One fine day I decided to run away.

I swam across the river, went in to the plains,
on to the plateau and atop the mountains;
the highland of cloud fountains!


I stopped to see as to how far had I run,
and was astonished to find myself there
from where I had begun!


The entity was still accompanying me;
Black, opaque, shadowy.....


Why, it was the "I",

I say,
from which I had made a futile attempt
to run away.


Such instances reiterate. They seem to have become my fate.
And even as I resist, there seems to be none a getaway
from where the "I" would make an exit.


© Chandra S.

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The Human Experience

Literary Passages

'The Human Experience'

“Harboring too much unneeded stress,
Where sins are forgiven and secrets confessed
hidden messages found within this text
clouds cover the sky, the calm before the storm
Where mothers and fathers die, children will be born
flowers eventually wilt and trees hibernate
our actions define our vary fate.”

Actions speak louder than any words.

It doesn't seem like much has changed over the years. More people deemed as criminals as the clock continues to tick away at the seconds, people forgetting that this life is a treasure. A gem to be protected. Often the distractions around us sweep us up into a storm of confusion. Monetary gain and personal profit have become the center of man's desire. Personal greed for one's justification is clearly a bad president and an even worse mentality for our children to witness, or worse to become involved with. Personal gain for ones own family however changes that tide, a thin line as who does not want the best for their family and loved ones?

I can only speak on behalf of myself when I say that for being a nation comprised of a majority of Christians many have forgotten the true meaning and purpose of the gospels. Not religious myself but openly spiritual I can say with utmost certainty whether the god of the bible is real or not, the message found within those scriptures cut at the very core of our humanity.
There is a question I would like to pose to those faithful and believers, if we are all brothers and sisters on this tiny blue planet we call home, earth, and mother, such an honorable title we bestow to a place that provides to us everything we need to survive. Why is it that we continue to kill our brothers, allow our children in third world countries and here at home to starve while our restaurants toss out half ate meals into a back ally dumpster, only to fill another landfill, another wound within our planet's crust.

You listen to the same liars and manipulators who tell you there is simply not enough room or not enough resources to help our own, let alone help another. Millions are homeless throughout the world. We all cry, we all bleed and suffer and ultimately we will all perish. We are in fact the same to the extent that our diversity comes from our own personal beliefs. What we feel is right and what is also wrong. You can argue and debate your ideologies until you are blue in the face and still your opposition will stand firm in their own faith. You are then left with but two options, either fight or concede to the fact their mind has made a choice, closed and ended there. Fighting usually only solidifies and strengthens one's view on the subject at hand.

Is it possible to talk down a trigger happy gunman? Peace is easy to say, the word can roll from your tongue like a childhood memory of a Utopian society. Yet the act of peace becomes a tug a war game of who gives in the most, to allow the violence to stop. What if you had to give up nothing more than your own pride to accomplish the dream of a peaceful society? What if all you had to do was show one single act of kindness to your fellow man? It was once said that the act of giving returns more than that of receiving. This dream may seem impossible, yet when you give it some thought, this dream becomes more practical than the constant senseless killings of our own brothers and sisters, our mothers and fathers. The road down this dream would take no where near as long to achieve then our own regression and depression has lasted.

“Leave me to my own, as I sit upon this lonely throne.
A king of an empty empire, who set his castle on fire
A lord of fools, who plays the jester.
Where bitterness resides and only starts to fester.
This has become my solitude,
from an endless war it's my only refuge.
Trapped, with no hope of any rescue.”

“When Insanity beckons, how will you answer the call.
On top of a ledge will you jump or fall?
Killed everything you tried to force,
Ignorance never changes it's course
A vampyre hiding within the sheep's skin.
When there is no faith it is always easy to give in
Leave me to my own, Leaving me to be alone
and this has become my solitude.”

To question blindly without following.

Have we forgotten how to take care of our own? So attached to the umbilical cord that has become our very complacency. Are we so quick to jump or grovel for the scraps left on the table? Already hand picked by pockets of the greedy. Waiting in a breadline desperately wanting to hear news of blue skies ahead, yet we continue to allow others to speak on the behalf of others. The same voice which later becomes slurred as the cocktail of lies flush through their veins. Even when they face the angry mob, there sins are resolved behind closed doors and classified briefings.

No man, woman, or child can speak on my behalf, to assume such notion implies to me that I am property for such dealings and actions. I may have unknowingly been born a slave into a broken system, yet as an adult I redeem my sovereignty, my rights and my freedoms and when I look around I am disgusted and saddened at what we have all lost. The senseless deaths, and the tormenting pain, as the world cries out in its own suffering. The sins of greed and lust has tapped our planet to the bone, as ignorance continues to lead the charge in this the so called “Age of Science”. If this new dawn truly is the age of awakening, our evolution of knowledge and consciousness, Why does people still cling onto old dogmas. Dogmas in which has fallen in the past, like the Greeks and Romans.
When science speaks, we chose not to listen, almost paranoid that the whole status quo will change. Terrified of the unknown, yet to proud and stubborn to see, even now their very way of life hangs in the balance. No it is not Armageddon, It is reality and it is your very life.

One can easily and rightfully debate a religion, but to contest their own divinity is to doubt your own existence. For what ever that spark of life that is within us all is known as, it gives to us a very important and often neglected gift. It was once said that when a man faces his own mortality it is then that he sees god. With so many different deities proclaimed how do we understand which is real and which has been a fabricated myth? Faith for centuries has taught you to believe in something unproven. Trust in an illusion even if the magic presented is more than just smoke and mirrors. The word faith now just conjures up untouchable dreams, forgotten is the word faith used for any practical matters. We all have relied too much on “out” side forces, 'A god watching over us'. We constantly view the world in a third person, picking from it like an apple from a tree, the memories in which to cherish or those that horrify us. Forgetting once again the essence of our breath. The meaning of life. The mystery in which all has sought after, but only few have conquered.

“Are you dancing with the stars in the night's sky?
Playing with the cosmos in your hand while you lie
Can you see the future and what it will bring?
Can you hear the rain in the middle of spring?
Or ever danced with the mystics or sages?
Glanced upon one of the countless empty faces?
A world alone, Trapped out in space
a dot on a much larger canvas,
A race performing suicide if we persist

Have you sang with the god's new or old?
Riding the tide, are your strings being pulled?
Do you fear no one more than yourself?
For your mind's a treasure chest of great wealth
Have you found the depths of your emotions,
and the limits of your obsessions?
Reaching your dreams, when you first have nothing.

Are you dancing with the stars against the horizon?
While meditating within the center of the sun?
Have you ever traveled through a black hole,
or peered deep into the soul?
Can you smile as you traverse the endless skies?
Wandering the void as your body dies
Can you hear all the beating hearts?
As you dance among the stars?”

The Human Experience

The meaning of Life, the question is what is your purpose for living? This single question has haunted mankind since the birth of religion, science, and even human evolution of our consciousness. Through the years I have came to the conclusion that this reason for our existence was different for everyone, yet even now I've come to doubt my own answer, through theories of science. My mind and my eyes have expanded on what I once thought to be solid. Even my often morbid obsession with the dead, or rather the passing has all but pushed me down a rather one lane train of thought on this the mother of all questions. I have learned to be open minded and tolerate the insane and sane alike.

My mind has lead me through dungeons and even gardens. As if like a child who finds the key to a locked room, I eagerly turn the latch. Only this time I will not see what is on the other side of this door until I too pass, and die.
The Human experience is more than a word, like the meaning of life it's even more than an expression. It is at the core of our very existence, to simplify how complex this experience is, It is love, it is joy, happiness, excitement. It is the anger, and the rage. The often hidden lustful and even sinful thoughts we posses deep within our subconscious mind. Quiet simply put it is the passion or even the unforgivable acts of cruelty itself.
For when even a blind man opens his eyes he feels the wind. Our emotions, thoughts and being are what makes up the complexity of the human experience. To live and to feel. To act and to think, so once again the question at hand. What is the meaning of life? The short answer is the life we live. To experience a miracle every second of the day whether that is a bad or even a wonderful moment, because that moment existed and nothing can change it now.

