I feel my life(conscious) slowly s
… of teeth.
every conscious rational being
- has a destiny … ,
they carve the destiny
The Golden Reins of Consciousness
When our days were young …
The golden reins of consciousness
Descend to earth …
I’ve been here before.
Whether I know this place or not,
It has a familiar feeling.
The inner sensations of my consciousness…
That I cannot answer.
… I may have understood fin
Consciousness is probably primary
Conscious am I in my Chamber,
Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
The Soul cannot be rid—
As easy the secreting her
Behind the Eyes of God.
The Spirit is the Conscious Ear.
We actually Hear
When We inspect—that’s audible—
That is admitted—Here—
This Consciousness that is aware
Of Neighbors …
… Faithful to your commands, o con…
Beating wings, I studied …
… success, with hardly any consciousness that the community exists … entered into the English …
I’ve been sitting here … live a little but my …
I’ve … to feel alive again
My conscious is starting to get to … live a little but…
… the material content that it con…
and premeditatedly in these endors
His fingers wake, and flutter up t
His eyes come open with a pull of
Helped by the yellow may—flowers b
A blind—cord drawls across the win
How smooth the floor of the ward i
All my life is.
… is neither with volition nor con…
Mind over matter, but consciousness…
exposing patterns of consciousness
round and round
… with wanderlust
Flowing upon a conscious stream
An offset stare, I …
Piece together the streaming consciousnes…
Speak of the Now and …
Disoriented my mind.
I consciously keep my fingers in m
… and dreams
Flowing upon the conscious streams
Aching in desirous waking …
Our earth is balanced
in the air we share.
As it moves around
our sun... we care.
We act in daylight.
The mountain wind, the drifting fo
The spinning of another cog
Disengaging my restraint
Enlivening what has grown faint
Solicitude that goes unknown
My mind is a wanderer;
No immutable pebble or stone.
Eclipsed by adumbrate billows,
It wanders all alone.
And in its psychical journey,
We as antennae of consciousness, a
Dream haze and half-light;
The broken arch of brazen night.
The hand that holds the paragon
Spilled silver-tongued prophesies
To regain what was not lost.
Thursday nights pass by;
Passing by in slow-turn time
Suspended and streaming
Waving through a window
As a world waved back
When you’re at your best mentally
… -motivated ambitions in
which love consciously wasn’t allo
Trouble brews along the border for
That blokes an’ coves an’ coots mu
Out about the long dry stages
Where the willie-willie rages
Strange sounds are issuing from le
I couldn’t believe that my first e
was still carrying a torch for me
and then I saw all my other ex’s b
carrying a pitch fork
separation that we’d unselfishly, conscio…
selflessly placed between us ̷