"affiliated" poems
Intimacy is not measured
by how passionate you kiss her, or
by how loud you say you love her, or
by how your hands fit hers perfectly, or
by how many bouquets you bring for her
Intimacy is when
your souls intertwined one another
that even silence,
doesn't make her feel anxiety
Intimacy is when
your thoughts connect to each other
that even before you speak,
she already knows
And if you are lucky enough,
that connection will last a lifetime
that no measure of time or space
could come between two affiliated souls
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC
**The allure of everything bad
The allure of vices that nullify circumstances which make living seem sad
The 'Hollywood' cigarette, the hard liquor... ******* crystal ****
All very romanticized but in reality, isn't that really just a self-induced slow death?
We don't talk about it, until we watch from the sidelines
If only for a second
When partaking one repeats quotes like 'it is what it is'
'I am not a quitter'
You've built up a tolerance for one, so you beckon
The bartender to pour you a second
Social trend like a hot topic on twitter
So now you want more
You ignorantly jab the needle inside you like you don't know what your signing up for
In a sense you don't, for you choose not to
Addiction entraps... but who?
Not you
And the moment you decide to go cold turkey
It appears more enticing in another movie, or in the hands of a fellow druggie
Impossible to reject
Relapse... rubber band effect
Yet even he that doesn't use gets a little curious
One day the stress becomes too much to handle, he's peeved
He's furious
He's heard of pills sold over the counter, and also of those available from dusty cobwebbed shelves
By dealers with hollowed out eyes, ghosts of their former selves
In an alternate reality
Where 'it's all good'
It's all about finding solace in one happy, high family... 'It's all hood'
A distorted image of zoned out smiling faces
Floating around in temporary elation
These vices have comforted and haunted many, way before our so called 'X-rated generation'
The druggie, the alcoholic or the *** addict you see... could be your's or someone else's dad
Or it could very well be you or me
Seduced by the allure of everything bad
I write this expecting it to be misunderstood by many...
For a judgement between bad and good
I myself could be affiliated to one of these vices... or many
Someone reading this may have already renamed it 'The allure of everything good'.**
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 4:01 AM UTC
The distance ever so touchable
Yet you're still far afield
The glimmering glitter in your blissful
Translucent almond irises
Waiting to deviate from them
Yet they have imprinted themselves
Now affiliated with my heart
Seeing your lips brimming brightly
Rejuvenating your flawless visage
Embodying my love
Not even half your beauty
Inwardly made you mine
Realistically destined for another
Drastic jaundiced waves
Crashing the shores of heartbreak
Sentiments
Thus the eminent work of
Patience
Silence
Benevolence
Enshrouds my blooming admiration
For you
Unfastening my feigned ethos
For you
I comprehend the significance of dignity and family
But my love
Ceaseless and eternal
But my love
Yours only
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC
I came to the Relazation,
*I don't give a ****
Only when I'm
high as **** off some
Man made ether- Now, etherized
it's easier to comprehend the demensions that led to my mental demise.
Yet and still.
*I don't give a ****
Numb.
No need for the clenching of hearts or
worry some eyes-
This is a different "Numb".
Confusing your senses to where you
Hear color,
Taste sound
See beauty in all belonging to God
An feel only with your heart-
I'm riding on cloud 9 -
Yea, high...
Surfacing on a pen that's barely scratching
The surface of my potency.
My being is being caressed by night fall,
Stillness finds space to
fit and slip down shoulders
once burdened with all
but a dream.
Reality never touched me here
So it's easy to imitate a crescent
for my lips main wear.
Corners peaked
Gracing cheekbones once hidden
Now amplified by rose colored bliss.
I wish I could stay here -
Live within my imagination
Because in this realm-
Creativity added to a heart of gold
Not affiliated with currency
Is riches.
Unfortunately,
I can't stay trapped in this... dream-
Because like that 14 year old school boy
My imagination too,
has a curfew.
Only is at 8 a.m.
When the alarm sounds for me to mask my desires
In a blue collar-
To work the "grave yard shift"-
For a dreamer.
