The greatest impediments to changes in our traditional roles seem to lie not in the visible world of conscious intent, but in the murky realm of the unconscious mind.
quote by Augustus Y. Napier

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man Is Foolish
The human mind works on three tiers
With upper, middle and lower levels
As the conscious mind, the subconscious
And the unconscious respectively.
While the conscious mind is voluntary,
The subconscious and the unconscious
Are autonomous and automatic.
The conscious mind is to one's awareness.
The subconscious colours the conscious mind
And the unconscious is independent.
Sexual overtone in the subconscious
Will impact the external behaviors.
The subconscious is the reservoir of
Lust, jealousy, fear, hatred and revenge.
Bitten by a dog, one is struck with fear,
Which lurks deep inside to fear any dog.
The subconscious and the unconscious
Are responsible for all the actions
Done impulsively or instinctively.
One is helpless to be not foolish.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Invisible Wounds
Dark bodies floating in darkness
No sign of light ever given
Imprisoned in a world without a memory
Unconscious, or am i conscious?
Cut from the heart i am part of
Sometimes i feel as though i'm frozen in heaven
And i saw my own face in the dark and loneliness
And i saw my own face like a spark frozen in heaven
In dreams i see myself flying
Closer to the sun, and i'm climbing
Tried to touch the sun
But the brightness burned my eyes
Unconscious, or am i conscious?
Fell from the sky like a star
Sometimes i feel as though i'm frozen in heaven
And i saw my own face in the dark and loneliness
And i saw my own face like a spark
Dark
My life was so dark...
My mind was so dark...
Everything was dark
Unconscious, or am i conscious?
Fell from the sky like a star
Sometimes i feel as though i'm frozen in heaven
And i saw my own face in the dark and loneliness
And i saw my own face like a spark frozen in heaven
Dark bodies floating in darkness...
song performed by by Fear Factory

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The bad poet is usually unconscious where he ought to be conscious, and conscious where he ought to be unconscious.
quote by T.S. Eliot

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Bodies (demo)
Dark bodies floating in darkness
No sign of light ever given
Imprisoned in a world without a memory
Unconscious, or am I conscious?
Cut from the heart I am part of
Sometimes it feels as though I'm frozen in heaven
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark frozen grey
Floating away [x2]
In dreams I see myself flying
Closer to the sun and I'm climbing
Tried to touch the sun
But the brightness burned my eyes
Unconscious, or am I conscious?
Fell from the sky like a star
Sometimes it feels as though I'm frozen in heaven
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark frozen grey
Floating away
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark...
My mind was so dark...
My life was so dark...
My mind was so dark...
My life was so dark...
Everything was dark
Unconscious, or am I conscious?
Fell from the sky like a star
Sometimes I feel as though I'm frozen in Heaven
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark frozen grey
Floating away [x2]
And I saw my own face like a spark...floating away
song performed by by Fear Factory

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One Conscious
A conscious mind,
Showing up late and half dressed...
Will go much further.
Than the unconscious one,
Fully dressed...
In a tuxedo,
Not appearing to be there at all.
Even though physically present!
Both are scrutinized...
But the one conscious,
Is far more entertaining!
And eventually forgiven.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Psychoanalysis pretends to investigate the Unconscious. The Unconscious by definition is what you are not conscious of. But the Analysts already know what's in it - they should, because they put it all in beforehand.
quote by Saul Bellow

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Unforgettable Conscious Actions
Unforgettable conscious actions,
Forgiven with time...
But not from a mind erased.
As those memories come with intent to retrace,
In intervals of intermissions,
As if to stay replayed...
Between wanted acts of forgetting.
It is difficult to pretend,
Not to be affected emotionally by them.
Since unforgettable conscious acts,
Remain in one's mind to be noticed.
And felt to refreshen a sting that hurts.
With a leaving of an effectiveness,
Remembered.
Like the first time one's faith is lost,
In someone loved and seen cheating.
Again! To leave one feeling defeated,
From a repeated beating that does not end.
Unforgettable.
And on one's conscious mind,
Are these actions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Your conscious intent
Your conscious intent will heal and offset your unconscious issues, your attachment patterns, in time as well as instantly provide you with healing experiences when you deeply and really mean it, that is to the degree that you connect with your depths, see the God in others, and make a loving way even in the face of seemingly overwhelming intentional ignorance and cruelty
poem by Michael Kavuoti

