goodmorning-myles - Hello Poetry

Place the moniters on the right surface. Everything dances to a diferent frequency, hert Scanning a pond of rocks Recognizing Each fingerprint, pit, dimple I rerealize now the specificity of everything And amplify anything listening in on the correct…. His/her voice can be heard A medium is its own sea.

0

Jun 14, 2016

Jun 14, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC

Latest Epiphany

Place the moniters on the right surface. Everything dances to a diferent frequency, hert Scanning a pond of rocks Recognizing Each fingerprint, pit, dimple I rerealize now the specificity of everything And amplify anything listening in on the correct…. His/her voice can be heard A medium is its own sea.

9

I think the king left you a message, Ole Miss Stop and learn to let go. Before you squatted over his drum major baton And let “the n word” strut across living rooms. Stop and learn to let go? I learned in textbooks about when The ****** strutted across the living room You made him fetch more ice to fill the lemonade lifestyle. I learned in textbooks about when You claimed to hate my sable hue. My people still spray lemonade flavored perfume on this Lifestyle I run now. Something backwards remains: The claim to hate my sable hue. Though now you wear it for fun The lifestyle I run somehow remains backwards The glorified get picked from trees. And now they wear it for fun: The color of the dirt from which the lemons burst The glorified get picked from trees And when life gives you those lemons, you make lemonade.

0

Apr 14, 2016

Apr 14, 2016 at 12:51 PM UTC

black Party (modern minstrel show)

I think the king left you a message, Ole Miss Stop and learn to let go. Before you squatted over his drum major baton And let “the n word” strut across living rooms. Stop and learn to let go? I learned in textbooks about when The ****** strutted across the living room You made him fetch more ice to fill the lemonade lifestyle. I learned in textbooks about when You claimed to hate my sable hue. My people still spray lemonade flavored perfume on this Lifestyle I run now. Something backwards remains: The claim to hate my sable hue. Though now you wear it for fun The lifestyle I run somehow remains backwards The glorified get picked from trees. And now they wear it for fun: The color of the dirt from which the lemons burst The glorified get picked from trees And when life gives you those lemons, you make lemonade.

20

I can't help but think of the scores of demons dying halfway across the planet in my backyard In my house People filling their bellies with opinions on things they know nothing of But this doesn't do as much damage as the real work there are those killing taking action taking lives in real time trying their hardest to beat the tally to beat the board in this bored *** life I almost respect them for wanting to make a dent of their own Cataclysmic, wiping dinosaurs clean whipping amoebas and monkeys into shape Doing something is better than drowning in möbius waves of linens and comforters My rabbit hole hand looking dried and thirsty while cupping the brook side run off Tongue lapping ****** sores on the outskirts of my only remaining power source I stay silent and let loose control of the scores Like justice, unbiased And of course I am still looking forward to a slick hair back And focus time.

0

Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC

terminus

I can't help but think of the scores of demons dying halfway across the planet in my backyard In my house People filling their bellies with opinions on things they know nothing of But this doesn't do as much damage as the real work there are those killing taking action taking lives in real time trying their hardest to beat the tally to beat the board in this bored *** life I almost respect them for wanting to make a dent of their own Cataclysmic, wiping dinosaurs clean whipping amoebas and monkeys into shape Doing something is better than drowning in möbius waves of linens and comforters My rabbit hole hand looking dried and thirsty while cupping the brook side run off Tongue lapping ****** sores on the outskirts of my only remaining power source I stay silent and let loose control of the scores Like justice, unbiased And of course I am still looking forward to a slick hair back And focus time.

20

Named after the Son of the ***** Found the light while looking for the switch In the waves Can't compare a life to how insane I am How are you? How is the man Standing at 6 three in a couples years will have knee pains Longer than the synapse that runs from the hip to the chest to the cranium Worried about fleek game and the cruise ending At any moment now Peace flees and crows cackle yowl Holistic tendencies I try to keep up And I think the time has come again to bends too and fro With the wind, like a limb Begging to just say I know, Nope. There's more after the falling action of the sad story. I wanna say that a podium waits beneath a Jumbotron, with furious music, and o positive dripping it's ****** self down onto it Like the excess acrylic From a mural Slipping it's way into another mural, Oh god. (!) I said, I saw you in the cracks between the tile ! The cements My hearts rots volatile while my babied mind wants repents. I really don't wanna know how you are, what u are, whoever you are. I just wanna praise you, Extend my exalt in perfect symmetry out from me. Gimme the high and the lows Friends and foes The cup runneth over and hits the ground but the fountain continues to pour Each side Gimme ..... ...... ...... ....... Whatever it takes.

0

Mar 21, 2016

Mar 21, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC

Untitled

Named after the Son of the ***** Found the light while looking for the switch In the waves Can't compare a life to how insane I am How are you? How is the man Standing at 6 three in a couples years will have knee pains Longer than the synapse that runs from the hip to the chest to the cranium Worried about fleek game and the cruise ending At any moment now Peace flees and crows cackle yowl Holistic tendencies I try to keep up And I think the time has come again to bends too and fro With the wind, like a limb Begging to just say I know, Nope. There's more after the falling action of the sad story. I wanna say that a podium waits beneath a Jumbotron, with furious music, and o positive dripping it's ****** self down onto it Like the excess acrylic From a mural Slipping it's way into another mural, Oh god. (!) I said, I saw you in the cracks between the tile ! The cements My hearts rots volatile while my babied mind wants repents. I really don't wanna know how you are, what u are, whoever you are. I just wanna praise you, Extend my exalt in perfect symmetry out from me. Gimme the high and the lows Friends and foes The cup runneth over and hits the ground but the fountain continues to pour Each side Gimme ..... ...... ...... ....... Whatever it takes.

31

for those readers of the word of the day. for those obsessively trying to climb over the trench that confines the most low self esteem, to be dragged lower by the next coup de etat a ruse set by demons ****** to be aroused by demons…. The leaking turned screaming at the back of the eyelids that open, and over sharpen the light. if one could always see that tattoo that you stained into the oblique in that prolonged moment of prowess you told them to place ‘pain is but a creation of the mind.’ in trying to find air between sobs you will find that, this may be the best time to fail. for you who wants to improve so bad, aspire to fail. whip the Clydesdale on the blinders that have your morphic cycle **** out of luck, and foolstruck by a rut. close your mouth, and open your ears… listen for that whistling can’t you hear it coming from the breeze that was started when that door was shut in your face and the window became an opportune ESCAPE. Oh, how just breathing has become an escape for me though every second a hilarious shot at my wee existence, and my peers take peeks at their phones and google for brains and I, stand at the peak with one foot already convicted to a leap wondering what will save one more sole i wonder if they would take deep breathes between cries pull their neck back for a rest and continually search for the remnant of that release and find it again.

0

Feb 16, 2016

Feb 16, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC

singultus

for those readers of the word of the day. for those obsessively trying to climb over the trench that confines the most low self esteem, to be dragged lower by the next coup de etat a ruse set by demons ****** to be aroused by demons…. The leaking turned screaming at the back of the eyelids that open, and over sharpen the light. if one could always see that tattoo that you stained into the oblique in that prolonged moment of prowess you told them to place ‘pain is but a creation of the mind.’ in trying to find air between sobs you will find that, this may be the best time to fail. for you who wants to improve so bad, aspire to fail. whip the Clydesdale on the blinders that have your morphic cycle **** out of luck, and foolstruck by a rut. close your mouth, and open your ears… listen for that whistling can’t you hear it coming from the breeze that was started when that door was shut in your face and the window became an opportune ESCAPE. Oh, how just breathing has become an escape for me though every second a hilarious shot at my wee existence, and my peers take peeks at their phones and google for brains and I, stand at the peak with one foot already convicted to a leap wondering what will save one more sole i wonder if they would take deep breathes between cries pull their neck back for a rest and continually search for the remnant of that release and find it again.

46

I sink deeper into the atmosphere we were responsible for, in silence my eyelids and I fight the sunlight’s slow and crescendoing intrusion, wondering if she is still asleep or if she realized by now that every time she makes the slightest fidget away from the center of the bed I bite her right where her lower abs meet her hip flexor on the outside I wanted to have her learn I am consistent. she didn’t have to give consent, degenerates like me don’t care if I want the cake and proceed to eat it before day break then so be it. Nuzzling now her lips press their frozen presence into the space under my jaw and a warm gust of her pushes my sideburns up my chest jumps lumps in my veins snowball and create the feel of cherry bombs popping at every nerve ending I had forgotten it rings me. how could I let her trick me into jostling my babe awake? and all before the alarm. I grow the wings of a vicious pelican, expanding my span using my featherish lips to attack her out of cryostasis she curls up, afraid of more laughter and pushes her tongue through the gap she made between her bottom and top rows of teeth. she glows better than the bringer of days the sun must find me insane.

0

Sep 25, 2015

Sep 25, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC

our second try (room 318)

I sink deeper into the atmosphere we were responsible for, in silence my eyelids and I fight the sunlight’s slow and crescendoing intrusion, wondering if she is still asleep or if she realized by now that every time she makes the slightest fidget away from the center of the bed I bite her right where her lower abs meet her hip flexor on the outside I wanted to have her learn I am consistent. she didn’t have to give consent, degenerates like me don’t care if I want the cake and proceed to eat it before day break then so be it. Nuzzling now her lips press their frozen presence into the space under my jaw and a warm gust of her pushes my sideburns up my chest jumps lumps in my veins snowball and create the feel of cherry bombs popping at every nerve ending I had forgotten it rings me. how could I let her trick me into jostling my babe awake? and all before the alarm. I grow the wings of a vicious pelican, expanding my span using my featherish lips to attack her out of cryostasis she curls up, afraid of more laughter and pushes her tongue through the gap she made between her bottom and top rows of teeth. she glows better than the bringer of days the sun must find me insane.

29

A yell for the child comes with momentum It shakes a creak out of each elderly step and surrounding glass fixture Wailing wakes the set of mahogany stairs before stopping at the moat of the dudette’s dungeon Kaboom, it kicked the door in on the dream Enter a flow of sunlight Now visible dancing off the sweaty leaves and onto the walls of the hallway Leaping onto the eyelids of our beholder She turns to face the wall This empty vessel isn't ready The yelling quickly becomes relevant As it Sharpens into an irritating spear Creating unwanted foramen Making mesh out of the impermeable cushion enveloping the chrysalised girl The parent is a lackluster alarm clock that she bought But still wants to beat the **** out of. Though they serve their purpose the half conscious tend to be ungrateful A smile breaks open now knowing such noxious noise is futile Fighting the lull that was already present in the room. Going through the first motions her feet find a base and her socks slide dangerously over splinters and thornish nails peaking out of the floorboards The drums of her feet meeting the stairs announce her arrival. On the first floor there awaits a vision of her childhood Her father watching programs and eating breakfast with Charles Osgood and his correspondents Mother making moves towards the car. She’s surprised The sweet smell tricked the girl into believing adventure land had been relocated to her kitchen. She witnesses Bands of fibrous smoke slide off of the bacon And harden as happiness on the rims of her nostrils Her hunger whispers clear thoughts and primitive instincts from her core And a shell of rubber pellets is released to ricochet around in the girls belly like a couple of quarters in a piggy bank - Wants reverberate and drive up her throat Driving her hands to the cooler of the three tired skillets She does a quick but thorough survey of the stove top eyes hitting every grease patch and Yellow egg puddle worth avoiding Sitting at the galaxy black table Jaw tensing against its will Gums sweating and shocked anxious Tastebuds wiggling into the room left available by the imagination Eager on ripping into fattening pleasure Osgood leads them into their moment of Zen to be ended at the pace of the subject Father different from daughter Daughter different than the mother.

0

Sep 25, 2015

Sep 25, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC

Sun Day

A yell for the child comes with momentum It shakes a creak out of each elderly step and surrounding glass fixture Wailing wakes the set of mahogany stairs before stopping at the moat of the dudette’s dungeon Kaboom, it kicked the door in on the dream Enter a flow of sunlight Now visible dancing off the sweaty leaves and onto the walls of the hallway Leaping onto the eyelids of our beholder She turns to face the wall This empty vessel isn't ready The yelling quickly becomes relevant As it Sharpens into an irritating spear Creating unwanted foramen Making mesh out of the impermeable cushion enveloping the chrysalised girl The parent is a lackluster alarm clock that she bought But still wants to beat the **** out of. Though they serve their purpose the half conscious tend to be ungrateful A smile breaks open now knowing such noxious noise is futile Fighting the lull that was already present in the room. Going through the first motions her feet find a base and her socks slide dangerously over splinters and thornish nails peaking out of the floorboards The drums of her feet meeting the stairs announce her arrival. On the first floor there awaits a vision of her childhood Her father watching programs and eating breakfast with Charles Osgood and his correspondents Mother making moves towards the car. She’s surprised The sweet smell tricked the girl into believing adventure land had been relocated to her kitchen. She witnesses Bands of fibrous smoke slide off of the bacon And harden as happiness on the rims of her nostrils Her hunger whispers clear thoughts and primitive instincts from her core And a shell of rubber pellets is released to ricochet around in the girls belly like a couple of quarters in a piggy bank - Wants reverberate and drive up her throat Driving her hands to the cooler of the three tired skillets She does a quick but thorough survey of the stove top eyes hitting every grease patch and Yellow egg puddle worth avoiding Sitting at the galaxy black table Jaw tensing against its will Gums sweating and shocked anxious Tastebuds wiggling into the room left available by the imagination Eager on ripping into fattening pleasure Osgood leads them into their moment of Zen to be ended at the pace of the subject Father different from daughter Daughter different than the mother.

43

Get up and dance Put on those moccasins that make you move from out in France  Into the Indies then Polynesian isles. Pour the green skies upon those frozen and dried out.  Bring gratitude to those whom frequently pout  And the mission to gain commission How the mantras from mamas mouth  Shoot from the sky. So sly the way we will slip into the nostalgic reminisce  Lights on the red carpet  And the set of lies  Are we doing this?  We don't mention How Buddha ******  Budapest in the name of the most auromatheraputic  And orginally tell the Chinese nike labourers who do this.  Though they suit me,  I resuit this with prudent force for those law benders  Of the b.a.r. We will cough on tough tycoons and yet bow to stars.  Oh my legend, how far have we looked and have we come  Jumping out of the Nintendo Nes(t) We have entertained our self enough   We've won son. But find me lagging on a wooden broom  Brimming on the outskirts of your psyche  Just when you thought  Sike you didn't not cite me. Please bibliograph my flight plan or pattern  And as you gaze upon the moon I make my second meander on Saturn  The orbit  In finding sudden satisfaction with norbit  I've asked. How bliss is ignorance?  We blend all the blinding lights of the prism and still white and ****  Siss  Disdain on dose dat ain't domestic  Still ******* kicking and  My legs are there to test this  Theory  and jeering with slack  I'm looking back.  I fear the peers of tired whites and blacks  Those that act that they have nothing to loose  By continually hitting the snooze  Oh we will leave you like leaves grounded in the grooves  These four leaf clues  Clovers, slipping out of my palms  Mark you like wolverines claws  Like jar heads Jumpin in to the jabber jagged jaw of jaws  Subservient marine.  Prate in the truth of those words until you(they) know just what they mean.  Ya seen?  Good?

0

Jun 22, 2015

Jun 22, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC

Justforyou.

Get up and dance Put on those moccasins that make you move from out in France  Into the Indies then Polynesian isles. Pour the green skies upon those frozen and dried out.  Bring gratitude to those whom frequently pout  And the mission to gain commission How the mantras from mamas mouth  Shoot from the sky. So sly the way we will slip into the nostalgic reminisce  Lights on the red carpet  And the set of lies  Are we doing this?  We don't mention How Buddha ******  Budapest in the name of the most auromatheraputic  And orginally tell the Chinese nike labourers who do this.  Though they suit me,  I resuit this with prudent force for those law benders  Of the b.a.r. We will cough on tough tycoons and yet bow to stars.  Oh my legend, how far have we looked and have we come  Jumping out of the Nintendo Nes(t) We have entertained our self enough   We've won son. But find me lagging on a wooden broom  Brimming on the outskirts of your psyche  Just when you thought  Sike you didn't not cite me. Please bibliograph my flight plan or pattern  And as you gaze upon the moon I make my second meander on Saturn  The orbit  In finding sudden satisfaction with norbit  I've asked. How bliss is ignorance?  We blend all the blinding lights of the prism and still white and ****  Siss  Disdain on dose dat ain't domestic  Still ******* kicking and  My legs are there to test this  Theory  and jeering with slack  I'm looking back.  I fear the peers of tired whites and blacks  Those that act that they have nothing to loose  By continually hitting the snooze  Oh we will leave you like leaves grounded in the grooves  These four leaf clues  Clovers, slipping out of my palms  Mark you like wolverines claws  Like jar heads Jumpin in to the jabber jagged jaw of jaws  Subservient marine.  Prate in the truth of those words until you(they) know just what they mean.  Ya seen?  Good?

55

what a shame it is i dont know a ******* thing about you mama

0

Apr 24, 2015

Apr 24, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC

africa

what a shame it is i dont know a ******* thing about you mama

3

Southern shells – or longitude it’s rude to discuss such a rough location – but I’m a ***** to such provocation. destiny’s Vacation in a nation with ****** – nonchalantly run a muck. total *** or ******** visible I don’t believe the natives can purchase ***** a loss of bucks is inherent to those who want. bring your paranoia to a paranormal place where paintings haunt or move around after your heat signature. can he make this make meaning? i am the dignitor. a broken side of a square to settle the score if you weren't sure. stressed to proceed with thee program. the waves can crash on shape and make ham sandwiches which is beautiful. in the eye of the beholder, hold on I’ve smoldered all of my calls. put a hold on the fourth wall – I can and swam into the shallow. tribune myself to the tropical Loch Ness fall fourth to the shadow. let us Dive further. amphibious herder of the deep stay afloat on a personal boat to return to sleep.

0

Jan 3, 2015

Jan 3, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC

Where can we take this?

Southern shells – or longitude it’s rude to discuss such a rough location – but I’m a ***** to such provocation. destiny’s Vacation in a nation with ****** – nonchalantly run a muck. total *** or ******** visible I don’t believe the natives can purchase ***** a loss of bucks is inherent to those who want. bring your paranoia to a paranormal place where paintings haunt or move around after your heat signature. can he make this make meaning? i am the dignitor. a broken side of a square to settle the score if you weren't sure. stressed to proceed with thee program. the waves can crash on shape and make ham sandwiches which is beautiful. in the eye of the beholder, hold on I’ve smoldered all of my calls. put a hold on the fourth wall – I can and swam into the shallow. tribune myself to the tropical Loch Ness fall fourth to the shadow. let us Dive further. amphibious herder of the deep stay afloat on a personal boat to return to sleep.

31