Skip to main content

Excavating Thoughts

Excavating thoughts purge the deep swell in an abundant forest filled with catacombs|

Think not of what to say|

Rather|

Think of formations and placement for your words|

The expression expedite hidden phrases|

A realm in multitude of scenic shades|

Which fill stains and covers from edge to edge|

Put in motion a rehearsed visual|

Captured for later interpretation and judgement|

A glory outdrew|

A painting foreseen inside that thought|

Once emerged from a projector working its way from picture to sound|

From sound to dialects|

From dialects to expression|

From expression to memorized interpretations or unsightly inked writings|

Exclusive to emotional reincarnations|

Contemplation and relegation amount heavy loads|

To collapse the foundation in which laid heavy groundwork|

Obscure water waves regulate the sounds of prejudgments|

Before seen in the obscurity of the themes|

Awake from the thankfulness of your mind|

And enter into the depths of the body without a fight|

The process may lead to decisions vastly increased by matters of stoppage and pause|

Then proceed in a mannerly decline|

Comments

  1. I'm glad to see you back! Your words are as powerful as ever... Great work!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank Krouth. Glad to be back. I need somewhere to place my thoughts, and blogging is the remedy

    ReplyDelete
  3. I really enjoy all the words you use here to capture a representation of the thinking process. You demonstrate well here how thoughts are influenced by other things that work in subtle ways in our mind--visuals, sounds, and emotions. When you say "Ink stains and covers from edge to edge", I feel you also might be saying that writing also influences how our thoughts work and how we re-interpret what we think. And thoughts coming from a forest that is filled with catacombs also made me stop and go "Hmmm".

    Very good poem. Leaves the reader very contemplative.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thank you, daniela.

    I am also expressing the outcome and power a thought may have on that person as well as others. And how one person's words may have a different significance on another. And yes I really believe that writing influences a lot on a person's thought(thank you for catching that).
    The begging sentece about thoughts in a forest filled with catcombs. Is my way of saying that a beautiful thought can emerge from a deep dark place. And when I say ink stains from edge to edge, I'm basically saying a page cannot hold words within its boundaries. Writtings have no jail, someone will read and release them.
    My writting and thought process is rather strange, I'm glad you like my stuff, and even more ecstatic that you understand my messages. Great eye and mind, daniela :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. Ah, the catacombs insight is pretty interesting. I would've had to stretch a bit further to think of that lol. And yes, I agree; writing does not a have jail. It is very free; the most subversive act you could commit in times where thinking is not encouraged often.

    You're right, your thought processes/poetry are not conventional. But that's what makes them very worthwhile.

    Always glad to offer my thoughts :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. Damnn I had a lot of typos in my reply. Lol

    Thank you.
    Yes, I like to make others think, and bring them into my world for a little while. And hopefully they'll understand me a little better :)
    that is why I came back to create a new blog. Because I feel that I have here people who follow my poems and understand me as well.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Laughing clown

When the nonsense goes is when the conscience grows| Obscure in the emptiness of nothing| A dark hole with no hope| Dwindling with the closing door| A crack in the middle| Sprout a light of hope| The light grew| Isolating the dark with scenes of grey| Absent from the remote land| A screaming voice Utters| The noise to block the sound from the sun| The voices uniting into one loud screech| Misplaced was the microphone| Unplugged to dismiss the surrounding sounds| The pounds the weight carried to bury the noise| Today sees the time| Tomorrow shows the minutes| Next week tells the days| A Rusted crown on the head of a clown laughing| From the outside of the hole| That dark void| Singing with a menacing tone| His throat clogged in a patterned noise| -This poem was originally longer, but I had to break it down. Because i didn't want you all to be lost. My brain works in strange ways, and i get all these ideas that pop into my head all at ...

Where Will You Be?

You can and will take the the revolutionary out of the revolution| But the revolution will revolt against the illusion| Overtake the delusion| End the ill conclusion| And nullify destitution| Forsake those who enact the acts of the institution| But you can not and will not take the revolution from the heart of the evolution|