#isaac
bind me like my name sake
i can feel myself chase not replace
i cannot believe the hues of this
i cannot believe i bruised like this
purple and black, green and blue
i am studying the ways of my wounds
i bleed for a reason, my mind isn’t treason
i am able to move
bind me like my name sake
property to the prophecy
i am the sacrifice, surrender properly
bind me like my name sake
genesis, it has been written
genesis, allow the beginning
May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 11:12 AM UTC
my life is a rollercoaster
point blank period
I always know what fearlessness is
I always understand the rush of belief
but sometimes I want everything to stop
to exist in a pocket of time, to do whatever I like
not be pushed and pulled
hauled and trawled
stalled and enthralled
if I had a penny for every scream
I would be able to relish in greed
I am so envious, what would it be like not to live like this
but this is me and I am incomplete without the rollercoaster
so I guess I have to enjoy my sh*t
Dec 3, 2021
Dec 3, 2021 at 12:48 PM UTC
it's your arms.. and your face
it's your body... and your warm embrace
it's your lips... and the heart I trace
Fatal position but not the same
Somehow different, but consistent
The ying to my yang, opposition
Usually tame but feeling open
Nuclear Nectarine; our bodies are fluent
In speech beyond movements eat into my aura
Love beyond emotion dive into my pandora
The love conceiving anew, the bloom of flora
So scary but so sweet, so foreign to me
The bomb discreet, explode onto me
Grip my body as you reaching the peak
Don't let your ego control you let your soul speak
Nuclear Nectarine
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 1:27 PM UTC
Attendees at the game of the gods,
come in three
Pythogorean sorts:
First kinds are the lovers of wisdom,
the second are the lovers of honor and
the third are the lovers of gains.
----------------
Ah, now, now
There is a demon
of the old kind attempting me
to lashout
my flagella and wipe my competitors from the stream
in this
only race that counts,
first and only, no second place in this race
to pass
through
into the egg, where life, as we know it begins.
All I brought, my entire being
as a cellulate entity with a will to win, is absorbed into
her.
Here, she perfects that which concerns me,
my will is done. I won.
Or did the others fail? Should I have slowed and let
another pierce this egg
and marvel at its works, while I am left useless forever?
Nay, or why would I retain this will to win?
Or this will to
calmly carry on, knowing now, this final phase in the course
of compleat being becoming,
slow and steady sets the pace,
right
up to now, k-pow, push meets shove and I win again,
recalling the joy when
I, the wiggly carrier of all that made me possible,
pass through your attentive staring, sorting egg-eye
maybe,
osmotical magical silliness wells up in me.
I was chosen. Or formed to fit, this
complex knot
lock meet for me, the key
ingredi-ant,
in ever stories provoking old men to grow on.
----------
Strange though it be, true,
Isaac Bashevis Singer inspires me, with words he left behind
for just this reason.
From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac_Bashevis_Singer>
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 12:12 PM UTC
Jerusalem, will of Man, of Ishmael, and not Isaac
Dome of the Rock and not House of God
A constant thorn and not peace of the Earth
We weep as those who wept at the Second Temple
Jerusalem, a lure, a trap, a stumbling block, a sieve
********** to false prophets and worldly kings
As Ishmael sent away, so shall Jerusalem be exiled
For One greater than the Temple is here: Immanuel
Jerusalem, Bride of God, shall descend from above
Trumpet blasts in skies, the world shall see and mourn
All Israel gathered and her enemies judged
The kingdom of the world becomes the kingdom of God
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
Why Newton would tell you not to wear a seat belt
Going two miles-per-hour you’ll hurt yourself casually,
But if you add a zero to that you will be hurt incredibly.
Fine day we’re having, sure but the roads do look nasty.
No i’m sure it’ll be fine. But little did they know
their brains are soon to look like,
Well, dead brains.
Speeding two-zero-miles-per-hour,
Then in a flash, hearing scorn from Simon Cowl.
They’re in hell now,
Feeling very dead now.
This poem is deteriorating.
But it still rhymes.
So entertaining.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 3:20 PM UTC
Until I lose my voice
and no one listens
the unsaid words of love
will accumulate
inside me,
and will appear on my face
like the flashes
from an electronic sign
whose bulbs have all blown
except for two or three
intermittently appearing
like a code
that no one but you
understands.
Until I lose my mind
with no one's help
the unthought thoughts
will accumulate
and be sacrificed
like my greatgrandfather,
an Isaac who wasn't spared.
And I, an Isaac who was,
was born under the sign of the ram,
to be sacrificed in other ways.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
While Abraham was binding Isaac
to Mount Moriah he was interrupted by
a knock at the door.
"Who could this be?" he thought.
"We don't even own a door," he cried.
So he continued binding Isaac to the
altar. Again, a knock that could make
the deaf hear. Abraham had to stop
and look for the door.
He yelled, "Leave me alone, I'm doing
God's work!" and returned to continue
the akedah. And again a knock interrupted
him, and again, and again---Abraham
did not know what to do, whether to laugh
or to cry.
And then he thought: "This will be
the history of my children. When we will
be doing our work or God's work there will
always come a knock at the door to interrupt
us...whether we own a door or not." And
it came to pass that the history of the Jews
is a history of interruptions.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
I keep planning conversations in my head
About pointless things or serious things
Ideas and planning
I always end up talking to you
I play a movie in my head of the scenes that might happen with every move I make
I think about what I would say and do if I got married to you " **** them all we did it!"
Or the conversation I would have if I met your dad and I was telling him what I liked to do "well that's a tough question I have a lot of angles to me"
Or the tougher conversations
Like having the conversation about us being official " this would be easier if we were ACTUALLY dating"
Most of these conversations never work out as planned, they never say the right things to set up my whole internal monologue and relinquish it all at once in a rehearsed flood.
I care about having the conversation that I think most about
"Can you stop being so mean?" "Can you stop lying to me?" "Tell me how you feel" "what do you want from me?" "Why do you even like me?" "Why did you come back into my life?" "Why can't you tell me how much you love me all the time?" "Why don't you ever tell me you're sorry?"
But I never get an answer in my head or in my life
It's just another one-sided conversation that I will have in my head
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
I'm Isaac
I'm 6'6
I'm what you call well built
I can lift and throw well, 300+ pounds
I have dark hair and bright blue eyes
I'm bad at poetry..... :P
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
i stand in front of the Bath,
Taking a moment to enjoy the experience before it starts.
Stream rises from the Surface,
Like butterflies over a field
of fresh spring blossoms
It hovers, seductively inviting me in with a lazy sense if urgency.
In the corner, a lone Candle flickers in the rising Steam,
Lazily shining its Light
Like a Capetonian on a lazy summers evening sipping wine under the setting sun.
The Water,
blue from the bubblebath,
Smells like an orange, ancient, triangular spire in the early dawn of Time.
The hot Water receives my body
And awakens hibernating skin
From its cold, white winter's slumber.
The curious Water
Finds its way all over my skin
In every corner it can,
It crawls into
And caresses me softly
Slowly I relax,
As Sir Isaac Newton makes my bath colder
And as my skin and water temperatures equalise
I lose all sense of self
Held afloat by the mighty Water
I gaze at the white bubbles
As they dance on my chest
Popping and merging
Reflecting light and whispering
Until I finally fall asleep in blissful relaxation.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
Dear Sir, I wish to lodge a strong protest
Against the upkeep of our college grounds;
This afternoon, my body was at rest
Beneath a shady tree, admiring sounds
Of blue birds calling one another. How
They sing their love of England's summer, joy
Effusing from their whistled tune; yet now
I fancy that their song is but a ploy
To captivate a poor soul such as I,
Who seeks to find solace from lectured tomes
And so reclines to watch the clouds float by.
Beneath the trees these blue birds call their homes,
My head was bruised by fruit they dropped on me!
I trust you understand the gravity?
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
"...Motus autem veros ex eorum causis, effectibus & apparentibus differentijs colligere, & contra, ex motibus seu veris seu apparentibus, eorum causas & effectus, docebitur fusius in sequentibus..."
D. Isaaci Newtoni.
There will be a sequence of unexpected statements. We understood, that this was said which likened the beginning to the continuation. It was the orchard from which delicious fruits displayed their love for the taste of them, the meanings. Seeds were harvested through the dimly perceived writings of ancient scholars.
{ [ c exp tan r ( x ) d w d r ] / ( d x ) }
= { [ ( k , h ) tau int g ( r ) d w d t ] / ( d f d v ) } .
Visited in the course of evolution, all realized the implication, that seasons would arrive from which the meeting of machines would be complementary like the force of a sports team. The objects gathering into droplets included the growth of sunlight transforming ashes; yet the dictionary is not to change.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
"...Ut si globi duo ad datam ab invicem distantiam filo intercedente connexi, revolverentur ur circa commune gravitatis centrum..."
D. Isaaci Newtoni.
From the level of the sea with its worlds of similarity and wonders of nature attracting beautiful birds, these ships fled to find the swirl reaching through to the floor. The ocean bed was dampened with the tears seen by the floating machine.
{ [ ( r - 3 ) d d u d t t ( f ) x ] / [ ( x , P ) ] } =
tau pi g ( y ; hyp N , par Z ) d w d x .
Observation created a self reflection, whereby the cosmic engineers projected the video like winds from outer forests. Engines became magical reverberation arising, if a correct answer could be presented to exist, as quality persistence like pieces of candy. Glittering, colored fragments of glass were scattered along the shore, they all liked as much as they admired the inventor.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC