"affiliate" poems
I was like every other scientist
for love to me was just
a neural reaction to a certain
stimulus presented to an individual,
just a hormonal response of a person
to a certain situation laid out to them
Like a configuration of ****** muscle
tissue of one results to an increase
of serotonin, dopamine, and for some,
oxytocin of another
At times, one would affiliate this
****** muscle configuration
to that of pentahydroxyhexanal (sugar)
and that was discombobulating
I could not understand how
a smile becomes sweet
and yet at that moment
when I saw you smile
I immediately understood
that science
science cannot explain this
This feeling I have when I see you
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
Sleep seems to be the only break in this globalized world.
Even among the lesser advanced cultures
It's the only break from everything we have to affiliate with.
Death is just permanent sleep
Be thankful you wake up every day
Morning, Afternoon, whichever.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
As the sun reaches it zenith & the moon becomes full,
Soldiers are deployed at various point,
Allowing their thought to wander away into ephemeral violence,
Well armed,
Red pointers at human sight,
killing in the pretence of liberation,
Defenceless civilians murdered in sight,
I don't have the adequate vocabulary to constructively & emotionally create that atmosphere,
As a poet they don't mind if I make a sound
But it's a real problem
if I ever get too loud,
It enrages me,
I'm bitterly miffed,
Imagine the agony, stress, depression & tension they are
going through,
Let's be factual,
Their based desire & legitimate purpose is to associate ,affiliate & standardize us as terrorist,
They come in front of our tv & give us speech our forefathers have never heard of,
Humanity in it eternity have been blindfolded & deviated from the truth,
They have become the fixed & Luminous center around which innumerable lifestyle revolves,
Civilization will not lead mankind to insanity,
It feels good to be in power ,
But a day will come when they will ponder, reflect & introspect,
but their reflection will be to no avail,
Reflect over what I say,
In silence & tranquillity,
We may be on a Long arduous journey,
But victory is to the oppressed,
Categorically & selectively speaking ,
It will become a practical reality,
Innocent souls are been lost everyday,
In pakistan,Syria,Iraq,Iran
Yet the conference continues,
Killings intensifies,
Women are murdered,
Fathers are slaughtered,
Kids are held captive some rigorously excluded,
Without them labouring humanity searching for peace will perish,
It's a sad time we live in,
Educated leaders with no heart of human sympathy,
Acting upon their based desires & ego,
You may call this character assassination,
I call it supreme words of justice
Only time will tell who is the true terrorist
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
In secret
Words prepare dialogue transporting emotions like pilots
With no mercy words turn around and get messy
Placing Vaseline on dry throats speaking levy
Lips on skateboards sniffing the ground for reality’s ride
Electrifying plots against blurry words with
no physical basic thoughts thinking dialogue cravings
Untidy tiding plots buried in baritones hurried to hire imaginary thoughts
With no mercy things get messy
Stainless inks get messy
Poetry comes in speed bumps
Never the less poetry comes in speeds
Bumping speed bumps
Bump all slumps
Bluffing word bumps
Bump all stunts
Puff them hard till words provoke gumboot sounds
Bump all ink pumps and thirsty thumbs
Speed bump conclusions jumping resolutions around
words spoken in gibberish gigabytes per seconds smelling leverage
Amplifying televised revolution on repetition far from average
Paralyze those walking eyes
Bumping rhythms
Dusty broken chests serving overcrowded greeting lines
On solo mode
Flirtalicious solo chaotic modes
Bumb connections around chairs warmed up by bums
Speaking the same womb and rhythms
Brothers and sisters chained up in pairs and bums
enslaved by messy word poetry speed-bumbs
Words get messy with no mercy on lip bumps
Those messy words camp behind bushy brains
Rail track through lips with no vibrating mercy veins
Affiliate with true bones
Crossbones carrying history's forgotten side bums
Instrumental bones
Stinking hip hop bums speed flossing word stunts
Words dig up chaos with no mercy
Armed with no rounds
Pounds stolen before two rounds
Sheriffs secretly scared of their own uniform sounds
Shortlisted words saving society's bums
Words are just messy and profound
a.s.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
oh i'm pretty sure on the Islamic
term: denier,
it's a prefix,
dis-,
dis- -ease:
which implies negation...
the negation of ease...
but i'm not interested in this...
nope...
i know what Islam
says about the, deniers,
the non-affiliate...
what, does, Islam,
call, the wavering hearts?
you heard me.
the doubters,
i do know what a prefix intends...
but do you?
camel jockey...
really?
what do you call a wandering heart?
a Shiite?!
