Best Subconscious Poems

Poetic Masterpiece: A Childbirth Of Profundity.
Like delivery of Divine Revelations 
which favours calmness of wilderness;  
It's brought forth in Creative-Glory-Of-Solitude:
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Flourishing on
Natural contours of land,
Variegating with rainbows,
A continuous river
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~ EPITAPOETRY ~

Ms. Nivedita
UK
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I read her to see her
And see her to perceive her.
Perceive that her mind touch
I love more, she thinks of ‘much’.
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Although the human mind has been divided into conscious, subconscious and unconscious today, yet the man had already been existing and his mind, too. Freud was of the view that he did not exactly invent the idea of unconscious mind because poets and philosophers were already familiar with it. He said that he had only presented its theory in psychological terms. According to Freud, the poetry comes into existence on account of regression and sublimation of unsatisfied longings. On regression of these conscious desires, the subcoscious and uncoscious minds apparently become symbols of sabotage but on sublimation they transform into creative subconscious and creative uncoscious respectively. It is either as the peaceful use of neuclear energy or as to irrigate the far flung barren lands from a large dam. When Plato said that even an expert of Poetic Technique could not create great poetry without intuitive insanity, he wanted to say that the poet could not depend on his conscious mind only because the source of superior creations is afterall the unconscious, the backyard of mind. Since then people have been considering the poets to be abnormal. You may call it insanity or licentiousness or poetic spell or revelation or intuition or poetic inspiration. On the other hand, a genius who is also seen at the last footstep of conscious, mostly depends upon his intuition. Therefore he is also considered to be abnormal. A litrary genius seldom turns to be normal but as a human being his best creative faculties operate during the most normal moments of his life. These are intellectual moments indeed. The analysis of revelation or intuition shows that it operates in two modes. In first mode, a totally untouched thought steps into conscious all of a sudden. It is usually considered similar to electric lightning. Therefore poets, mystics, even scientists, all are aware of it. While the second mode is more common which is also understood by people having non creative mind. This is called productive thinking and it is placed second to intuition. For example, a forgotten name or face or event comes into conscious suddenly during half-asleep. The first mode is related to unconscious while the second mode is related to subconscious. The subconscious is more important in both. In first mode, the unconscious is raised upto the level of subconscious. While in the second mode subconscious is itself a source of information. First mode is usually named as Poetic Inspiration while second as Poetic Imagination. A stream of thoughts begins to flow from subconscious towards conscious in both modes. Where in a trance-like state, the creator and his creation become two peas in a pod. At the end of the process when he observes his creation for the first time, it is no more a part of his subjective process but now he studies it objectively and makes modifications and additions in it. Thus he observes his creation as its first listener and critic, and tries to analyse what he has listened during intuition. In the first mode creative unconscious is responsible for the subjective process and creative conscious is resposible for the objective one. Likewise in the second mode creative subcoscious is responsible for the subjective process and creative conscious is responsible for the objective one. The creative conscious comes into existence by mastering the Poetic Technique. In fact, the functions of creative unconscious, creative subconscious, and creative conscious are so intercombined that they can not be isolated from one another. They are collectively known as Poetic Sense. In general terms Poetic Technique, Poetic Imagination and Poetic Inspiration are collectively called Poetic Sense.
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So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shame
To extend all boundaries
To fog them in right over the plate
To kill only what is ridiculous
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My heart is open.

Spend time with my subconscious.
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Poetry is something
that dances rhythm of your heart,
sings song of your soul,
dreams dream of your subconscious.
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At dawn, the rain falls down
while whispering about your oval silence,
that silence breaking my emerald dreams.
My dreams are like those
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It's midnight here in Utah
And the world outside is still
As I sit down at my keyboard to compose -
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Along this cosmic filament
Flows wisdom, subconscious awareness -
From one corner of the world to another,
Differences dissolve into realization
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Not so young and vibrant anymore
Wonder what the future holds in store
What contract did I sign on coming in?
When does the living end and death begin?
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Fear is a battalion of mercenary chemicals
Capable of incapacitating even the most hardened of individuals
In the absence of faith, hope, Love and sometimes courage
Fear is stealthily deployed to incinerate the mind, body and spirit
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Guilt is not to be doubted Franz Kafka wrote
The human has been tied to the guilt of not having done
What said the God or his prophets what the society ordained
What the preachers say the first man was killed
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I believe I realize you,

When every tangled emotion
Deprived of freedom
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My Beloved Brother
(A Dirge)

Years ago you realised the truth,
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Every so often ^ v ^ v ^
despite the disinclination \ \ \
to do so and the friction /\*/\
which it causes, but not everyday, , , , , ,
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Janice worked 9-5 as her boss's secretary.
At work she was sedate. But her evenings could be scary.
You see, Janice lived a bit on the ‘wild side',
something which, from her coworkers, she did hide.
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In the rhyme of iambic rains
I'm wetting; sweet scent of
Cake in my writings nostrils
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Down down there
Deep deep in the hidden recesses
There lies a little space
Vacant and welcoming…
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EXILE IN MAJESTIC SILENCE
esspeecee

# Exile in silence,
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We are sleeping sometimes deeply,
At this deepness of the new night,
Sometimes we are waking up again,
Dreams or nightmares we see suddenly.
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What mysteries reside within the tangled net
Of electromagnetic impulses triggered by
The mechanism of thought and emotion?
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I was drunk with the sobriety of my love
Wandering with a passion of a possessed soul
Swimming in the azure waters of my wonderous cove
Thought that I had discovered love that was whole
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Half rotten, the other side of the mango
had the lust in subconscious mind
part eaten by insects and birds
soon the smell will spread
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A TRIBUTE TO HEALING POWER
OF POETRY
(BIBLIOTHERAPY)
The word poetry derives from the Greek word
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He opens his eyes,
Sleep disturbed,
Her compounding thoughts
Strike a painful chord,
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Dusk goes away, crows sleep,
And darkness comes within,
Stars twinkle and clap hands,
We sleep but we see dream.
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I had sex with a famous poet last night
and when I rolled over and found myself beside him I shuddered
because I was married to someone else,
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NEVER OF THEE
esspeecee …07.06.09.
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:)

What kids are watching on telly
are crimes and crimes in all variety!
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Because I said so, that's why
Reasons? Those I don't supply
I am your subconscious, what I say goes
And if I were to say stand on your nose
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Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
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In books written by scholars
With an element enforced on words
You read with your subconscious
And digest all you’ve heard
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A WORLD BEYOND!
Between the confines of life and death,
There lies innumerable cycles of life itself!
That extols life with its infinite evolving
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The beauty of subconscious
As if a fairy queen bathing undressed
In a solitary forest
The tunnel spreads its allurement
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i thought........about
all the answers, that i sought
and with a shout....
i scream, due to the misery
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Success
Thursday, January 13,2022
4: 45 PM
S...Simple
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this dream is beginning in the street when at night
carefully I am looking at the more and more dark sky
and suddenly I see creatures some strange are flying
degenerated though similar to reptile-birds
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Still in their dens
Living in the past
There were no divisions
In the subconscious
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Whence, whence this soundless roar doth come,
When drowseth matter's dreary drum?
On shores of bliss, Om, booming, breaks!
All earth, all heaven, all body shakes!
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Ghost Poem 1 (Where Ghosts Hide)

Under lock and key, in dark corners

They are the shadows of the past
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The story of Satyavan's descending down
Upon the World of mortal grips,
Soul, the pious, with Truth divine
Death and ignorance play the whips.
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অন্য অস্তিত্ব -

আমি বসে আছি উন্মাদের পথে একাকী
উল্লাসী চেতনার শব্দে কলমি অনুনাদে
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I should have cried much before
There was high temptation to remain alive
Even in the big preparation for death.
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I have purchased a portrait
A beautiful woman‘s picture was there.
For once I thought I know her
But then felt otherwise
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(After an illness, this is the first semi-poetic thing I've written, so bear with me.)

Caught up in the trip and stomp and whirl of life's multi-tiered dance, we hardly get around to noticing......all of this is an inner vista of the Macranthrope's body----the HUMAN that includes all humans.
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When your conscious catches up with subconscious
More than small miracles begin to unfold
Your eyes see the golden sunrise
You discover treasures within
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The magic of my childhood days,
I see thru the filigree works
Of your green pointed leaves.
The mild-yellow light which you
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This midnight is in middle of time,
Dusk has slept and dawn has also,
Both will wake up in new turn,
Rising of sun will bring new day.
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I can smell the rains of poetry,
Coming my way
Magic is in the air
Ominous clouds tower to the heavens floor,
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Once I was a poet
My mind embraced inspiration,
as she was fond of me
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What if a dream should actually come true?
Can you imagine how that really might feel?
One day you are laying down flat on your face,
The next day you are dancing a 'Scottish reel.'
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So...

So,
this is doom.
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there he lies in his room, so broken
lyk a piece of fray lies helpless to preserve its fading existence
I jus luk at the way his body trembles wid every breath inside
tired and exhausted by the recurring pain
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Enjoy a surge of energy
Embrace your feisty spirit
Throw yourself deeply into
Something vigorous, adventurous
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Somnolent screenplay
rehearsal for waking life -
Pre-reality
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Pit Stop At The Subconscious Station

Our world’s a soft type perfume,
One worn close but gone by the falling of morning dew,
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Life Came Like a Storm