Hmm...
I guess my stress will greet your relief again at 5.
Or if I can't wait to embrace that comforted race-
I may have to show face on my next lunch break.
- Danielle . A. Watson
✌
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
By accepting the terms of this agreement, you represent and warrant that you have the capacity to love.
Any similarity to a previous love is circumstantial; this love is not affiliated with other loves.
We assume no responsibility for for the shortcomings of prior loves;
we do, however, assume all responsibility for any loss, error, or communication failure incurred while in possession of this love.
It is, after all, love.
Love is available as is; no specific results are promised.
If you are at all unhappy, you are encouraged to return love.
If you find love to be damaged or defective, well, it's love.
Slight imperfections are to be expected, and add to the character of love.
Love may occasionally send you poems, letters, or declarations of its continuance. If you wish to opt out of this correspondence, you may cancel your account at any time.
The service may be temporarily unavailable from time to time; this may be due to maintenance, or periods of reflection. It in no way implies or forecasts termination of love, unless specifically stated so.
By accepting this agreement, you agree not to abuse love by acting in a manner inconsistent with the provisions listed above.
(please say yes)
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
Monkeys staring at the eyeballs in our heads
The forced rope ties tighter and pops out the vein
The process takes a moment but no more than a feather being blown
Sun beams now highlight the velvet hour.
Sand castles keep the sand man guarded and safe
In return, we have another day swallowed by the unaccomplished.
Spirited with a medical remedy
Lovers say a happy goodnight to the days ahead.
String haired figurines on the walls form the decor in this doll house
The rooms sit back to back but remain mostly vacant.
She dances around the room and tries on the attire
Forming the platform for our intimate silent exchange.
The chair pulls down and gravity makes its move
Maps form plans to be affiliated with a higher member
But with refusal, we can sit and add wood to an internal stove
Write stories noticed by no-one living in elegant designed routine.
They say its madness that gets you in the end.
I dont think I agree!
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
It was most boastful of me to assume that I could be the one to fill your cup
to assume that no other flower could fulfill you in the same manner
who am I to assume that we don't look just as lovely in a vase
and who are you to compare a rose to a carnation?
one whose grace is affiliated with beauty itself
and another that bumbles clumsily along like that of a lost bee
in every flower pressed,
in every poem composed
I seem to grow more tired of describing this ephemeral love
I continue to saudade in pursuit of moiety
leaving myself in a state of perpetual hireath
but in full honesty, I don't mind you switching me out for rose here and then
though I can't help but ponder
if she holds the same warmth in your arms
as one does in mine
and as to whether or not I will always be a stand-in for the next lovely rose to come
-a blissfully ignorant stand-in, a carnation
Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 2:22 PM UTC
Mention this word
and a picture of white skin
and glowing red eyes
will be the first thing
that my mind creates.
My brain,
a cheap conjurer of tricks,
is closely affiliated with that adjective
maniac, madman, mayhem
insane
What's in a name
as
p
s
y
c
h
o
is whispered in the chilly November wind?
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 7:45 PM UTC
Having borne witness to the attachment of wires around lunar geographical parameters, I am curious about the voltage limits of electric chicken.
In its southern-fried condition, I now draw your attention to celebratory flutterings around the Maypole whilst masticating upon ancient crop circles.
Apollo may be affiliated with Grecian mythological ancestry, but I have found harmony within the branches of dendrology.
As the seas of our sovereign forefathers cry aloud from palaeolithic runways, a multitude of timeless deities cluck amidst the hay of eclectic Kentucky.
It is only one minute to midnight.
We must depart now.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
Tell me when you're coming home again,
Do you think about me now or then?
Please tell me you think about me now, not then.
Come home so we can be friends again.