******* Sunni ****
no; no what?!
what do, you, call,
doubters, in the Islamic faith?
i didn't, say, deniers,
i said, doubters....
what do you call, a doubter,
within, the confines,
of the, Islamic, faith?!
am i talking Hindi to you?
you're looking pretty *******
stupid to me, "auto-"suggesting,
that i expect an Arabic reply...
what, do you, call,
a doubter, of, Islam?
i know what a denier is...
what, do, you, call,
someone, who, doubts,
the faith, of, Islam?!
i'm simply asking...
tell me, the difference...
between someone
who doubts...
and someone,
who denies...
tell me...
what, is, the, difference...
oh **** me... and when i woke up,
people implied that all the people
were literate... like **** they were!
like a bunch of industrially
farmed pigs,
educated in the "arithmetic"
of the onomatopoeia of... OINK
i'm crazy enough, crazy plenty...
i fall asleep to
slayer's... raining blood...
give me a ******* tank
and i'm all stampede...
where?
where's where?!
if the "where" is nowhere
other than death?!
the "there" is, there!
and the "there"?!
is some-where...
you don't want to be,
here to fathom!
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 9:06 PM UTC
[Bilex]
Giovanni on the edge of the window,
have a bad fall; Glory for children; Most violence
is from the love of reading in the Senate;
This is the best partner. you are the one who came
to help; guard, I did not want to burn with joy;
This is my first time around the world and Sports -
Sky Box and Albatross Compatibility,
cups of wine and cognac. or; Radio Wedding
But the wedding. Some of my assignments. All words
Why it is not. and find out how; Read a book on
Wall Street where you can buy a product. other
Restart the application, restart it, in addition.
The radio will be here. take care of it.
And the best way to do that is to Rest. More points
on my own. It is a. Memorial 1, like John Rose;
Perhaps Pavol was the author of radio waves. radio
Wedding Vincebus Water. if you are forbidden
I do not think why - love. I do not know thousands
of people; But it's ready for the winter
temperature of the whole affiliate business
bridge. Alcohol and cups in boxes. or; wedding
ceremony on the radio; Is that so
It seems like it's time for seniors.
If the caretakers have eyes, you will know
all the words. Where education is; New Wall Street
Dutch artist - rich fish - the best house;
even a black ball. Which is the best way
to get more and more of the other
does not. own materials - and Eli stepped
out of the radio. Where iam I n one place about myself?
color; Let's look in the mirror
left, 4 g 2; Female artist and John Rose
in a dark spot in England,
San Pablo-Fb. With radio waves. Radio.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC
An anxious amortal
archnemesis
affectionately
allowing an amoral
animosity
achieve an attitudal
agressive and aversion against
any and all
annoying,
aggravating,
afflicting,
and almost annihilating
alliterations,
although all
aforementioned actions
are absolutely
artificial.
An amiable
abomination
and architectural abuse
at an alphabet achieved
after aesthetically
arranging ample
arbitrary
alternatives alone,
amounting an acclamation.
An affinity at
awkward avante-garde arts
arising at
an astronomical acceleration,
aside an archaic
argumentum ad
antiquitatem argument
awfully appraising
an atheistic and agnostic
apparition,
anthrophomorphically
alive and apparently
alright after asphyxiation,
alluding an astral authority
absolving accusations
and all allegations.
An advantageously
astute and adroit assassin
always actively
acting and assaulting
alone, ain't assisted
anyhow,
already
antiquating auxillaries
altogether.
An alliteratious afterfocus:
Aborting all anticipations.
Anticipating affirmative antagonizations.
All are alright.
Already airtight.
Adios, amigos.
Author: anonymous,
an acorn-afflicted,
assassinatrix affiliate.
attributed as Agent Argent.
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC
Abandon definitions.
They are abbreviations of something abstract, abundant alive.
I am an admirer, an adaptation
an affiliate of things
antique and alien,
And who are you?
An anthology of secrets
An aggregate of emotion.
We are an allegory of nothing and all things
An affinity for the absurd
An animosity for analysis.
Mar 27, 2022
Mar 27, 2022 at 3:19 AM UTC
To correctly correlate,
The facts that we assimilate,
Requires all the minds that calculate,
The truths which we deliberate.
Now, the ones that we affiliate,
With the ideas that we innovate,
Really just appropriate,
The profits we facilitate.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 4:12 AM UTC
Cognitive dissonance just might
get best of you, and even you,
should conciousness come to light
Turmoil which hypocracies own
bring awakenings, new vision,
within you, an ahem and a groan
Things once variably disliked
come to watery confluence,
streams reconciled and hiked
Win over themes to conciliate
March Hare, a ***** rabbit
Badmouth him not, you do affiliate
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
I think that’s the painful part,
remembering our start.
The innocence,
the uncontained bliss,
it’s such a contrast to now
and I’m still stuck wondering how.
How that chapter of my life is closed,
how is it that we’ve become opposed?
I think I believed we were indestructible,
that our relationship wasn’t corruptible.
It hurts most when I think about it, about us
and all the things we said in unshakeable trust.
Those words float now,
detached, but unforgettable somehow.
I keep asking, why?
For when we were together we aimed for the sky.
Here in the now, it’s much different.
I no longer have the ability to call you up in an instant.
We’ve grown apart,
strayed so much from our start.
We’ve grown up, but part of me is still fighting for what we had
and I know I need to stop because I laugh, but the disconnect makes me sad.
I can’t say I want to forget you, forget us
because you were somebody who had my trust
but things have changed
and we’ve become estranged.
I wish it were different, I don’t think you understand how much
but somehow I’ve benefited, for now I’m my own crutch.
So the goodbye is bittersweet.
I know a part of me, in some aspect, will always be incomplete
for a bond there was severed,
but I do wish you luck with your future endeavors.
I harbor no ill will,
and we’ll meet again on some rainy day, accepting a passing fill.
But we’ll know the truth,
we’ll share a smile that holds a million memories from our youth
and that’s what I’ll come to appreciate,
I’ll carry those wonderful memories even if we don’t affiliate.
We grow up, we change
the future isn’t something we can arrange.
We can only realize our choices,
and follow through on this voyage.
It’s messy, and beautiful, and can hurt like hell
but on the bad things we can’t dwell.
So the memories I’ll keep,
locked away, just for the rainy day when I see you on the street.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
With being really appropriate aptitude
She apprehend and never appraise
For she have appropriate ambition along us
She's got the ability and a tender to care
She can't rest knowing there's nothing filled our belly
However he rests, she can't rest assured knowing we starving
Her heart never fascinate her rest
Unlike him, he rest and never admire her adore on us
No father got affection counterpart her
The affliction she expirienced during birth never heal till death
No heart sustain such afflict, only her does
Even when we fault and fail her,
she bears the strength and effort to forgive and care for long
She prepares meal even when she got agony
Really, a mother's breast has got no sore
In her heart, love is exertion
But she never let go, she arouse and ply
She's dying to keep food on the table
It's affable, when usually it afflicts the affinity
But she never let go, she arouse and ply
She apprehend and never appraise
She affiliate with affectionate
And keep the spirit, arouse and ply
Just the tender of caring, arouse and ply
arouse and ply
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
Forever linked by chains of love, your promise was the key.
Our bond was that of fabled myths, together we were free.
Removed from claims that love could fade, so sure were we in hope.
Escape from life to dreams that formed like knots along a rope.
Verbatim, tell me just once more what long ago you swore.
Each transient thought that passes through now makes me miss you more.
Respite always fails to come, how ravaged can one stand?
And how can I succumb to life without our tethered band?
No longer does hope cast a gleam toward which I shall seek.
Deterrant loss does force away all happiness; I'm weak.
Affiliate me just once more with what you tore from me.
Lessen burdens whose vast weight chokes off the air to breathe.
Why can't you still retain the heart that I had fallen for?
As then my shattered semblance of a soul could look for more.
You still reserve a place within, despite the pain you caused.
Sure happiness did turn around, my hope-filled life, you paused.
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 7:01 AM UTC
I rest on this hill with my mind in a swirl
but my body stayed perfectly still
I picture your face and I picture your eyes
and I tell you they shine just like diamonds
I remain on the edge, the exterior of life
peering inward to assure my survival
I surmise that your voice with it's deep undertones
brings a reflex of craving a kind of collision
I try, yeah, I try to erase from my mind
all these pieces of you, you're smiling
but me, I'm not no I wish I could stop
cause these tears yeah they feel just like crying
you would not understand that this pain I am in
It's not here, yet I still feel like dying
I dig myself into the roots of everything
It's dark down here, but I still sing
about a time where maybe someday
I will be dauntless, daring with a smile of joy
I can't really decide if it's hate that's defined me
or a deep rooted longing
I wish I had known when we'd met
how I'd grow to count on you
for all the bits of my happiness
as for now, lying face down on my hill
I've come to affiliate you with sadness
It's 6 oclock, I didn't sleep today
viewing the sunrise, I've never felt this way
and I unscrew my cancer, cause I think I need it
It never gets better, so I continue to feed it
I try, yeah, I try to erase from my mind
all theses pieces of you, you're smiling
you don't know what it's lie
to wake up filled up with woe
cause you hate every inch of your body
this instant in time, feeling fatally ill
I'll never be good enough, but I'm trying
metal on skin
bottle to lips
liquid to tongue
finger to throat
aspirin to stomach
crying
smiling
This pain is not here, this pain, it's not here
Yet I still feel, yeah I still feel like dying
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
large hearts swell, with brown
eyes full of love; two sets fought,
leave earth far too soon.
~ ~ ~
sunday night, in fruitland township, michigan, two pit bulls were found lying dead on the side of the road near an elementary school. a man by the name of joe weaver found the dogs and covered their bodies so that children wouldn’t see them on their way to school. the link leads to his facebook page — which is open to the public — where he has been keeping everyone up to date about the dogs. when he found them last night, there were no footprints in the snow, suggesting that the dogs were most likely thrown out of a car and left to die, if they weren’t dead already. we believe the dogs may have been used to fight, and they were underfed.
my mother contacted mlive, WZZM 13 (the grand rapids affiliate of ABC news), pound buddies, and woodTV 8. two of her friends who don’t even live in michigan contacted muskegon police, giving anonymous info about the incident. over the course of the night and early this morning, this story has popped up on WZZM13, and has been mentioned on local animal rescue facebook pages. a news caster even posted on a facebook page that this case is currently undergoing investigation.
i want this to get spread around in hopes that whoever did this can be caught, and we can get some justice for these poor babies. no animal deserves this treatment. today, after joe weaver found them he decided to name them “moody” and “george”, after the military base he served at. he is hoping to get the bodies back after autopsy, so he can give them a respectful burial.
please, please, if you can, reblog this and spread it around. even if you don’t live in west michigan, or michigan at all, please get the word out so we can find whoever is responsible. if social media is good for anything, despite all its toxicity, it’s stuff like this.
(you can reblog the post here: http://blackcr0wking.tumblr.com/post/77718225228/if-everyone-could-please-spread-this-around-i )
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
i believe religion to be none other than a wicked curse.
i cannot bear the thought to affiliate with an organized group of people who believe in a specific set of ideas which occurred in the past.
the reason behind my logic associates with the basic perception-
there is more than one belief- so which is true?
i ask this because only one can logically be true.
catholic, christian, methodist, lutheran, mormon, buddhist, hindu, etc.
i have constructed in my mind the reasonable ideology that the truth will never be fully discovered. i may try to search for answers, but in the end, i know nothing can ever be factually explained.
in conclusion, i have chosen to be me.
if this banishes me to hell, so be it.
if this sends me to heaven, so be it.
i'm a realist and i have faith- but i will never indulge fully into one religion that "believes" they are right because i will always ask myself- "are they?".
religion is a curse that i wish to avoid in life.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
People want me to explain my reasoning for having a cynical view of life, I don't need to, it's my life, it's my truths to believe in. You got your lie's that you say is truth same as me, life is a mystery that has no meaning. Hate is just a product of eating a apple off some tree that shouldn't have been there. Yes I know free will and all, that's all great and all, but I hate the pain I feel when I go down the road of sin. Why do I keep going in circles, every step forward is three steps back, feel like a stupid mistake; nothing more demeaning. What is right, what is wrong, who determines that, am I the only one that thinks that this society is whack. I stray from all of that, separating myself from fake rap, because I have decided not affiliate with that crap.Slipping through the cracks, trying so hard to keep breathing, because I want to make a change but every time i try it feels like i'm stepping on tacks. Belief is our only hope, that's so depressing, what is the lesson that need's addressing, what to do when it's my turn to go to bat. Life is a journey, the world is a disease, we live in a false reality, but what is reality? How did we become so water-downed, how did we become so uncultured when it comes to not offending others. We just forgot how to say how we feel, and when we do say what's on our mind, it's determined as savagery. Closing our shutters to emotions, trapped in our caskets, we are dead that's why the amount of people committing suicide is sky rocketing in the numbers.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
to you,
i know you are sick and i know you are dying.
i know it is scary but i do not want you to be scared.
i know this through my psychiatrist, who told me a couple of weeks ago, i do not know the date but i know it was a tuesday.
in telling me, the words felt like splinters, slowly piercing their way into the walls of my heart.
that tuesday was not just a day of the week. it felt like no one is living it but me, and, that somehow the day was mine and no longer belonged to anyone else. it wasn't a day of the week. it was a day that belonged to me.
my heart was throbbing as the splinters sank deeper, some more painful than others. i allowed myself to feel like that. i let myself hurt and be sad and feel, because you taught me that feelings are a beautiful thing and must be felt and must be acknowledged.
you helped me to learn their importance. you showed me how to take my anxiety and panic and turn it into an emotion that just needed to be noticed and felt, and to acknowledge its presence, and to treat that presence calmly and peacefully. to tell the panic and anxiety it was okay.
when they were okay, i was okay.
that tuesday i did the same thing to my pain. but i realised this was not the way i wanted to grieve you.
you are not my anxiety nor my panic. i could not tend toward the habit i have for processing negativity. i could not affiliate your positivity and wonderfulness with all the negative ******** that goes on inside my head, because you are love and solace. you are support and comfort.
i have since turned the splinters into seeds that will forever grow within and around my heart, with the piercings in its wall giving them the space to do so.
i did not know i could turn such pain into such beauty, but it seems as though i can. thank you for helping me to get here.
i know a considerable length of time has passed since i last saw and spoke to you, but i think you proud of me.
i want you to know that i am strong and i am proud of the person i am today. you have been a ray of hope in the sunlight that has allowed my garden to grow, much like the many lives of others you have touched.
i know that the purpose of therapy is not to find a solution or an answer to the problems we encounter, but to give the space in which we can learn and help come to the realisation that we, ourselves, want to find these solutions. it is where we learn to know we are enough. and not through others telling us we are, but us. we learn to know that.
it is not the therapists that make us better. they are more important than that because they help make us want to be better.
and that is what you give, and it is beautiful.
the seeds are planted in my heart, where you will bloom and blossom in the garden of my soul.
from the very depths of my heart,
i wish you all the strength and love you have given me.
from, me
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC