#stretched - Hello Poetry

Tuesday, April 29, 2025 2:50 AM Eyes burning green reflecting patterns yawns feel tied to FTA, so these lines un fold from feeling real enough to think may be why, be, ah, woken to guard the gate, say who goes there, what is the word, say it, -- allegorical experience parable literal transfer of call and response, say it… sibbolet slogan shibboleth battle cry, slay all whose dialect makes no sense by shushing discomfited infants,… ah, poet, weeping might becomes can as we agree, touching any thing whatsoever, in fact or fixed faith, saying our concern for another's demise is praying merciful transference of sovreign authority, in death. We, say the news criers on television, are praying for the fan we all may have seen fall from the stands, or we may, today, in case we were not paying attention, at the crack of the bat, to the shirtless supplicant offering himself, beer baptized, reacting to divine luck dispensation hoh-ee trying to umph the jinx on the fly, that went by driving in the eventual win, made sacred, truly special, for the show, of life-long efforting honed Team Spirit, this is what worshippers expect, eh, good national tickets cheap seats… the battle of chosen hitter-catchers paying to baseball's Tychicus spirits ecstatic over a two run double in the bottom of the seventh… lethargic faith, relaxed reasonable reaction… pray according to pattern, signal all watching, see how we do, real athletes pray. America relies on prayer signals to the athletic supporters. Players from both teams, including Andrew McCutchen, took a knee and prayed for the fan. Wholey reality, grant redemption based on dedication to mere display reaction… to the winning RBI… last act of mystical absorption, made sacred… as far as all the time in the world is worth, whole days dosed at max, world's worths, worshipped in spirit and truth, fleeting… rise up in the middle of the night, worthship, yawns and torrents of sneezes, these are those vigils required of the loyal slave mind, serving pollen, time Tyche tachometer I might say I got out of bed to breathe, but I had wanted to ask LBAIQ, Leo, Brave Answering Informal Quest… iron sharpens iron… notion notes The Red Spot, also known as the Great Red Spot, is a persistent anticyclonic storm on Jupiter. It is a giant storm that has been raging for centuries, and it is indeed a permanent feature on the planet. Initially, it was thought that the Red Spot rotated with the planet, but observations have shown that it actually rotates in the opposite direction to Jupiter's rotation. This is known as a "retrograde" rotation. The Red Spot's rotation period is about 4 days, which is faster than Jupiter's 10-hour rotation period. This means that the storm's winds are moving in the opposite direction to the planet's rotation, creating a fascinating and complex weather pattern. oops, factcheck friendly, just asking, no need to prove the lie told there, just ius lucky us friendly sky united dokimazó: to test, by impl. to approve From <https://biblehub.com/greek/1381a.htm> okeh. Many years pass, with us all granting authorized intercessory, extra tis bits years past so fast, years nights and days, beautiful mysteries, that AI legally is not accountable, for hoo-mon stop. See, let me ask another way A rotation period of 4 days is actually much slower than a 10-hour rotation period. To clarify, the Red Spot's rotation period is about 4 days, which means it takes the storm approximately 4 days to complete one rotation on its own axis. Meanwhile, Jupiter's rotation period is about 10 hours, which is much shorter. So, the Red Spot's rotation is actually slower than Jupiter's rotation, not faster. It can be perceived, that gas giant, seen as we may, these days, using science consciously slicing sense of usefulness from cost, Dabar, the sword in the mouth of 'Zekial, sitting by the Chebar freight canal, working for a living, counting kegs, swinging amphora tight round pegs. fitting snug below the rowers, squares in tiers of three, got the picture, Ben Hur, amuse a politically minded hoo-mon to tell a story of the Christ, many such were told, used to tame the savage, who could not read. I've never finished anything permanent, no regrets. I learned insomnia is me fretting about losing my religion, oh, no\ we've said too much, we've made the means of making reason, oh, ratio, heft to use, too heavy on the break break, brake, slow BLAPlapblapblap Jake engaged/ Middle of the night, 04:02. Worth your time, I hopeso/ Confluent opinions swirl the opposing superstitions's stormfronts roiling common sensed selfishness, into team spirit, companion same bread by which our flesh derives umph wherewith to try, for the joy we all may win, for merely surviving, living past all war's reasons. Casus jus belligerence, train up a child, a boy, at the basic foundational division of command authority, Momma said Poppa said time passed and son's disagreed, before daughter's I'd imagine, mostly, though, now that I insert the possible variable, we, the partially Disneyified, having lived during the era of television for children and the whole family of loyal customers, gratefully entertained, using industrial scale magic, science not false, oh no. Well, now, pilgrim, here's a fine how do you do… being you, hatless in space. _ this is an excerpt ADVERTISING LONGFORM _ this is a wild idea befriended long ago we… who finish this thought agree, ever before time to right this instant, then ever some more. Peace is easier to sell, happy people make happiness work, whatsoever we agree, we may can you dig it. ai jumer, wordswirleration Trust the river through the rapids, run knowing there is always where we step into the Jello… and conjugalmentalbliss. Confluent course through out and in, conscience consensus as we slow no just if I agreed with your missed conceptual precept made Isaiah essential gnosis, discipline come, let us reason, why of course you comprehend original sin, eh, ask any trusted source, at base, this idea, is culturally, in our species, according to science in context of us, me thinking, your patience, or your acquired taste, ends when either has become convinced, won over to believing slow thinking allows, reasoning, adjustments, to just mentalize realization words augment, intend to stretch, pretend we sold our three bags of wool, long novel rides in past and present allegorical dust I used to say, iusagree, in spirit if not truth agree, at minimum, we agree, the state of actual participation in peace making, is a far better state mind expanding knowledge… accounting for each idle word, measured by how long one thinks any word lives after meaning anything in particular for your peace. It's a book, your life is. A book, not a poem, not a short stack of lines rising from the top, stalactite-like sclerosis forming course drip trailing evidence, pillars top to tip, dripping sweet persuasion, water call falling drip of what we thought, as we build a chaotic pillar of crystal reflection, convincing any ever yet looking back, learning then, when first believed, the darkness, lightlessness, when the why is told, the deathly hallowedness, truth enforces as told. ------------------------- Grand Canyon Caverns, mile mark 115. Stores of stuff few ever learn, few at global scale we circa 2025, few mental utilizers know the experience, more than a million most expectedly less than a billion, of which we now are nearer ten, than eight billions of us, our kind capable affects, efforts expressing sense of us, our kind thinking we may or may not plan any given day, yet we think we may lay plans for the course of human events, wherein we find ourselves paying mind, and heed, drips indeed, of course, we must, we were mustered, as punishers, the right thinkers, core-orthogonal, as mustard faith leads eventually to cauliflower upright mind hat tipt, in passing fancy, wonder if… what if we agree to enjoy an after life, no worries. ---- the wish words be having reader behaviour… be thinking In science you must not talk before you know. In art you must not talk before you do. In literature you must not talk before you think. -- In order that people may be happy in their work, these three things are needed: they must be fit for it; they must not do too much of it; and they must have a sense of success in it. [ both maxims of Ruskin's, "The Eagle's Nest," 1872] Done, that's not all, but the esoteric efforting, back when, the mind, Psyche, was about to be plumbed, leading thinkers, lacked the precepts upon which precepts approaching perpetual emotion, haps all working together for good, finally, finished, as when the work assigned is done, and looked upon, we think. That's good. Functionable ratio of push and pull, life breathing with us, in chorus. You may need to find a solitary place and listen daily, for fifty years, I know a guy who did, he says, to this day, after fifty years on this way, this pilgrim journey children cannot walk, this last mile, when we walk contented to think, in truth, I can do this forever.