I met this girl ‘til I was 6 years old,
What I loved about her that she had so much soul,
She said excuse me lil homie,
I know you don’t know me
my name is Iguala, and I like to grow trees,
and from that point I never forgot her at all
Guerrillas came to town, and we hid from them all
brothers like to act tough, but she knows they're soft
We used to mess with tourist and towed them off
When I grew up she showed me how to go downtown
In the nighttime her face lit up,
so astounding,
I told her there will be a place in my heart where she’ll always be
She never messed with men because they always leave.
She said, “It feels like they stomped, and rode on me”
They knew I was cartel affiliated, so they got up and told on me
Maybe that's why last month she got so cold on me.
She said, “Litos, keep your dreams shiny and gold for me.”
Tell me when you're coming home again,
Do you think about me now or then?
Please tell me you think about me now, not then.
Come home so we can be friends again.
If you really cared about her
You would of never left her to follow your dreams
Sometimes I still talk to her
But when I talk to her
It always seems that she wants to talk about me
She said, “You left your friends, and they are just like you
they also have dream, and wanna succeed like you,
But they ain't you”
and I just got through
thinking about life,
this Litos is new
People always tell me that leaving her was wrong
I guess you never know what you got ‘til its gone.
“God put you here for a reason” and I can’t go back home
And guess when I heard that, when I was back home.
Every little talk I’m representing you, making your proud,
Reach for the Gods you land on the clouds
jump in the lake, wave your body around
If you don’t know by now
I’m talking about my Mexican Town!!!
Tell me when you're coming home again,
Do you think about me now or then?
Please tell me you think about me now, not then.
Come home so we can be friends again.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
i've always had a peculiar affair with history
history is a woman draped in red silk
with ***** eyes and sharpened claws
carefully picking out the hearts to break
and stories to keep
one day i'll arrive in her velvet palms
until then i am but another spectator
aligning myself with what has come to pass
i felt so deeply for the lost souls
souls history deemed unworthy to chronicle
i often wonder about the stories of fossils
of what love laid in the bones below me
of the life shared in worn out alleyways
i often remember all the sadness
the war that plagued the world around me
the death of kings the rise of nations
being affiliated with history is one way to come to it
to sympathize with all her victims
to love so much you love even what is done
the fall of rome broke my heart
for if an empire could fall
how much more i
to remember so much even what you never knew
i feared the flood that carried noah
for if all those quiet beings never reached that ark
who was to say i would've as well
i weeped for the library of alexandria
and all the parts of history left astray
for if that much life could burn
i am already ash
i find it hard to let bygones be bygones
when i am forever hanging on history's clavicles
somehow reaching for her and never quite making it
as i am a lost soul ripe and wary of her place
in a muse as big as history's heart
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
It’s not always a relationship that makes you feel empty and sad sometimes it’s life that hits you hard and makes you realize that YOU ARE NOT DOING ENOUGH // not enough to make your small circle happy // not enough to pack a bag and roam freely // not enough to order a stacker // not enough to make ppl affiliated to you happy // not enough to smile from heart // not enough to waking up to a thought that everything is fine // not enough to make your heart feel that you did good // not enough to be able to fix everything // I feel I’m losing this all slowly // the way you talk, the gap between your words kills me every time just hold on please I promise I will fix this, I have to fix this to make every thing enough and make you happy for real ♥️ I’m trying to be strong and it’s hurting me more but I’ll be standing strong next to you and make you happy I promise.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
As a young Latino male,
I am looked down
as a gang member,
even when I have no
gang colors on me-
but wait, to them,
my skin is the only
color they need
to categorize me
as an illegal immigrant
that just had crossed
the border, and is affiliated
in a gang.
And if sticking up
for my people,
for my blood
categorizes me
as a "gang member"
then I do not know
what to tell you.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
mate, you're faking it,
you're no white-knight
in shining armour,
forget it, you ain't
what you're singing about,
mate,
forget it, hashtag it,
when you turn 50
you'll end up
filming a *****
with some eastern european
peasant-girl...
cheap-exploitative exotica,
just before you dip your ****
in Brazil;
ooh.... or do you just mean oh?
whatever mate,
i couldn't really care to mind;
the ***** ain't my mother,
well, we're well affiliated
with treating dogs better than humans,
so where's the argument?
in Trinidad & Tobago or
the Ivory Coast? tell me! tell me, *****
for a worthwhile cuppa!
