It is the natural definitive motion of heavy things
Per scientific explanation of Velocity's increased intensity
But what about the theory's application to other aspects of life
Where it is no longer an object but a concept or attraction?
Two souls of symmetry teetering on the border of a relationship so complex
that a high speed collision course between them is irrefutable as unavoidable
Or the destiny of global environmental disasters in succinct occurrence
As comparable to the epigrammatic flow of freestyle rap battles
All safely labeled under the principle of Power of Velocity.
Passion and heat rise as swiftly as they fall
The coming and going of the tides
The birth and death of a singular soul
Each degree of descent from the peak of ascent
Is an added degree of velocity which means
Downhill is a free-fall with an element of poetic justice
That velocity only increases making the impact at the bottom...harder.
Power is a comely thought on its own and in various applications
But the power of velocity is both angelic and a monster
As it accelerates progress, success, and achievements in leaps and bounds
While it also hails the undeniable impact of impact
With the power of velocity propelling things
The iced night kissed the closed window with frost.
There you lay fitting against me like a puzzle piece
As the tangerine fire scintillates in front of our bodies
Leaving shadows of paintings on your skin.
An ocean is flowing through your hand as you trace
The stardust freckles sprinkled upon my face.
Poems of ardent passion are being exhaled from your
Lungs. The moon is playing Al Bowlly’s tunes of 1930 love.
Can you hear? I want nothing more than for you to
Consume me whole right this moment. You quench my
Thirsty body in your red wine kisses. I am wholly yours
In a way I will never be anyone else’s. Feed my soul
Your impassioned heart and dig your teeth into mine.
For my heart is yours, Love. Our cardiac muscles are
Beating in sync with each other. We are one. Molded
Into your skin, and you in mine, our souls meet on
The border of our physical life and the realm of the next.
Euphoria and love is seeping through our bodies making
Our somatosensory system heightened to extents
Of orgasmic happiness. Your eyes kiss into mine words
of I love you. This is where we belong. You found me.
Aara Priyanka Chopra Beige Net Saree. This bollywood wedding saree is beautified with resham thread embroidery on pallu portion and panels of the saree.Shimmer embroidered patch patti is placed at border of the saree add extra beauty to the saree. Blouse pattern shown in image is only for photo shoot purpose. Ara Priyanka Chopra Beige net Saree color of the product may differ from that shown on your computer screen. Aara Priyanka Chopra Beige Net Saree difference in color is mostly due to flash, monitor or camera settings. The images shown are only for reference.
Aara Priyanka Chopra Beige Net Saree. This bollywood wedding saree is beautified with resham thread embroidery on pallu portion and panels of the saree.Shimmer embroidered patch patti is placed at border of the saree add extra beauty to the saree. Blouse pattern shown in image is only for photo shoot purpose. Ara Priyanka Chopra Beige net Saree color of the product may differ from that shown on your computer screen. Aara Priyanka Chopra Beige Net Saree difference in color is mostly due to flash, monitor or camera settings. The images shown are only for you
that has taken the mantle,
the muse of inspiration,
for she -
(did you think she was a man-god?)
dyes me oft, colors me, sucks me,
loves me with intensity hot
that near to make my heart stop.
poems I did not know,
knew not their name,
but moments ago,
chicks in the hatchery hatching,
cupcakes in the oven rising,
spit in the mouth ejaculating
so fast a-coming,
the sustained pleasure
the best drug I have designed.
seconds ago there were none,
a lifetime of moments,
flying past my eyes,
purposed for inhalation
through my skin.
all week I have stretched and pecked,
shreds of lettuce un satisfied,
a title, no poem,
a stanza, no poem,
like I need a woman,
need to write,
like I need loving,
desperate and raging,
need to write.
even my alter ego,
the hidden me,
where I write on the other side
of edgy, indie, across border lines,
in a name you do not know,
started poems about
my eldest sin,
my eldest son,
hitting a kid with a car,
reading writing and 'rithmetic,
about the young poets here,
fast track to nowhere.
but at 2:22 am awoke,
my small engine repaired,
the fingers humming flying across the keyboard
so fast broke the 3:50 minute mile,
I hate you with all my love.
would it be so terrible if you gave me
one complete per day,
is that too much to ask?
now I am choking gasping on
heroin adrenalin cup overflowing,
now they come like orgasms
only a women can have,
so many more than one,
long short fast furious
separate but connected.
you make me woman,
just like you.
one day when get up high where you reside,
gonna start a recall petition, and if that don't work,
a revolution, to kick out the cruelty y'all dish out,
the tornadoes and typhoons,
return the missing to their parents,
and give inspiration, hope
to every human poet upon this
now I comprehend why
Shakespeare's theater was called
She, is Miss Somewhat so,
sometimes it's yes and other times no
and I don't know where she wants me to go,
but I'll be there with her,because I care somewhat
for Miss Somewhat so.
Her love just phases me,erases the worst in me,shows me the way to be,I kiss her tenderly,she responds hungrily,
we dine quite heartily.
Miss Somewhat so shows me where I must go and what I must do,which I do,when I do as I'm told and the older I get,the more I behave and am able to save these directions 'til later on and time passes on until time itself would border on
And if I am obsessed with her,possessed by her,taken off and undressed with her,
I like it that way.
Whenever I taste your sweet menthol on my lips,
I inhale the desirable into my lungs,
And I exhale the tragic out of my soul.
But in reality, I breathe in death disastrously,
Filling myself with chances of possibility,
Artful ideas of being successful and extraordinary,
Forgetting any remnants of how I feel honestly,
With wishes to destroy every lightweight dandelion seed
I planted within myself, easily whisked away by a breathless wind,
Pushing my inner horizon farther and farther down the skyline.
Every minty swirl of hazy exhaustion I release
Finds me additional pieces to my jigsaw masterpiece
Countless shapes and sizes available for me to lease
But only one is correct and allows me to cease
My everlasting journey to find what I need.
A finger flick on a flame lights up my brain,
Igniting passionate affection for creativity,
For building up my future full of sovereign devotion
To assurance and indisputable positivity undarkened,
A clear-cut, twinkling vision of self-affirmative action,
Establishing a reality only seen in my dreams, me, chosen.
I always view the future haphazardly,
If I’m not a scientist what the hell will I be?
I just want to do is create and inspire and explain me
Looking through scopes and writing down numbers is not enticing
And I need some sort of stimulus to keep my body sane and happy.
My whole life I’ve wanted to make an impact, a change
Just now I know how that’s going to make way,
I want to write, express, let others know they’re not alone,
And if that is unsettling, I’ll just let your mind be blown.
My ever-expansive appetite craves for adventure,
I yearn for travel, for maps, for experience, new cultures
The globe is my home and I want to unlock every door
So my thirst will be unsatisfied until you give me the key for more.
Now I’m not trying to move mountains, stop war,
I just ask for a peaceful border, for safe travel and legal cigars.
Our society is mesmerized with beauty and love
But we lack the propensity to settle down and be content with ourselves
And if we can’t covet ourselves, who are we to judge?
She’s a little sad, he doesn’t curse,
Who is anyone to say that they aren’t worth a poetic verse?
Without a simple change to the way we perceive, we’re held back –
We, ourselves, block the borders to love and to peace,
Gunning down possibility,
Wearing away the concept of wholeheartedly,
Only accepting work done effortlessly,
Forgetting the importance of personality,
We need change.
Escape the man-made Inferno of what we call society,
Climbing up the ladder of knowledge and inquiry and creation
Until we reach the omniscient sun and the moon,
To the stars and beyond.
when i bought you a gift,
i didn't really think about it.
wrapped it in your favorite color and
marked it with your name and
i don't know where you live.
its been three years since i last saw you,
a year since we last talked,
and all my new friends just remind me of you.
i almost called her your name the other day.
you acted like i was special, and i
pretended i didn't need you.
you promised that nothing would change.
you swore you would visit
(but then every time it seemed you would,
i found myself hoping
you wouldn't. i guess
it's lucky you never did)
sometimes i go a month without thinking of you (forgetting like i should)
and wake from a dream where we're
sitting on the edge of a wall,
three years younger than we are,
throwing rocks down steep slopes,
reflections on car doors,
melting in california sun.
i straightened you out
when boys left you tangled.
