"affects" poems
Science says that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.
But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied in...the highlights of passion.
These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.
Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.
Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.
Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.
This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds parallel eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...
See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?
This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.
Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.
Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 10:53 PM UTC
Lairs twist life so it's tasty to the lazy
Powerful to the weak and crazy
Brilliant and seductive to the
ignorant youth
But even in pain, there is beauty in the truth
Even a tiny bit of deceit is dishonorable
For only cowards lie selfishly without preamble
As lies only strengthen a liar's defects
A liar's character, mind, & spirit gains no positive affects
The abuser of the truth paints with disappearing colors
Valuing the canvass at worthless dollars
For once the veil of the facade is lifted
Honesty, integrity and trust can never be re-gifted.
Unhappy are the takers
Or why else be fakers?
But to devastate the essence of the believer
Measures the cruelty of the deceiver
Inner peace with self deception
Is the doing of one's own soul's destruction
However if truth be told
When lies gradually unfold,
Is it better to be the believer
Or the deceiver?
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
A lone child might be settle in being the only one.
But many siblings can describe their many ways of fun.
Whether it's wrestling until it turns into a fight.
To them it seems natural.
To parents it's just not right.
But the strongest bond that they all share.
Is all for one and one for all.
In any battle that affects them.
Then it's a war.
From the oldest down to the youngest.
Yes, you will have the mediator.
The negogiator.
And the fighters amongst them.
But when one is ill in health.
Watch the way they care for them.
All the wars and battles seems to cease.
And their love for them quickly appears.
Yes, siblings.
The love amongst them is thick.
That they worry themselves sometimes into ill health.
But their bond is strong.
Even when they don't get along.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
You think I'm oblivious
You tell me I'm stupid
you think it's okay
You think I don't know
what you think of me
to notice what you say
and you leave the words
on display
I don't hear what you say
but I can see the hatred
it suffocates the air
It pollutes me
not only does
it affect me
but it affects others
It mutilates the people
who stay around you
they become immune
to your pollution
They breath in your
hate filled air
and become permitted
to your profanation
You suffocate me
and you don't even
seem to care
Please let me go
I cant bare the words
lingering in the air
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
“I'm big, you're little.
I'm smart, you're dumb.
I'm right, you're wrong.”
This is what you've taught me,
but I've learned another way.
I try to be so peaceful,
I practice every day.
I've been through quite a lot,
And I've had to be so strong.
My message must have gotten lost,
been fighting for so long.
You raised me as a woman,
Yet you treat me like a man
The way that I'm reacting
often goes against my plan.
I'm trying to reach out and
you call it my excuse.
What you see as parenting,
Feels like abuse.
I feel very threatened and
begin to snap back;
I realize my mistake too late,
I try hard to retract.
I need some space to breathe,
I need a little air...
You get so worked up;
leaving no room for repair.
I try to walk away,
I try to be alone,
But you will never let it be
And that is set in stone.
I feel backed into a corner,
As though I have been trapped.
You push me all my life
And expect that I won't snap.
I am very agile,
But I am just a person.
I try to learn to bend
so the problem will not worsen.
You think that I'm rebellious
And full of disrespect
Whenever I'm defensive
As I am made upset.
I don't want to feel scared
And I don't want to feel pain,
Once you introduce those feelings
It can drive a girl insane.
I'm sorry that I haven't turned out
quite how you expected.
My problems are ignored
And my person feels rejected.
Expose me to the anger of
which I have been subjected...
I forget why I'm hurting and
I follow your objective.
The things that I'm saying
are just sitting in my head,
You may not remember them
as things that you once said.
I don't mean to preach and
I don't try to follow,
But your anger is so loud
That I find mine hard to swallow.
I'll leave if you need me to,
But that's not what i need.
I want to coexist with you,
I'm just not up to your speed.
I need love and I need patience,
But you have your own issues
And you cannot face this.
It's chalked down to
"He's old and he'll
never change his ways"
If this isn't an excuse,
I don't know what more to say.
You think that we are different,
but we are quite the same.
You don't see yourself in me
And I find that quite strange.
You say I make my problems
Into someone else's,
While doing just the same...
Am I the only one who is selfish?
