Meet AbBey EdWards

BhagavadGitaBhagavadGita Posts: 1,748
edited January 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art


10.16.02
Character: Abbey Edwards

I am in love. Oh my neighbor…and I know why….. being on his street is like music in my heart sky.
…..tis where an artist takes you.
It's very intimate and sometimes, long lasting.
spoken word of an artist
the voice
the music, ahhhh…well
there my friends is church for me.
….second only to nature
where God's true music abides.

….sigh….

… we know what happens when we get too fanatical about our church or anything else.
You come to grips
with it,
or decide to throw it out or someones likely to find out
many things, like being near an edge.
Go ahead and Try!
Convince yourself it is something you should give away
to another child, although, you are telling the child there is something to believe in like santa but as you walk away you realized you just lied to the innocent and you cant even lie like that to yourself anymore….so you bury it. You take that comforting teddy bear and you put it on a box to spend eternity alone. Along with the dreams you put into it.

you forget so many things you wanted to remember to feel and find yourself unwittingly accepting the irrational idea that, maybe the moon is really following ME down my street.
In your wildest dreams
you can no longer do anything.
There is a glass ceiling on your imagination now……
…… Like the one on your salary at the really big corporation downtown.
My bear.
I have not been able to throw him out, he keeps coming back.

What is happening to the human race?
Why are we killing each other?
What is it we can’t see?
I feel like I just woke up to a bad dream.
Insignificant and small like an atom floating around in my hair?..

A void.
Consciousness then becomes overrated
look for ways to escape.
I choose sleep. The only way I can leave this world without leaving this world.

…… You leave this world to find another world
waiting
for you and ONLY you
… on the other side
but Im not always steering the ship in my dreams and I know it.
I like that mostly. I don't believe I dream because of what I ate or because I watched a movie that had something in it that spawned something else that spawned something in me. Yes.
That happens.
But,
sometimes,
the strangest
most realistic
things happen to me on the other side.
These dreams are often wonderful and good, but in their wonderful and goodness, there is the enevitablity of I will soon wake up and learn this is not real.
You are
just as vulnerable to being
hurt by something in a dream as you are in reality.
You cannot escape feeling in your dreams unless you are a person who never dreams. And if you are those people I say you dream, you just choose not bring them with you when you wake.

My dreams have been like a secret lover you hid away somewhere.

It is a place I go to with only myself.
An adventure and journey into unknown realms.

Darkness is very dark there.
I try to remember I learned sometimes there is no escape
from sadness
because it will find you
talk to you
in dream language.
It will wake you up crying like a baby, because
You are awake.

This is because maybe you have just dreamed what Heaven must feel like.
The dream where god takes many forms.
Sometimes he sends messengers but I imagine he gets busy.
I like to call these helpers angels. These beings are clever. Beings of light who understand our tiny minds and use vastly unimaginable tricks to help us remember their message.
Pay attention is what they are trying to say. Neil Young sang, “he sleeps with angels.” For me, it should be "SHE sleeps with angels.”

GOD!
EVERYTHING I WRITE SOUNDS LIKE SHIT.
I HATE READING THIS.
WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?
THIS IS ALL CRAP! my writing is crap. This writing assignment just proves how inept I am at writing. I need some truth. Life's almost halfway over and I know so many awful truths. I do look younger than my age, maybe I can still find a middle aged husband with a beer belling and an SUV and good benefits to take care of me, looks. that will always save me, I look young I think but it is mostly because of my acne. “Better a cruel truth, than a comfortable illusion.”
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • SoundSound Posts: 579
    that is just how i feel
    It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

    Jim Carrol
  • BhagavadGitaBhagavadGita Posts: 1,748
    which part?
  • SoundSound Posts: 579
    What is happening to the human race?
    Why are we killing each other?
    What is it we can’t see?
    I feel like I just woke up to a bad dream.
    Insignificant and small like an atom floating around in my hair?..

    A void.
    Consciousness then becomes overrated
    look for ways to escape.
    I choose sleep. The only way I can leave this world without leaving this world.

    …… You leave this world to find another world
    waiting
    for you and ONLY you
    … on the other side
    but Im not always steering the ship in my dreams and I know it.
    I like that mostly. I don't believe I dream because of what I ate or because I watched a movie that had something in it that spawned something else that spawned something in me. Yes.
    That happens.
    But,
    sometimes,
    the strangest
    most realistic
    things happen to me on the other side.
    These dreams are often wonderful and good, but in their wonderful and goodness, there is the enevitablity of I will soon wake up and learn this is not real.
    You are
    just as vulnerable to being
    hurt by something in a dream as you are in reality.
    You cannot escape feeling in your dreams unless you are a person who never dreams. And if you are those people I say you dream, you just choose not bring them with you when you wake
    It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

    Jim Carrol
  • BhagavadGitaBhagavadGita Posts: 1,748
    Could YOU be the one
    who has been sending the messages.

    A loud sound goes off in her head before sleep.

    but, lately a new rhythm in the right ear. like a pulsating from an orbiting ship of unknown origin

    or maybe your radio station and she can't quite tune it in well enough cause you are south of the equator.
  • hey that is really good man i love the part about lying to our kids about Santa!
    The wind is blowing cold
    Have we lost our way tonight?
    Have we lost our hope to sorrow?

    Feels like were all alone
    Running further from what’s right
    And there are no more heroes to follow

    So what are we becoming?
    Where did we go wrong?
  • SoundSound Posts: 579
    gita is a girl
    It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

    Jim Carrol
  • SoundSound Posts: 579
    so far
    so close

    So close, yet so far from paradise
    I hold, you in my arms, in paradise
    Is mine, then you slip away
    Like a child at play, and here am I
    So close, yet so far from paradise


    love


    is all around

    said a far away poet



    make clear the sound of sound

    as string guitar blast
    It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

    Jim Carrol
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