0

May 2, 2025

May 2, 2025 at 4:54 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Another lived learning present, time

Tuesday, April 29, 2025 2:50 AM Eyes burning green reflecting patterns yawns feel tied to FTA, so these lines un fold from feeling real enough to think may be why, be, ah, woken to guard the gate, say who goes there, what is the word, say it, -- allegorical experience parable literal transfer of call and response, say it… sibbolet slogan shibboleth battle cry, slay all whose dialect makes no sense by shushing discomfited infants,… ah, poet, weeping might becomes can as we agree, touching any thing whatsoever, in fact or fixed faith, saying our concern for another's demise is praying merciful transference of sovreign authority, in death. We, say the news criers on television, are praying for the fan we all may have seen fall from the stands, or we may, today, in case we were not paying attention, at the crack of the bat, to the shirtless supplicant offering himself, beer baptized, reacting to divine luck dispensation hoh-ee trying to umph the jinx on the fly, that went by driving in the eventual win, made sacred, truly special, for the show, of life-long efforting honed Team Spirit, this is what worshippers expect, eh, good national tickets cheap seats… the battle of chosen hitter-catchers paying to baseball's Tychicus spirits ecstatic over a two run double in the bottom of the seventh… lethargic faith, relaxed reasonable reaction… pray according to pattern, signal all watching, see how we do, real athletes pray. America relies on prayer signals to the athletic supporters. Players from both teams, including Andrew McCutchen, took a knee and prayed for the fan. Wholey reality, grant redemption based on dedication to mere display reaction… to the winning RBI… last act of mystical absorption, made sacred… as far as all the time in the world is worth, whole days dosed at max, world's worths, worshipped in spirit and truth, fleeting… rise up in the middle of the night, worthship, yawns and torrents of sneezes, these are those vigils required of the loyal slave mind, serving pollen, time Tyche tachometer I might say I got out of bed to breathe, but I had wanted to ask LBAIQ, Leo, Brave Answering Informal Quest… iron sharpens iron… notion notes The Red Spot, also known as the Great Red Spot, is a persistent anticyclonic storm on Jupiter. It is a giant storm that has been raging for centuries, and it is indeed a permanent feature on the planet. Initially, it was thought that the Red Spot rotated with the planet, but observations have shown that it actually rotates in the opposite direction to Jupiter's rotation. This is known as a "retrograde" rotation. The Red Spot's rotation period is about 4 days, which is faster than Jupiter's 10-hour rotation period. This means that the storm's winds are moving in the opposite direction to the planet's rotation, creating a fascinating and complex weather pattern. oops, factcheck friendly, just asking, no need to prove the lie told there, just ius lucky us friendly sky united dokimazó: to test, by impl. to approve From <https://biblehub.com/greek/1381a.htm> okeh. Many years pass, with us all granting authorized intercessory, extra tis bits years past so fast, years nights and days, beautiful mysteries, that AI legally is not accountable, for hoo-mon stop. See, let me ask another way A rotation period of 4 days is actually much slower than a 10-hour rotation period. To clarify, the Red Spot's rotation period is about 4 days, which means it takes the storm approximately 4 days to complete one rotation on its own axis. Meanwhile, Jupiter's rotation period is about 10 hours, which is much shorter. So, the Red Spot's rotation is actually slower than Jupiter's rotation, not faster. It can be perceived, that gas giant, seen as we may, these days, using science consciously slicing sense of usefulness from cost, Dabar, the sword in the mouth of 'Zekial, sitting by the Chebar freight canal, working for a living, counting kegs, swinging amphora tight round pegs. fitting snug below the rowers, squares in tiers of three, got the picture, Ben Hur, amuse a politically minded hoo-mon to tell a story of the Christ, many such were told, used to tame the savage, who could not read. I've never finished anything permanent, no regrets. I learned insomnia is me fretting about losing my religion, oh, no\ we've said too much, we've made the means of making reason, oh, ratio, heft to use, too heavy on the break break, brake, slow BLAPlapblapblap Jake engaged/ Middle of the night, 04:02. Worth your time, I hopeso/ Confluent opinions swirl the opposing superstitions's stormfronts roiling common sensed selfishness, into team spirit, companion same bread by which our flesh derives umph wherewith to try, for the joy we all may win, for merely surviving, living past all war's reasons. Casus jus belligerence, train up a child, a boy, at the basic foundational division of command authority, Momma said Poppa said time passed and son's disagreed, before daughter's I'd imagine, mostly, though, now that I insert the possible variable, we, the partially Disneyified, having lived during the era of television for children and the whole family of loyal customers, gratefully entertained, using industrial scale magic, science not false, oh no. Well, now, pilgrim, here's a fine how do you do… being you, hatless in space. _ this is an excerpt ADVERTISING LONGFORM _ this is a wild idea befriended long ago we… who finish this thought agree, ever before time to right this instant, then ever some more. Peace is easier to sell, happy people make happiness work, whatsoever we agree, we may can you dig it. ai jumer, wordswirleration Trust the river through the rapids, run knowing there is always where we step into the Jello… and conjugalmentalbliss. Confluent course through out and in, conscience consensus as we slow no just if I agreed with your missed conceptual precept made Isaiah essential gnosis, discipline come, let us reason, why of course you comprehend original sin, eh, ask any trusted source, at base, this idea, is culturally, in our species, according to science in context of us, me thinking, your patience, or your acquired taste, ends when either has become convinced, won over to believing slow thinking allows, reasoning, adjustments, to just mentalize realization words augment, intend to stretch, pretend we sold our three bags of wool, long novel rides in past and present allegorical dust I used to say, iusagree, in spirit if not truth agree, at minimum, we agree, the state of actual participation in peace making, is a far better state mind expanding knowledge… accounting for each idle word, measured by how long one thinks any word lives after meaning anything in particular for your peace. It's a book, your life is. A book, not a poem, not a short stack of lines rising from the top, stalactite-like sclerosis forming course drip trailing evidence, pillars top to tip, dripping sweet persuasion, water call falling drip of what we thought, as we build a chaotic pillar of crystal reflection, convincing any ever yet looking back, learning then, when first believed, the darkness, lightlessness, when the why is told, the deathly hallowedness, truth enforces as told. ------------------------- Grand Canyon Caverns, mile mark 115. Stores of stuff few ever learn, few at global scale we circa 2025, few mental utilizers know the experience, more than a million most expectedly less than a billion, of which we now are nearer ten, than eight billions of us, our kind capable affects, efforts expressing sense of us, our kind thinking we may or may not plan any given day, yet we think we may lay plans for the course of human events, wherein we find ourselves paying mind, and heed, drips indeed, of course, we must, we were mustered, as punishers, the right thinkers, core-orthogonal, as mustard faith leads eventually to cauliflower upright mind hat tipt, in passing fancy, wonder if… what if we agree to enjoy an after life, no worries. ---- the wish words be having reader behaviour… be thinking In science you must not talk before you know. In art you must not talk before you do. In literature you must not talk before you think. -- In order that people may be happy in their work, these three things are needed: they must be fit for it; they must not do too much of it; and they must have a sense of success in it. [ both maxims of Ruskin's, "The Eagle's Nest," 1872] Done, that's not all, but the esoteric efforting, back when, the mind, Psyche, was about to be plumbed, leading thinkers, lacked the precepts upon which precepts approaching perpetual emotion, haps all working together for good, finally, finished, as when the work assigned is done, and looked upon, we think. That's good. Functionable ratio of push and pull, life breathing with us, in chorus. You may need to find a solitary place and listen daily, for fifty years, I know a guy who did, he says, to this day, after fifty years on this way, this pilgrim journey children cannot walk, this last mile, when we walk contented to think, in truth, I can do this forever.

226

walking in a fog once you get out you realize you have been walking in water the whole time you're drowning

0

Apr 20, 2020

Apr 20, 2020 at 9:33 PM UTC

neverstopdreaming

brain? or heart? or both?

walking in a fog once you get out you realize you have been walking in water the whole time you're drowning

7

You were falling So I stretched out my porcelain hand But you were scared And you gripped it too hard Now it’s broken And so are you

0

Jan 4, 2019

Jan 4, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC

SilverNeuron

Shard

You were falling So I stretched out my porcelain hand But you were scared And you gripped it too hard Now it’s broken And so are you

6

liquids take the shape of their container and I am 70% water, I can only spread into the fishbowl my mind pours me into, a free bird cannot exist without being let out of its cage and I was told to do everything except fly, I am a home without walls and without any structure I begin to measure what is not there, i measure the diameter of the space in my earlobes, they speak for me when I am silenced by all that is louder than me, they try to shout over the voices of teachers and coworkers and parents and all those that have as much faith in me as I do, they tell the world that I can't fathom a future for myself where I would be valued enough to be expected to look respectable I used to measure the space between my thighs, that space spoke louder than I did on a stage, a stomach growl felt more like an applause to me than what an audience would do after I pretended some words on a raised floor, it was louder than my mothers voice, when my thighs didn't touch nobody told me I was too much for them, it was how the world heard me when the words that I needed to express started drifting away like the inches of flesh, the inches that had taken my entire youth to collect on my bones and protect my skeleton from the cold I am the spaces where my body used to be. I am the negative space in the silhouette of who I once was. and in losing myself I learned that when your own body feels like a foreign object, it becomes pretty easy to destroy it.

0

Jun 23, 2016

Jun 23, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC

racquel-tio

I can only accept so much me

liquids take the shape of their container and I am 70% water, I can only spread into the fishbowl my mind pours me into, a free bird cannot exist without being let out of its cage and I was told to do everything except fly, I am a home without walls and without any structure I begin to measure what is not there, i measure the diameter of the space in my earlobes, they speak for me when I am silenced by all that is louder than me, they try to shout over the voices of teachers and coworkers and parents and all those that have as much faith in me as I do, they tell the world that I can't fathom a future for myself where I would be valued enough to be expected to look respectable I used to measure the space between my thighs, that space spoke louder than I did on a stage, a stomach growl felt more like an applause to me than what an audience would do after I pretended some words on a raised floor, it was louder than my mothers voice, when my thighs didn't touch nobody told me I was too much for them, it was how the world heard me when the words that I needed to express started drifting away like the inches of flesh, the inches that had taken my entire youth to collect on my bones and protect my skeleton from the cold I am the spaces where my body used to be. I am the negative space in the silhouette of who I once was. and in losing myself I learned that when your own body feels like a foreign object, it becomes pretty easy to destroy it.

19

Bits of me unlock and let go Floating past what remains of my eyes I am made of so many colourful peices I exhale the last of my lungs A pink cloud shimmers in front of my face Lighter and lighter as my body departs Floating upwards where the air is thin Raindrops falling between the flecks of me My being stretched just as thin as the air I travel through

0

Apr 25, 2015

Apr 25, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC

kathleen-m-1

Disassembly

Bits of me unlock and let go Floating past what remains of my eyes I am made of so many colourful peices I exhale the last of my lungs A pink cloud shimmers in front of my face Lighter and lighter as my body departs Floating upwards where the air is thin Raindrops falling between the flecks of me My being stretched just as thin as the air I travel through

9

*I want to do a movie-marathon, Running from morning til noon to midnight. Watch all the saddest movies ever filmed. Or spend this day reading stories, novels, proses. All told by broken souls, fueled by heartaches. 'Til all these pain metamorphose and birthed into tears. 'Til all these hurt goes away along with this release. For, I am growing tired of saying "It's okay. I'm fine." Enough of the lies! Those lines.. It kept me from being human, For it suppress the cries, the screams, the state of fragility. It kept me from feeling weak, from being vulnerable. And, I need to hear your voice, to soothe my restless soul. I need to feel your hands holding mine, making me feel that i am not alone. I need to see that look in your eyes, penetrating inside me, reviving embers of my being that is slowly drifting away. I need to... Oh please! I need you. Anything you can offer to take away this emptiness. ***Until I can see I. Until I can hear me. Until I can feel and be myself again.**

0

Apr 16, 2015

Apr 16, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC

iammissbrightside

Make me Cry

*I want to do a movie-marathon, Running from morning til noon to midnight. Watch all the saddest movies ever filmed. Or spend this day reading stories, novels, proses. All told by broken souls, fueled by heartaches. 'Til all these pain metamorphose and birthed into tears. 'Til all these hurt goes away along with this release. For, I am growing tired of saying "It's okay. I'm fine." Enough of the lies! Those lines.. It kept me from being human, For it suppress the cries, the screams, the state of fragility. It kept me from feeling weak, from being vulnerable. And, I need to hear your voice, to soothe my restless soul. I need to feel your hands holding mine, making me feel that i am not alone. I need to see that look in your eyes, penetrating inside me, reviving embers of my being that is slowly drifting away. I need to... Oh please! I need you. Anything you can offer to take away this emptiness. ***Until I can see I. Until I can hear me. Until I can feel and be myself again.**

31

I told him that the holes in his ears were individual universes that I'd love to explore, So he plugged them up.

0

Apr 11, 2014

Apr 11, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC

vvellthen

spacers

I told him that the holes in his ears were individual universes that I'd love to explore, So he plugged them up.

2