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Zack Ripley Sep 2021
Memories. Dreams. Memories of Dreams. They're all proof life isn't lived completely linearly. That life isn't purely physical.
It doesn't have to be defined by what we see, smell, touch. We don't have to limit ourselves so much. Who cares if something seems impossible? We've been proven wrong before. There's still so much we don't know. So don't be afraid to explore.
Melody Mann Jun 2021
A treacherous journey one embarks on to heal,
With unexpected turns in the path it is not linear,
Through adversities there will be triumphs,
In hardship you will prevail,
Keep going in the direction the universe has set for you,
Keep growing at the pace that is right for you,
Individualize your experience and embrace your process,
You are deserving of the kindness bolstering within.
Abner Ros Nov 2020
The muted sound echoed like cathedral bells,
Followed by a hurried crowd
Of youngsters and ladies
Donning timeless frocks and shirts of old.

The courtyard green enchanted all.
Halting passers in transit,
An invitation to thy abode
Enclosed by young stargazers and aged bark alike.

The tempting branch reaches out.
Pulls you in with a faceless grin.
The torn frock all that remains in your world.
Timeless no longer.  

The New World opens before you,
A thundering display of welcome.
In a Time unlike yours
You sit.
Aashi Sinha Sep 2020
red eyes, green wine, weak smiles, hollow cheeks, shallow drips.

Dark, not Black.

a desire to be linear, now crowded with curves
sickly sweet
sarcastically sour
no longer sweet, just sour

hot on cold, cold on hot, sweet and sour but sour and sour
tick tick tick, did it feel?
tick tick tick, did you feel?
failed when born, how can change it all, before dawn?
Simon Jul 2020
Simply because it isn’t exactly affected by something prone to burst out and gut you like an already survival pig! Because as chaotically funny as that truly sounds… One is not of the baseline rhythm for a linear line to cut ties with something meant to both simulate and represent the most basic primitive logic surrounding every step you take without deciding to either pivot from the actual issue to ignore pleasure for clarity, sidestep yourself clean off the map to avoid (yet again) another “purposeful collision”, and then bobbing and weaving to perfectly ignore what you’ve already known to be the mere gesture for your very focused survival while purposely caring to ignore ALL it’s benefits. Or you simply jumble one step ahead of the other (one after the other like a very thin tightrope) as those very steps carelessly wobbles off the perfectly laid out linear line too straight for focus to just (right then and there) be taken off course…immediately! Showing how messy your showboating everyday basic performance around everyday life truly is when slipping up to threaten the obvious away from something you just want to carefully patch up and ignore. Since the ONLY benefit you trust the absolute MOST…is your own decisions to ignore the baseline reality who’s forgotten its own benefits away from what a single linear line is all about. Especially when that single linear lined point, is where you will both fail, (only to RISE again)! In hopes to tumble ALL OVER AGAIN! Showing that a linear line breaks baseline reality when you prolong the impending issue away from the logic quickly withering away without calm dispositions measuring out of control, when it’s really “measuring control” itself too carefully for focus to ever be the real medium. Meaning there’s too many mix-ups in baseline reality itself to not just be either the one making those careful steps giving off the obvious of messing up on purposely to urge a linear line that they are the one missing it’s own benefits directly, for desperation at never again finding it's own way through. To (yet again) a never-ending choice for survival to be (“gutted like an already survival pig”) for not seeing the obvious sooner, rather then later. Especially when the benefits actually course corrects NO other route, except for a single linear lined point to be too confusing not to see its own destination properly. Especially when there’s NO single destination for when there’s NO ending point of such a thing that’s “destined” to be a never-ending linear line going on forevermore. Never thinking of many shortcomings to bear witness to, when it could go on a forever “nondirectional” state without ANY distractions available to suddenly swerve it off course and force it (anyways) to bear witness to then direction itself. Something like (direction) it knows little about when also being forced to take on a thing called “responsibility”. (Which sort of adds into sorting out the VERY trippy elements of luck from an assorting categorization!) That quickly turns into an impending consequence!
A linear line is not something you can just play around with in hopes that it would make you a better person. (You do as you “should” be doing that for yourself…!) Whilst a very normal and typical baseline reality doesn’t just laugh at the very commands of an individual’s actions. It literally tries to “shoo” you away when you aren’t acting in it’s very best interests for a proper protocol to perform with. While baseline reality doesn’t even see the BIGGEST problem in itself for what the “benefits” in a linear line could really do for itself. Again, whilst a linear line can’t even reason what’s solely known as a clear distinction of what a “direction” is truly ALL about!
annh Dec 2019
‘How quaint,’ remarked Mistress Hora as she turned the afternoon on its head, ‘that you would consider time to be a linear construct.’

