"allocation" poems
This generation is the selfie nation,
Taking pictures of the dying, digitization,
This generation is the generic nation,
Cancelling history and subjects, Salvation,
This generation is the death nation,
Being overweight is healthy, becoming purgation,
This generation is the stronger nation,
Deeming everything offensive, becoming manipulation,
This generation is the hateful nation,
Hating the own agnations,
This gerenation is the end nation,
Pushing and pushing, damnation,
This generation is the promoting nation,
Gender Swap, *** paedophilia, pushing all these, Arbitration.
This genernation is the activism nation,
Save the Earth, making change that still damages the Earth, ruination.
This generation is the we won't do this nation,
Won't go to war to fight for others, pure negation,
This generation is the nation,
The eldery generation regrets fighting for their foundation,
This generation is the Anti-Homosexuality nation,
That still disowns there child for there sexuaility, Affirmation,
This generation who is fighting LGBTQ Rights Nation,
Hating those who refuse to date the same *** hating religion, so **** condamnation.
This generation scream Black Lives Matter Nation,
Reducing Police Brutality, improving lot more crimes, congratulation,
This generation fighting for women right nation,
Taking away male rights, instead of alterations and collaborations.
This generation is the older nation,
Bullying, lies and caring nation, Allocation,
This generation is the end nation,
Death filtration of the world's creation.
This generation buid this nation,
They have to learn to live with the cermation.
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 10:11 AM UTC
The words that go unspoken actually make the most noise.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
As this world runs in cruelty and in greed,
Our eyes see the world perfect-blindly.
Those who have power stay unfair and unjust, indeed -
The stated laws were implemented tightly.
Power over humanity exists in today’s world.
We as powerless have no right to scrutinize, but to concur.
Their pledges remain twirled -
The hurdle stays in abundance with no cure.
It is in us where the grievous suffering is in store;
And we have none to succor them all.
The hunger and incurable malady strike humankind in any form.
It led to increased mortality, decreased economy, but who to call?
Whoever has power, our safety cannot be guaranteed –
They are the ones that makes our life at risk.
They stand as an impediment for our nation not to succeed.
Their fall is soon our victory – this is not in the pace-brisk.
It’s been a year, still no sign of good deed.
Half of the world is asleep –
Some shock for awakening their soul is what they need.
We have lost enough; at least we have ourselves to keep.
The string of our patience reached its limitation.
Rich people hoard too much and now most of us left deprived.
Who’ll lift marginalized Filipinos in our nation? –
Who'll give us fair allocation that is incumbent for us to survive?
Tedious journey might it seem.
Our souls’ little voices are still unheard.
What life this could be without our soaring dream? –
We shall move our mountains even gratification is deferred.
Now, the time is ours to stand as one with clenched hands,
It’s time for us to deplore and abhor their thoughts.
It’s time to listen in our souls' little voices to be heard at once.
And it’s time for us to break the darkness by our flaming oath.
- Aubergine Cher Bautista
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 11:59 PM UTC
Look at all those monkeys
Jumping in their cage.
Why don't they all go out to work
And earn a decent wage?
How can you say such silly things,
And you a son of mine?
Imagine monkeys travelling on
The Morden-Edgware line!
But what about the Pekinese!
They have an allocation.
'Don't travel during Peke hour',
It says on every station.
My Gosh, you're right, my clever boy,
I never thought of that!
And so they left the monkey house,
While an elephant raised his hat.
4k
allocation of supreme alliteration illustrates perpetual contemplation and concentration that dictates a maligned mastication of federal incarceration of elongated complementary probation leaving you cuffed and based on baseless accusations conducted in aboriginal abbreviations masked task force concluding a course of brevity conducted in coordination then coordinating and copulating condemnation for a homeostasis of thought bought scolded eroded and shot inefficacy perpetrating cultural holocaust irrelevance somersaults galactic static of mathematical bombastic smack addict glued shut in a craft attic floral resurrection gartered section of ****** selection she moves fluid through unaltered perfection of cosmic bypass past the point of extemporaneous infinitude reciprocating fortitude of sinews congregating fabricating visuals of vitality soldering axonal membranes on the cerebellum and cortex simulation of sensual vortex demented fusion more blessed I am that which stands to understand the incomprehensible unconsidered options of racial conflicts the screaming round of unaltered copper fiber severing life from the living only now can we debunk the years
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 9:01 AM UTC
before existentialism, and nietzsche in mind, philosophy was written
or spoken of accepting the socratic rigidity of words,
the rigidity of words known through
the socratic method of inquiry:
the simplest of questions imposed on
the meaning of words; e.g. what is virtue?
but with existentialism this old method
of inquiry, the poised posing bewilderment
lost its quality, in that the new method of
inquiry was given to stress not a method
of questioning but that of ambiguity,
even though this new method that simply
said the reverse of what is virtue as
the preservation of a narrative: "virtue" concedes
many variations exampled true, e.g. -
this dittoing going against - previously said /
as above - became staged against
a brick wall - since this method, the existential
method of brushing aside inquiry and entering
the realm of ambiguity was already present -
the pluralism of meaning found in certain words;
it isn't a question whether red or blue can
be ambiguous, this allocation of noun
and quality is all too pervasive - so when
an ambiguity is allowed to exercise its stressor
posit - the word in question is allocated
a verb orientation in its exercise of use and example,
further diluted by the quantity and lack of example,
and ascribed contorting
adjectivity due to the dilution of meaning: with lessened
recognition of sought out qualification to sentence
an enzymic perfection of: banker and philanthropist,
priest and maximilian kolbe, poetry and lack of envy.
even though these examples are idealistic,
they provide the obvious ambiguity already apparent,
hence the double ambiguity of opposites, ideal opposites.
in shorthand - if socrates were to come
upon reading existentialism - his questions
regarding the virtues would be bound to free floating
terms in the ditto bubbles of flimsiness of non-inquiry -
bewildered by the number of prompts to question,
there would be no necessary ambiguity to many other
terms of inactivity - such as the previously mentioned
red and blue, dog and glue, but too many, it would seem,
should a strict belief in categorising virtue as a noun
but not a verb be kept - for categorisation of such nature
only provides a linear cascade without due action
or cared for imitation - ending with the only chance of virtue
chanced and seen as an unvirtuous person
doing crossword puzzles in silence - and already
virtue's opposite is engaged in defending itself
and justifying its ills by first forcing many synonyms to
cover it in ambiguity, and asserting itself as an adjective
within a noun framework blunt: virtue v. unvirtuous
will only confiscate siamese phonetic mingling to ease the definition;
i guess that's how rhyming was born, the opposite
of alphabetical ordering: a, aardvark the violet's blue
****** a doughnut with you.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
basic arithmetic in terms of punctuation, otherwise? simply the arithmetic of punctuation: what does (,) equal? what does (.) equal? what does (:) equal? what does (-) equal? what does (;) equal? come on, quick! quick! give me a number!
to think, is to not narrate,
much of what is regarded as
"thinking", simply becomes as art
of narration
that is sofa-bound, i.e. so comfortable
that it feels it has no inclination
toward the use of hands as ever
being idle, it simply replaces
hands with a tongue...
hence: idle speech,
hence political speech;
so if the "devil" has work for idle hands,
then "god" has work for the idle zunge
(tongue)...
but most people don't think,
because their thinkling is solely about
narrating,
their day-to-day...
and i appreciate this custom,
in the cognitive realm...
i really do...
how many jokes ushered into
the void of one's silence, neither whisphers,
nor hummings, nor whistling...
wiser still, essentially unchanged...
but heidegger's aphorism no. 285
really bothers me...
