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Rated: NPL · Poetry · Philosophy · #1159042
Essentially cosmic musings about the what and why of life, this was one of my first poems.
Reality is an illusion,

An illusion so thick that only the mad even think that they can see through it,
So thick that it convinces, tricks to core of our being.
Tricks us into thinking that it exists, that it is.

Thinking that it is Real

No it can’t be, must not be, there must be more
Mustn’t it be so much more, so much complexity that we can’t even understand
Complexity, woven amoung relationships, some faint some defined
Relationships of matter to mind, mind to love
Mind thinks it knows what is real

Thinking, it is free

Free when one unbounds the mind, lets it wander oh so far.
Mind has the power to define and set the bounds of our universe,
Our universe which has grown with our sciences, oh so big,
Grown, a galaxy for each atom in the sand of an endless beach.

Galaxy, universe and man. Big, everything and nothing.
Our universe is but what we understand, an impression of all.
Understand this, our minds are made of so few atoms,
Yet we think on reality, think to understand it.
Reality can’t be real when we think about it.

Real means we don’t think about it.
Think nothing and reality will become solid as prison walls.
Become thought, then reality will melt away into meaningless
Reality is a colour, do you see the same shades, are we blind?
Colours require sight, impressions of the mind.

Sight of now, a vision of reality shared.
Visions on normality, visions of order,
Normality towards a common direction, the same world,
Common laws, values and beliefs.
Value that each of us is so different

Different in looks, personality and belief, maybe values,
Personality to be you, like none else,
You as a part of reality, a part of an impossible illusion,
Reality is insane, the order makes no sense, none, not to me,
Order your time and your thoughts.

What do you want to be, where and when?
Where would you be if all of your choices were right?
Would you be happy, content and complete?
Contend that what time you have is spent wisely, well, with meaning.
Time, time, time. Time holds the answers, keeps them away from now.

Time always destroys our reality.
Destroys now and forces good into the past.
Forces loved ones further away, the wrong way on a one way street.
Always further into time we head, further apart, reality spreads and multiplies.

What was in no more, no where and not real.
Joys happyness and loves locked in a prison of unreality,
Lost to time, blurred in deadly illusion,
Head, body, mind and man, I think we can, I think I am.
© Copyright 2006 Silentstorm (rabekah at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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