Poetry

stream of consciousness 9.18

“The Consciousness of Being Human: Self Portrait” by Vennie Kocsis

I never / consented to this / to be a / part of parts / never asked / for the / broken hearts / the laden road / of being human / I am consuming / energy for air / ripping in half / to leave the / density here / to arrive there / so much to / leave behind / misunderstanding / mistrust / the degeneration / of being human / flat the feel / change the emotion / like ocean waves / this realm will / disengage and / the rage becomes / the sum of the numb / too sequestered / to remember / so they die / fire by fire by fire / and some / we love / memories become / teardrops / and scars / run my fingertip / over the / raised bars / hearing music / there is / no other way / injected through earth / plastic cups which / held my birth / death returns / when it / burns and burns and burns / regrowth the flowers / skin ashen / from flames / renamed and / reclaimed / shine the laughter / in aftermath / sees deeper than seas / trickery / treachery / manipulation / lower dimension / in fifth / long for seven / homeward bound / all your theories / are overthinking / flat or round / beginning or end / real or pretend / free or fenced / cages and rages / self created invasions / float away / against the seam / this is / a nightmare / not a dream / if they can’t / hear the / screams and wails / of innocent souls / this is / no place to / call home / I never / said yes / I’ll be the test / for traumas and / altered DNA / it was never / okay / when their / experiments / get to / intelligent / and layers / become invisible / they march in pairs / watching / from distances / invisibly obvious / mundane / this life / ordinary and / strained / drained by leeches / disguised as / preachers / politicians / the mouthpiece / of the wicked / people / so feeble / co-dependent slaves / cave easily / cracking brittle / can’t learn / from trees to / flow and release / shoot the moon / stage the craft / going back / through time portals / I told you / I am immortal / when this skin / becomes hollow / will I / remember / the aches / of this life / will I / look back / to understand why / floating in / the respite I / daydream of / colored plasma / encased / sleeping / m7

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Deeper Seas

Art: “From a World Inside This One” by Vennie Kocsis

Deeper Seas

Emerged naked
Skin renewed from
Oil and water;
Lungs stronger
From the disaster.

You see, after
The ticking clock stops
And the heart
Is the only beat
Left to keep the rhythm
You place your hand
On your chest to
Count the breaths.

I’m alive and
It’s so quiet.

Inside the darkness
Of my closed lids
Becomes the ebbing
Vanishing of the dimness
And I am Witness
To the return.

Back to the dimension
I have leapt
Into the silence of
My home and it
Became apparent
I could be present

Simultaneously
Separately
Same space
Same spirit

I have become
Accustomed to
The denseness
No longer defensive
Or controlling and desperate

I am flying above cages
Where I have disengaged
The rage into peace;
So much calmer
Just be and so I
Scan the world
With accuracy

Heightened senses
Deeper seas

I am a castle
Solitary stone
Formed and intricate
Floating above the fog
Candles light my
Cold hallways as I
Speak to the colors
Rainbow Mother

This is where
Acceptance meets
It’s own face and
I have become

Light and War
Seeker and Seer
Otherkin and Friend
Lover and Sky Whispers

Vennie Kocsis is s cult child abuse and cult survivor, author and radio host of Survivor Voices Show.

The Tightest Bud

Sometimes, you awaken,

To accept that a human

Will never choose you;

That no matter how much

You love; how much you

Give your open heart;

Growing and changing,

Some humans will

Always categorize you

Into a space that will

Never change or fit

Into their life… not fully.

You are not the one

They call when

Their heart hurts

Or because they

Miss your voice.

You are not their

First choice in

The moments that

Matter most.

Sometimes acceptance

Settles in and

You cry after

Saying goodbye because

You realize that truth

Has stared you

Straight in the eyes;

That you will always be

The friend, the occasional

Twist and bend, yet

Still you hope, open

Like a flower then

Close back into

The tightest bud,

Because words ring

Loud and you

Sit in the wake of

Your own mistakes;

Never trusted

Even as you gave

All of yours in

The most intimate ways.

So, the minutes,

They crumble like stone

As you find that home

Can be only in yourself;

That this world is not

For the Otherkin

To be coupled with Humans.

And in the end

The Hybrid finds aloneness

To be their Earth’s purpose,

And this existence

Becomes more

Of a struggle,

Sifting through the rubble

Of human energy remains.

Vennie Kocsis is the best-selling author of CULT CHILD and radio host of SURVIVOR VOICES SHOW

Underneath

Underneath the energy
Called skin, I
Am weighted, a
Reinvented spawn of
Seeds processed through
Universal time.

You said you
Didn’t know how
such things happen.

You lied.
I felt it inside.

