Eden, I Am But A Visitor

August 1, 2019

Eden, I Am But A Visitor

“And in the beginning, life, like shattered shells splintering the solitude of a slumbering tounge, it slit, spilt and fertilized nebulous dreams.

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And just like that and oh so suddenly, with the wind against my teeth I was born.

Slapped, belligerent and bear chested
Heart raged & reclined against varnished rubber ribs, clinging to the water in which it lived.

giphy (12) Vertiginous light, truely naked and all devouring sound, you’ve resurrected me from vapor, liquid to one solid mound;

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And here now, I am now here a life.

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And you, oh so solid feeling pain?

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“Finally free, unencumbered light. It was a seed in a planted tree that created me.”

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Oh sweet, apple of my eye,
geometric stills, I cannot see where they truely lie.

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Pathological movement nailed to growth,
Tormenting and ticking this sculpted sands bleeding beats, doomed to a moral code, an oath of good deeds.

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And at the entrance to mortality, a chair of choice soaked in the blood of everything I will come to love, your voice.

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And yet still, I am but a visitor, a pilgrim crossing carnivorous rivers, moving to keep solitary cells in their proper jails, wanting to meet my home in the space where whispers reside, hoping for the fruit of our labor, that we both bit, to bear our bonded bones before we are a drift.

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And so here I am, Frankensteins monster, cultivating understanding, adapting to longevity, bedazzled by the questions that come from first bites, disheartened by mechanized beings and forever searching for Adam in my dreams.”

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-Magnolia

Acrylic on camvas 16×20

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Filed in The Poets Square ·Tags: 80's music, Art, artist, Arts, fine art, Magnolia Lafleur, movies, omd, Philosophy, poem, poems, Poetry, Poetry Society, Psychology, writing

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Mozart’s Beak

January 16, 2019

-ONE MUST GO BEYOND TO BECOME-

Sometimes I stand in one place,
but I am not there
In this place,
you do not know me.

Here, my blood boils between sighing senses and a sewn In gut
Like cats teeth
I gnaw and claw at my weakest strands
Pulling apart the places where I failed to take a stand.

I stand heart swelling between my pores
pushing
this scared crows beak through atmospheric places fighting for MORE!

Ruin and rapture, left to swim amongst the stars I soar.

As my lips peel themselves around
Paradoxical pastries pleasurable and poisonous

It is my insides that hemorrhage rabid & boisterous.

Adom split, I am divided by three

Frozen shelled it’s my soul that screams FREE!

Pouting, swollen in arrogance
It bleeds through my eyes
Where I remain is far from where my soul flies.

And as I sink beneath the graveled earth, devoured
by swallowing mud and loving larva

it’s Mozart’s beak that reminds me of Nirvana

Flapping feathers furrowed then freed above
fluffy mounds of blushed cotton,
Breeze brushing backwards beyond dreams begotten.
Tonight I dream of leaving it all, of basking in the forgotten.

And in that warm, dusk kissed light,
Horizon stretched
My insanity is etched
A thicket of desires beating through pounds of flesh.

Thirsting for resurrection, I stop only to drink from my own reflection.

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Still stood, cold framed
Purged
And sweaty
I soar with Mozart, extending myself, creating compositions, rubbed and ready

Violent they’ve become sharpened steal pointed and pinning
Forcing me to go to the beginning.

And in the beginning, “the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”
My veins weep as my breath, it leaps beyond this eternal sleep.

Sometimes I stand in one place,
but I am not there
In this place,
you do not know me.

But should you look upon my pushed past in present face

There you’ll find, entombed inside gorged lids, my soul, the God of impenetrable space.

By: Magnolia Lafleur

Posted by Magnolia

Filed in The Poets Square ·Tags: Art, artist, Arts, Books, Design, Earth, environment, Existance, Faith, Film, fine artist, friends, happy, Inspiration, life, Literature, meaning of life, movies, Music, People, Philosophy, poem, poems, Poetry, Psychology, Quotes, Relationships, screenwriting, Short-story, Space, trending, truth, women, Writer, writing

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What Crones Up Crows Drown

September 27, 2018

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And though his bones they have bled into oat, ash & dust, his stories, quite blahsensical, they shall ever never rust.