(i've never been in love)
you listened when i talked about
black cats and spirographs
and the way that we can never really touch anything
(i don't think you understood
even half of what i said but
you listened like i was spurting nasty secrets of the universe in sick waves like
this one will be on the final)
you laid with me on hot sidewalks and then,
i thought i was always supposed to be the one who went south,
left someone behind,
wondering about me,
but here we are and still, still, even now
everyone i care about is just like you.
i went north but still even now,
i walk barefoot like the ground is hot and dry,
like it was back home,
like it's not wet from last night's rain.
i think you'd like it here, you liked fog better than i did,
you liked rain, you thought it was
you thought colors looked better in the cold.
you liked the way your hair looked wet but hated the way your makeup would run.
you tried to grow closer but instead i would talk
about things that don't matter,
you shouldn't have expected any better from me.
didn't realize till you left that codependence
isn't something i
can avoid, i can only prevent you
from becoming as attached
can red threads work for friendships too?
sometimes i feel like it wrapped around my torso a thousand times over,
pinching the skin,
and only draped over your hand.
sometimes i feel like a dog with her leash tied to a pole.
i thought i was the one who was supposed to leave,
i've always been bound by the border, i've
never been as transient as
that never stopped you.
nothing stops you.
(do i ever come to mind?
do you mention me to your new friends, am i
in any of the stories you tell them?
i don't tell my friends about you.
i'd just be ashamed
of still keeping your laugh in my mind.
i'd just be jealous
that they know how to say your name)
i remember sitting with you on a wall,
watching heat mirages,
listening to the way you talk
and thinking of telling you things like
the way my parents don't kiss anymore,
the time my mom left in the middle of the night,
and i waited on the stairs under stars for three hours
while my dad told me to come inside,
and orion sat above,
and the driveway stayed empty,
and you turned to me and i made a joke about
you were so honest with me.
(i was honest too,
it's not lying
if you make jokes about how you really feel
it's not lying, it's just a comedy routine)
i think i'm a few years older than i'm supposed to be.
i should be able to move on from a friend
that left me behind,
i think my mind
is a few years behind my body,
maybe when you left
you borrowed a few of my years for the road,
and now i'm a child in body that's been rotting for 18 years,
crying over a friend that has
better things to do.
laughing over injuries to seem strong.
your gift is still on my desk, and it's been
almost two months.
i guess i'll leave this one in my closet too.
thinking of you.
Whose coat is this? Sure as hell isn't my coat. I ain't got no coat with this parka shit, it's bullshit. I ain't no furry flamin' faggot. I ain't no chinky chochy Molly-May-Ze-Dong chokin' down chickens and nasalin' a'sniffin' snortin' nasty-ass choch; that ain't me. That ain't me. Look at this coat– I'm like an Eskimo bitch. I'm like a butch-dyke bull-dyke crotch-lappin' a'swimmin' laps in that guy's swimmin' pool. Who's that guy? Who owns that guy? 'Ey, anyone here the owner of this guy– guy ain't got no owner? Whose coat is this? It's nice, real nice. Bet she said, "Does it come from France? Where do I buy one?" I want to buy one, I think I need to buy shit more. I sure as hell need to buy one of these. "And I need one these too and one of them too and I need a petticoat and a tipper-tapper and a whimpratic garfielder and one of them new bartlemores, I need more of them bartlemores. I need more, more, more, more, more, more..." That ain't enough. Shit's from France. Shit's from Paris, that's romantic. You think I'm romantic? I eat hearts for dinner, I chew down nails like nuts for my midnight snack. I smoke cigarettes and spit on concrete slabs, you think that's sexy? I'll show you sexy. I'll show you Paris, New York City, Rome, romance you in Rome. I'll get real fuckin' Roman. I'll take you to the desert and make love to you. That's how a free man does a woman, and I'm a real free man. Who's ownin' this guy? It ain't you, it ain't me. I don't own you, you don't own me. I'm a free man:
"Fire and wood, fire and wood, fire and wood. It is late, it is late, it is far, far too late."
fire to wood, fire to wood; feel that fire fired fresh from that firewood.
I dug the pit,
he gathered the wood,
she started the fire.