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Beauty is holistic
Be clean; you are conscious of skin.
Do yoga; you are conscious of body.
Do prnayama; you are conscious of energy.
Do meditation; you are conscious of mind.
Being conscious of it is strengthening of it.
Then which woman can resist you?
12.08.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Seeking A Circus
Weeping,
Through conscious mistakes made.
With no immediate intent when processed...
May for some,
Be excusable.
However...
To place the blame on someone else,
Is a cause for payback.
Regardless what the expections,
To be delivered from remorse may be.
Weeping,
Through conscious mistakes made.
With no immediate intent when processed...
May for some,
Be excusable.
A child disciplined,
Eventually learns.
An adult lacking discipline...
Is a clown seeking a circus to entertain,
Behind a mask.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Behind Every Gross Appearance Has Invisible Subtle!
Isn't it true
neither moon nor universe, not
even I or you are visible without the
invisible in us.
Visible all are, only because of
that more invisible in us! Behind every visible gross
appearance, there is more
invisible subtle appearance,
When we look at the picture,
We usually forget the canvas,
When watching a TV program, usually we can't see how
invisible electrons produce the
image.
I cannot see my own face,
just as God hides his face to us...
Therefore, could it be that we
have one and the same face?
our face is one of His face,
Yet as he can look at his other
faces using one that he can't see,
We are looking at our other faces
using this one, That we can't see,
This is the truth that The God
uses this face to look at other
faces! Yet we visible to that invisible,
And we are visible only due to
that invisible ground on which
whole world play,
World itself is visible face of that
invisible face, Every life become visible only
because of that who hides is face
behind beauty and ugly faces
alike!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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It Is Not
Conscious of structure.
Conscious of order, law and discipline.
Conscious of those to whom is given respect.
Conscious of tradition and ideals...
And the effect this has on one's mindset.
Conscious of a faith that goes much deeper,
Than the faking of an acceptance of rituals.
Conscious of life,
And the limits of it lived.
Conscious are those,
Who are aware that this life...
Is much more than it is perceived,
It is!
Since it is not what we have been led to believe.
And a consciousness of those conscious of this,
Is what has been received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Sleep is Where We Venture
into the realm of an unconscious experience
where dreams are places that take us
through dervish wishes, whirling hopes and
creative feverish elixir
brewing fantasy and lusting envision
beings of no significant magnificence
an awakened spirit of time-less thought
spent of that which conjures the future
past and poetic unpredictable rhetoric
hear thee, the silent chatter of mind
fathoming the depths of where creative
fragrance elude their recipe of words
passion and conscious perturbation
Love sanctions warmth, in the chill
quill offering of this half awakening
evening of - literary, orgasmic passion
2.26.2008
4: 32 AM
poem by Louie Levy

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The Makers
Who can remember back to the first poets,
The greatest ones, greater even than Orpheus?
No one has remembered that far back
Or now considers, among the artifacts,
And bones and cantilevered inference
The past is made of, those first and greatest poets,
So lofty and disdainful of renown
They left us not a name to know them by.
They were the ones that in whatever tongue
Worded the world, that were the first to say
Star, water, stone, that said the visible
And made it bring invisibles to view
In wind and time and change, and in the mind
Itself that minded the hitherto idiot world
And spoke the speechless world and sang the towers
Of the city into the astonished sky.
They were the first great listeners, attuned
To interval, relationship, and scale,
The first to say above, beneath, beyond,
Conjurors with love, death, sleep, with bread and wine,
Who having uttered vanished from the world
Leaving no memory but the marvelous
Magical elements, the breathing shapes
And stops of breath we build our Babels of.
poem by Howard Nemerov

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But it is not conscious strategy to go for unconventional roles.
quote by Anil Kapoor

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think that witnessing ecological problems visible from space is one of the new and essential roles of astronauts.
quote by Philippe Perrin

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Dreams
In a subconscious state of mind
both real and unreal intertwine
and twist each others attributes
into dark Eidolon recruits.
These phantoms perform roles assigned
So well they trick the sleeping mind;
The scripts emerge from deep within
The brain where images begin
To shape and sound then orchestrate
Successive scenes the two conflate
Into involuntary schemes
The conscious human calls his dreams.
poem by Albert Ahearn

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Scars From A Childhood
Scars from a childhood, some visible, some not
One on my palm from a grill that was hot.
Punishment came from nothing I did.
Clenching my fist, it was something I hid.
Why world? I'm only a kid.
Scars that are hidden by clothes that I wear,
or some on my neck covered by hair.
These are excuses for frustrations at home.
They will stay with me wherever I roam.
Why world? I'm only a kid.
Never understanding just what I did do?
accepting the scars, each one as I grew,
fragmenting my mind so I could not forget
all of these scars that are still there yet.
Why world?
I was only a kid.
Some are visible. They can't be seen.
They live inside me. They're there when I dream.
Can things be different now that I've grown?
Or will they stay with me?
Are they all that I own?
Why world?
I was only a kid.
The kids in this world that are like me,
I wonder with fear what their fate will be?
The world can be cruel when you have no defense.
Where is the decency? Where is the sense?
Why world? They are only kids.
Those that have suffered all of these scars
should see the inflictors behind iron bars.
Until this is seen as a travesty
it will continue so no one will see.
Please world, please let them see.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXIX: In Their Eyes
You don't intent to be modest
You don't mean to say those white lies
You just don't want to be judged bad in their eyes
You don't intent to be friendly
You don't mean to chat a long
You just don't want to look ugly in their eyes
You don't intent to be strong
You don't mean to show power
You just don't want to lose control in their eyes
You don't intent to be brave
You don't mean to take the role of hero
You just don't want to appear weak in their eyes
You don't intent to be obedient
You don't mean to do all the orders
You just don't want to be considered a threat in their eyes
You don't intent to be professional
You don't mean to follow the rules
You just don't want to be seen indifferent in their eyes
You don't intent to be kind
You don't mean to give a help
You just don't want to raise suspiciousness in their eyes
You don't intent to be generous
You don't mean to be involved in any relation
You just don't want to be outsider in their eyes
You don't intent to be honest
You don't mean to tell the truth
You just don't want to be the one who should be responsible in their eyes
You don't intent to be forgiving
You don't mean to forget every mistake
You just don't want to be called cruel in their eyes
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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Art is a marriage of the conscious and the unconscious.
quote by Jean Cocteau

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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