the reader looking into the narrator
given the existentialist inverted commas
(iberian inverted questioning
¿ ? that's the first step toward
an iberian existentialism)
said the third person,
with third party sources, the middle man,
the second person, and then the reader
of the writer's original testimony?
if northern existentialism (french / german...
the english were too reactionary, and
too easily bored by the continental drift)
encompasses the tool that's " "
then the iberian tool has to be the inverted
question mark, i.e. ¿ ?,
sitting comfortably? no? how about a wheelchair...
let me just break your legs and your spine.
but aphorism 285: "worldview",
"grounding", "configuring"...
i don't understand this allocation of ambiguity,
and an italic stress on da-sein / da-sein...
aren't all the three descriptive elements /
adjectives the purposive sentiments for
originating the concept of dasein?
i had to counter with an iberian existential tool...
after all i said, 'he said', "we said"...
it's a third party medium
of supposed ambiguity...
if there's a santa claus (satan's clause),
then there's pontius pilate's clause,
found in the existential tool of double-ditto " "
or as the english like to say: inverted commas;
or the ritual: of washing your hands clean
from passing the judgement...
they're citation marks to be honest, come on,
let's be pompous, they donned 19th top-hats
at ascot's horse races! who's fooling who?
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 7:25 AM UTC
gnaw red your bone
in the aliform of dream
this
allocation of my
guts spreads lips
onto stained paint buckets
I
never meant for
us to be beautiful
adding
music
to every line
that came out
your mouth—
a moth-springing
butterfly
its
wings no longer
dusted but
dried and wasteful.
it was the
paradox of doubt
and
I cried through
painkiller night
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
When crypto fans approach us
And say “We’re on the same team”
Invite them to grasp our vision
And see if they share our dream
Say, “Great, now you’re joining us to…
Adopt seizure resistant money?
Boost personal power and accountability?
Separate money from state control and abuse?
Restore proper capital allocation through hard money?
Forsake the fiat fraud and cancel the Cantillon privilege?
Allow people to simply save and store value through time?
Cultivate new freedom for billions of people under tyranny?
Abolish the theft of our time and wealth through debasement?
Increase long-term work and vision in all areas due to stable money?
Abandon foolish agendas and wars made possible only by printing money for free?”
Then they can humbly join us
Bitcoin’s purpose in their mind
Or see they are “not on our team”
And sadly - get left behind
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 11:29 AM UTC
One must believe in something be he misanthrope or gambler
In tomorrows omnicience or the future proof of God
The penance in a drunk's decay sets self destruct's imposer
Wether speakerphone's on disconnect or cellphone's in the bog.
Conveyance of a threat to adherants of St Selfwise
Show athiest's are proof here, in belief of disbelief,
Haunted by the images painting painfull retribution
Picture sympathetic **** star's allocated hand relief.
A moments allocation of a syllogist abstraction
Shows perspective of the calibre we now reserve for Saints
A paradox regarded as autistic fascination
In a one act play of living disregarding all restraints.
Deliberately indicative of fraternal heat's expression
Notebook at the ready and deep frowning at the brow,
Question definition's collage of confusion's contribution
Do we sit it out pretending or just catch the late bus now?
Marshalg
13 February 2014
© 2014 Marshal Gebbie
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
Echoing in a room of memories
Struggling to understand themselves
Words stuck on a ruined tongue
Aiming to become anew
Benefits of a scam
Of a game
Of a plan
But the benefits of a failure?
That's one to undermine your proficiency
Not excluding the fact that your allocation of thoughts are all over the place
Varying off center
Unintended
But carried efficiently
Like the assumption of happiness
Of trust and honesty
Subtle hints that should not be ignored
Regardless of the fact that you're in another's door
And i'm highlighting the points that should have stood out
The warnings
The symbols
Screaming, get out.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Oh, Time, you are my mortal enemy.
Woe to those who wallow in your foul play.
Like a monarch ruling one’s sanity,
You dictate my every move night and day.
From your iron shackles release me now,
A slave to the drudgery of routine.
For when a youth to you I did not bow,
Coming of age entails pain unforeseen.
Family forsaken as work prevails.
Rest is absent amid hectic duties.
Allocation of your daily wage derails
Your subjects from life's priorities.
Perhaps when I’m senile I’ll smile.
But for now, I will mourn all the while.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
[A child of indeterminate sex--either a delicate-featured boy or a tomboy-ish girl--, 9 or 10 years old, enters the chamber where the United States Council of Artists is meeting.]
"Is this the United States Council of Artists?"
[The Chairman of the Council responds:] "Yes. Who are you?"
"That doesn't matter. Are all the high arts present? Poetry, Music, the Visual Arts?"
"Yes. . . . There are people from all the various arts here. . . ."
"The Hour of your Doom is upon you."
"What do you mean?"
"You've failed to create with feeling.
Nuclear angst no longer excuses you.
Moral uncertainty, the dissolution of society,
no longer excuses you.
The 'Death of God' no longer excuses you.
Human beings have not changed.
We are not the hollow men.
Great art
comes from the heart;
your superfluities will now depart.
"Painter! Isn't it true that the same day you started work on this [holding up a reproduction of the painting "Incongruities: White Lines, Pink Lines"] you visited a hardware store with a middle-aged clerk whose face was wonderfully sad and quizzical? That as you walked home the pattern of the sun shining through the trees onto the sidewalk was marvelously variegated?
"Composer! Tell me honestly [playing a cassette recording of "Duet in F-Minor for Flute and Woodblock"] that these rhythmless sounds move you. . . . It's made with the head, completely with the head.
"Poet! Isn't it true that you've never written any poems expressing your deepest feelings: your love of your older sister; the painful growing-apart of you and your wife leading up to your divorce; your hatred of the stuffy academics who denied you tenure; the passion you felt for that Australian girl on Corfu last summer. . . . Instead you've written these [holding up a book entitled Root Crops, No Metaphors and reading from it:]
translucent, magenta-veined root-tips
push, cell by cell, into humid grit;
dark green, dark-red-veined crowns
expand profligately sunward. . . .
"Great art
speaks to the heart;
your superfluities will now depart."
[Another Council member:] "Mr. Chairman, with all due respect to this --surprisingly eloquent-- young person, I suggest that we return to the business at hand which is" [consulting his agenda] "the allocation this fiscal year for haiku in South Dakota."
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 1:39 PM UTC
Maybe tomorrow
I'll admit that I was joking.
Comparatively walking forward.
Pretending I saw what I couldn't.
The rustling of leaves,
Allocation to how far the fall.
The optimism of smiles.
After all, I've know this whole time.
When & where.
Deliberately stealing glances.
The second, third, forth
Consciously known that you'd find me sooner or later.
My role through the renewal of perspective.
Maybe tomorrow you'll forget &
I'll joking walk up to you.
Smile and say "Tag, your it!"
Knowing that you've been it this whole time.
The rustle of leaves growing louder.
Having known that I revealed myself without a word
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 8:56 PM UTC
jesus came back in 1945 in egypt
with a shepherd
digging the scrolls up:
the nag hammadi library...
the jewish historian josephus wrote
about a false egyptian prophet
~2000 years ago,
dot dot dot...
well... dot dot dot;
counter argument?
in defiance the defence rests its case
with a semi-detached and a roast dinner
every sunday until death do us part.
sorted then!
*** change's a bonus on top of
that balancing act to keep glogotha relevant
in terms of impregnation above the interest
of bethlehem to orientate
east with 3 splinters aimed at gift:
take east and you're looking at a linear
two dimensional realm of preceding allocation...
preceding allocation of the mirage that's
a recurrent but nontheless a receding mark
of served colour...
**** we all missed the 2nd coming in 1945...
the holocaust got the historians clamouring
for the columbus prize - as that famous hip-replacement
for the jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
what if we had
just
one day
to
love
live
and give
something
back
to
this
world
in which
we
live
how would
you
spend
your
allocation
of
precious
hours
take
your
time
think
it
through
would
you be
spendthrift
miserly
or
provident
selfish
selfless
hope less
can do
devil may care
buyer beware
seize the day
rue the moment
sing and dance
weep and cry
accept the loss
bemoan the lost
savour the day
pack your house away
24 HOURS
even less
hours to live
be a blessing
and in turn be blessed
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
Excrement of the intangible
The iron ****** lung
The sharp inhalation - raspy reality
The thought that all is too much
The repressing of doubts in the hollow
The incommunication at the office
The freezing of the faculties
The desparate sigh two chairs away
The sensation of lost in a maze
The plaintive face of misunderstanding - and
The allocation of the assets
The incessant attempt at grubbing funds from already empty pockets
The sneer of the Tax Man
The ineffectual Cops and
The stern eyes of judgement
The remainder of all that was sacred
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 5:10 PM UTC
I think the longest allocation of time
Is that moment between when our eyes meet and when our lips meet
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
~~
Pictures of the past
Everyone's looking for
himself in
Folds of forehead,
Indeed, the ideas of having
lots of line
Beauty of Creation,
dreams funded
Impeccable sweetness,
Call you
Remaining accrued charcoal
Weight beneath,
Awakening of the Himalayas
It is a rule
Winter, Spring return,
Train routine
The artist has gone to draw
Springtime
Persons who see the future
After math,
Make the nuclear bomb,
O' They **** the child,
peace poem burns
In the destruction
of the desert
All are filled with trash
Hunger,
Cluster bombs
Allocation for children
Mother's womb,
Earth within the Earth,
even not a secure socket
Thoughtless however,
At all a game,
You can not say!
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
I was sitting with a boy
We weren’t doing much of anything, just playing
Video games and eating crisps
We blow something up and he turns to me and says
“Man, if I had a piece of gold for everything I knew
I’d be no richer than I am now.”
I snort.
“Don’t be stupid, you know heaps.”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
I think for a bit.
“You know there is blood in your veins.”
“Yes. One gold then.”
“You know that it’s sunny outside.”
(He cranes to the left to look out the window and nods.
“Two gold then.”
“You know your name.”
He shrugs his shoulder.
“Sometimes. Am I the name on the lanyard I use at work? Am I my girlfriend’s endearment? Am I the nickname I had at school? Am I my mother’s darling or my father’s ‘tough little man’?”
He pauses. “I’d only give it a silver.”
I say
“You know that you were born, and one day you will die.”
Another pause.
“Three gold, one silver.”
After that we can’t think of anything else.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 3:55 AM UTC
Why just one day allocation?
Whole life is not enough for the creators.
Not just social media celebration,
they deserve gratitude
and
appreciation...
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 7:07 AM UTC
Modern Monetary Theory (MMT) claims
That money must be managed or controlled
Actively setting a price (and supply) of money.
Artificially low or high interest rates lead to loss
Of signal which leads to misallocation of capital
Which leads to market bubbles and collapses
Therefore
Let’s use a money that can never be distorted
In either price or supply by any group at all
This will be a money that gives true signals
About capital allocation to needed projects
Based on free market principles and work
What money can’t be distorted? Bitcoin
Feb 9, 2023
Feb 9, 2023 at 10:18 AM UTC
Here are people living
in wet boxes
and I don't cry
I am not campaigning
for an allocation in the budget
I feel alone
just like the others
in their houses and clean clothes
who already have so much to do
and who walk by embarrassed
with a friendly greeting
that cuts off a conversation
before it can begin
and who forget this quickly
before it becomes a problem
Sometimes we give money
What else can you do
but ponder your sin-
ful needs and spend
what you have got after that
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 3:30 AM UTC