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
Hard Topics more or less Essential?
To speak your mind raise your voice
Your choice
Life fundamentals which are potentially not fun to mention or list them in a Corrupt System
That is Systematically
Problematic
Absurd to merge these choice words
with opposing verbs
To please the Masses
Seeing how The Watchers watch
and observe from an Orbital distance
For they have their Watchmen and henchmen but not to be confused with
Jehovah's true or 2 witness
For the rings of Saturn have
dangerous curves
These here I recognize as anti-Christ like
or anti-Christian affiliated or anything
remotely anti-Christ or anti-
Christian
Like a one world Religion
I'm talking NWO false prophetic enlisted
Tricksters mixed in with vicious
Political figures
No figment of my imagination
hearsay or a conspiracy with a twist
I'm just down for exposing
Who's Who
Call me a Conspiracist
with a list
No.. better yet
I'm more like a Realist
with a real list
And no I'm not Heaven sent
or Hell bent on the descension of
your opinions
Because I have my own Ascension
to ascend to
With other worldly entities from other
Dimensions against me
Who hate me for being Christ affiliated
and Christ opinionated
With a whole unholy Nation sanctioned
to alienate me with more hatred?
Big Mistake
For I'll just debate it as being Under-estimated
And hold true to the Essentials
of Life fundamentals
Unabated
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 2:25 PM UTC
I heard that dreams were illegal
So i find that so many people,
Escape to an alternate reality
Hoping that one day,
It becomes there reality.
I heard that dreams were illegal
So I cant hope to see you
A life sentence is the right sentence
Because I'm dreaming to be with you
Contractions and convictions
Feeding at the criminal inside of me
Because I can't fight this distance .
I heard that dreams were illegal
So these sirens are at my feet
Red and Blue lights are all I see
Tho, I'm running to see you
I heard that dreams are illegal
But I'd stand in front of the judge
If the crime is to lay with you
What could I possibly say or do
As these thoughts run wild & recklessly ,
I heard that dreams were illegal ,
Time has passed wonderment of being with you
Is something I can no longer endure ,
The complexity has my mind racing
Heart beating faster each second of every minute ,
I heard that dreams were illegal,
Facts will lay were they may ,
I'm around but i can't come your way ,
Only time has been patientI've been patient with time ,
Demented as my behavior becomes more & more irrational ,
Saunteredly moving the sky becomes gray ,
I paint your face wherever my eyes lay ,
My propitate ways deny what is not pleasing to me
I heard that dreams were illegal
So that view of sunshine you see
Is affiliated with doing time
It is less than freedom
But more then slavery
So let us progress into the abyss
So when they finally disclose
The recipe for happiness
We'll know that we are free
I heard that dreams were illegal
So I hope that what I see
Is really just my reality
Tho my high hopes
Sink low when I realize
Im Dreaming,
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
microscopic electrical currents internally flowing throughout computers projecting bright content from vast networks every time your keystrokes are typed into a search bar for desired website preferences to bring instant fulfillment from one of billions of desired search engine preferences that are interconnected to a universal computing satellite affiliated with the appellation known as the internet.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
the initial purport
this literary effort delivered atchew
to reed constitutes hazmat tocks sin
within White House blew
per, viz thee president be
getting a Hollywood love story
with "Stormy Williams" despite brew
haha murmur, now dapper Don in deep doo doo
thus, this garrulous married pro LIX prone papa flew
off (like a bat out of hell)
to his Macbook Pro laptop presenting myself
implicating Trump as po' faux guise Mister McGoo
affiliated, confused, and explained
being on par with Winnie the Pooh
especially stuck right tub bear arms in grr...
Rabbit's House, now he doth stew
nsync, nonetheless this path a logical
rhyme stir on the straight and true
composeing grist sill for ye to view
now, nar hating, hit ting
private links provide attention turned toward
two thousand twenty presidential election campaign
no Iron nee, anno putter opportunity,
how he diplomatically strived, and nearly scored
to boast asthma, overt braggart, stalwart
asper ideal consistency of cement poured
affiliation, aggregation, and attestation moored
prevails ma (Jack booted - magical) lord
rolling back to Timbuktu progressive liberal
Democratic initiatives star Apprentice
sans ("NO LIES") being linkedin, he almost ignored
with voluble chattering class hud hoard
hobnobbing (with the likes of Missus Muir's ghost,
who resort to Matthew Scott's turf brand),
reconstituted, recycled, and repurposed, gourd
nonetheless Trumping protocol necessitates me bing bored
predictable feigned "FAKE" non accord.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC
Intrigued about cremation,
I sought GOOGLE to assuage curiosity
significant questions answered
clicking the following website
https://www.funeralwise.com/plan/
cremation/cremation-process/
though summarizing article
some oven death defying act,
yet summarization satisfactorily completed,
thus herewith briefly describes
kickstarting, mystifying, pulverizing...
tantalizing, yielding, enterprising, lasting,
yelping, holding, surviving dearly departed
1. deceased identified
2. official cremation authorized
affiliated with deceased
3. lifeless body prepared
4. medical devices removed
5. jewelry recovered
6. corpse secured
into burnable cremation receptacle
7. encased entity transferred
to retort i.e. cremation chamber
8. temperature range adjusted
between 1400 degrees -
1800 degrees Fahrenheit
9. 1.5 - 2 hours elapsed
10. magnet applied
residual metal removed
11. remains ground into ashes
12. once process completed
remains secured within urn
13. family representative entrusted
with ashes.
Burnt offerings distributed
ideally according to stated
wishes of beloved,
whose remembrance sustained
as tears expended
necessary to mourn
eventually sorrow lessened,
photographs visited
after crushing grief decreased.
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
Let me know If I make too much noise
Trying to appeal like the modern Noyes
I can be Batman, he can be my Alfred
Washing out all the dread
One by one
My work is never done
Heaven knows why I measure my toise
Thinking I landed a Croise
But instead it looks like a kindergarten project
These lines I reflect
Are meant to create a sect
That disannuls the usual meaning of the word
I'm not dishing out a gird
I'm splitting the morally absurd
Into all the fragments I want
Labeling none
I can relate to revolving doors
Because they never stop
They never drop
The momentum
World filled with white
Commonly labeling knight
Spent so many nights trying to get it right
So many Nebulas saw me as a light
Made me think a little more open
Ready to bring the heat like Copan
Commonly called Peter Pan
Just got used to it all
I come back when I fall
The lone exception
Their biggest pushed deception
Is that the tale never happened
Till I was given the time slot
Ninety ninety seven
Praying that I'be been blessed by the Tree Of Heaven
Would be endorsed by Seventh Heaven
Can't be affiliated with the fake father
I know this is quite a fother
But I got to bring this to a poise
Blue, teal, turquoise
I feel my own noise
I chose to be the Spiro Disco Ball
A constituted mystery
I'm my own consistory
Flashy, want to be loved by all
I might not make that goal at all
But I'll continue to turn
The life of the party
I hope this delivery is never tardy
Give up, I hardly
I'll turn until there's no meaning and purpose left.
When will that be?
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
It always seems that the saddest poems,
get the least likes.
As though no one wants to be affiliated
with you when you're in a position
where you want to die.
Instead of giving you a "like"
they avoid it.
Knowing they relate to it,
they isolate you.
And once you are gone,
they are the ones that will remember you.
And yet that poem will be hidden in the "personal journal" files,
so their secrets are not uncovered.
Their murders never put under trial,
and the perpetrators,
never convicted.
This is a happy state,
and it's called,
DENIAL.