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Whilst parliamentary principles perabulated in his head, he laid upon his pillow, solving problematic proverbs in his bed.

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Swashbuckling tales wrapped in a small trim blue skirt as she holds a ‘drink me’ bottle beginning the flirt.

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Algebraic equations tunneling the mind, make it difficult for her to follow that big bunny’s behind.

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And since I am no neologist, dreaming in ratios and gold, I can understand what the Jabberwocky’s point was in being told.

Oh and ahhhh the joy in those frabjous words interlocking the tounge with the mind as it does.

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Confounding it all is.
This world’s upside down.

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You’ll find that man who claims to be of scripture filled with Mach·i·a·vel·li·an sound.

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And that human who won’t work, it’s only because it left its soul in the hurt;

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something those pecking birds feast upon in deserts.

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But fear thee not and believe in thy all,
for a Tureen of soup may cure the fall.

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And if ye shan’t believe in thy might, I suggest you take an absence from this thing you call sight.

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Go ahead, be brilliantly bold, as blind as a blissful old bat,
fill your belly with the stars till its round, fruitful and fat.

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Go on twaddle twinkle, trip towards your leave;
as it’s won’t be quite difficult in more than six impossible things to believe.

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-Magnolia

Acrylic on canvas ♡

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Stuck Outside the Dream

September 2, 2013

How does one determined the line between dream and reality?

This tells the story of an old woman who has spent her time in sleep building a relationship with a man who is deemed, in our concept of reality, a dream. She contemplates whether his ability to prevail so tangibly in her existence is due to them having a love that stands the test of time, society’s notion of reality and reincarnation itself. These are the thoughts of a woman ” Stuck Outside the Dream.”

Faint as a memory, vivid as a dream,
That’s how I remember him.

His hands firm, ironed to fit the concaves of my weathered skin.
His love vivid, shaped to illuminate the shadows of my being.

He was a soft vision, only unlike any phantom I had ever seen,
For I had felt his touch.

His hair always smelt of plucked roses, a soap given to him on our 20th Anniversary.
His lips, provoked by the beat of my heart, were always filled with the vowels of kings.

But at times, when I’m awake, I can’t help but wonder, hath my senses played a trick on me?
Am I interwoven inside the womb of my own insanity?

In love inside two worlds, I, we, both were trapped.
A communion derailed by the coming of the sun and the yawning of the moon.

In my sleep and in his awake I am found.
My life with him permeates of promethean heat, of longings quenched, of rapturous immortality.

The pleasure of his skin stacked upon my soul only deadens my being when I arise in the day.
For empty is my bed and I just a mere lump of clay.

Alone, it is intolerable, for one cannot function & absorb the torture of blocked possibility.
So I have chosen to live in sanity.
For what’s a dreamer to do when trapped inside their awake, but to bridge the gap, rescue the dream from being lost, at stake.

The origins of this life that exists inside black lids, I know not of.
Perhaps a love, so benevolent, a man, a spirit so prodigious, that no conceivable birth from nature, reincarnation itself, can interrupt.

Conquered, our breath hath focused its way through time.
Pillaging the process of winter, summer, spring and fall;
We decided upon inseparability through any means at all.

And now, his reality is my dream.
Expired are the days of wanting,
As he remains surrendered to me, I shall remain my feet off ground my heart in heavens, un-yielding to my awake.

Varnished we remain, I clinging to him, like warm bark upon a shivered tree.
For is it not in our insanity that we are truly free?

Posted by Magnolia

Filed in The Poets Square ·Tags: Amelie, Art, Arvo Part - Spiegel Im Spiegel, Dream, Flaming June, Frederick Leighton, Interpretation, love, meaning of life, Poetry, Psychology, reality, reincarnation, Short-story, Thought

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Midnight Interlude

February 10, 2013

By: Magnolia

To this experience, she was a guest.

Her usual floppy stance became erect and watchful.

Her eyes scintillated and sunken in fright

As a phantom, superior and with bizarre curiosity

Arose, deliberate, detached and delighted while dismembering itself

Inside the lucidity of a half- remembered dream where

All walls collapsed

Atoms took to beat and

Form neglected the boundaries of human conceptualization.

And while reality took to bed possibility

Buildings skipped from side to side, back and forth in comical repetition.

Red became green, blue, pink and plush purple.

Numbers echoed their “I am’s” until they, like a string of pearls, conjoined into a choir of nothing but decoration in an empty space.

Fatality became a companion only to walking apathy

Bombastic unpredictability became soothing potential

Quick became irrelevant

And like the sloth, all had abandoned the clock

And just like that, slow became comfortable.

This outer body experience left her observing the shell she originally inhabited

As all it’s questions, and pondering and confused, rampant vocalization,

Silenced her ghostly lips, and all that remained, was one thought

“Am I dead, or am I free?” a wonder that lasted but a second,

For suddenly the turbulence of beauty sliced into her experience

And the happiness of a moment coded in the feeling of a kiss;

Encircled, nuzzled and clutched every molecule

Below and between the gaps of every impossibility.

And a voice breathed forth the

Absence of fear and the presence of peace into an anxiety filled form

Everything was nothing, and nothing was everything.

And all that mattered, embraced the obsolete.

Closed eyes, and in the silence of her peace, her skin whispered, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

And in the dark, the face of an old man, expressionless, and bound to no sense of gravity

With one look, injected truth into into her barely beating veins,

“My love, thou inhibits all and everything. Boundless, you are the mother, father, daughter and son of creation. And your soft gel like tissues, afloat inside a castle of bones? A mere means of transport in a sea of possibility.”

And while her veins pouted in swollen satisfaction, with her last ounce of strength before her soul cavorted with a sleeping body, she said,

“I understand now, but if I forget later?”

And with no words, he thumped the answer into her heart,

“Then close your eyes and open your child.”

With those last words, she awoke

Drenched in the knowing that there was nothing more to be done,

She surrendered to trying and excavated complexity from the jaws of her trained mind.

And her eyes, drooped in the reckless abandonment of being in love with the infinite,

Tickled inside her enlivened flesh.

For there was no becoming she already was.

Posted by Magnolia

Filed in The Poets Square ·Tags: Beck “Sound and Vision”, Dreams, Earth, Existance, Languages, Peace, PHILIP GLASS EINSTEIN ON THE BEACH KNEE PLAY 5, Philosophy, Poetry, Possibility, Programming, Psychology, reality, Self-love, what is reality, writing

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This Beautiful & Spooky Life

October 31, 2012

When I was a kid, I used to sit around for hours upon hours and contemplate the nature of the world, particularly trying to wrap my head around humans, dreams, space and time all while accidentals inducing myself into my own silly little mini-headaches. I used to and still find myself in moments where existence seems strange. I’ve always been so curious about how everything works, finding the detailed peculiarities of all that I encounter to be amazing yet spooky all at once. My mind sometimes works as a gold fish (they have a 3 second memory) with every time that I travel, the same feeling and thought re-ocurring yet feeling like it’s the first time I’ve ever run across the idea of “Man, it’s so crazy, there are just so many people on this planet, all with an individual mission to create and be seen.” I don’t know, every time I think I get it all, I’m spun around only to find something forign to my coding that makes me feel as though I know nothing at all.

Anyways I like random, mythical, and strange facts that make my head bend, so on this Halloween, I thought I’d share with you some SPooktastic stuff!

Oh and HAPPY HALLZOVEEN!

Newborn babies and the water:

I’m Dreaming of….

Information & images compliments of website Bored Panda

“During the Roman Era some dreams were even submitted to the Roman Senate for analysis and dream interpretation. They were thought to be messages from the gods. Dream interpreters even accompanied military leaders into battles and campaigns! In addition to this, it is also known that many artists have received their creative ideas from their dreams.”

Here are some spooktastic facts about dreams –

1. You Forget 90% of Your Dreams

Within 5 minutes of waking half of your dream is forgotten. Within 10, 90% is gone.