I never mean to do or say
the things that I have
I wish that you could help me out,
but you are just my dad.
You are who you are,
no matter who it affects.
I just have to get over it,
as everyone expects.
I'll try not to be like you;
Try to avoid all of your habits.
The idea is in front of me,
I just can't seem to grab it.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
They say there was once a bird,
The silent type always unheard,
Hovering up in the sky,
For all of eternity would it ever fly.
The touch of a human upon it was always forbidden,
Making a biological secret be forever hidden,
Due to the transparency and the height of which cannot be reached,
It makes another lesson of evolution not breached.
What is know, however very little,
Is the bird makes one feel rather belittled.
It contains an immortality so great,
That it is forever the same and never grows from it's traits.
However, even though the phoenix of true legend is made of fire,
This version is something that will always stay higher.
It moves ever slow, like a turtle moving its bare arms,
Yet it seems as if it forever sounds its alarms.
Our alarms we sound at the dark times, though,
As this phoenix creature begins to cast it's own shadow.
All citizens race to their homes,
Awaiting a closer strike from the phoenix within the clouds that roams.
The phoenix moves, but notices no one near,
Feeling the shivering of the cold and the town's fear.
Emotion shows as small drops fall to the ground,
For the phoenix finally screams it's thunderous sound.
The great ground pound hits with the force of the phoenix's body,
As if saying, "I wanted to be nice, but you hate me now, so nobody stop me!"
One human man walks out to know what's going on,
And realizes that the phoenix is blocking the sun.
The phoenix above continues to cry
The tears that do not heal, the ones that fall into the man's eye.
He quickly wipes them off,
And then looks all the way up.
A question to the creature, "Why do you cry?"
The phoenix responds with another tear out of it's eye.
The man explains, "Now, listen please.
I only want to be the one to appease."
The phoenix slowly stops crying its last tear,
Almost agreeing to listen the man's prayer.
The man continues, "Unlike your brother who can heal,
Your tears can do the same as the unreal."
He explains, "Your sadness affects us all,
As are our ears deafened by your great call.
Now, all I hope for you is to select a different place and find it,
So everyone, including you, will have some needed peace and quiet."
The phoenix slightly nodded, with one last drop.
It suddenly broke apart, with one final pop.
The creature broke away to seek it's next destination,
As it needed to go away and not cause more devastation.
The phoenix is seen no more,
Though I'm people have still seen it before.
Look out in the sky with the best possible sight,
And you may see the phoenix still hovering in it's slow flight.
May 21, 2011
May 21, 2011 at 11:30 PM UTC
Nothings how it looks in fact, maybe the opposite
People say I'm energetic
When I'm fighting for consciousness
Downed NyQuil to solve my imperfections
Took Benadryl to sleep
Drugs make chatter over the back and forth banter of boredom
And action
A trip to the hospital
Affects the people to care for a minute
Hallucinogens fade, but this music it stays
No 3G left **** it lets sing
Words slurred
eyes red
I don't give a **** spread love
Acceptance
And tears of joy
The ones that run over the face of a baby boy
Mama's proud
Baby you're so smart!
You're gonna be so successful!
Yeah I remember those days
Now its nicotine sticks on my lips and E's for my mom to brag about
They think I'm lost
Am I?
Testing to be done
Society approved pills to pop
And a letter from my aunt
Words spread like dye in water
I've dropped
Down from the heaven of the early years
Lucifer can maneuver his way around the city unnoticed
A spy who tells lies to himself and greets the people as equal
Human again
I'd like to be
All I want to do is live!
But a life's money, family, and a plan
Floaters get flushed
Couch potatoes get crushed
Lazy *****
Ha
They just get fat
Like these joints everybody wants to roll
**** is for beginners but what happens to the pros?
No trophy for the taking
No stack of gold
Just a massive headache
And dependence
Diet coke doesn't count
My sis puts her heart on her sleeve
Me
I don't even think I have one
No wait it's up my ***
**** me good **** me long
That only love is what turns me on
If not
Keep out
Of my head
Or
Switch, light
Too god **** bright to illuminate
these white walls I'm hired to paint
24hrs, 365 days a year, until the day it’s complete
Avoidance
Births time from time
Cuts wrists to elbow
Show how mellow
I can be
Let me cope
Every days a new day
Born today die tomorrow
Next day
Wake up
Look in the mirror and decide
what you'd like to see
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
The word “identity” has two different meanings:
1. The fact of being who or what a person or thing is.
2. A close similarity or affinity.
I would like to focus on the first meaning.
