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alexa Apr 2018
the first time i heard the words
"greater than the sum of its parts"
my mind drifted to you, of course
because of your shattered soul and misplaced mind
always too much or not enough
of everything.
but soon the branches starting
tap tap tapping
at my window, owls waking me up
to whisper your secrets in my ears.
the first time you looked at me with your cerulean eyes
and made me a promise you soon broke,
i eagerly forgave you,
for i could not resist the sugar trickling off your words.
then it happened a second time, a third
a fourth
a fifth
and now, i can't remember what it's like for you to
actually make promises you'll keep.
the owls visited me last night and
with their words, it was the first time i thought that
maybe your whole is
less than the sum of your parts.
love this quote "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts"
also experimenting with different writing prompts which is why some of my titles are like this
Nayana Nair Apr 2018
While the world can preach
of greater pain
and complain of shallow hearts
that never look out of themselves.
They never see the the windows of their heart
that were nailed shut
from outside.
Michael Mar 2018
I am more than the imperfections of my flesh.
More than an unorganized stack of papers riddled with typos.
More than a DVR for tragedy.
More than a play button for anxiety.

I am more the sum of all my parts.
More than the equations of my mind.
More than clicks on a keyboard.
More than words on a screen.

I am less than you.
Less than the seconds that you waste.
Less than the words that you are pantomiming.
Less than the poems that you've read.

But we are equals behind our eyes.

a gal who regularly wires
and treads by ap ply ying instant feed that tires
meself to spin (and/or doctor aa previous write
   cuz, mum Madge gin nation
   flecked with a notion of Elizabeth Squires,
whose literary appetite requires
meat hoo summon all my brain cells -
   exhausting mental effort forces hires
help full doppelganger for whatever
   supplemental effort this chap re choirs.

:。✿゚‘゚・✿.。.i'm a geico caveman  

Enter prize zing wit

read none, some, or all the following aye writ
   eight nine two nine while i ad mitt
to be upon porcelain goddess,
a brilliant idea in mind did lit
   though not b4 this seasoned bugs bunny
   car tune character son of blank kit -

a trickster - took me as raw pressed dough
   n proof pork **** rib rocked
   instant karma bitta bing bitta bang - loosed ten chin
   n wrought genesis as son of well bread Inuit  -
   igloo cradled helix nomad,
   which gene net turn pronounced me a beatnik
   b4 i went on the road - imagination
   fired up with fleeting thoughts, that softly hit
futilely attempting tin nay shuss lee
   by skein of teeth, er...dentures, they flit
nonetheless, I yam a poet favoring words that rhyme a bit.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

iambic pentameter strands crochet themselves
   magically into verse
interleaving like boughs of an arbor
   stellar solar shield entombing solitary soul
   ***** wonk ah shaky spear shafts of sunlight dapple
   the canopy affecting shadows to disperse
ebbing and flowing in tandem & sync
   ably built circadian metronome
   doth oscillate rousing trolling minstrel
   transformed by hypnotic tolling serenade
   from mother nature snapchatting son
   sans, eternal sleep tightens with scythe lent funereal curse
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

congregating amongst distinguished
   flora and fauna, the latter sending tendrils
poised on brink of philosophical revelation
   delicate as hocked china
which capricious metaphorical musings as a minority
reporter - resurrected and crowd-sourced from propriety
devoid of vicious evocations, nor premonitions
while ensconced in eyesight viz myopic quality
of my adobe dwelling away from mass of society
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

whence return of this native
   Norwegian bachelor wannabe son
   doth pond door, what lake woebegone harbors
   garrison against madding crowd,
   who cease, dwindle n evaporate
   less than effect of a mosquito
   needling proboscis in nape o me neck,
this contemplative human being
   feels leaves of grass like
   a tea zing whit tilling man wit spindle
   completing colorful pastoral palette
   of utmost verdant splendor upon flotsam speck
allowing wisps of euphoria to warm tinder psyche
   easing books set afire to kindle
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

under azure mortise tenon soundcloud
   rigged tenebrous vault
the entire warp and woof one mortal male
   lies beneath celestial sphere transfixed vista
   akin to primates who preceded him
millenniums forebears
   moost likely similarly inebriated
   from wondrous panoply of one star
comprises a near infinite candelabra
   guiding ma mind to posit infinite universe.

Jon Thenes Nov 2017
here we are
wiffs and flavours
readings for life ;
daring and musing
tentacle tips
impulse ;
to the senses
of a greater being.
Gabriel burnS Sep 2017
The negative image of a drop in the sea...
All of my burning, reduced
To a spark in hell;
And if I escaped
I know what awaits,
That the sky would fall;
Heaven bright ablaze,
Every breath exhaled
Now holds the promise of
The cheapest ending yet
But I’m holding on
To seeing out the next sunset
Äŧül Nov 2016
Is someone's EGO,
For satiating their ego,
They will go to any extent.
HP Poem #1282
©Atul Kaushal
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