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the unconscious

by Mary Frances Spencer

life expo
has no booths
no one to sell or promote
lethargic unhealthy
habits

excuses rampant here
tired broke another victim of
breath exhausted cigarette junk comfort
choking on stagnant
fear anger grips
dark barriers
and hides in
ancient wrecked
wasteland

all numbed out
sedated
complacent
going around and around
lost grasping karmic fog
devolving unconnected

survival

a well attended
convention

02/25/2010

Author's Note: I recently attended an event at the Conscious Life Expo, wondering if there ever was....thus the title of this poem. feedback??? Namaste MFS

Posted on 02/26/2010
Copyright © 2022 Mary Frances Spencer

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by George Hoerner on 02/26/10 at 12:29 PM

Good write MFS. We grasp at every straw our physician will push us to swallow. Anything to push self image to say poor me and those who can't be revived by their doctor find what they need in a bar or on some back alley corner. Makes one wonder about our conscious or unconscious life doesn't it.

Posted by Joe Cramer on 02/26/10 at 03:15 PM

... well done....

Posted by Alison McKenzie on 02/27/10 at 03:55 AM

Lately I find a strange absence of words to describe how I feel. And how I feel only barely seems to be related to my consciousness even though the evidence would seem contrary. "...grasping cosmic fog..." is a mouthful, my dear friend.

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