My identity is based on who I am as a person.
It’s based on the things I do and don’t like.
My identity is based on the clothes I wear.
My identity is based on the way I choose to talk.
My identity is based on my thoughts and opinions.
My identity isn’t based on my Autism or Anxiety.
Some people say they’re identity is their Autism.
And if they’re happy with that, that’s great.
But I was just recently diagnosed with Autism.
And while I have had it my entire life.
I didn’t know anything about it.
I did, however, know that I had anxiety issues.
I’ve had anxiety for a long time, and it’s bad.
I can recognize when an attack is gonna happen.
This isn’t always the case, but a lot of the time, it is.
I know what helps me when I have an anxiety attack.
I have an understanding of what I can and can't handle.
My Autism, on the other hand, is still a mystery to me.
I know that it affects the way I think and learn.
I know it’s the reason for why I am sensitive to temperature.
I know it’s why so had such a hard time in school.
But I refuse to say that my Autism and anxiety identify me as a person.
I have known my personality way long never than both my Autism and anxiety combined.
This isn’t true for everyone, but it is for me.
This is the way I choose to approach my Autism and anxiety.
I’m Autistic, and I’m not ashamed of it.
I have anxiety, and I’m working hard on it.
But I’m not Autism, and I’m not Anxiety.
I’m me.
And I will always stand by this train of thought.
I know that there are times when my interests become my coping skills.
But when I’m not anxious, then they are just my interests.
When I’m having an anxiety attack, then they are the skills I need in order to function.
Right now, this isn’t a coping skill.
My writing this, isn’t a form of therapy.
This is an interest of mine.
I love to write, and was thinking about this, so I decided to speak my mind.
I’m happy to say I’m happy right now.
I don’t feel a bit of stress, and if I do, then one of my interests will be used to help me through it.
Until then, I’m just doing what makes me happy.
And I’m happy that I know myself well to recognize this.
You don’t have to agree with me on anything I just said.
I just ask that you respect that these are my opinions.
I’m an individual who just happens to have Autism and anxiety.
Alright, that’s all I got, I’ve just been in a writing mood over the last few days.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 2:37 PM UTC
yeah
you might describe me as
"annoying"
"obsessive"
"weird"
"in her own world"
but
it's only because
fictional people mean more to me
then you do
and yeah
that might be sad
but to me
it's my whole world
what happens on the screen of a tv
affects me more then
what happens in my school
and watching my favorite character die
hurts so much
and i'm so tired of being categorized
as just another fan-girl
because i feel like so much than that
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Katie the previous lives lady tries to rescue her nephew
Katie's nephew Jackson Gooden is in town to spend some time with Katie and it couldn't have come at a worst time, you see the kidnapper who kidnapped Graham Thorne, well his reincarnation was in town and he was getting a messed up head with everyone telling him he was mentally deranged, the only one who helped him was Katie, and when Katie took time off to look after her nephew when he's in town, he almost flipped his marbles untill he decided to prove to everyone else that he is Steven Bradley and use Katie as a blackmail target, you see what he plans to do is kidnap Katie's 15 year ok'd nephew Jackson and blackmail Katie,if she refuses to see him, the weight will fall on her nephews head and **** him, yes this is the way for Katie to make sure she makes me happy.
Katie begged for him to let him go, and then say you will be a pig in your next life, what you do here affects your future happiness, let my nephew go and we'll talk about treatment for your illness, and he said that he thought she'd understood him, but really she is just like the other's, and Katie had to keep telling him that he is good and will never stray, and she did that because her patient had a pocket knife at her nephews head, and Katie said, I believe this is the wrong way to handle your illness,,I told you that you kidnapped a kid, and seconds later you have my 15 year old nephew at knifepoint, you are
******* up, and also you are making a mockery of my good business, he just laughed still determined he'll **** him
And make Katie jitter.
Jackson tried to scream, so the knife would be removed from his neck, and Katie said, I will find a way that this man can't ever harm you,,you have to refuse to go anywhere with him, he had a weakness, and that is, if you laugh at him, he'll suddenly be scared of him, and Katie then said that she doesn't believe in laughing in her job, but she decided to make a exception here, because really she wanted time off with Jackson.
The reincarnation of Steven Bradley said that he will hold Jackson and Katie for a huge ransom and Jackson said, you can't get me, I am too smart, you see i am young, you are old
I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, i'm a young dude, your an old fogie, I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, a stinken little old fogie ma--n.
And then he ran and Jackson said 1 win for young against old, and then Jackson and Katie spent time sightseeing for 4 days and Katie, I know she is born to tell people previous lives stories, really enjoyed being away from the office and when she came back,,the first phone call made was a phone call to the cops, issueing a restraining order on that Steven Bradley reincarnation, and then Jacksoc went back to his parents house saying he was kidnapped by a ghost while Katie tried a new approach to tell people previous lives, so she can keep love one's safe for the future of her business, yes that's what she'll do.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
What is Poetry?
Is it emotions flowing onto paper?
Or is it the tranquil sea that holds the world's tears?
What is Poetry?
Is it the outpouring of emotions onto
A canvas of beauty?
Despair?
What is Poetry?
Look around you.
The lives of those surrounding yours are Poetry.
Those feelings that extend and pour out to one another is Poetry.
What affects you, runs through your being and
Makes you who you are.
Who you are is Poetry.
Poetry, the undying form, style, wanders through the generations.
An emotion?
Love is Poetry.
An indescribable emotion flowing from the depths of the soul.
Such is Poetry.
Reader, listener, friend.
No poet can say what Poetry is.
Similes, metaphors, analogies,
All just chalk on the board of life.
A poet can't describe Poetry.
Even now I am left in the fog of understanding, contemplation, and wonder.
So, friend, again I ask,
What is Poetry?
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 2:24 PM UTC
we are all rocks. we are built up over many years, influenced by our surroundings as we weather and erode as part of the conditions we are subjected to - the trials that we are put through. we are compressed by the weight of heavy loads. we will be weighed down by our heavy hearts, and crushed by forces of the universe that are bigger than us. we are made up of many sediments, fragments of other rocks. the influence of others. we are the composition of everyone whom we've met, and their impact on our lives. some people leave larger pieces of sediment, while some are smaller than a tiny grain of sand. but they make us who we are today. and we never die. we live on for millions of years, you and me - these rocks are the physical imprints of our spiritual souls on the earth, because everyone affects something in one way or the other. we may not believe it, but believe this: we have the power to change the world - just by being here. we are a part of the bigger picture, a series of rocks that make up part of human history. wherever you go, you will have made your mark. be it just a tiny dent in the soil, or a boulder that fell from a mountain - realise that things would be different if you had not been what you are and gone where you've been.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
two days
before we loaded the car
with what seemed like the entirety
of my heart and belongings
to move me across the state to attend college,
my baby brother found me on the kitchen floor,
crying
about the microwave.
well,
not just the microwave.
he found me in a crumpled up heap,
sobbing that this day
would be the last i had
to microwave things
in
this
particular
microwave.
i couldn’t justify my lament then.
my dad chalked it up to ***
my brother called me a drama queen,
and my mom told me i needed to eat less microwaveable things.
but i think i might’ve figured it out now.
five months later.
y’see, i grew up an ARMY brat.
attended five different elementary schools,
two separate middle schools,
one high school,
and two colleges.
i was never good at saying goodbye,
but i’m a pro at walking away.
i found out quickly
that while the faces and names
of my friends and classmates
change from state to state,
the character tropes
stay basically the same.
people and places become such replaceable things.
i worry,
a lot,
about being a replaceable thing.
there are talented people in this world.
people that can divine the past and future
from coffee grounds and tea leaves.
but can anyone here tell me what kinds of awful things my footsteps say about me?
there are boot marks,
with my name on them,
in places i know i should never have been.
and clumps of dirt stuck to my heels
that have been with me longer than some friends have.
i sat on the floor last night
while my love explained physics to me.
he told me
that gravity is a constant force,
and of course,
the earth’s gravity affects each and every one of us.