She really does make that fire start.
O' how she makes that fire burn,
O' how the wood's wrapped in white hots,
O' how they smoke their smokestacked pipes,
O' tobacco teeming teenagers, tormented by and through youth,
O' adolescence, trending topics, and forget-me-not flowers,
O' old age, Floridan coffins, and coughing cancers,
O' writers in the mountains writing to be,
O' painters and nude bodies in studies by the sea,
O' thinkers in their mindset, mindsetting the table for dinner,
O' tables set to bursting,
O' wallets so thick,
O' society, our social games,
O' that I may be at peace,
O' that I may be content and pray only for peace,
O' how about them true believers,
O' how about that love at first sight,
O' sandstone. My sandstone. That guy sittin' on sandstone.
That's my guy. That's my guy. I own this shit.
Is a man breathing on a mirror the sum of his breaths?
Breaths foggin' a'mistin' my view,
my view of a body and that face,
you're a body.
You're a workin' day's bell,
you're my chill in an Icelandic draft,
you're my spare in a Middle Eastern draft,
you're my pawn in chest-to-chest chess.
You've got this. You've got this. You own this shit.
And it is shit, too. I'd be set, real fuckin' set, with someone like you. I'll make you a woman, check this parka shit. Coat's mine. I'm a classy igloo runner, runnin' a'ragin' a'czebelskiin' meriteratin', I'll be reiteratin' your points. Check the time, it's late! It's late! Bitch was in the grassy knoll turnin' trap tunes on her turntable. Would you listen to that? She sounds late to me, does she sound late to you? I like the music; I like the music. What happened to Woodstock? Where's my watergate, Nixon? Where's my generation, Ginsberg? Where's the meaning? This music's too loud! We're so profound! O' profundity!
Tell me something I didn't know, I'm craving' the new.
Give me the new while I spit on the old,
while I spit on this fine art finely art'd by and for fine artists–
fuckin' fine artists. Goddamn fine artists.
(You can realize radical-realist realism but you can't be real with me?)
O' fine art!
What fine art!
Which fine artists are dead?
Looks like they're dead.
Looks like them faggots choked out all them ghettos, choked out all them rednecks, chokin' a'stranglin' by-God-oh-God straddlin' the breeders. I sure did like them babes– babes with their laughin' a'lackin' o' cynicism. They don't know the word "shit."
I sure am forgetful–
I forgot that smoke doesn't dissipate,
I forgot how to smell autumn leaves,
I forgot to check the heart against the fingertips,
I forgot why my fingertips went numb,
I forgot to cue in the meaning when the sentence was complete,
I forget to complete my sentences,
I forget who you were wanting when you said, "I want you."
I got as much depth as an in-depth discussion, high hats and electropercussion have got me going. I'm goin' downtown, uptown bourgeois tricked me out, johns and yellow Hummers laid me down and cussed me out. That's not a discussion. That's not my scent scenting my towel, this breath reeks of wintry air– my fingertips went numb.
"I want you."
"Oh would you look at that moon?
Take a look at that moon.
Look at that moon with the fuckin' mountains.
I love that moon.
That's my moon."
I love darin' a'dusty dareelin' derailin' your dreams, whose dreams are these? They ain't my dreams– ain't no dream derailin' a'nileerad radiatiatin' some hint of joy or Jamison Scotch Liqueur. Drink that shit. That's my shit, I own that shit.
I'm sittin' on this stoop like I own this shit, like this shit owns me; I owed me. I don't own me, you owe me:
Pay up man, feet off the stoop.
Pay up man, be real with me.
Pay up man, you ever thought of a man as a man?
Pay up man, give it in.
Pay up man, give in.
Pay up man, I need you to do me a solid. Do me solid from crown-to-toe, we're toe-to-toe let's do-si-do bro-to-ho I'm ready go, ho, jo, ko, lo, get low… Now I'm ramblin'. You say, "Ramble in to the stoop and tell me a story."
What's a stoop– who's a stoop? That shit ain't stoop– you ain't stoop. You're stupid. You're a joke, check out the joke. Hey ladies, you seen this joke– joke ain't been seen by them ladies? I'm a joke. We ain't laughin' with you, they're laughin' at you.