2. Blind People also Dream

People who became blind after birth can see images in their dreams. People who are born blind do not see any images, but have dreams equally vivid involving their other senses of sound, smell, touch and emotion.

3. Everybody Dreams

Every human being dreams (except in cases of extreme psychological disorder). If you think you are not dreaming – you just forget your dreams.

4. In Our Dreams We Only See Faces That We already Know

Our mind is not inventing faces – in our dreams we see real faces of real people that we have seen during our life but may not know or remember. We have all seen hundreds of thousands of faces throughout our lives, so we have an endless supply of characters for our brain to utilize during our dreams.

5. Not Everybody Dreams in Color

A full 12% of sighted people dream exclusively in black and white. The remaining number dream in full color. Studies from 1915 through to the 1950s maintained that the majority of dreams were in black and white, but these results began to change in the 1960s. Today only 4.4% of the dreams of under-25 year-olds are in black and white. Recent research has suggested that those changing results may be linked to the switch from black-and-white film and TV to color media.

6. Dreams are Symbolic

If you dream about some particular subject it is not often that the dream is about that. Dreams speak in a deeply symbolic language. Whatever symbol your dream picks on it is most unlikely to be a symbol for itself.

(bamboo for h.koppdelaney)

7. Emotions

The most common emotion experienced in dreams is anxiety. Negative emotions are more common than positive ones.

8. You can have four to seven dreams in one night.

On average you can dream anywhere from one or two hours every night.

9. Animals Dream Too

Studies have been done on many different animals, and they all show the same brain waves during dreaming sleep as humans. Watch a dog sleeping sometime. The paws move like they are running and they make yipping sounds as if they are chasing something in a dream.

10. Body Paralysis

Rapid eye movement (REM) sleep is a normal stage of sleep characterized by rapid movements of the eyes. REM sleep in adult humans typically occupies 20-25% of total sleep, about 90-120 minutes of a night’s sleep.

During REM sleep the body is paralyzed by a mechanism in the brain in order to prevent the movements which occur in the dream from causing the physical body to move. However, it is possible for this mechanism to be triggered before, during, or after normal sleep while the brain awakens.

11. Dream Incorporation

Our mind interprets the external stimuli that our senses are bombarded with when we are asleep and make them a part of our dreams. This means that sometimes in our dreams we hear a sound from reality and incorporate it in a way. For example you may be dreaming that you are in a concert while your brother is playing a guitar during your sleep.

12. Men and Women Dream Differently

Men tend to dream more about other men. Around 70% of the characters in a man’s dream are other men. On the other hand, a woman’s dream contains almost an equal number of men and women. Aside from that, men generally have more aggressive emotions in their dreams than the female lot.

13. Precognitive Dreams

Results of several surveys across large population sets indicate that between 18% and 38% of people have experienced at least one precognitive dream and 70% have experienced déjà vu. The percentage of persons that believe precognitive dreaming is possible is even higher – ranging from 63% to 98%.

*Precognition, also called future sight, refers to perception that involves the acquisition of future information that cannot be deduced from presently available and normally acquired sense-based information.

14. If you are snoring, then you cannot be dreaming.

This fact is repeated all over the Internet, but I’m a bit suspicious whether it’s really true as I haven’t found any scientific evidence to support it.

15.You can experience an o r g asm in your dream

You can not only have s e x as pleasurable as in your real life while dreaming, but also experience an o r g a s m as strong as a real one without any wet results. The sensations felt while lucid dreaming (touch, pleasure and etc..) can be as pleasurable and strong (or I believe even stronger) as the sensations experienced in the real world.

OH! and we can’t forget, Minnie, you know she had a heart as big as a whale!

Posted by Magnolia

Filed in Extra! Extra! Read All About It! ·Tags: babys swimming in water, Blindness, Cab Calloway, Dream interpretation, Dreams, Halloween, happy halloween, Human, Minnie the Moocher, Psychology, Roman Senate, spooky, Talented Mr.Rilpley

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Magnolia Lafleur