but our individual gravity affects the earth as well.
according to newton’s third law,
the earth pulls of me
with the same force that i pull on the earth.
my mass disrupts space time.
carl sagan once told me
through the clarifying prism of the television screen,
that we are all stardust,
collapsed suns
and black matter.
we belong to no place.
i belong to no place.
i belong to no place.
i don’t cry about the microwave anymore,
i don’t waste my tears on saying goodbye.
i know that every thing and every one has their time,
and sometimes that time is brief.
it’s a hard pill to swallow,
ultimately my favorite self descriptor is ‘infallible’.
but somedays, i fall
just to stand up and see:
the sun still rises,
the earth still turns,
the microwave still makes bomb-ass chicken nuggets,
and i am still here.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
I had a gf that used to get called a feminazi,
but no one ever called me a feminanarchist;
I think what we really were is Feminihilists.
FFP opposed ***********
defined as the sexualized degradation,
********** humiliation, objectification,
subjugation, violation, psychological
annihilation, exploitation, & violence
against women as distinguished from
erotica based on the mutuality
of power and pleasure.
According to FFP's pioneering founder Page Mellish,
*********** provides the training for ******
assault & **** results in the objectification
of women; affects women's ability to get equal rights
& equal pay, & encourages men to associate
*** with violence; Page ultimately claimed
that _all_ feminist issues | [ , ], [ ]
are rooted in ***********
& in a 1986 letter to the editor of The Wall Street Journal,
she asserted that FFP is "not against love & not against ***
Page held that all men or women
who did not fight against ***********
were accountable for the violence
against women, claiming that women
who enjoy *********** or rough ***
had internalized the male [gaze] & |
male definitions of power
Page's positions on ***********
have been debated outside FFP,
including with respect to porn's agency
on crime & feminist & gay definitions of ****
Legislation alone was not a solution,
according to Page; it was also necessary to remove _"the need for ****
vehemently anti-censorship & pro-sex,
Page taught me to show everything from
all sides; my other feminista professors
were pro-monogamy [patriarchy] while
Page was a combat boot wearing girly-girl;
she had these cute little doe-eyed Q's following
her around carrying the placards [ ] for her
spontaneous demonstrations against underwear
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
What I'm imagining isn't considered pretty
You don't want to know where you're sitting
What I'm imagining isn't considered pleasant
We're inappropriately using a pheasant
What I'm imagining doesn't go with God
And is laughed at because it's odd
Into my life they peer
Trying to insert fear
My owl head on a swivel
My rabbit ears perked
When people don't act civil
And decency is shirked
I needed answers
For my cancer
I find them in love and pain
They both seem the same
I begin to view the rain
As a type of gain
Everyone knows love's scorn
Which leaves me torn
I can't help but feel my situation differs
Something about the rejection seems stiffer
So I become a shapeshifter
To avoid the hate gifters
To avoid bearing the shame
Of being called names
I know other people have it worse
Sometimes that feels like a curse
I can't gauge the importance of major events
In my life
I don't know whether to think they're intense
Or just right
Maybe I'm just being dramatic
But these instances aren't sporadic
When those that I love
Push and shove
I start to wonder if I'm broken or stained
Until I realize we're all burnt by love's flames
We all have a path to travel
And they're all made of gravel
Our feet become sore
Which affects our core
We find people below us on the totem pole
To know how it feels to treat someone cold
For when our enthusiasm for love has faded
It's easy to become jaded
There are things we're ashamed of
That morph us into something unrecognizable
In which we should be truly ashamed
In the mirror we look the same
But our actions are toxic
We become radioactive
We see where our stock sits
And become merely reactive
And it's hard to find grace
After being punched in the face
But one must remember punches come in all forms
And we must not punch back to survive the storm
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 5:42 AM UTC
---
Will somebody please
Slow down the train
It's going through hills
And rough terrain
I tried to be the engineer
But that didn't work
This much is clear
I can't run, I can't roam
I can't DO LIFE ON MY OWN.
I'm on a ride that I can't bear
Filled with loneliness... despair
Not knowing how, which way to turn
I will go the way I've learned.
I won't harbor hatred in my heart
I know my love and I must part
But I don't think of him as bad
We've broken up, and that is sad
But I want my family
here on this site
Know that lately
I haven't been right...
My mind is distraught
And overwrought
I can hardly follow
My train of thought
Please forgive me
I'm slipping my gears
I'm haunted by fears
Have counted years
I'm sure sorry this affects you
It seems like I'm untrue
I want all poets here on HP
To very kindly PRAY FOR ME.
SEND GOOD THOUGHTS
In your own way.
I will also be in prayer
For I have now met The Engineer
SoulSURVIVOR
5/4/2015
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 4:00 PM UTC
Just because the color of my skin
I somehow never fit in
With all of those girls
The ones with the pale skin and springy curls
Whose eyes are brilliant shades of the rainbow
Unlike my natural hair
Eyes dark brown, and skin unfair
I can sit in the mirror and stare
Wondering why people like me aren't on the magazines
That I read
Or on the commercials I see on T.V.
Thinking some days that I'm not pretty
Because I'm not like them
Those girls who I see everyday
Who will never know the way it feels
To be a black girl
Have people say
You're pretty for a dark girl
Like my skin tone affects my beauty
How I am suppose to look
I'd date you if you weren't black
So when did being attractive become a matter of race?
When did I not become enough
All due to the color of my face?
But they don't understand
The one that hurts the most
Worse of all
Worse of all
Is
YOU DON'T ACT LIKE A BLACK GIRL
Oh
Excuse me for having class
Not shaking my ***
Having decorum
And speaking my mind; politely
My mother raised me right
To act right
Showing me that life would
be tough for girls like me
Girls who didn't fit into the stereotypes of our race
Girls who dressed modestly
Talked properly
Girls who didn't fight
Girls who acted white
But I always thought I was just acting right
But no one ever saw
That I was just being me
Because you see
I may be a black girl
But a black girl isn't all I'll ever be
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 9:11 AM UTC
I'm barefoot in 46 degrees and I must remember that my perception of things must not encapsulate how I truly perceive. Soldered commentary is bleak but is all I've left, all my years have given me and my years have been few.
To be constantly bombarded with the question, "what is it that I really want?" is fervently exhausting and consistently hypocritical and I'm a hack. The conclusion is always that I'm a hack without a win to present or a failure to fall back upon. As a hack, I've left myself with very few plans to alter or hungry mindsets to feed.
After glistening the only thing that remains is to burn out and the thought of extinguishing so prematurely provokes a physical falter and frequent respiratory failure.
Ask your brother if he lingers at times. Ask your sister if sometimes, she means what she says and she should always say no. Ask your friends why you should be anyone's friend and whether or not the chance to swing into hyperbolic criticism ever affects how they make their choices, hoof their steps.
Their answer should always be no and their input should always be invaluable.
Ask yourself if brain power should always be set to alter mind power and ask yourself is alteration is ever even possible. The answer should always be no.
The conclusion to draw should always be his. The choices you make, always expert and ground out by consistent respiratory failure. Ask yourself if you'll always be an animal and when will that stop. Ask yourself if time will determine whether or not this "thing" is worth doing or this "thing" is worth composing. Ask yourself why you're not the young girl who sings soul on the street, whose tremble sets off car alarms and inner requisitioning. The answer will never be the same.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 5:08 AM UTC
Preventing contamination,
A constant challenge in cell culture.
Contamination not only affects,
The culture in question and,
Costs time and money,
But also endangers the reproducibility of results.
No cell culture problem,
Is as universal as that of culture loss
Due to contamination.
Generally, contamination may be separated,
Into categories of microbial,
And eukaryotic contamination.
Examples of microbial contamination include:
Bacteria (including Mycoplasma),
Fungi and yeast;
Eukaryotic contamination includes:
Cross-contamination with other cell lines.
Bacteria, yeast and fungi,
The three more common types of contamination,
But luckily these forms are often detectable,
Under the microscope and,
By visual cues,
Like colour or turbidity changes in the medium.
Mycoplasma is a small genus of bacteria,
That lack a cell wall and for this reason,
They remain unaffected by common antibiotics.
They are also difficult to detect,
With standard microscopes,
Due to their size, about 0.1 μm in diameter,
And the fact that they often attach to host cells.
To prevent contamination,
Use 70% ethanol for disinfecting,
Equipment & surfaces,
Related to cell culture.
Sterile filter the media first,
Before bringing to the lab.
Fetal Bovine Serum,
A potential source of contamination,
Contains mycoplasma.
Filter it at 0.1 μm, or,
Gamma irradiate it.
Aseptic technique,
Necessary.
The laboratory workers be the last,
But not the least source of contamination.
Teach them the ideal laboratory practices,
To ensure asepticity in a laboratory.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
THEY will have the final word.
Believe what the PARTY says is true.
Even Facecrime gives you away,
For BIG BROTHER is watching you.
Honesty? Bah, such nonsense!
Loyalty is what must sell.
State-spread rumors incite the mob
In your bleak, dystopian hell.
Reject evidence of eyes and ears.
That's what THEY say. Watch how hate
Turns the unquestioning supporter
Against the enemies of the state.
The Goodthinkful, unaware
How language affects their thoughts and behavior,
Show how ignorance is strength
And lavish praise upon their savior.
Manipulating public opinion,
THEY know well-spread lies will last,
For that's how THEY'LL control the future,
And that's how THEY control the past.
Doublethink is what THEY call it:
The clever art of reality control.
Ignorance is strength, THEY tell you.
Controlled insanity is THEIR goal.
The more powerful THEY become,
The less THEY prove to be your friend.
It's NOT about what's good for the people.
Power is NOT a means but an end.
War is declared on language and memory.
Inconvenient facts are rejected.
Science is reviled, and THEY
Discredit people once respected.
Doublespeak narrows the range of thought.
By caving in you might survive.
Two and two make four, but sometimes
THEY'LL say that two and two make five.
Opinions are not tolerated.
Protective stupidity: that's THEIR plan.
You think THEY can't control your thoughts,
But, oh, THEY can. THEY really can.
Do you look at your screen, or does
Your screen look at you? Or Both?
Do you know how much THEY know
Or if THEY know you've kept your oath?
Who's the next to be vaporized?
Who's the next to become an unperson?
As long as THEY control your "thinking,"
Everything can only worsen.
If only to awaken from the nightmare
Where truth becomes a likelihood
And we retain humanity!
Wouldn't that be "doubleplusgood"?
-by Bob B (8-30-18)
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
It's hard to extol the merits of mankind
and to lavish excessive praise is insane;
recognize the gamut of vain emotion
and treatment of our brothers that's inhumane.
The natural nature of man is hardly good -
Proof is found in our vocabulary;
despite incredible accomplishments of this world,
poor relationships of man to extremes are still carried.
Our literature and news is littered
with ugly views of crime and hate.
For brief review of the damage perpetuated,
let's take time to reiterate.
There's slavery, ****** ****** torture,
greed, **** hatred, genocide, racism,
bigotry, fear, starvation, thievery,
lasciviousness and terrorism.
Uncaring predators have always existed,
unable to overcome the evil within.
Such conditions show our need for a loving God,
to triumph over the presence and affects of sin.
Author Note:
From my book: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory
The ISBN is: 1-4196-5051-3
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 11:32 AM UTC
for Lori, Riley and Kendrick
the questioning words jump off the page,
into two hands transforming,
words shape shifting into
multicolored ink stained fingers,
now, all a chokehold on my brain,
my throaty gasps rasping from
a simplistic convolution -
single questioning deserving an answer
what are you made of?
the obvious answers left in the slow lane,
bone, tissue, rivers and arteries of blue bloods,
just oil and fuel of a containership,
but the cargo carried, that’s the real stuff
you have insight inside that cannot be seen,
self-survival instincts that morph into morals,
our shared air affects you differently,
a sense of defending, caring,
costless and costliest simultaneously,
spaghetti strands strong sinewed intertwining,
into a better human than most
to call you hero is wrongly insufficient,
but the thesaurus lends me no substitute,
weep, I do,
as the spring and summer blushing green
will not be seen by you at all, and by me,
seen now so differently,
when thinking of
soil-born courage instinctual that has no name,
but grows only in nature
what are you made of?
we know now, but knew not well,
that thing that makes you leap first,
was all you, the entirety of the best,
that exists, existed, as reminders to us,
to mine it, wear it,
medal it upon our fabric
*you three,
breathe it back, exhale it from where ever you are,
that trace chemical odor in our atmosphere,
of life-giving sweetness, a rebirthing chlorophyll freedom
that we humans all desperately need,
even just to know it exists,
and inform us*
what we need to be made of
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 5:43 PM UTC
‘Apocalypto’ is a film set in a Maya civilisation and consists of a story that takes place in one tribe and how a passing tribe affects them to a degree of destruction. The story unfolds in a linear way of storytelling which is basic but still effective. From director Mel Gibson, the director of ‘Braveheart’ and ‘Passion of the Christ’. An underrated director of sorts but a great one nonetheless. Overlooked due to his acting career, he has been holding back on us as a director.
The characters are set to be living a Mayan life and go about their days behaving as such but are rather generous and civilized for such an old race of people. They live peacefully and secluded until they interact with another tribe which brings about their downfall. And the way in which a Mayan civilization might go about solving problem as common as a natural disaster. Through sacrifices to the God's as a way to solve problems and mass results. Very accurate to the Mayan culture as well as the entire movie taking place without one word of English, all dialogue being said in the Mayan language. Another credit to the film.
The directing style for this film is beautiful and flawless to say the least. No shaky cam used or hand held cam either. All fluent movement of the camera to create a great story, one that flows naturally. The use of camera angles is creative and different, using tilted angles to convey a certain mood and straight framed shots to convey another mood.
The performances stand out as a huge positive, the actors who I have honestly never heard of give Oscar worthy performances. Mel Gibson uses unknown actors as not to compromise the film by the status of the actors. These actors and actresses give a hard performance based on body language and quiet moments, the enduring task of learning to be emotional through a foreign language. Which is why I would guess Mel Gibson used local actors who are more aware of the Mayan language than American actors.
The set design is truly Oscar worthy in this film. The Mayan temples and tribe lands are captured perfectly in the sets for this film. Well build and suited towards the amazon environment. As well as good filming locations, using the wonders of the amazon rainforest as an advantage.
In final thoughts, I believe that Mel Gibson is a stunning director with an eye for detail and a beautiful visual director. A director that can produce great work. ‘Apocalypto’ to me in the near future will become a period piece masterpiece. A tale of survival and dedication that will live on through the ages.
Rating: Film - 8.4
Personal - 8.9
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
"Bulimia nervosa, an eating disorder that involves bingeing on food followed by purging, can cause gum disease, osteoporosis, kidney disease, heart disease, and death. Bulimia affects mostly women and teens." - WebMD.com
My eyes blurred as I wiped away the remaining evidence from my mouth.
I cried.
It seems that bulimia had taken over my life these past couple of months.
Even my hands shake now.
For some reason, I didn't seem to care that I could give myself cancer with this, that I could die from this.
My headaches have gotten worse, my depression even more intense.
And my poor, sweet mother, willing to believe that I am sick and NOT doing this to myself.
Could I really do this to her?
She now has the duty to care for several children that are not hers because she cares too much.
She tries, but she no longer listens to her own children.
My mother is broken.
Revealing this to her will only break her more.
So I'll keep quiet.
Purging and ridding myself of my shame and self respect.
What could possibly be worse?
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
She wakes up with a shock, instantly feels the blood boil from her head down to her toes. Its the sound of that door.
The repetitive sound of that door slamming is a reminder of the poison in her life who seamlessly seeps into her heart continuing to infuse her mind with hate.
That door is used for a swinging entrance into her soul leaving it with touches of darkness until she simply can't understand how to love another person; how to empathize with another's time of distress. She loses touch, suffering to understand what love is.
The life who uses that door brought her into this world and smothers their existence with cold truths, lies, neglect, and stories of their past; inflicting damaging images and thoughts that cannot be unheard.
She's trying to persevere, but they persist to acknowledge their unreceptive response to her cry's for help, it destroys her light; leading her down the path where the poison starts to consume all her thoughts and distorts her rights to express herself with the constant feeling of never being heard.
You built darkness in her and every layer affects even the smallest of challenges in life but you left her with a flame of curiosity to understand what others could not even care to comprehend; she sustains her curiosity for life.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 6:39 PM UTC