On The Finite Universe of States of Mind

I’ve been translating murkiness into words after A set back In my most important project right now: go on States of mind. They subserve the circumstances, And I wish I was more than just that More than a state of mind My dusky state of mind has sprinkle fall all over spring Enlightened by the higher effects past the fourth wall, J.P told me about the Finite State Machines And his belief that the whole Universe could be explained in such way

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Perhaps if there was eight notes, there wouldn’t be accidents There wouldn’t be us


The Impermanence Indelible

Forgetting about the things I wrote has become the rule at this point Even though it’s written and should be permanent, it’s not It goes past And life goes on I try to go on I’ve been thinking about impermanence And how all things come to an end I dream away the inspirational days And the wild daisies that flew away Just to make it special And, somehow, begging me to try and immortalise it

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That’s kind of all I did since yesterday.


On Priorities

This poem’s reasoning is all over the place Take it or leave it My creativity is abundant But I have to always act quickly when it comes to putting it into practice I didn’t need anyone’s opinion. I wouldn’t accept it But I did need someone to type my typewriter poems on the computer The poems I refused to use digital means to create And to scan my drawings which I used coloured pens for

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Such a poetic flower. She takes a week to form, blooms for only a few hours exhaling the most incredible perfume one could possible smell, and it’s dead by the dawn.


The queens of the night are blooming! Wish I could post a picture but it’s so dark.


This is the concept cover for my book and you’re the first to know!


Treasure-Mount Trash

I wonder if any part of my being perceives rain as tears Or if any part of the collective’s does It’s a rainy evening and all the beauty of existence I’ve found the last days is gone It’s a matter of time, stardust Time seems to be shrinking as we distract ourselves from being The lifespan in a galactic circumstance I’m just a fraction of second if the galaxy is taken as the rule

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I’d really appreciate some feedback on this poem: poetryjournal.adorawilliams.com/2021/11/1…