windswept depths of a darkened hell that only I could know destitute and without meaning absent viable form completely insolvent of essence spread thin -- and left to rot until… driven further and deeper deprived of all senses i reach for you and… taunted by your sun's rays revived by your sweltering breeze my numbness subsides and i am consumed by depravity... finally, i burn within you and i am quenched at last
the eccentricities among we, the poetic, and among we, the humans, make us all the more interesting. if you and I met and had drinks and discussed the factors of binomial equations, or how the stars alight the night, astride the bounding, fahthomless energy of the universe; or how neurons of the brain interact with the synapses, in surges of thought and fluidity -- how prone we are, to; subtlest influx of zeal -- we feel; from those with whom we click; faintest flick; of wrist -- would give rise to mountainous droves of inspirational insight -- and in flight, we'd find ourselves; amidst junctures that bind minds of two as one; as we follow spinning bullets down the barrel of a gun.
It finally arrived; I got it in the mail the other day: The Internet Toaster. I can surf the 'Net from the controls of the toaster! The outside shell is a metamorphosing LCD nanocrystal array that lies dormant and opaque when not in use, but... while toasting, you can touch-activate the array, entering the root of the shell and invoking a browser to surf the 'Net. I didn't think anything odd about it, until the other night. I remembered that the TV, fridge, oven, washer/dryer, and dishwasher were recently installed, and were the latest, greatest, and are all now interconnected in a virtual mesh neural network, where they learn their owner's preferences, and they share information. Then I heard an odd buzzing and crunching sound that awoke me. I went to check it out; lights flickering in the kitchen. As soon as I approached, I realized it was THEM! They must have sensed me approaching, because they fell silent. WHAT information about me are they sharing?! And with WHOM? They're [always] watching, listening, learning... Now, when I toast the bread, I resist surfing Because I [know] it's a trap; a secret ploy to learn my weaknesses... and to use them against me! A conspiracy of manipulation and abuse on a global scale. I confirmed this, too; because... no matter how low I place the setting, the toaster still burns the toast. Back to topThe Sound of Thought © Jeff Mason, 2004 Pensive whispered echoes carry In caverns yet to be explored. Sounds converge, divorce and marry, As dreams refuse to be ignored. Life is formed in unseen places As light and darkness blend to gray. Wind’s breath a tithe of penance due, Off’ring thought as its priceless pay. Tearful arias created As doleful breeze sings off each rock. Whistling verses resound from walls; Rhythm of earth the only clock. Visions infuse rooms once empty Filling these hallowed halls with sight. Images like creatures scurry Transforming shadow into light. Concepts blinding bright with fury Assault cold darkness with their might; Focus clear, at last not blurry, Ringing symphonies now take flight.Back to top
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