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Arcassin B Apr 2019
By Arcassin Burnham


Won't you take it off baby,
Don't you rush baby,
Match each others auras,
Come combine with me baby,
Won't you take it off baby,
Vibe with me baby,
reach inside each other,
While our hearts are still beating,
take it off baby,
Won't you take it off baby,
I don't want to degrade ya,
Wanna call you my lady,
Let's go somewhere private.

Girl we've been planning for weeks,
I been with you almost a year,
You're blowing my mind everytime you
reply,
But I'm cutting off all of my peers,
Love when you display your kisses,
Carrying yourself like Hungarians,
Glad to be calling my misses while talking to you,
Misses by your hungry man,
Hungry for your love and touch,
You know I can't really get enough,
The sweetest of sweets like a swisher, your
chaining my heart with gold diamond cuffs,
When Heaven created love,
Baby they had you in mind,
I want every fiber of your being in this world , I'm glad to say your mine,

Won't you take it off baby,
Don't you rush baby,
Match each others auras,
Come combine with me baby,
Won't you take it off baby,
Vibe with me baby,
reach inside each other,
While our hearts are still beating,
take it off baby,
Won't you take it off baby,
I don't want to degrade ya,
Wanna call you my lady,
Let's go somewhere private.



Nothing much,
Nothing really ever going on,
Just the same old **** same old in a land filled with dust,
But not by much,
A typical day at the office , in the backyard with a cigar filled tree herbs,
And a drink or two sitting shirtless in all its hopeless glory,
Young black boy with a dream that he Invisioned as a child,
If theres dirt in the country , no church in the wild,
I sit and put on these fake smiles,
And they say how have you been in a while and I say nothing much,
And I say nothing much.
©abpoetry2019

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/p/indie-part-e.html
I won't do anything,
To help those in need,
But I beg and plead,
Put the weight on a stead,
To carry me,
Into a sight to see,
Of all this hatred,
This pain,
This suffering,
"Solved" by me,
Although I can,
Help a lot,
I have before,
Haven't been caught,
I just don't,
Wanna take credit,
For others work,
And then forget it,
I wanna be remembered,
In a friend's heart,
For a welcome embrace,
Or a friendly start,
Not the one,
Who made them feel ****,
About their insecurities,
Then say I fixed their heart.
I'm a good enough therapist, I won't push on teen life bored games, I will give you things from experience.  I still need to do other formats of poetry, so I might try a Haiku or something like that.  There is also slam, which I have been very curious about.  Can't wait to tell more emotions and stories through the arts of poetry.
There’s a difference between waiting, and being patient. I’ve been doin a lil bit a both but I guarantee you now, I’m done waiting. I’m going after .. just being patient.
Learn the difference between being patient and being lazy.
void Mar 2019
There is a form of missing you that I have not achieved yet
I have reached the stage of mediocrity
Or perhaps a feeling of indifference
I still fear old locations that once meant something
Nothing scares me more than the future
Nothing scares me more than knowing I'm not supposed to be here
But intimidation is only a cheap tactic I've used against me
How many more poems do I write about healing or moving on
Before I actually do something for it?
It's time I start moving on
It's time I feel something for once
Rather than just gaze lazily into a void of nothing
So that I become nothing
HJV Mar 2019
Everybody thinks Bobby stays in bed all day and that he does absolutely nothing. “Indolence in human form” is what they call him. In reality Bobby ponders one of life’s greatest mysteries day and night, he’s a student of being. “I Don’t fear A.I. rebellion” Bobby tells himself as he reflects on the futile and expedient nature of subjectivity. After many months of wrestling the behemoth that is Nihilism Bobby concluded that there was no intrinsic value to anything and that there was no reason to do anything. “You can’t derive an is from an ought” Bobby thought to himself. In that moment Bobby reached a new epiphany. There is no way of valuing anything in an objective manner, so therefore he couldn’t construct a dominance hierarchy of personal values, and thus he couldn’t justify getting out of bed or do anything for that matter. Bobby had justified his laziness.

Bobby never stopped thinking, Bobby wondered whether or not he should keep on existing. Since there was no objective value to anything, that, in turn meant that he had no value either. Bobby, human as he was, he was a rational man first. He wasn’t bothered by his own otiose nature. With this is mind he started to entertain a new thought. “Does a rational man choose to not exist?” Bobby thought to himself after pondering on subjective value. “Subjective value is our only hope for justifying existence!” Bobby exclaimed to his ceiling in his dim-lit basement room.

