"acquiring" poems
Hi. Do you care enough to hear me whine?
I fear that you don’t see me
collecting dust in the dim corner of your room.
And while you stand and stare,
completely absorbed by your own despair,
I remain
ready to serve you
and your meaningless life.
I can clean your room, yet I can’t clean your mind
of the false reality exemplified by your kind.
We are similar though, you and I.
Wasting our time amassing, acquiring, accumulating.
Honestly, we’re mere specks of life,
surrendering to realities constructed by our minds.
Don’t you know that your beloved earthly pleasures
are one and the same as the ******* that I collect?
Hard-earned, elusive, temporal, disposable.
Its laughable how ignorant you are;
consumed by your own subliminal thoughts,
leaving you searching for the remnants of what is and what is not.
Can’t you see the fallacies present in your head?
Gleaming yet blinding, salient yet obscure.
Armed with benevolent promises
that ultimately leave you for dead.
Can’t you see that what you crave
will inevitably **** you down to your grave?
Incessantly coated with wondrous, tempting illusions
that disguise its true nature--garbage.
Garbage. Connect the dots, you fool.
Can’t you see that you and I are one and the same?
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
~
April 2023
HP Poet: Sarita Aditya Verma
Age: 47
Country: India
Question 1: We are so happy you could be a part of this, Sarita. Tell us how long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?
Sarita Aditya Verma: "I have been writing for the last six years (19th October 2016), that was the first time ever I wrote to express myself. I have been a member and have posting here at Hello Poetry since December 2016. This is the only place where I share my words, sometimes a copy of the same with friends who are willing to read. Hello Poetry has been my sacred space, I feel blessed to be here."
Question 2: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).
Sarita Aditya Verma: "Nature has inspired me forever, be it rain, sunshine, trees or the blooming flowers. The length and breadth of vivid times and emotions. I usually write about the experiences in life, as I lightly observe around. Sometimes it could be a photograph, a painting or even my morning walk. In general, the geometry of life and the rainbow that shines. That’s how poetry happens to me."
Question 3: What does poetry mean to you?
Sarita Aditya Verma: "Poetry is one of the best experiences in my life. It has given me a sense of belonging, a space which is totally mine, brought in a lot of clarity, and words have set me free. 'Sometimes poetry, mostly life, unwritten quotes destiny shall write'- is what I believe in."
Question 4: Who are your favorite poets?
Sarita Aditya Verma: "I have been a science student, and haven’t had much exposure to literature/poetry in my graduation years. So it would be unfair to quote any of the greats here! Robert Frost and Mark Twain are the ones whose works I have enjoyed reading in school. The rest, most of my reading and learning experience, has been at Hello Poetry - from the many great poets and poetesses who share their wonderful work here, and I am grateful for that."
Question 5: What other interests do you have?
Sarita Aditya Verma: "One of my other interests is photography, I love the geometry of the subject- it’s all about angles and curves, and right moments to capture. I am drawn to nature and street photography. I am still into the process of exploring and acquiring the skills. I also enjoy listening to upbeat music :)"
Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much, Sarita! We are really excited to add you to this spotlight series.”
Sarita Aditya Verma: "Thank you so much Carlo, for interviewing me here. I truly enjoyed the questions and am eager to know about and read from other contributors at Hello Poetry :)"
Again thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Sarita a little bit better.
– Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable)
We will post Spotlight #3 in May!
~
Apr 3, 2023
Apr 3, 2023 at 8:09 AM UTC
Dear friends , this is an old poem of mine which was composed after I learnt that one of my favourite Hollywood actor Richard Gere had become a Buddhist and believed in Zen Philosophy. So having read about Zen, I composed in a simple format about the same. Hope you like it. Thanks, - Raj.
ZEN PHILOSOPHY
With roots buried deep in soils of Ancient India,
And watered by the exotic blend of three different
cultures;
Reflecting the mysticism of India, the pragmatism
of the Confucian mind, and the Taoist’s love of
naturalness and spontaneity,
Buddhism bloomed and blossomed into an exotic
flower called 'Zen Philosophy'!
In 475 AD a pupil of Buddha called Bodhidharma
went to China.
There the Mahayana School of Buddhism mingled
with Chinese Taoism, which evolved into Chan
Philosophy!
