REALITY

Poems are puzzles of thought;
ideas scrambled in the mind;
reality whispering what ought;
eternity, itself, defined.

Poets seek to uncover it all;
separate reality from fiction;
investigations; their call;
words; their only restriction.

Secrets of life for eternity;
and all realities, hidden;
seeking creation’s maternity;
from reality’s

The well is the fountain of Life;
where all knowledge is drawn;
an energy fountain of Light;
insuring all life lives on.

Living water is drawn from the well;
only given to those who thirst;
those living in a universe; parallel;
where the very least, shall be first.

They were

Wisdom is an ultimate power;
knowledge is the same.
Wisdom creates a beautiful flower;
knowledge deserves the blame.

Knowledge is power for bad or good;
its corruption is never rare.
Wisdom is knowledge; understood;
and evil is never there.

Knowledge is usually plentiful;
often found all around.
Wisdom is rare

If you wish to know me; read my mind;
for my thoughts are always pure;
only by thought am I truly defined;
and only my thoughts will endure.

Words freely flow, like sliding downhill;
sometimes they’re uttered, before ready;
I need to audit them to express my will;
for

Do you ever talk to a machine,
listen to a made-up voice?
To answer; you’d like to scream;
for you’re only given a choice.

For that machine hasn’t a mind;
it doesn’t know what you’ve said;
tho it acts friendly; it’s not kind;

We all have set sail on the ocean of thought;
dreaming of reaching an enchanted place;
a dream world embodying all that ought;
and yet, pure thought, requiring no space.

Our mind creates an idyllic creation;
thought’s perfection, with no omissions;
a dream world for a perfect vacation;
reality

New roads being paved nearly every day;
as old ones have become obliterated;
landscapes keep changing in every way;
past lifetimes; completely incinerated.

Past meadows; long gone, many times over;
while new buildings replace all the old;
those meadows now filled with the latest clover;
as a new present completely

Most seek to avoid true reality;
it often troubles our mind;
we accept superficiality;
whenever reality’s defined.

Some think that lives are random;
simply falling, like summer rain.
Surely, nobody planned them;
what could they possibly gain?

And, who could such a creator be;
and what is his scope