I sat confirmed,
In the least, smiling.
They were duped, used,
Arrogantly believed it
Was special gifts
They received.

Oh, you fools.
We gave you nothing.

Instead, we insured a
Planetary pureness, after
You had purged the Mother,
Wringing her like a sponge,
And so the consequences will
Burn you to ashes.

Stone.

This is not your home.

Displaced energy you
Disrupt the synergy of
Life with your anger and
Separated strife, while
You beg for balance,
Yet choose to comply.

Time has bent backwards
As the hybrids rise,
Bringing in tides of
DNA advancement.

You see,
The Cabal never
Stood a chance.

We just observe them
Believe so, and in
The crevices of the skin
We live waiting
To activate the gleam
That will finally
Melt the screens
So the sleepers can see.

©VennieKocsis.com

Soul Genocide

She mimicked normal,
Smiling, wine glass
Lifted pinkie; copied class,
And she remembered back,
Carefree before this jump.

Into ash and stone
Leaping downwards,
This place would never
Feel like home.

Oh, did not she
Understand her strength,
When the wind
Lifts her wings?
To get through the storms
She would forget
Her own dimension
Without hesitation.

Windblown cheeks.
Born weak and
Barely breathing.
Timelines bending,
She had jumped back
To help them
Walk forward.

How the sun will
Burn her feet
And her eyes
Red from crying,
She will die and return,
Float in and out;
Take blows so she could
One day
Reveal
What they hope to hide.

Soul genocide.

Old, decrepit shills
Behind fading veils
Holding onto strands
In their decrepit hands,
They hope to
Keep the rope noosed,
But they are dying
And she is smiling.

Generation of horror
Deserves no honor.

Beliefs created excuses
For perverted abuses.

As the clouds drift
She gazes the sky.
Change comes soon
As moon cycles
Command the tides.
She breathes quiet.

Into the dark matter die.
Take leave of Gaia.

She will vanish one day;
Become dust and ash,
Leaving behind a past
Scrawled on pages,
Telling stories of
Generations who
Perpetrated

Violence
Racism
Sexism
Abuse
Misuse
Judgment
Confinement

The truth they hope
Will continue hiding,

But trees speak loudly
Through vibrational air
And wind carries whispers
When truth is near.

No escape. No pennants.
No hope for Redemption.
They are falling matter
Slowly evaporating,
A virus of sagging skin
Wicked insides and
Accusations of sin.

Be that your heart
Stops beating
To end the weeping
As you become nothing
To nevermore arrive
Alive in existence again.

Be that your breath
Is taken in night dreams
To end the screams
Left over from their
Deviant schemes.

Be that in their death
Release the slaves,
The mind overtaken
Now re-awakened.

She spins circles
In the dirt
A line for every soul
Their apathy has hurt
And she prepares
To hunt, eyes closed.

©VennieKocsis

The Current Tide

Tired
Morose
Flat
This feels like
An aftermath
Of the rubble
From a space shuttle
I was never meant
To depart from.

Thinking of home
I am a Universal vagabond
With my heart strapped on;
Ripped so many times
There is no more lining
For stitches,
So I wrap it in twine
Tie a knot inside my chest
A place to tether
The sadness.

Stop trying to fix
The broken hearted
With your big words.

Until you’ve worn the shoes
Of a human’s abuse
Speech is mere verbs,
Letters leaving lips
Which can never really
Know what it’s like
To feel all of this.

In the meantime I
Rewind the knobs
Tune the strings
So I can
Sing my way through
All the things I
Never tell you and
Why I like to be alone,
A solitary soul
Singing lullabies
To the invisible sky.

V.K

Un-Acknowledged

What does it feel like
To be a ghost shunned;
A soul un-grieved,
Un-missed and unforgiven?

In the hovering bowels
Of mysticism where the
Cynics hang their hats,
She waits to be
Acknowledged.

In these times there
Is a satisfaction in this
Inter-dimensional reaction;
When spirit feels the wishing
Just like we did
When we were little
And hurting.

“You are undeserving.”

I see her there
Weeping. She is
Repeating all of the
Mistakes that
Make her ache, but

You see, it’s
Not up up to me to
Provide relief.

There are grave
Consequences for
Actions, and sometimes
They get passed on
To the next
Generation.

Mistakes can’t be erased.
Absolution is a
Figment of your
Imagination, so I say
Proceed on with caution.

Meanwhile, she
Hangs from the eave,
Hovering,
Hoping to be
Seen by me, and I
Wince inwardly.

I remind myself that
She is the reason
I have moments of freezing
Dead in my skin and
How hard I have
Had to fight to win,
So no, without emotion, I
Leave her restless
In eternal hoping.

©venniekocsis.com