‘Positively post-historic,’ agreed Master O’Clock, nodding his head in perfect synchrony with the orchestra that played inside his ear. Today was Waltzday (or so he had named it), an interminable reminder that atomic metronomes particularly those of Viennese manufacture were not to be trifled with.

‘Be assured, my dears, that this fancy is a passing one and exists only as a fleeting extemporaneous distraction,’ our Mistress continued. The first year students breathed a collective sigh of relief. ‘Now, I want no clumping, no running ahead, and NO helical improvisation. When yesterday’s fish and chips come wrapped in tomorrow’s newspaper it gives our school a most unfortunate reputation.’ The class chortled as one. ‘Most importantly, please remember to take your pocket guide.’

I reached for my bedraggled copy of The Theory of Chronometrical Fluidity: Compressed Edition and wrung the pages out. I had failed badly at applied clepsydrics and my cousin Widget wasn’t letting me forget it. From behind the glass, I spotted her playing a furtive game of Gregorian and by the look on her face February was winning. I blew her a lemniscate to grab her attention. She scowled, looked up from her losing streak and giggled when she saw me spiralling in her direction. ‘Good luck,’ she spiralled back.

Miss Hora flexed her wrist and glanced at her temporal transponder. ‘You will be marked on cuneiformity, consistency, and rate of continuance. Now be off with you. Tempus fugit!’ With a flick of her bejangled fingers she opened the S.A.N.D. grates. I held my breath and jumped.
I couldn’t get hour glasses out of my head, and overnight my poem became a drabble. In my travels through Wiki-land I discovered that a clepsydra was a water clock, a device used by the ancients to measure time during night hours when sundials were reduced to decorative but functionless masonry. A lemniscate is the symbol for infinity, the horizontal figure-eight of algebraic theory.

‘Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.’
- Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
At times they were just plain words on paper
and at times they were expressive and powerful poetry.
At times it was paint spilled all over
and at times it was a masterpiece.
At times it was a stress
and at times it was a relief.

I guess
progress was never meant to be linear.
It was never meant to be all flow
without ebb.
It was never supposed to be all great and good,
but neither were these times supposed to have the power
to bring you down to give up,
because you feel it will never be good enough.
neth jones Jun 2018
I must reflesh my memory
It's getting gammy in here
Flush it
Charcoal silt, pured water and oxygen
Prey attention to memory
Tend to it
Till it
Till it's clear and consistent in it's dishonesty :
A single picture
One linear note
And no deviation.
Do not expect a linear path
Nor a strictly circular one
Though you meander one foot to the next
In cyclical, somewhat predictable rhythms.
Do not expect clouds to behave,
Mountains to hold,
Or branches to grow.
Do not expect bridges to stand the test
of time that even trees cannot.
Do not expect your golden shot today
to hold your interest next go round the wheel.
Do not expect a clear and simple reward.
Rather, take what you can,
Whenever you can,
Drink it in,
Make it a part of you
For the next go round.
Inktober Prompt: Crooked
Rules: The poem is whatever comes out of the pen, no edits allowed.
xmxrgxncy Oct 2016
Numbers are swirling in my head
I regret regression
But I have to graph instead
Of a gossip session.
just sitting in my precalc class and wondering what's going through other girls' heads. funny, really, because i can bet you almost none of them are thinking about math.
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