This cold yet beating heart radiates throughout a lit spectrum,

chilling shocked nerves back to its circulation of endeavors.

All colors illuminate charged vibes,

through bursts of released vibrance;

rebounding into cosmic flows.

Let it twist its form into translation,

as metamorphosis possesses embodiment;

now to rid the lost mind through embers of universal touch.

Sparked surrealism replenishes still strength,

expanding the sun's watchful eye.

Let this still heart beat,

within the warmth and overflow of fixed light.

Along the specs of flickering stars,

dormant cold fusion breaks free leaving components of my revelation.

...only to stand aglow amidst the undead world-

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Taste Test (day 117)

I’ve shivered too much in what I thought was summer

to learn about the streetlights I’ve never seen

But I can’t live life through descriptions

when you give me the world in vinegar


I’m stepping to the beat of the song only you hear

and shallow can still break even if we just whisper

Stop treading on these slippery shoes I call home

This is your gift and I will force it down


I’ve listened to evil but never seen it work

never seen the crude yellow lights beaming from its lies

and you spoke to me in cheap illumination

I couldn’t grasp with hands that won’t bend


Spending years at your table, now I’m going still

My hands know the wood of this bench too well

I’ve sat and memorized patterns, apples and silver spoons

This is my memory and it will never suffice


With just these senses I can’t build a real existence

I’ll swallow your salty words but my sad eyes never cry

With you I’ll live dead for the rest of my life

So I slash through the memory to build a new wall


Now my blood knows mercy at the hand of these poisons

But even as I flicker I know this is just the taste test,

I know the cold unforgiving steel of that silver spoon-

trust me, I won’t take the same deadly offerings from him.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 11/21/16


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People Don't Trust Us (day 69)

People don’t trust us, they put us in boxes,

they shake their heads when we tell them the truth

You’re just a child, you don’t know the world

even when we tell them

some of us have been through more than you can ever dream


Just because our eyes opened later than yours

doesn’t mean we have no voice, we have no mind


If you leave us on a cliff to live and learn

seems to me like it’s your job to listen

to what was below it, what took a bite of our soul


Count your blessings, they’ve always told us

but sometimes our ears are still ringing from the battle cries and gunshots

and our blessings cower in the face of danger


When we scream they cover our mouths, turn our heads

We’re just the bounty, the price they paid for all the sunsets

And if they combine us in our cage into one soft whisper from the dead

instead of a million shrieking lonely voices

it’s much easier to deal with


Now we’ve come out the other side of a tunnel they can’t see

Now our stories are written but left forever unread

You’re just a child, you don’t know the world

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 10/6/16


Words Are Shadows

Words Are Shadows


I climbed atop a mountain,
I wish that you were there.
A shadow of the thing itself,
Is all I have to share.


My words are only shadows,
They're shadows of a time.
They're shadows not the thing itself,
That mountain you must climb.


- ThemanwithNoHead

Author's Notes/Comments: 

On the primacy of experience.


The nicest hearts suffer the most

Why must we deserve this?

How do we become someone cold?

Someone who does not care?

To no longer be hurt

I don’t understand

But then again I rarely do

I have seen the nicest hearts turn to stone

Due to cruelty


Why do we even bother to be compelled to be around people?

That treats us as if we were nothing

Could the quote I heard be true?

We only receive the amount of love we think we deserve

Could that be true?

Could I literally feel this little love for myself yet


So much for others

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Our experiences of pain are as worthy of validation as are our experiences of love and joy. One big error that people make is to repress and ignore the pain.  They do not realise that when they do this, they repress much of the joy and love with it.  Everyone's childhood is full of joys and sorrows, whether they acknowledge it or not.  When we can grow to accept both together as part of our reason for existence is when we begin to live in abundance.  The stages of deep trauma surface each individual in their own unique way.  There is no deadline in transcending the past, only inevitable changes that will occur due to how we choose to embrace or postpone the realities of how we allowed it to affect our personal power.











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Failure in a glass

sad but true, shame on you... all has come unglued..

i'm swimming through this ocean, tide pulling me over & under, just to try & make it back, without blunder..

I'd rather dig a thousand pins into my skin, or burn a billion holes onto my back, then hurt you unintentionally..

can't you see, I'd much rather strike myself...

I don't want anyone to be an object of my pain..

so please refrain from stepping any further.. 

you don't know what goes on in my brain...

these chemicals are mine to control.

so stand back while I get a-hold..


ashes to ashes... everything collapses.. piece by piece, coming apart.

nothing ever felt right, from the very fucking start..

sometimes I cannot convey the thoughts in which my mind is stirring up,

or the feelings that cause my heart to silently bleed..

if only I had those wings, I would of flown away long ago..

& saved you from the inevitable hurt..


not being here.

sometimes I wonder if that's the only real dream in which i've truly conceived through out this life time..

nothing special, but it sure seems realistic..

she screamed at me, "it's all just a fantasy!" .. inside I went ballistic..

twisting & turning, face to the floor, squirming..

staring down at the shriveled remains of sanity... 


your eyes expell such melancholy.. do you see the same in me..?

am I just a tree for you to chop down..?

to carve your name in..?

to climb..? to rest up against..?

no longer will I walk along such a thin frail line..

no longer will I stand out of the shadows to be seen...

for these shadows are all that will vaguely cover me..

offering faint protection.. 


sometimes you can't avoid the rejections, the experiences, or the lessons..

when you drink that water, check the bottom to make sure it's clean..

though it may appear transparent & clear..

you could end up swallowing a ton of nails...

choking on how much you've failed..

shame on me, too.

Author's Notes/Comments: 



The Human Experience

Literary Passages

'The Human Experience'

“Harboring too much unneeded stress,
Where sins are forgiven and secrets confessed
hidden messages found within this text
clouds cover the sky, the calm before the storm
Where mothers and fathers die, children will be born
flowers eventually wilt and trees hibernate
our actions define our vary fate.”

Actions speak louder than any words.

It doesn't seem like much has changed over the years. More people deemed as criminals as the clock continues to tick away at the seconds, people forgetting that this life is a treasure. A gem to be protected. Often the distractions around us sweep us up into a storm of confusion. Monetary gain and personal profit have become the center of man's desire. Personal greed for one's justification is clearly a bad president and an even worse mentality for our children to witness, or worse to become involved with. Personal gain for ones own family however changes that tide, a thin line as who does not want the best for their family and loved ones?

I can only speak on behalf of myself when I say that for being a nation comprised of a majority of Christians many have forgotten the true meaning and purpose of the gospels. Not religious myself but openly spiritual I can say with utmost certainty whether the god of the bible is real or not, the message found within those scriptures cut at the very core of our humanity.
There is a question I would like to pose to those faithful and believers, if we are all brothers and sisters on this tiny blue planet we call home, earth, and mother, such an honorable title we bestow to a place that provides to us everything we need to survive. Why is it that we continue to kill our brothers, allow our children in third world countries and here at home to starve while our restaurants toss out half ate meals into a back ally dumpster, only to fill another landfill, another wound within our planet's crust.

You listen to the same liars and manipulators who tell you there is simply not enough room or not enough resources to help our own, let alone help another. Millions are homeless throughout the world. We all cry, we all bleed and suffer and ultimately we will all perish. We are in fact the same to the extent that our diversity comes from our own personal beliefs. What we feel is right and what is also wrong. You can argue and debate your ideologies until you are blue in the face and still your opposition will stand firm in their own faith. You are then left with but two options, either fight or concede to the fact their mind has made a choice, closed and ended there. Fighting usually only solidifies and strengthens one's view on the subject at hand.

Is it possible to talk down a trigger happy gunman? Peace is easy to say, the word can roll from your tongue like a childhood memory of a Utopian society. Yet the act of peace becomes a tug a war game of who gives in the most, to allow the violence to stop. What if you had to give up nothing more than your own pride to accomplish the dream of a peaceful society? What if all you had to do was show one single act of kindness to your fellow man? It was once said that the act of giving returns more than that of receiving. This dream may seem impossible, yet when you give it some thought, this dream becomes more practical than the constant senseless killings of our own brothers and sisters, our mothers and fathers. The road down this dream would take no where near as long to achieve then our own regression and depression has lasted.

“Leave me to my own, as I sit upon this lonely throne.
A king of an empty empire, who set his castle on fire
A lord of fools, who plays the jester.
Where bitterness resides and only starts to fester.
This has become my solitude,
from an endless war it's my only refuge.
Trapped, with no hope of any rescue.”

“When Insanity beckons, how will you answer the call.
On top of a ledge will you jump or fall?
Killed everything you tried to force,
Ignorance never changes it's course
A vampyre hiding within the sheep's skin.
When there is no faith it is always easy to give in
Leave me to my own, Leaving me to be alone
and this has become my solitude.”

To question blindly without following.

Have we forgotten how to take care of our own? So attached to the umbilical cord that has become our very complacency. Are we so quick to jump or grovel for the scraps left on the table? Already hand picked by pockets of the greedy. Waiting in a breadline desperately wanting to hear news of blue skies ahead, yet we continue to allow others to speak on the behalf of others. The same voice which later becomes slurred as the cocktail of lies flush through their veins. Even when they face the angry mob, there sins are resolved behind closed doors and classified briefings.

No man, woman, or child can speak on my behalf, to assume such notion implies to me that I am property for such dealings and actions. I may have unknowingly been born a slave into a broken system, yet as an adult I redeem my sovereignty, my rights and my freedoms and when I look around I am disgusted and saddened at what we have all lost. The senseless deaths, and the tormenting pain, as the world cries out in its own suffering. The sins of greed and lust has tapped our planet to the bone, as ignorance continues to lead the charge in this the so called “Age of Science”. If this new dawn truly is the age of awakening, our evolution of knowledge and consciousness, Why does people still cling onto old dogmas. Dogmas in which has fallen in the past, like the Greeks and Romans.
When science speaks, we chose not to listen, almost paranoid that the whole status quo will change. Terrified of the unknown, yet to proud and stubborn to see, even now their very way of life hangs in the balance. No it is not Armageddon, It is reality and it is your very life.

One can easily and rightfully debate a religion, but to contest their own divinity is to doubt your own existence. For what ever that spark of life that is within us all is known as, it gives to us a very important and often neglected gift. It was once said that when a man faces his own mortality it is then that he sees god. With so many different deities proclaimed how do we understand which is real and which has been a fabricated myth? Faith for centuries has taught you to believe in something unproven. Trust in an illusion even if the magic presented is more than just smoke and mirrors. The word faith now just conjures up untouchable dreams, forgotten is the word faith used for any practical matters. We all have relied too much on “out” side forces, 'A god watching over us'. We constantly view the world in a third person, picking from it like an apple from a tree, the memories in which to cherish or those that horrify us. Forgetting once again the essence of our breath. The meaning of life. The mystery in which all has sought after, but only few have conquered.

“Are you dancing with the stars in the night's sky?
Playing with the cosmos in your hand while you lie
Can you see the future and what it will bring?
Can you hear the rain in the middle of spring?
Or ever danced with the mystics or sages?
Glanced upon one of the countless empty faces?
A world alone, Trapped out in space
a dot on a much larger canvas,
A race performing suicide if we persist

Have you sang with the god's new or old?
Riding the tide, are your strings being pulled?
Do you fear no one more than yourself?
For your mind's a treasure chest of great wealth
Have you found the depths of your emotions,
and the limits of your obsessions?
Reaching your dreams, when you first have nothing.

Are you dancing with the stars against the horizon?
While meditating within the center of the sun?
Have you ever traveled through a black hole,
or peered deep into the soul?
Can you smile as you traverse the endless skies?
Wandering the void as your body dies
Can you hear all the beating hearts?
As you dance among the stars?”

The Human Experience

The meaning of Life, the question is what is your purpose for living? This single question has haunted mankind since the birth of religion, science, and even human evolution of our consciousness. Through the years I have came to the conclusion that this reason for our existence was different for everyone, yet even now I've come to doubt my own answer, through theories of science. My mind and my eyes have expanded on what I once thought to be solid. Even my often morbid obsession with the dead, or rather the passing has all but pushed me down a rather one lane train of thought on this the mother of all questions. I have learned to be open minded and tolerate the insane and sane alike.

My mind has lead me through dungeons and even gardens. As if like a child who finds the key to a locked room, I eagerly turn the latch. Only this time I will not see what is on the other side of this door until I too pass, and die.
The Human experience is more than a word, like the meaning of life it's even more than an expression. It is at the core of our very existence, to simplify how complex this experience is, It is love, it is joy, happiness, excitement. It is the anger, and the rage. The often hidden lustful and even sinful thoughts we posses deep within our subconscious mind. Quiet simply put it is the passion or even the unforgivable acts of cruelty itself.
For when even a blind man opens his eyes he feels the wind. Our emotions, thoughts and being are what makes up the complexity of the human experience. To live and to feel. To act and to think, so once again the question at hand. What is the meaning of life? The short answer is the life we live. To experience a miracle every second of the day whether that is a bad or even a wonderful moment, because that moment existed and nothing can change it now.

In a world of opposites, the yin and yang, love and hate, black and white, even life and death.
Where death becomes the opposite of your existence, your human experience and beyond that door only those who have gone before us truly know this opposite. Science has shown that through our very skin, is energy itself, to rationalize the meaning of death, only serves comfort to ourselves and does no justice to the dead. To believe and carry faith for our brothers and sisters taps into the once again ever complicated essence of the human experience. Our emotions, thoughts, and even our actions become the corner stone of our individual, biconnected personality. As that personality then carries the very meaning of our lives.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is actually not a new piece, Its already been published on another site I use to hold my writtings and is in my book "Psycho- Confessions" I just figured it would be a nice addition to my library here at postpoems. Hope you enjoy it!

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Fighting with myself

Fighting with myself

Live looking for a dream that never awake, and at times I think if life will draw my canvas, insurance black clouds would cover my firmament, and I feel that my faith was lost in time and my time, is going flying like the wind, waiting, looking if I fall, if I get up and as I try. It is true that life only gives a chance, and in fact the problem is how to know if it just comes or already goes away. Far of the real doesn´t exist the gravity and every illusion is beating through my fingers, but I open my eyes and I see that I can't, that I'm still in the same place, that I'm not growing, that I lack patience and the essence of this world will sink into my consciousness. The experience tells me - give up and don't continue with that, your default is that you always put the eyes too far -, and I - but, what about my reflexes?, yes or not it fills me with pride. Now I'm disappointed for having built a castle destroyed because I have built it without foundations, but in the deep of my soul the whispers say - die trying - texts and texts of unfinished ideas I have spent while my hope is refusing to give up this fight... I just keep telling to my heart "please listen".

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Never give up" ...

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