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  #11  
Old 11-25-2007, 10:10 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Thoughts in type

Was what was read what was written?
Or were the words interpreted how they fit-in?
When thoughts are written down in words,
Do they sing out thought as sung by birds?
For what we read is not always what was said.
Nor is what we hear simply a path in which we are led.
When my heart speaks of love do you see what kind?
Or are the parts of flight in words not what you find?
Questions seem to fill my mind, sublime,
often though overwhelming with time.
When reaching for the way in which to say
All that I wish to convey before I stray,
It often seems words still fail,
And what I think hides behind a vale.
So as one looks to see what is meant,
My words strain thought for what is lent,
A part of me that I wish to share,
By way of this I seem to bare
Thoughts in which I did not dare.
That walls that hold are my support
Built from those who are our sort,
Who share the part in which we lose,
Not at times we would choose,
Often times returning confused,
Feeling as though we’ve been abused,
For the loss is part of who we are.
Returning slowly knowledge seems so far,
In simply knowing who I am.

todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #12  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:00 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Battle front

While starting out my day
My vision starts to fray
Leaving threads behind
Of what was there before me
Clear to the naked eye

Concluded this elusion
Fall out from incursion
Whilst solely in defense
Left me pence-less proficiently.

Destitute sense
Tinnitus starts to sing
Bellowing its ring
Masking thought to define
Bleeds through effortlessly
Upon the open canvas
Smearing time
Blending images
Contorting what was,
Or so I think.

Todd
9/7/2003
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #13  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:05 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Ship Wrecked

This violent thrashing of awareness
Fools my mind with lack of kindness.
This storm which rages throughout
Has left me in a state of doubt.
Who is now seen has been stripped
As waves of thought are torn and ripped.
Lost at sea shall I be found
As a ship that’s run aground?
Hull smashed and splinter apart
Was this a storm which I could thwart?
While my hull is smashed by this storm
As thought confusion builds a swarm
The mass of which has no measure
Only hope that the mind can endure.
Somewhere left to rot away
The hull of me left in a bay.
As sand washes over frame of mind
Which leaves me in this state you find
Arched and reaching toward the sky
Hopes and dreams run past my eye.
Beached and sinking within waves of sand
Lies a man worn so far he cannot stand.
Wishing to ride upon the waves
Not pounded deeper than graves.
Far from where was run aground
Parts of me were soon to be found
What will become of the scuttled ship
Can be read upon another trip
Since as it seems the whole of me
Returns to write of what I see.

todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #14  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:09 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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*******ial Seas


Though crafty lines clamber to escape my mind,
Dissuaded completion in shrouded conundrums
Of ones which once only embarked
Where my minds eye could see.

Whilst those lines are missed in kind,
What kindled their existence into being are not;
Thus, the costs of battles waged from within left,
Markedly altering the pathways,
Both abused and down-trodden,
With no presence of concern nor forethoughts
For that, which might follow.

The fellow finds he must relearn of who he is,
Much less has become.

Storms—
Which had breached,
Left to rot the skeletal remains
Of a once sea worthy hull—
Fade into history, as tides of change swell beyond masts,
Which had held proudly the very fabric within
Against *******ial winds of change.

Whilst embedded by their whim,
Of faint residual memories still remain,
Of the crumpling shell,
Buckling of boards,
Holding the very grains in –and of— thought,
Knot withholding nary a limb contiguous,
Ingrained far further than first wood appear.

Of that fellow left adrift impartial,
So it seamed,
Embarked adrift in the eye of a storm—
Aimless, lacking the very passage of time
Shored by a dock while unbeknownst to this vessel.

And yet the coast of shoring
Echoes crashing memories
Of the weathering—
Whether break or no—
When the eye drifts—
Of its accord—
The stumble remains the same;
As would it seem does the song.


Todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #15  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:20 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Mirror-glazed

Behind the mirror-glazed image from my eyes
Refracts the static likeness of and within the hollowness
of depth beyond comprehension
whilst lost from identity,
sliced from existence--
shattered realities.

Traveling, whist forgoing physical momentum,
Representations imprinted in dynamic memory,
Images from an existence created from a path well known
By the erroneously triggered synapse
Crashing down upon our frailty
The tide from which the undertow
Pulls beyond resistance
Dragging to its depths--
Current takes the show

Taking one Bereaved
Contorting of perceived
Memory deceives
The taking of what it leaves.

Though what of this it brings
In words, how could it sing
Of treachery it wrings
From minds -- or is this the soul
Stirred beyond this hole in me--
The makings of a drollery.

Todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #16  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:22 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Loss of flight

I once had wings upon to fly,
then clipped were they, fell from the sky.
What was hard was finding a place to land,
though harder still a place to stand.
What once was shifts beneath my feet,
prepared not for this, I’m surly beat.
Crumpled to the ground that I know,
As what was known takes a blow.
What can be left within this shell,
a part should know though cannot tell.
swiftly as were taken away,
parts come back, I hope they’ll stay.

todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #17  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:26 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Default Once again my brian is sprained...

Once again my brain is sprained,
and yes It feels so deeply pained.
Throughout my soul wants to scream in anguish,
my thoughts are torn hard to distinguish.
Where this path goes I think I know,
yet each time it is new it's quite a blow.
and then like a splash fear takes a lash.
My thoughts tell me I know this place,
as though a reflection of my face.
Still there is much more than meets the eye,
I still know not the reasons why.
What comes of this I may think I know,
yet every time like fresh fallen snow,
each flake having a life of its own,
where each will land is quite unknown.
As the world starts to spin,
I feel as though I'm falling in.
falling fast with sure disaster,
I do not think I could go faster.
Having surly gone further than any man,
crash into new ground, my last stand?
So many I become, so wary I succumb.
splintered, slowed and battered,
this is part of what is the matter.
for even as it begins to lift,
it leaves behind some little gift.
for each of us this residue,
makes need for rest seem past due.

todd

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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #18  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:28 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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What was

When awakened, nothing more than smeared sense.
The twist, bind and break of thought in action.
Echo’s pulse while lacking rules of known time and space,
a residue reminding that I was not nor known.
“Simple” portions of what should always be:
foreign, confusing, while broken as glass.
Stuttering consumes all it can,
Harshly, independently dragging cognitive to a halt.
What is, while thought departs essence,
as parts embark on unknown paths---
escapes with the ease of butterflies, in fields I cannot remember.
How does one tell of this smell that alerts each time as new?
The fear of a fire that is not?
The memory of having been, which lacks existence?
Torture of thought, removal of what is known, lack of fortitude.
An existence without foundation of expectancy.
The wave sets me at ease, strangely,
though I know the storm inside has no path it must follow,
no rules it must obey,
the crest of the wave I have been on,
as the shore far below shatters all that is, it has done so before.
Suddenly parts in mind lacking existence wash back in.
Returned in pieces, a conundrum needing peace.

todd

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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #19  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:30 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Default When my stance is no more

when my stance is no more,
when all i know to be true is not,
when that which is real can be questioned—
how impressionable am i?
my cognitive functions are less than par,
all that i can do is breath and stay alive—
how impressionable am i?
how desperate?
scared?
lost?
alone?
i reach for where i find comfort, if i can.
you?

todd

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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #20  
Old 11-27-2007, 05:33 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Thunder
What I see is made of thunder,
splits my sight, makes me blunder,
cracks through, as though a whip,
cat o' nine, it does strip.
As it forsakes my sense of it
and takes apart my brain a bit,
I wish to remember it,
is simply but another fit.

todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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