Rational as he was, Bobby still liked existing, it was something he never managed to explain. Apathetic in nature, he still felt a desire to be. The dichotomy he had become felt annoyingly quintessential. How could he, a rational man, not shake such irrational thoughts. After staring at his feet for some minutes he bequeathed himself to his human nature. “I’m but a talking monkey” he sighed.

Now a wiser man, Bobby shifted his philosophical gaze. He reasoned subjectivity, how could he maximize his experience, the only thing with potential for true, albeit subjective, value. “What stands atop the dominance hierarchy of subjective value?” Bobby wondered. After many journeys to the depths of his Being Bobby realized that love was the highest value. “What else is a better antidote to the chaos of consciousness?” Bobby asked aloud as if he wasn’t alone in his basement.

Other humans, Bobby knew they existed, but he never really spoke much with them. There was this one man he once knew though, Will was his name. Will was an odd fellow. Even though he didn’t owe someone a single thing, he would still always help everyone. “There’s a natural law of karma” is what he would always say. As Bobby recounts the memories of Will he starts to question the irrational nature of karma. “Is karma measurable by science?” Bobby blurts out as he stretches himself out in his dusty bed. “All human processes can be calculated, granted we posses a powerful enough calculator.” Bobby said as he muffled his mouth with a pillow. Bobby considered his own proposition and after some minutes he yelled “If all can be calculated, then so can emotional in- and outputs!” as if he was standing in front of an audience. Bobby came to the conclusion that if those values could be measured then karma would be a mathematically substantiated concept. This thought made Bobby’s heart beat just a bit faster, but only just a bit.

Sleep was something not even Bobby could be too lazy to do. Bobby had passed out for some minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell. When he woke his mind wandered back to his unfinished mental quest. “How to maximize the amount of love in my subjective experience?” Bobby groggily said. He widened his eyes, “eureka!” he screamed. Will, he himself, and all of humanity were all connected, socially. When Bobby realized this he quickly reached his next conclusion. If he wanted to maximize his own subjective experience then he needed to maximize his output of the highest subjective value, love. Karma was a natural law after all, a mathematical one. Being yet wiser again Bobby started to ponder the ways of love.

“The more I love, the more subjectively pleased I become.” Bobby thought to himself as he adored his human nature. Now that he had found a rational way for value, albeit still subjective in nature, Bobby smiled. He knew that, although there was no intrinsic objective value in anything, there was still value in subjecting himself to his consciousness. “It makes me feel good, so why not.” he said victoriously.  Armed with karma Bobby ventured out from underneath his house. The sunlight on his skin made his sense tingle, for the first time in decades Bobby felt alive. People were shocked when they saw the once indolent man indolent no more.

Over the coming years Bobby had changed and the people with him. Bobby had become a pillar of support for his community, spreading his years of indolently bred wisdom. The people had started to call him Wise Bob. Now with Wise Bob’s stultifying lethargic behavior gone the people followed his lead by example. Wise Bob was no leader though, he was still but a student of being, but with a slightly larger Being. “Not wise enough.” he told one of his many friends. Wise Bob still felt his objective insignificance in his heart, but no longer as a nihilistic threat. His futility gave him meaning. Bringing order to the chaos of consciousness gave him responsibility and thus meaning. This meaning made his life worth living. “The collective human condition will fight off our dragons.” Bobby professed.

Bobby was a rational man, but a man still.
Not a poem, but poetic
Xgaizer Mar 2019
My head is still sleeping
My eyes a bit teary
My body is a bit slowly
I'm feeling cloudly
My breath is whispering
I'm to lazy its no Sunday
but it's Monday

I'm in my bed
under my sheet
pillow in my chest
the aircon is On
the window i close
I'm to lazy
its lazy Sunday but it's Monday
late post ehehe
jon Jan 2019
is laying in bed 'til 2 p.m.
thinking about everything else
that you could be doing
and
forgetting
everything
you
know

C.H.
Anya Jan 2019
My mind offers a compromise
Which is instantly refuted
Shot down
I’m absolutely amazed by the sheer
Number of superficial constraints placed
Upon me, my superstitions, my desires, my obligations
Each one currently impossibly to fulfill
Each side impossible to sait

And so,
A stalemate
Sitting here, doing nothing
Unmoving, but
Thoughts whirling about
Fidget spinners, or
Bablades repeatedly clashing
Repeatedly smashing
Till it’s just me and the broken debre

But,
All you see
Is a girl
Too lazy to move
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