What hilarious histories have passed?
"I said I loved him once. I only loved him once."
(And how long once has been...)
I sure did like them hand-holdins,
them star-gazin' moments,
them moon phasin' nighttime nuances,
them fingertip feelin' a'findin',
them sessions o'meshin' limber legs unto steadfast cocks,
heads cocked like guns toward the sky,
beyond the horizon
below the belt.
Them star-gazing moments seeing stars seemin' small, I love how they gleam- gleamin' a'glarin' comparin' shine to shine, shimmerin' a glimmer shone stumblin' her way home from the bar. She's drunk. She's brilliant, brilliance of whit and wantin' a'wanderlustin' gypsy nomads- that bitch gyp'd me, no mad man would take a cerebral slam to the face lest them moving pictures are involved. Read a fuckin' book, it'll last longer. Kiss me on the collar bones, clavicles shone shining with slick saliva pining for my affections. You're clammerin' to feel me, clammin' up (Just feel me.) I want to run my hands through long hair and peg the nausea nervosa to the wall. The writing's on the wall:
The sun bent over so the moon could rise, chanting,
"Goodbye and good riddance,
I never wanted to shine down
on them seas o' tranquilities anyhow."
O' what a day. What a day.
And the wind ruffles leaves and it ruffles feathers on birds eating worms in brown soil.
What a day. What a day.
And the men under the bridge gather in traitorous conversation of governments overthrown and border dissolution and poetry with meters bent out of tune.
What a day. What a day.
And the billboards are dry for all the consumers to consume, use, and review.
What a day. What a day.
And hearts break messiest when you're not looking.
What a day. What a day.
And the ego and the id and the redwood trees are talking. They're sitting nude in the marshes, bathing in the bogwater while fondling foreign fine wines and whisperin' a'veerin' conversations towards topics kept well out of hand, out of the game, nontobe racin' in races, rampant radical racists betting bets on bent, bald Bolshevik racists wagging Marxist manifestos in the bourgeois' faces, yes. Make it be. Nontobe sanity as the captain creases his pleats, pleasin' her creases and the dewdrops of sweat trailing down the small of her back– down the ridge of her spine forming solitary springs of saline saltwater in the small of her back. Aye-aye, guy's pleasin' a'makin' choices a'steerin'– government's a'veerin' a hard left into the ice.
Danger in the icy 'berg!
None too soon a 'berg!
Bound to bump a 'berg!
O' inevitably unnerving 'berg!
Surveillance of sex and the sexes 'berg!
O' fatalist fetishist 'berg!
Benevolent big brother 'berg!
Homosocial socialization 'berg!
Romanticized Roman 'berg!
O' virginal mother 'berg!
City on a hill on a 'berg!
Subtly socialist 'berg!
O' illustrious libertine 'berg!
Freedom of the people 'berg!
Water privatization 'berg!
Alcohol idolization 'berg!
O' corrupt and courageous 'berg!
Church and a stately 'berg!
Pray to your ceiling fan 'berg!
Biblically borne 'berg!
O' godly and gorgeous 'berg!
Ferocious freedom fighters launching lackluster demonstrations far too post-demonstration feeling liberty and love, la vie en rouge, revolving revolutionist ranting on revolution tangible as
an ice cold 'berg.
O' the 'berg, the damned iceberg–
You'll be the death of me.
Do you smell the chaotic drift around?
Do you see the darkness, not yet found?
Can you hear the burning temples of unloyalty and ungratefulness towards ancestors?
Can you feel the presence of disorder?
Do you recognize the hate for people over the border?
The disruption won't come to an end, until the last person of our civilization went,
Down to non-existence of men.
We can't just dwell, we're under constant surveillance of people who were told what to do.
They're a bunch of freaking morons.
And we listen and obey.
So that makes us...
A bunch of freaking morons!
We just do as we're told, do what we're supposed to do!
We don't think for ourselves, we're not free!
We aren't nice, we're freaking mean!
We'll never be satisfied, we consume till we're unable to!
We don't share our food, because we worked for it ourselves!
They should earn their own!
We hate the people we don't know, and prejudice is our best friend!