Nov 28, 2020
Nov 28, 2020 at 3:16 AM UTC
a developed country is not a place where the poor have cars. it’s where the rich use public transport - paraphrased from enrique penalosa
it's also a place where the rich buy a beer bavaria
and a beer san migeul (bottled) at less than
the asked price of sigma £2.25
and the man buying the beers feels rich because
of the lax pax, on the slack - is where
even a poor man can feed the feeling of wealth,
the cashier accepted his spare change
of £2.19 and the man was left fed
with a nonchalence worth feeding akin to travel
among the sardines of sweat to his abode of mammon feeding.
so enthroned upon a saddle of a horse
as to garrison politicians into
being in game worth merely as pawns;
there too the peacock and swan shed
their wings to attract the ladies less
for the cuneiform quill with fingerprin than
simply for admiration and a vanity cleopatra
staged against augustus' cold shrug of shoulder
in armour worthy of any man ably imitating;
then i the one barren in choir to
the year one prior, uno pre anno domini;
i too took to trust via a hunting dog's eye
the dog tamed and affiliated with being made
familiar with a homesickness of the woods among the boar;
i took domestication in his step:
be fed, sleep, entertain... entertain, sleep, be fed...
what a horrid existence being so abhorred from the original
escapade, in the river of nerves strained to impulse
a quasi-tsunami to breach the shore and become
a gargantuan hunger to eat the geography into a mapping
of a rewrite.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
This is partly because of a communications network called NEON (New Economy Organisers Network).
Neither affiliated to Labour nor Momentum,
this organisation has been working hard behind the scenes to train left-wing experts, community organisers and activists
in direct action peoples power
Corbyn’s anti-Semitism crisis and the proliferation of the extreme left factions proves one thing:
The old Stalinist gang is back in charge of Labour
Those people, whose lives were fundamentally shaped by a Labour government determined to keep them out of the UK because of the colour of their skin, might be surprised to hear the claims in recent weeks, from different quarters, that Labour always has been or was an anti-racist party.
This is a label people in Labour have long claimed. And to prove it, there are particular facts they point to. The introduction of the UK’s various Race Relations Acts all happened under Labour governments. The Stephen Lawrence inquiry was established in the early years of the Blair government – crucially, though, after years of campaigning by Lawrence’s family. And even though it was often met with a frosty reception, there is a rich tradition of anti-racist and anti-colonial organising within Labour;
A little over 10 years ago, New Labour politicians were describing children whose parents were seeking asylum as “swamping” UK schools, running a campaign that declared Labour as on “your side” and the Lib Dems as “on the side of failed asylum seekers”, treating people of colour as not belonging to the nation, defending colonialism and overseeing policies that made asylum seekers destitute. And then there was the post-New Labour “controls on immigration” mug under Ed Miliband.
If we allow people to misrepresent the past by erasing the racist politics that have caused pain, economic degradation and treated people as “other” because of their skin colour, religion, immigration status or “culture”, then we won’t see racism – including anti-immigration racism – as structurally embedded and systemic. These fraught histories are ones the left, within and outside the Labour party, can learn from. Declaring yourself something doesn’t mean you are that; it takes work.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 8:06 PM UTC
I will award one poet with $50 USD via moneygram, paypal, donation to charity of your choice, or any other safe and secure method.
make me
feel something
know something
try something
hate something
love something
accept something
discover something that i am missing
this is not affiliated with any website or organization, but just $50 of my money that I want to share(i have all i need)
i promise i will try not to be prejudiced in any way, and i ask that anyone enter, no matter education level or any other "levels"...the winner will be decided by what moves me, and will have nothing to do with styles, forms, rhyming, etc
i may ask a few to help me verify certain things and if you would like to help me with this big money contest just msg me here. I may decide on having more winners, but the 50 dollar top prize is for sure(barring i don't die)
You will also win my prestigious Future Poet Award(a piece of paper?) Even if you hate me, you can get my money! Anyone who enters is a winner and i will post poems on my FB poetry page(BIGTIME). Contest ends November !st and payout will be within 10 days after contest ends. This is for real! Don't miss out on MONEY.
no cheating!
Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 3:21 PM UTC