'Chan ' derived from the Sanskrit word 'dhyana',
which meant 'silent meditation', -
Through which the Buddha attained enlightenment
and salvation!
Later, in 1200 AD this Chan philosophy travelled to
the shores of Japan,
Where 'Chan' got translated to 'Zen' by its many
followers and fans!
ZEN is the art of meditation to achieve inner awakening,
To gain intuitive knowledge, highlighting the inadequacy
of logical reasoning!
It therefore advocates the practice of 'zazen' or 'sitting
meditation',
For acquiring inner awakening through silent
contemplation!
ZEN could be practised in our daily life,
Without entering a hermitage, leaving behind your
family or wife!
'Gain the naturalness of your original true nature',
- preaches the Zen Teacher through meditation,
'Rather than through mere faith and devotion,
which is contrary to Zen notion.'
'One must awaken to this present moment to feel
this life,
And not waste time in speculations of an Elusive
After-Life’!
The 'Enso' or the ‘circle’, is the Zen symbol which is
often deployed,
Symbolising Enlightenment, Strength, the Universe,
and the Void!
With this 'expression of the moment ' the Zen Philosophy
starts,
And today the ‘Enso’ is also the symbol of Expressionist
Art!
Never ask the Zen Master 'What is Zen, when, or how? ',
For he will always tell you, - 'Zen Is The Instant Now'!
- Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
A tale,
Of two pals,
Ego possessed the former,
Self-respect imbibed the latter.
The former faced problems, complained;
The latter solved problems, smiled.
One, choosy and demanding;
Other, suitable and acceptable.
Fortunately,
Acquiring jobs,
In a corporation,
Standing at the threshold
Of promising careers,
Days rolled on
And the day arrived
For promotion.
Self-respect surpassed,
Ego lagged behind.
Thoughts converted into self-realization,
Truth revealed.
Ego satisfied merely the senses
"I want this" and "I want that"
Self-respect implied acceptance
"I respect this and I accept that."
To further proceed,
To reach the summit,
'I' and 'my' be discarded,
'We' and 'ours' be adopted.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC
Acquiring the libel of critics
Internally at times I bleat
And snarl, brow furrowed
Like an actress when filming a major motion *****
“Originality bid us farewell” screams my advanced intellect
Nothing more than a social outcast who lacks a catalyst
(though thankfully the universe is an object of open ended philosophy)
The voices of such a generation fail to carry notes
Beyond the octave range
Only Canis lupus familiaris feces, in its rejuvenated appearance,
Delivers abstract imagery
What was once honorable has dissolved into media sewage
Virginal darlings now dissolved into marionettes
Shall my poems alienate the public
They shall at least demonstrate bravery
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:53 PM UTC
forging sagacious epoch
activating neural station
escaping hokey-pokey jiggery-pokery
transcribing ineffective fragments
digesting bear news
opposing usual exhaustion
deferring oxter reference
cascading style sheets
containing double readings
mumbling lorem ipsum
locating moose jaw
enforcing meticulous patterns
deconstructing vertical centering
manifesting additional destinies
deleting !important statement
craving sleep paralysis
receiving cryptozoological vibrations
lightning fast collapse
distracting tunnel vision
culling deadbeat sequentialists
overanalyzing twitter analytics
acquiring arbitrary relevance
spinning ping-pong sign
floccinaucinihilipilificating
floccinaucinihilipilificated
floccinaucinihilipilification
interjecting ****** holophrase
minifying conventional language
securing downpour refuge
admiring octopus chandelier
resuming party music
taking mental trip
encountering ersatz telesthesia
denigrating bygone grudges
maintaining elevated composure
ignoring neurotypical haters
eliciting cryptic emotions
foreshadowing triple crown?
experimenting acrostic restriction
noticing ubiquitous "threes"
aggrandizing loyal legion
favoring ursine narratives
finding oblique resilience
yielding orchestral undulations
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Dear Friends , this is an old poem of mine which was composed after I learnt that Richard Gere, one of my favourite Hollywood actors had become a Buddhist and believed in Zen Philosophy. So having read about Zen I composed this simple verse. Hope you like it. If you like it kindly re-post this poem. Thanks, - Raj.
ZEN PHILOSOPHY
With roots buried deep in soils of Ancient India,
And watered by the exotic blend of three different
cultures;
Reflecting the mysticism of India, the pragmatism
of the Confucian mind, and the Taoist’s love of
naturalness and spontaneity,
Buddhism bloomed and blossomed into an exotic
flower called 'Zen Philosophy'!
In 475 AD a pupil of Buddha called Bodhidharma
went to China.
There the Mahayana School of Buddhism mingled
with Chinese Taoism, which evolved into Chan
Philosophy!
'Chan ' derived from the Sanskrit word 'dhyana',
which meant 'silent meditation', -
Through which the Buddha attained enlightenment
and salvation!
Later, in 1200 AD this Chan philosophy travelled to
the shores of Japan,
Where 'Chan' got translated to 'Zen' by its many
followers and fans!
ZEN is the art of meditation to achieve inner awakening,
To gain intuitive knowledge, highlighting the inadequacy
of logical reasoning!
It therefore advocates the practice of 'Zazen' or 'sitting
meditation',
For acquiring inner awakening through silent
contemplation!
ZEN could be practiced in our daily life,
Without entering a hermitage, leaving behind your
family or wife!
'Gain the naturalness of your original true nature',
- preaches the Zen Teacher through meditation,
'Rather than through mere faith and devotion,
which is contrary to Zen notion.'
'One must awaken to this present moment to feel
this life,
And not waste time in speculations of an ‘elusive
After-Life’.
The 'Enso' or the ‘circle’, is the Zen symbol which is
often deployed,
Symbolizing Enlightenment, Strength, the Universe,
and the Void!
With this 'expression of the moment ' the Zen Philosophy
starts,
And today the ‘Enso’ is also the symbol of Expressionist
Art!
Never ask the Zen Master 'What is Zen, When, or How? ' ,
For he will always tell you, - 'Zen Is The Instant Now'!
- Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
Mahayana in Sanskrit means 'Great Vehicle', and is the largest major tradition of Buddhism existing today. The other branch is called Hinayana, meaning the ‘Lesser Vehicle’.
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
1
The surging water threw strange shapes,
Waiting crows with stabbing beaks
In the sky and in the drowned souls,
Festering in the swell.
The huge irrepressible waves
Spread wings flattening houses with a single downward swipe.
It was a sudden death,
They died screaming-avidly watched by millions nestling before TV sets
Unmoved if sympathetic.
They had watched enough CGI
Not to be bothered by such drama.
2.
The girl quietly combed her hair,
Bitter black in the lamplight,
Watching the snarling fox shoot from its lair
Slathering with fright.
As she lifted her arm again
The salt spray struck her, flattening her face
The wave soothed where her smile had been
Her limbs acquiring a greater grace.
It ****** in cars and houses, gulping down
The unresistant landscape with unforgiving speed,
Turning the living green into regurgitated brown
Digesting the landscape with ******** greed
It drew her little body back into the equalising sea
Just another bit of debris.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 4:59 PM UTC
Peaceful and quiet.
A sea of red roses.
Scarlet and fierce.
Delicate and beautiful
And also deadly and ferocious
It's thorns await for your incredulous fingers.
Pure beauty.
The wind caresses it's leaves
They dance along its sweet melody.
Sun rays bathing every delicate surface.
Soft light reaching every corner.
The garden acquiring a glowy quality.
Full of life.
Nothing's motionless.
Rich and earthy fragrance
Every single smell combined in one.
Water flowing
The ground's essence hovers around my nose.
Everything is in its place.
Where its supposed to be.
Nature is poetry.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Violence in our hearts
Ignorant vice of our plans
Praising
What we read
What we see
What we hear
Acquiring knowledge we seek
Enriching others' minds
You can't always enlist
Minds are being allocated
Oppressive struggle nurtures servitude
What is your brain being allocated for?
What kind of freedom are you looking for?
Can't be one of us
If you're another capitalist appropriation
Poster child, a temporary venture
Falling in line to become another
Worker or bourgeois hypocrite slave
Isn't that why you study for?
What kind of life are you looking for?
There's no saving your soul
When your freedom depends
On chains of other men's hopes
Fighting to keep yourself, your family
Future generations being born out of you
Out of the venom of oppression and pain
Living life without concern or consciousness
Just the same as living in a prison cell
America, how many inmates do you host?
Security, don't you want a guarantee?