Life came like a Storm,
With unuttered silence,
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Psychedelic smoke
Rising in the backstreet of my shallow mind
Kiss my lips
With one more puff of your feverish wit
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Wait until the lights are out
Everything is silent.
Drift into the subconscious by the drum of the ticking clock.
Creep along into the darkness
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In that dreadful space on earth
There was no mirror to wash
Face from dust with palm of water
The fishes had drunk all before perishing
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Dawn I not in the robes of silk
For I know what I true deserve
I walk in the tight rope of life’s brink
Wishing it would less curve
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The level of my awareness drags open the subconscious out,
the sleepy dragon of instincts with fire and sharp claws,
I feel them foreign, an un intimate, unfriendly animated animal,
so I go surreal, the real is beyond the imagination, I see
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I thought it is perfect
to remain invisible
in silence like a pearl
in one sea shell and tie
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I think of you
And I want to liken your memory
To something beautiful.
It seems your almost ethereal beauty,
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Enough to be
Saturday,16th March 2019

Let the love flow
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What fears assails you of the finality
Doomsday is to befall we live in the last times
Judgment will be what we will see it happening
Ferocity of execution is what appeals to human minds
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AUM - The Awesome Sound Vibration!

Resonates with every pulse of this vast world,
Reverberating through every object of this universe,
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When someone criticizes you, listen,
It means your subconscious created a burden.
Can mean that you are wrong or it is just fear of success,
Anyhow, you must look into it, find the truth, be fearless.
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Defining A Dream

Fascinating is the world of dreams
Experienced by most of us.
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Bri's Intro Poem:

This showcase is meant to amuse, educate, &/or {at least} help you to pass your days.
PoemHunter, and my "friends" here, have done just that** for me for years in many ways.
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New conception of wonderful belief,
We have perceived during sleeping,
Dream after dream is coming in mind,
Stars are dazzling still in full moonlight.
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There is no denying fact
Good or bad is in our acts
What we do must be in fairness
To bring always cheers on face
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Our world forever changes every second every day.
Nothing halts the pass of time; old age will have its way.
each mighty cliff or ancient tree will suffer the same fate
life seems just an experiment, a transitory state.
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Here we are in America camouflaged in poverty
Our minds programmed - voice of prosperity
While there in Africa we lie starving
While there in Africa we lie dying
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I do not know if I have words to describe
Where my dreams took me last night
Saw an stop over in a journey continuous
Some getting ready for a night's rest
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It's been two days since I had a dream
Still I can't shake it from memory's stream
It wasn't about any out of the world activity
Yet morning buzzed with its connectivity.
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Looking into the eyes of Medussa, the Greek mythology's evil one
Will turn anyone into stone, they will be done.
Earthly problems are similar, you dwell on them or let them go,
You eat up yourself or ignore their existence, just saying: 'so? ? ? '
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Yearning for eternal confluence
With the ultimate slumbering in subconscious
Returns with a longing, a force thunderous
In solitude, in the mind of a person pious.
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Music's exciting
Classic or jazz
Or rock n roll
Ever a delightful stroll.
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after countless drinks that night
she fell asleep
into the calm darkness
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The Saint and the Beast are in our subconscious.

There in the subconscious
is the source of most of
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graveyard
the silent peaceful garden of corpses,
the last stoppage of the motionless physical bodies
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Mind is poised for embroilment
in the tireless journey
chasing for desires
short term and long term
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Bernard F. Asuncion 
(Acrostic)

Beloved poet of spontaneous art,
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night
Night, the time to rest
Night to party is the best
Night, the time family sits together
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Today, tomorrow, same talk
Why would it matter one bit?
If I died today …
Why would it matter?
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The happiness that once swelled a proud expansive chest
has since subsided. Concavely, I must lament a dire and calamitous defeat;
my unholy reunion with the drink is now all too fatally complete.
Never a slave to any master, only the occasional scantily dressed mistresses
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A sense of calm dwells within,
while one experiences an
awareness of one’s
innermost feelings. In tune with
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In this SECTION “B “of November 2015 showcase, the poems will be (generally) of the following length: MORE THAN 12 LINES AND LESS THAN 51 LINES. Each poet may have one poem in this section; second poems (OR late 1st poems) of similar length shall be in SECTION “C”.
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A life time of happening
My little heart is flooded with
Filled to the rim experiences pour
Like waters in deep ocean
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Troubled sleep
Drowsy subconscious
Lost lucidity of
Silhouetted dreams
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Pinkness I need neither white nor red,
Sleepiness I wish, neither living nor dead,
Loose grip of conscious, by a hard touch if it is raped,
So soft is my unconscious, it will be reshaped,
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The cemetery trees whisper
at the emptiness of a given prayer
The subconscious speaks,
though I'm unaware
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The world is such a restaurant of God
According to competence and strength
Where all spend time with well and woe
Through the little guest moment
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You took me by surprise
Yet again
When you stormed my dream
Last night
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Enveloped in his cotton wraps
He rests his weary pate.
The day is used, the night is young,
Time, now, to meditate.
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Every second I crave,
For new substance to play,
Every second a new Avatar,
Intelligence of my subconscious,
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I close my eyes and it starts to rain
In that instant my mind flies as I get lost in my brain
My heart tries, over and over to refrain
from these deceiving lies, but am overpowered and get carried away in this train
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