In a world of opposites, the yin and yang, love and hate, black and white, even life and death.
Where death becomes the opposite of your existence, your human experience and beyond that door only those who have gone before us truly know this opposite. Science has shown that through our very skin, is energy itself, to rationalize the meaning of death, only serves comfort to ourselves and does no justice to the dead. To believe and carry faith for our brothers and sisters taps into the once again ever complicated essence of the human experience. Our emotions, thoughts, and even our actions become the corner stone of our individual, biconnected personality. As that personality then carries the very meaning of our lives.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is actually not a new piece, Its already been published on another site I use to hold my writtings and is in my book "Psycho- Confessions" I just figured it would be a nice addition to my library here at postpoems. Hope you enjoy it!

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A Walk in the Forest




Auburn were the leaves upon the ground
rich shades of yellow, red and brown
'ere as the sun rays warmly shone
upon a grassy, leaf-lit hill.


And quiet fell upon the lake,
save for the whisper of the wind,
the cricket's call and hum of bees -
and then the strange loon's cry.


And there lingered in the air, a scent -
a passing thought that thrilled my soul
as sun rays filtered through siloutted trees,

and warmed my skin.


I was content to lose my worries...

to this solitude.

Me, the silent philosopher...
and so I stood and pondered.


There stood an aged sycamore,
towering among other trees
with arms reaching out, heavenward.


In quiet protest to the world's wounded ways

and yet content to praise God for beauty -
knowing that, which others simply did not know.



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Why, Dear Lord

Why, dear Lord, have you given us this heart,
so filled with longings that can never fully be,
the way a tree is root, bark, boughs, leaves,
the way a bird is song and joy and pure delight?

Why, dear Lord, is the night always sparkling
with veiled meanings, which never open
utterly to us, yet leave us with such
melancholy spaces within?

Why, dear Lord, though we have the gift
of love does love come so hard to find,
and once found so terribly hard to learn,
to keep in freedom grown?

Why, dear Lord, though we in thee do wish
to dwell, and all thy beauteous world to love,
do we expel ourselves from Paradise,
or lose the vision and the bliss as we
grow old?

Why, dear Lord, are we so achingly
aware of Time and Transience, yet dare
not take hold of every precious second
of our lives until the day of our departure?

Why, dear Lord, have you given us this heart,
so filled with longings that can never fully be,
the way a tree is root, bark, boughs, leaves,
the way a bird is song and joy and pure delight?



Perhaps... the heart aspires beyond its ability to attain
noble intentions, found false for wayward gain
pain inflicted on part of hate
and love lost to cowardly silence -
perhaps we all need a divine hand
to save us from humanity.

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Wordless Rhythms


Wordless rhythms -
if you close your eyes and imagine
strip away all the noise
and simply listen,
what will you hear?
A quiet thought
nagging at the soul
A silent question
at the back of your mind
A mute whisper
regretting that more could have been done.
If you would just close your eyes and listen,
you would know,
we are broken.
We need life,
not death.

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ThoughtShock: A Manifesto Chapter 4



Chapter Four

'The Beautiful Lies'



This is the poison we take to remain oblivious. Drowning in the lies of the devious. Breaking the backs of the infected while pinning blame to all of societies rejected. Hypocrisy became the law of the land, where it is do what I say, sit or stand. Bark or beg just for the scraps of the day. Drowning in the sea of shame, where guilt is the anchor to our brain. The illusion lies within the palm of your hand, dreams manifested into something grand. Majestic creatures bred into sin, raised to believe the righteous shall win.


The beautiful lie, that everyone will eventually die. Truth found in the mystery that only those who have gone before us shall know. The beautiful lie that the myth is more important than the ride. That life in all it's flaws gives to us a unique canvas in which to paint a masterpiece.


We are hypocrites, and all the sins that we commit.

We are devils who wear halos built with good intent

and while we live, and we die.

We weave the story of our life.

As we march towards the chaos,

and as slaves death shall be our conquest.”


Can you wake up, before it becomes to late? Can you open your mind to a simple discussion, issues of the true debate?

Our future has no current fate, but that which we create.

Will you bow before you are even defeated? Will you give up when you feel you are no longer even needed? When they demand your pound of flesh, will you go quietly into the night, or stand and protest? If your world crashes down and suicide becomes your ultimate test, will you reside to admit that your soul has already died, or will you realize you are alive, and the true test is just to survive.


“I will live, and I will be free

as no one shall hold power over me”


We are destroying ourselves, hellbent on murder in the name of defense. Fear causing our hands to become stained with blood. Shadows that dance in the corners of our eyes, spook the easily scared. Where giants feast behind their fancy tables, silver plates with their silver tongues. Where we the puppets dangle from our strings attached to their billion dollar fingers. Surfs all dancing to the mockery of the play, as the world and the economy become the stage. Actors feeding the zombies the entertainment to distract them from any real substance. The sideshow of the mad circus, the illusion of plastics.


Public opinion from a fickle mob, swayed to create one day, bribed to destroy the next. All wrapped up neat with fancy words and all is well just as long as the minority remain compliant. In the age of decay, death becomes all the rage, where morality is traded for vanity.


We kill and murder for reasons as depraved as self satisfaction, we realize that in our capacity of evil we have the ability to destroy ourselves, that we can stare into the mirror and see the devil as our reflection. Standing before the abyss, observing an endless struggle since before the beginning of time itself, the polar oppositions of right and wrong, good and bad. Fronted with the most puzzling of all mysteries, the paradox of dualities. The opposites and the attractions. This strange, strange existence.




We all struggle against the vibrations of conflict

but to realize the limitless potential that we posses

That if we are to survive our infancy.

There would be no limit to our possibilities

for our gift to learn and adapt,

gives us the survivor within ourselves.”



Author's Notes/Comments: 

I will be honest, For some reason I have really enjoyed working on this little book, There is real no aim at any perticular theme to it other then a lot of my views on some subjects as in a more "descrptive" style of writting. I have decided that either after the next chapter, or the next chapter itself will not be published in this manner. I am thinking of finding a host, and converting all new chapters into one simple downloadable PDF file, once finished however I have yet to decide If I want to publish it into a hardcopy. I guess that will depend on if its in any demand... As always I hope you enjoy the read.

NOTE: I also just wanted to add all these chapters are still in a rough draft format, so spelling and grammar errors are applenty I am sure. as well as inchorant sentences, I'll fix them as I see them. (its 3am here)


(Update; From ThoughtShock ~Still Rough Draft~)

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Dreamt of Murky Waters

"Dreamt of Murky Waters"

I have this dream
In which I am a wanderer

Dark streams,

Of murky water
Washing over

No moon, nor stars
Do force any boundary

Eaten completely
Pitch Black, Empty

The sky above

No means by which
To measure this

The endlessness of time

Here is only the cold
Only the unforgiving

Currents flowing

Life’s murky waters
Endless, forever, pouring

Out of control

Constantly pulling
My head slips under
Tired of fighting
I learn to let go
Sinking beneath ever more
Towards darkness
Inescapable abyss
To unknowns below
Into the resting place
To life’s secret
The true meaning of it all
Letting go, I give myself
I am welcomed back home

By: jrfehlmann 2012

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Time rhymes with rhythm

Time rhymes with rhythm...
Days deal with deals,
Week walks with work,
Years yearn for youths.

The dead dead still,
The living love life,
Man must move the more,
Deep to the depth of things.

There the dead's deals dim,
Leaving the living life's treasure,
The secrets of darkness,
For the living's pleasure.

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