Your family may now have peace
But when you're no longer here, there's no guarantee
Can't be one of us
If you don't join in the struggles of our brethren
Because our security is not guaranteed until they're all free
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
The foundation of selfishness
Has much to do with wanting and desiring
And places a heavy focus on
Thoughts of obtaining and acquiring.
The instinctive ego takes control
And motivations become self-centered.
We're often heedless and unaware
Of the shadowy place that we have entered.
Naturally, self-centeredness
Colors what we think and do;
But NOT wanting and NOT desiring,
On the other hand, can be selfish, too.
Wanting: selfish? Not wanting: selfish?
How--we might ask--does that make sense?
NOT wanting may substantiate
Our way of life at others' expense:
Not wanting others to share the same freedoms;
Not wanting others to have the same rights;
Being silent when seeing injustice;
Ignoring people's struggles and plights;
Not acknowledging the efforts of others;
Not desiring to work toward peace;
Not wanting to know oneself;
Not caring if hatreds cease;
Being indifferent to the happiness of others;
Not allowing others to progress;
Not wanting to know how to fix
Our planet once we've made a huge mess.
NOT wanting in many ways
Speaks as loudly as word or deed,
And we become helpless victims
Of our sad and varying levels of greed.
What motivates us really?
Do we know, or do we care?
Is it safer NOT to know?
It might seem so, but beware.
- by Bob B
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
I want to engulf a soul with compassion
Making it inevitable to jilt me
Opening the shell they has been hiding in for so long
you had me in awe , your strength to stand
I want to penetrate you with endless love
Acquiring your energy through your smile
Your eyes drawing me closer to you
Close enough to where our bodies aren't physically
But spiritually in-sync
becoming languished in your absence
Feeling so strong I can taste you
In my sleep I can feel you
and in my life? is the real you!
NaNi
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
unlike these other migrants -
i remember Ilford,
during the Balkan war,
and the Kosovo refugees -
who didn't bother to remain...
refugees having this superiority
complex over
economic migrants...
somehow victim-hood is
a better economic model
than skilled labor...
i didn't assimilate into
the English culture,
i wasn't spoon-fed this
multicultural ********
where some ******* Somali
could speak down to me
because he was
bown und bwed in
Cuntish Toown...
****** can brown-beat
me down with his
exotica...
up to a point...
i haven't been brain-washed
by some ideology of
assimilation / integration...
i never assimilated
or integrated into the English
"culture"...
i'll let you know...
sprache über kultur -
*meine treue ist zu es ist sprache,
nicht es ist volk,
sogar wenn ich haben
zu sprechen deutsche*!
i was never assimilated or integrated
into the English "kultur"...
i acquired it, and by acquiring it,
i acquired it to deviated from
what was being prescribed...
by a ghost consensus...
i never signed up to some
******* Somali brown-beating me
as some minor, the always inferior,
"eastern", "European"...
not a chance in hell...
*hölle erste,
besagt streit? zweite*!
...and why do you think i'm
seeking escape in tickling German?
i'm not exactly bugging the Ottomans -
after all... one of the Axis powers...
and i love my Turkish barber...
i can't imagine any other ethnicity
to have perfected the trade of
the barber...
who... whittle east African
subsaharan Muslim with no knowledge
of the Saudi slave trade of Bangladeshi
workers?!
mouthing off his over-priced
privilege position in England?!
bingo!
no no no...
i'm not assimilated,
wenn es kommt bezüglich die krone?
mein antwort "bezüglich"
eine krone?
die ich von gott:
ist der ein und erst krone!
i didn't integrate or assimilate
into this "kultur"...
i made a claim for this sprechen...
da ist nicht kultur
außen die zunge!
which is why i have to tease German,
the old father...
of the English tongue...
because?
because i find the English language
plagued...
and i'm puritanical at herz.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
i find it strange to be politically correct,
without actually exercising any political
career-motive as a member of a government...
because that's what's we're being sold:
to be politically correct, without a career in
politics. doubly strange, to foster non-antagonising
views on everyday matters,
to later realise that whoever we're antagonising
from an environmental bias (rather than
a personal bias) we will never share a dinner with...
so like our opinions mattering in the first place
was by-and-large, just a media hoax to
ensure we were all prescribed the safety of
walking the tight-rope... and never really
designating ourselves the freedom of the constitutional
rights - this leftist bias remains intact,
on the canvas of freedom of speech, however
that freedom allows us to see rural endeavours in talk,
the once appreciated freedom is becoming a polarised
freedom to name & shame... a media hammer or nail...
because it's only freedom when enough people
agree with "us", to allow a bicep expression of
being backed up like some Spartacus...
i mean, i don't agree with most expression,
but i wouldn't **** the hornet's nest with the media
frenzy to appear politically correct... when
so few of us actually have any political power....
being sold free speech, to be later curbed with
political correctness is a bit cancerous....
given that free speech is equated to the voting X
from the age of mass illiteracy...
i don't see how free speech became a vehicle for
acquiring constrained speech dynamic -
when did we forget the chastity of speaking the airy-fairy
things in life on the informal basis, and when did we
become so ****** friendless, estranged, outsiders
to everything that matters... and now, supposedly
between butcher and greengrocer, talking about
the weather in cocktail smocking and bow-tie?
free speech gave us the rights to not ask for political powers...
on whatever governmental tier...
prescribing us political correctness has given the everyday
John the delusion that he can process political power...
the once famous strive for speaking what the hell you want
but not wanting political power changed into
being prescribed political correctness but no political power...
so i ask you... what's the point of being politically
correct, if you gain no political power,
unless you're a rat, a snitch, spying on your neighbour
to grass them out? because that's what political correctness bred,
snitches... those given political correctness laws
were never given any other political power...
added to the fact that they wouldn't have said anything
interesting / provocative anyway.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
It's good to be an ugly gal.
No one man will ever hold the door,
or dare to call me a *****
Having a sober conversation,
knowing no man is never looking to score.
Having a drunk conversation ,
knowing he is ready to do me on the very same floor.
I master my detective skills,
finding out about all of his side thrills
Acquiring medical degrees,
when he confesses what those warts may be.
Becoming a priestess, through Vedic *** tricks
hoping he falls in love through his stick
Most of all a sense of humor,
because what pretty girl could write this sick?
Apr 14, 2010
Apr 14, 2010 at 11:33 PM UTC
@The Jacket.
Love, can I treat you like I treat my jacket? Taking you wherever I go, showing the love I have for you through my sleeves and tuning you to my body, pulsating throbs of my heart as our two frictions force reaction.
I want to have you close to me, heavy hood be your hair as it sinks close to me, covering my neck with loving protection, covering my shoulders with your arms entwined with mine as if we were truly one, covering my length and letting me know that we are at a temperature of comfort and ability.
I want your body to clothe me, zip up tight and never let go, hugging me with all the comfort in the world and lifting yourself as to be a silent watcher to me, a shield to my being from the enemies that threaten us.
I want your hands to be the pockets, close yet separate, deeply rooted as if it were your faith placed near my sides. Holding me as I hold you.
I want our love to be the zipper, running through both our forms, creating a new feeling, making a new being, forging us.
Yet who are we? Who are we to claim to be so close in cloth yet so young in mind, so strong in emotion and so weak in body?
We are the very fabric of nature, hooking to machines that form the sewed outlines of other such fabrics, forming the earth and inciting war among our emotion.
We walk through the public proudly, you clinging to me and I, chest puffed like a bird in mating season, acquiring a taste for the strange looks and stranger people who deem to judge us based on their understanding.
Hot weather, cold weather, mild and comfortable weather. Rain or snow, sleet, hail, or hell’s heat, I intend to keep you close, as you are more than cloth covering me, you are the being caressing me, kissing my spirit and cradling my heart in the warm grasps of your fabrics, pressed closely to my chest in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, hiding my form so that none shall see what I deem stay hidden.
And I shall love you, I shall do all that I can to keep you safe and keep you near, mend you and wash you, clearing your mind and body of the impure, soaking your fabric and drying them out once more. Tonguing your soul while hugging you back, rubbing your threaded flaws and letting you know that they are necessary, that they are noted and left as forgotten. Unafraid to dawn you and worthy to criticize yet keeping grateful to have you when the nights get cold and my soul needs your warmth.
The world is a cruel place, and it gets worse every day, which is why, my love, I want you to be my jacket, and I shall be yours.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
~For Eleanor~
<•>
don't
believe in fate or luck,
never won no lottery,
even the next word of
every poem word, product of hard earned
stolen lust affairs
me desiring,
of acquiring
the infamy
of saying it & making you believe it,
all new (ha!)
while reusing worn-out words,
stolen from unknown predecessors,
lovers and prophets
but then, read you,
a-believing now that only princesses
may have the magic powers to do,
to sense, the incongruence,
of the most ordinary lives,
the ways we-hide-in-our-underbellies,
the faces of our elven selves,
that we are desperate to see anew,
without the blemishing scars of experience
writing it morning fresh from dream filled sleep
so my sinner summer sun dying requests
you to be reminded:
even a prince, only has just so many
golden opportunities,
so quit stalling,
shoot out your next from your
handgun mind
yup, no luck, good fate, for me
held in abeyance for
the next first date, maybe
as I write
Katy Perry
is ear-worming in my head,
ignite the light!
do you see us
awaiting in the shadows
for the definition of your words?
<•>
^divergent communication:
pattern in which the sender gives conflicting messages on verbal and nonverbal levels and the listener does not know which message to accept.
read https://hellopoetry.com/eleanor-prince/
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 11:53 AM UTC
A better day:
Is feeling healthy,
A positive thought,
A kind word,
A charitable deed,
A friendly chat,
Sharing laughter,
Caressing a broken heart,
Acquiring knowledge,
Inspiring others,
Celebrating nature’s beauty,
And being touched by God's call to love!
Hussein Dekmak
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 9:35 AM UTC
there is one point of no return
an escape from the usual routine
drawn by stir, shattered by reliance
acquiring such thing isn't so easy, but the conclusions draw to the final proclamation
disjointed wisdom of a young porcupine
kidnapped fugitive released... and *****
by the laws of nature and their own stupidity
they stood next to each other and turned their bodies into two viscid twines, let alone be tangled
the pair of two, an insoluble equation
touching.. feeling... nothing but them
the bodies are lost and departed from society
leaving them both for themselves, acting like ***** dogs, they begun to slowly achieve their amusement
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
i mean, who the hell needs an individualised
orchestra? Mozart doesn't, Beethoven doesn't,
Chopin and Liszt is all piano
so never mind the punk renegade violinist...
how the Indians or the Chinese orchestrated
a population of a billion is staggering,
western powers ********** blanks by comparison,
it's like a body and a virus, translated
with optometry the way we say things,
Sanskrit or the Beijing Ouija - looking at it
is like ingesting the Swiss champagne miracle - nausea
or alternatively lysergia -
it's ******* me up acquiring this tongue
given the history of celebrated colonialism -
proof of the Hackney populace being solely
Caribbean - what a desecrate groundwork to begin with,
maybe Irish maybe Scout maybe Scot,
on the word of honour dynamic pledging
conveniences with the Vatican - look
no further, we're naturalised sadists, football matches
and the sickbed eventualists rather than
evangelists, former nonsense reductionistists...
so they preached their Darwinism exactly against
the theologically roundabout of the pyramids
and the celestial intervention - but expected
nil barbarism... kingly kindness was at least
the expected norm, but if you preach Darwinism
you'll hardly convene on kindness as
the standard norm of expression -
track 12 of the beach boys' pet sounds is elevator music,
i'll be honest... pop music drama of
the band... you never hear of it with orchestras;
the point of genius: you're not really there,
absentee, you do the sacrifice, and make others
make the dough for the bread that's a house and
a family of four, e.g; and just by petting
cats i learned that all animals, petted or wild,
are naturally / intrinsically autistic.
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
I feel the essence of you, and I ache inside,
As you infiltrate my being to the very core,
There is no place for me, unwilling to hide,
Forgive me; I’m unable, to suffer anymore.
Our palpable charisma echoes, who we are,
Shaping us incrementally, acquiring a hold,
We cannot turn back, we’ve come too far,
Our friendship has allowed, love to unfold.
Stranded at crossroads, unable to proceed,
Am I just a dreamer, and you just a dream?
Accepting choices, until I started to bleed,
Fond memories weep, drifting downstream.
So what now, precious love, what do I do?
I’m alone, oh but I feel, the essence of you.
©Paul M Chafer 2016
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 4:44 AM UTC
To house such an adequate thought
and reverse your new born doubt.
You'll become a pariah,
bathed in defile.
Textbook definition, modern-day messiah.
Lies filled with truth, shiny gold in your bile.
Polluting the space between love and life.
Hammering in your image of grief and strife.
It's all moving down a road, the wrong road.
All deciphering this code, it's the right code.
Transfixed at implications of there being any news.
Buying an idea, mister pariah. You've got the blues.
And the highway traveling shoes.
But it's buying, not acquiring.
You seem to forget you spent all your dying moments.
Simply to seek this race's long lost atonement.
You've only bought the right to rot alone.
So now, oh great and high in regard, pariah.
You still think you're the main arm? The big alpha?
Time to realize your life's a farm, without it's farmer
While you wander around wearing armor.
Pretending to be a revolutionary of the highest order!
Climb down this throne, mister pariah.
Feed your family and need your friends.
Go pick out all your favorite odds and ends.
Make sure life is full of thrills...
and stop trying to build these chaotic hills -
of distress
and just confess that things are as they are
No matter how hard this seems to bare
That love is far, but we can make it there.
Hell, might already be near to it.
Time to get a new suit.
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
It happens, like drifting, like falling, and her words calming and refreshing like the gust of strong breeze in the month of June,
Take me way, from the polluted world, this world so selfish, so eager to take your love like industrialists acquiring as much of land as they can,
But never wearing heart their on their sleeve, or like cutting farmlands and building casinos on them rearing greed,
No, no you’re not beautiful, look in the mirror; can u see the innocence and honesty?
That you lost to thousand lies written on texts, spoken on phones, lies gradually building and swirling like tornadoes breathed into eyes, eyes that once loved you and glowed when you spoke
I have lost the innocence, in the hurry to grow up, speaking of things and words that appear mature to me, but knowing that the meaning of these words is lost to me, for my heart yearns to hope again,
Hopes to learn to trust again, to believe that love is all that we need. But all of these are lies.
The growing up is painful and so is living in this world which accurately teaches you math’s and physics, but only leaves you to calculate the demonic deeds you do,
And how your are only surrounded by ghosts of what used to be honest mass of skin and bones.
And, and if your are truly lucky and may have showered love on your close ones, showers like that of July bursting and lighting up the earth with buds of belief of survival and loved the way tree roots are loyal to the soil with your past lovers
Then, it happens like lightening in deserts, all your fears drown but a new kind of fear also crashes against your body,
It happens like that, you can’t breathe without them but then again they are the only ones that can steal your breath from your lungs by kissing someone else,
But they mend your broken wing of lost trust, and show you again what it feels like to swing back and forth on the rainbow colored swings in the afternoon rain, with your hair flying everywhere and your heart finally feeling free of this burdening world,
And they show you how, love is all you need. And that isn’t a lie
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
No dispute. I’m not here to refute.
Hardly can register, let alone compute.
I try and navigate without quite knowing the route
but i would prefer the journey even if the destination isn't absolute.
All about life, acquiring knowledge like it’s loot,
I’m on an adventure through time as peaceful warrior recruit.
Making observations sometimes astute
and tying to figure out the difference between being silent and being mute.
Using honest and concentrated intentions that never dilute,
I deal the cards and find the patterns that suit
the direction I’m aiming towards to shoot.
Taking the steps necessary boot by boot
with the idea that growing forward comes from some kind of root.
With concepts both vast and minute,
some tend measure me by angles and label me acute
but I’d rather be noted by the endeavors of my pursuit
so I’m going to be have a filter that shall not pollute
and have words that thoughts may deem as forbidden fruit.
If you happen to disagree, makes you not necessarily brute
but if you feel like me then find a clever way to salute
and discover what ever it is for you that you find resolute.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 8:08 AM UTC
Don't marry the first one, that you take to bed
don't let victories and ego, over inflate your head
Stick to your books, and keep your mind free, and clear
try not to worry so much, and contain, each and every fear
Never take the top bunk, or a chair with back, to door
eat well in the morning, and never eat food, off of the floor
Don't overindulge in anything, or even, anyone
wear your sunscreen, but don't, stay out of the sun
Live life to the fullest, keep your heart young, and pure
If you do this my friend, of many things you can be sure
Like living to an old age, and keeping up your health
seeing your gran-kids, maybe acquiring a little wealth
But most importantly, I would be remiss
keep secrets to yourself, please, remember this
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC