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Wen Ao Long Nov 2014
Hello snorer, I hope you didn't sleep any poorer
when I stayed up all night typing this not-poem
I meant you no harm, but I had to stay up
Because I couldn't make music out of your obnoxiously loud cacophony of windpipe crap, er "music".  Time to not-pretend to absolutely hate your snoring under the guise of being perfectly okay with it for the sake of setting the tone a bit nicer to all who must hear it, so they can BEAR to, for otherwise it would be absurd.  Not as absurd as anyone hating to have aural drills applied to all their chakras all night, but still absurd enough to get a chuckle out of me (I hope it didn't wake your fine specimen here). It was never my intent, though it was always my ethical concern (if only everyone could be as reciprocal as you and I).   Oh, my not-pretend hatred is very thinly veiled.  I wasn't totally defeated by your snore-sound armies so that I couldn't type words, but I may have lost some of my desired effect due to the sometimes wincing distraction they caused to my piece of mind at this or that time when I needed it the most (even though I was awake, which is no crime if snoring at night and keeping me that way isn't).

Well, I did ask you if you'd mind if I typed,
I did tell you that you could tell me if its quiet purr of clicks would bother your precious sleep
But I never felt a need to be concerned, because whenever I
was typing, I heard you snore, and whenever I was in the heights of
some new discovery or epiphany, your sharp sudden thunderstroke of near death
corrugated metal vibrating in the torrent of some sudden gale force gust of wind.

These were signs to me of your restful sleep.  So I simply didn't worry about your sleep.  I was certain that my electronic beeps were every now and then music to your ears, just as they were to mine.  This is because in the midst of these I heard you snore, and when you snored, I took you to be asleep.

Ah but then again, then again, these are fanciful constructions which simply say that what is wonderful for me should be just fine and dandy with you, at a bare minimum, and on those grounds of very unsymmetrical attitude about right and wrong I would have to begin my music tirade of words as well.  But I don't view justice and propriety along such selfish lines as these.

What I see is that duplicity is your thesis.  I have anecdotal accounts which are marvelous to behold first hand, but the details of the absurdities cannot be done justice in the language of men, for the intensity of such insanity can only be borne lightly by the frailest frayed ends of my sanity for having lived through your acoustically maddening inanity.

You didn't ever admit to me that my noises were not music to YOUR ears.  Indeed  you claimed never to be bothered by them because you never voiced up against them.  I suppose you might as well voice up against them in the street as well if it turns out not all of you snorers-go-a-viking types like to hear my mouse clicking away like a tapping noises on a metal plate in your skull.  Sorry if it is another non-snorer-who-must-stay-up-late-and-so-be-occupied person whose nocturnal joys were misinterpreted as direct assaults on the dignity, spirit, or just basic mental viability of your wounded snoremonster troop of anti-late-stayer-uppers, because in fact, we used to be sleep-at-night-entities like you, but that was before you showed up, thoracic marching band in tow.  Marching bands are musical also, to some people.  And for some all hours of the night are perfect for a marching band.  Who am I to tell them otherwise.  

Well let me know the next time a marching band is given special permit to come through your neighborhood at night, and I'll be glad to point out to you the first Snorer'sville, because only they should be expected, in all justice to live with the macroscopic manifestation of their personal narcissistic paradises.

Let you all go to your own place and form your own nation, and see if you can consistently demand everyone else find music in your ****** and accursed racket!  But until then I expect some of you will have to take the damage returned by the growing number of people who are very much tired of living under the horrors of your infliction upon us, your demonic and evil tyranny of mind-crushing hate that is your ****** noise.  We will do yoga and breathe, and stretch, and some light calesthenics to relax and seek some focus and composure, whenever our spirits require, and this will be unchallenged by you so long as you are asleep, and it will be unchallenged by you so long as you are awake too.  For in the latter case you are already awake (and so still are we, usually) while in the former case it is far quieter than your snoring, both in its valleys and peaks.  And moreover it has not kept you up, but in fact I have noted that you wake yourself up with your own music when it reaches a certain crescendo.  

Unless you want to say that those crescendos are some sort of involuntary complaint about MY crescendos of spirit, when I start typing about 20% faster than normal, with perfect focus and accuracy while reaching an aesthetic pleasure approaching ****** as I realize that it is almost unerringly in the midst of such an experience that I hear your crescendo resound. And since it was no more intended to be a distraction for me, then surely my music must have also gone undetected by your ears, as well as your spirit. Or is it fairer to say it was the very cause of your crescendo, or at least its inspiration?

Therefore I needn't worry that it is I that is keeping you up, even if for only brief stints at a time, especially by comparison to my all-night vigils.  Not so, but it is you who are so enraptured by my occasional laughs or giggles as I edify my weary, sleep-deprived mind on some bit of morale boosting entertainment.  With headphones on of course.  It's also courteously plugged into the computer to prevent my favorite bit of Judas Priest from hurting your ear drums, or else overstimulating your music appreciation centers, which are verily attached to your ear-drums by a nerve bundle (and what nerve you all have there).  This means I've spared you too much distraction from any already-abundant music of the spheres effect you may be savoring which might have emanated from my bumbling around in the dark (to keep the lights out of course, after all people are sleeping).

Yes but that is a minority of you perhaps, who would lie about that and in fact who ought to say that our nocturnal emissions are not what you'd call restfully mind-relaxing crickets in the dead of night with an occasional hoot in the distance...  But they are a minority, the rest of you are so definitely in good faith.

But then why do I always run into those of your tribe who have strange and unethical habits, such as destroying others' lives by ruining their one perhaps most preciously personal and inalienable need second only to air and water, and that is sleep.  It is, in terms of acute necessity, in many ways more needed than food, though in the long term food catches up.  But food catches up only because not eating food is a  lot like not getting sleep, but just a lot more intense on the body when it drops to some critical point because we know from experience it is on raw nerves that we can go for a while in search of food, but if the food can't be found (perhaps because of our lack of sleep ruining our cognition in some way), then we will not eat, nor sleep, because we'll be dead.  

But either way, we'll be dead, for lack of sleep kills, both directly and indirectly, if suffered over a short time and/or in a diluted form over a long time.  That would be poetically commensurate to the sadistic similitude of the types of snoring sounds with the types of ways to die from being deprived of sleep according to two modes (acute and chronic), over many keys of incident, accident, lost opportunity and ill-stared fate, all of which can be mapped in some way back to that auditory persecution of our very souls of which your kind are in some swelling numbers quite proud.  Just think of all the car accidents, work accidents, altercations, fits of rage, inability to concentrate well or sometimes at all, and other life-damaging conditions of the mind, and also of the body, which accrue from lack of proper and healthy sleep at night!

Good thing for most of you though, right?  Because surely our music is also sweet, and I really hope I've inspired many to face this need for equality, and be on their guard against any unjust whining or groaning from those who seem in point of fact to value their sleep just a good deal more than they value anyone else's.  Not only because they really really love to get those zzz's but because they think that in the natural order of things, before people suddenly went mad and evil, people went to bed and slept well even partly BECAUSE of this brachio-esophageal orchestral lullaby.

But we'll be on our guard against those complaints, because we know you have plotted to take to the streets against us to defend your noisiness-all-night-every-night rights.  So we'll be on guard to defend ours, TO THE LAST FIBER OF OUR BEING.

Because you insufferable ******* are cruel, and cruelty no one should abide.  No one in my world, in my society of people, will be allowed to inflict cruelty on another person, nor be callously prejudicial in their own favor when injuries do occur because of their actions merely on the grounds that the damage it causes coincides with the fulfillment of a need on their own part, even while that fulfillment is of a need which is obstructed from satisfaction in the other part, and by THAT VERY SAME REASON, so that your sleep depends on keeping others awake.  UNLESS you can somehow con or coerce them into developing some form of Stockholm Syndrome and confuse the torment you inflict upon them with a sign of your love and wonderfulness to be around.

Yes, I know you hear me typing now, through your well-behaved proxy.  I feel it. If not he per se, then in a parallel universe not too far off, there's a version of him who does.  Perhaps not the one I know now, on day one of having moved into this room, but perhaps one represented in this universe by someone who has found himself in some sort of circumstances found later on during his stay, this mixed with the fact that familiarity breeds contempt... He'll start making some righteous demands of some kind, and I might not be in a such a good mood about that due to lack of proper sleep, and this will coincide with said contumacy against my own rights (such as to breathe, type, surf the net, or do other nocturnal things other than snoring which might keep others up).

As to that last point in parentheses, snoring is an activity which you perform in conjunction with your getting sleep, and it therefore means not well for your notion of fairness to say things as they are, and simply say the truth, which is that your getting sleep deprives others of theirs, but it can be logically deduced.

It can also be logically deduced that the don't give flying **** if you don't like the fact that we don't like your ear-**** night after night, which is a good name as any, but should perhaps at times be amended to body-demolishing soul-****** of a mortally sinful nature, and with an ethical incongruity to good character of a person to maintain it, all the more to sings its praises to us and call it "good poetry".
My tirade is intended to be expressive of a sincerely felt Truth, manifested in this which is only one of many forms, where things are never neutral, but divided neatly and perfectly into either Good or evil, so that no thought, word, or deed can be trivialized as mundane, neither in its innate import nor in its exported impact for others.  This is of the essence of ethics and has many metaphysical groundings which can be rationally demonstrated, but only to rational people.
Janette Nov 2012
Night,
and there is nothing more fragile
than this fever, an opus
of guitars swelling with song
and water, fluent
as the nocturnes are tuned
to the lower scale and strings vibrate deep within
the marrow as they ascend,
the soul blowing glass,
and filling the lungs
with a long slow taper of light, streaming
as fingers are brought to bear on frets
covered in hoarfrost,
and stray hair is pushed back from countenance,
to reveal the fractions of fire caught upon iris

there come slow indulgences,
and forgotten things,
to twine the body
in banners of winter silk,
scarves about the wrists, roped
in tethers and these feathers
of night-blooming jasmine
hang in long strands of pearl,
from my temple, teal threads of opal
and heather braids twine
the tone, the time
is not all poems
upon a blank page or songs
to coo the concert of souls
muted in chambers acoustically
formed of minutes, stolen in a glance,
at glimpse of skin or the tender touch
of cheek as eyes brim
soul-filled to overflow,

nocturnal blends the silent pause
between movements upon a page
where there is room for words,
though never found ,but in gesture
and margin's note that lays soft upon the tongue,
behind lips suited for sighs
these lost manuscripts begin
a long hand of notes held whole

Let the music play again,
its plea, eternal,

my love, please
do not forget how to preserve me,

for this is night,
and it is fragile....
Marcus Lane Mar 2011
Beech trees like cathedral pillars soar
To vaulted ceilings oozing dapple-green,
Where twinkling sunlight, filtering to the floor
Dilutes the dusky darkness in between.

A concert hall, acoustically tuned
To amplify each tremorous touch of stick
On wood, where silent magic is cocooned,
Responding to the scuffled tap and tick

From scrunching undergrowth, where dusty death
And dried decay seep back to nature’s store,
To resuscitate with pungent earthy breath
The spirit of the leafy forest floor.
© Marcus Lane 2008
Shyanne Galvan Dec 2015
Every girl needs that one special someone in her life.
She needs someone to tell her she is not only ****, but beautiful.
Tell her she is even beautiful in her own way too.
Tell her the positive advice she needs to hear for her to be led on the right road.
Be her shoulder to cry on as you wipe her tears away... even if you made her beautiful eyes cry waterfalls.
Not only compliment her in person, but also through the phone.
Call her randomly throughout the day even if it is just for a minute... to remind her how much you love her.
You do not have to buy her bouquets of flowers to surprise her, just simply go for romantic walks and pick a pretty flower for her and put it in her hair.
Doing that one little thing will certainly brighten up her day.
All every girl wants is to be loved and to smile, not a fake smile for show and tell, but a real genuine smile.
It is the simplest little things that matter the most.
Write her love letters so she can re-read them when your are unavailable.
Surprise her by putting little gifts or poetry in her locker, or in her books, or even sneak it into her bag.
She wants the romantic walks on the beach, a candle lit dinner, picnics, stargazing, him playing a song for her acoustically, holding her hand in public, kissing in public, going to an arcade, wearing matching clothes and much more.
Every girl wants a ring on her finger.
But if you can not afford a fancy ring, then buy her a promise ring, get down on one knee, and purpose to her and have that promise ring be a promise that she will get the ring of her dreams eventually.
Every girl not only wants love, but to be loved.
Its the little simplest things that can matter the whole world to her.
                                     -s.g
Copyright Shyanne Galvan
yokomolotov Sep 2013
just a nervous swimmer
making threats to capsize
cross legged eaten alive
praying acoustically so you could hear
a ship that plunges
through disaster’s eye
the harrowing digestive pit of the sea
willingly swallowed
lying under the collapsed ceiling
of
the one that crashed all around us

snow heavy on headlights
blanketing windshields with sloppy mounds
the bitter Christmas
and a night ride, cold headlights
a spelunker’s lantern
watching the masturbator on stage
his back facing the crowd
black curls like a blindfold
he smiles like someone in church
but behind his teeth something
seethes

red lipped rosy aloof
(the beautiful drunk who
I’ll write many lines)
I called you the Ouija way
but it was disconnected
Athena poured the milk you made
down your slopes and poisoned the valleys
looking back and tracing photos
wondering if you really existed at
all

walked in the humidity and
only wished I had said
nothing
realized all the time
there was no one I wanted but you,
curious feeling of being
startled awake
boots making me heavy
spent the next few weeks
swimming tirelessly upstream
proud salmon ***** that I am
How cold and dark the chapel looked that day
from the narrow dirt track.
The overgrown graves adding to the gloom
no longer did anyone pray.
In this neglected forgotton medieval place
here a friend disappeared without trace.

This brought me to view this strange dwelling
a despair came over me that second.
That gut wrenching feeling consumed my being
standing afraid I started to yelling.
A spontaneous reaction that I could not stop
around were fields filled with natures crop.

Always the sceptic yet I felt I was not alone
a light breeze began to blow.
Why had I ventured to this solitary spot
had I seen from inside a glow?
Compulsion made me open the rusty gate
what had happened to my mate

A heavy atmosphere it was hard to breath
was that footsteps I heard?
Stopping to glance around nobody was there
two horse riders came passed waving.
Turning back I was at the solid wooden door
on it marks as if made by a claw!

Foreboding  I wanted to get myself away
something stopped my urge for flight.
The answers I seeked must be inside I prayed
the summer light turned into night.
Dread within my soul was rising to it's height
and the outcome of my plight.

Pushing with hidden strength on the oak door
it swung open in the blackness I stared.
As my vision became more use to the dark
two red eyes looked back and glared.
A growling rasp echoed acoustically clear
something was gnawing far too near.

In my jacket pocket I had put a small torch
taking it out I turned on the beam.
There before me a wolf like creature stood
neither moved then it shot by.
Knowing this was the friend I'd been seeking
running out I saw the full moon peaking.

What I had seen was beyond my lifes beliefs
distant howls filled me with terror.
All I could do was just sit in the chapel
until the new dawn once more arose.
Never again did I see my life long friend
as now my life has drawn to an end.
    The Foureyed Poet.
What exists in this world is beyond our comprehension
and still remains a human contention. The foureyed Poet.
I like the way she holds my arm when walking…

up high, under the shoulder,
firm grasp on muscle, feeling
the blood beat acoustically, in joy,
sensually sensing a thrumming
thrombosis messaging, this is a
full bodied animation, liquid life,
“strong to drink”
“strength to break
off pieces and keep,”
a supporting mutuel
pillar column post,
given, taken, entrapped,
enwrapped, ensnared,
and
enshrined, mighty fine
feeling
“indeed”
pieces to mine,
pieces of mine

her taking is acceptable
my taking reciprocal
for her needs fulfill,
I,
walk taller, straighter,
in fuller strides, and when
she stumbles in the obstacle
course of nyc crack-ed sidewalkslop,
her whoosh of breath expelled
when saved by the arm firmament,
goes unremarked, for this is my
purposed occupation and the
occlusion of our skin cells
in tight bandwidth is certification
that our love is so much more than
mere skin deep,
or as she so oft summarizes, life is,
“indeed,” or in deed.

olp
Fri Mar 22-2024
Ezra Dec 2014
When you force me to bow down,
When you force me to bite my tongue,
When blood spurts out my mouth,
When tears squeeze out their ducts,

I like to pretend I'm standing on a stage.

Some people say it makes it worse;
Some people prefer picturing a small empty white room,
But I like to think I'm in a theater of sorts
Acoustically engineered; soundly designed

Whatever I say ricochets off its concave domes
And comes back, piercing me de part en part,
Yeah, it hurts.
Pain echoes from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, dimension to dimension,

But at least there I can sing,
I can scream and shout,
And the world will know,
The globe will spin and reel and raise its arms.

Then, the orchestra falls, the walls crumble, the illusion shatters
And I am back in the world of the unheard.
Star Gazer Jul 2016
I caressed your back with my fingers
As the warm sensation lingers,
I whisper sibilantly into your ear
As you did the same for me to hear.
The shadow touched your shoulders;
And so did I, as I held you closer.
Our heartbeats were like pre-2002 Timberlake;
Rhythmically NSYNC without a mistake,
And skin to skin, I felt your touch searing me;
Though you left your marks, it felt heavenly.
Mesmerised by the sight of you, vulnerable,
I heave in air but yet neither of us culpable.
I whisper once again, 'You are so beautiful'
Everything, became acoustically musical.
We held each other, warmed by linen,
The present was a gift with a rainbow ribbon,
And each moment, closer to passing out;
I learnt of what true beauty is really about.
I stared deep into your soul, through your eyes,
And it felt as though I've come to a euphoric high,
As I found myself lost in complete ecstasy.
I found love within you, the way it was meant to be.

Though the moon met its demise
It was an endless night.
Zachary Jun 2014
e
B  2
G  2  4  2
D  0  5  4
A      5  4
E      3  2


Let it be wake me up hey **
we've got them pumped up kicks give me love acoustically fixed
skinny love
nothing else matters
arms of mary

stolen dance
two more drinks
and were at the happy hour
id rather **** then romance

the a team
from hotel Califorication dream
let it go cuz the ring you dont know
like someone like you
radioactive and rude
say things and try to undo

riptide im yours
and happy as a demon
wonder wall

say something
hallelujah
stay with me
counting stars
i see the fire
of all of me
******* if you still this
karleigh Sep 2016
Outside she began to think...
Slowly consumed with a vivid wonder illuminating the depths within the soul
So came to be the external world-
The multitude of notions
And so it was unique in such a sense as to fear from the very reality of imagination.
Thinking to turn back to the place of where had figured she belonged. So came the path-
Present there before her.
So came the way of the less traveled. So came the road taken by the music maker .
And there she walked,
Acoustically chanted by beauty's own
Mystery.
Enigmatic.
And there she went
Feeling everything but lost.
She wandered.
Knowing nothing but knowing
It all.
For the mind leads her on a journey.
Where will it take her?
Outside we begin to think...
Big Virge Jun 2021
Now When It Comes To Keeping...
My Brain Waves MOVING...

I Choose To DO IT...
Rather Than Refuse It... !!!

Because I’m NOT STUPID...
Or One Who Is Foolish... !!!

Now I DO Make Mistakes...
And Have Made Some BAD Choices...

But When It Comes To My Brain...
And... How I EMPLOY It...

It’s Used EVERY DAY...
In... Pro-Active Ways... !!!

From When I Was Young...
My Father Was One...
Who Demanded That I...
Applied Use of My Mind...
To Read And To Write...
As Well As... Vocalise...

My Thoughts Once Considered...
Through Usage of Thinking...

So My Brain Was Engaged...
From A Very Young Age... !!!!!

My Father Would Make...
Me Read Stories Relayed...
From A Sunday News Page...
When I Was Merely Teenaged...

And Write My OWN Version...
of What They Were Serving... !!!

And I Mean The BROAD Sheets...
Whose Writers Critiqued...
Government Policies...
And Real Life Stories...

And This He Would Do...
So That He Could Then View...
How I Used My Brain Tool...

So I Had... SUNDAY School...
When My Peers Played The Fool... !!!

Now Back Then I Was FORCED... !!!
Due To Falling Well Short...
of What Most People Thought...
Would of Been A Cake Walk...
For Me To FLY Through...
In Exams That I Took... !!!

But Still I Read Books...
And Broadened My View...
Whilst I Let My Brain Stew...

And That’s Why I Choose...
To STILL Put It To Use...
Like My Dad Made Me Do... !!!

By... Writing Reviews...
That Now Rhyme And Flow Too... !!!

Cos’ My Brain Tool Stays Cool...
And Is Smooth When It Grooves...
To... Speak On Issues...

Because I Keep It SHARP...
And SOUND Like A HARP...
Playing In A Courtyard... !!!

... Acoustically PERFECT...
To Feed Those Observing...
With High Forms of Learning... !!!

BYPASSING Internships...
Professors Named Sherman...
And Buddies Who Trump...
My Brains Wish To Love... !!!

Through Rhymes I Now Drop...
That Show That My Brain’s HOT...
With Thinking That Rocks...

Just Like CLASSIC Hip Hop... !!!

My Father’s The One...
Who Forced Me To Choose It...

ELEVATED Brain Usage...
Instead of Refuse It...
And Think Like I’m Dumb...

Because....

Look What THAT’s Done...
To How This World Now Runs... !?!

It’s Causing PROBLEMS...
That Means Vaccinations...
Are Now What Is Needed...
To PROTECT... Humans... ?!?

PROTECT Us From WHAT... ?

Mutated Diseases...
Bred By This Virus... !?!

Well Folks I Don’t Know...
If Brain Usage Has Flowed...
To Put Humans In Holes...
As Well As Body Bags... !?!

And Inside of Our Homes...
So That Testing Can Grow...
And They Can... Trace And Track... !!!

Are You Folks Now At Home...
NOT At Least Thinking WHOA...
Things Are OUT of CONTROL... ?!?

And That You’ve WASTED Votes...
On Leaders... Who Are JOKES... !!!!!!!

Who Campaign And CAMPAIGN...

In Ways Built To Make...
People Now Use Their Brains...
In... RIDICULOUS Ways... !?!

WHY Believe What THEY Say... ?!?

When They Just Make False Claims...
That Create Stress And Pain... ?!?

Isn’t That How They Sway...
And Treat People Today... ?!?

From Subjects of Race...
To Rapes And Displays...
of... Violence Today... !!!!!

To... Election Campaigns...
And Conspiracy Claims...
Linked To This Viral Strain...

To Bending What’s Straight...
To Make People Act STRANGE... !?!

These Are The Functions...
of Those Who TWIST Brains...
For Them To Make Gains...
That Make Millions Suffer... !!!

THEY Keep Making BLUNDERS... !!!
While Folks Make Me Wonder...

Due To How They Behave...
If... INSANITY Reigns...
Inside of Their Brains...
In Ways That Are Lame... ?!?

Due To Things That They Say...
About Problems We Face...

That They Seem To Think... ?!?

Will Simply... GO AWAY............

So Things Will Be Okay... !?!
And We'll Be Back To Drinks...
... Uniting And Smiling... !?!

Now Optimism Is Great... !!!

But I Have To Relate...
That Turning Blind Eyes...
In These Times ISN’T WISE... !!!  

Lives Are Being Downsized...
Due To Tech And Health Vibes...
That Are Causing Down Sides...
As Well As... SUICIDES... !!!

Due To People RESIGNED...
To Now LOSING Their Minds...

Which Is Why I Now Write...
My Views In These Rhymes...

We WON'T See Things The SAME...
But These Words I WILL Say... !!!

When It Comes To The Way...
That We Engage Our Brains...
To Deal With Viral Strains...
And Conspiracy Claims...

We Should NOT Refrain...
From Letting Brain Juices...
Run Smoothly And Fluid...

Because It’s... UNWISE...
When It Comes To Brain Usage...

To NOT......

... “ Choose To Use It “...
When it comes to using our brains, it really isn't a wise thing to neglect, or to refuse to do.

— The End —