"allowable" poems
Memes! Angels, aberrations of opposition super standing
overseeing you,
The screamin' heebie jeebies.
Yo, where you wanta go, you axin me we just go
with it, the flow 'know?
What I mean is, are we memes or mes or messes of yeses
gone all johnny rcome late-rotten scarred scared, some thing not so far
from sacred when you put your mind to the whole idea of life being
at all. Thinking this is not easy. We are Able. Our belly's living waters cry out,
you are your brother's keeper, yes, you are.
Be leavin' that be, I am is, and you is,
too. When you apprehend the meme named
war.
That meme has led the me-me mob for as far as men
remember, but
now, machines remember for us, all the facts, just
the facts, ma'am.
Why'd the d go into a comma, Pop?
Welt (Duetch, bitte) Enshaung, glaube ich, vie leicht, aber
are we ever going to filter out these German bleed-overs?
stay tuned, next week the meme beacon is pulled down,
who shall pre or post or ex maybe vail, travail, like
trip
wow, I hate being a 20 year old vet back in the U.S. of A.
FTA All the way, Airborne
******** Herman Hesse ********
Jorney to and fro the east to west, and soon, et
cetera. Siam is a mere myth now, eh?
As the Narnia thing not called a heathen lie was allowed
allowable in mere Christianity.
I've only seen the English POV's on PBS, they may be filtered through
feedback, meme belching bursting bubbles from new wine 'nold vessels about to plode into eternity, singing along.
Thank you, very much. May I introduce, duce, intro duce, y'gittin this?
Duce means 2 if you see e squeen between, you see that?
Fun. No reason for fun? Who here, now, believes that or, no,
bees leavin' those lies be told?
Hunh? Y'know? Watch man, waht of the night?
See, what I mean? All this from me hearin' some guy say,
"Come and see, like that was okeh. For any body, n'me, too.
Thinking, as a past-time, is pointless. You know, if you act like it.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 1:21 AM UTC
Is mystery dependent on me thinking of mystery?
It is a safe bet.
For when what is central is knowledge, then I can only become aware of mystery if upon something new or unknown.
Thus, mystery is not knowledge, but the lack of it.
Mystery is ignorance.
Thus, my meditation is rather reflection on ignorance,
As if I'm trying to better describe ignorance, or find a way out of ignorance with only the experiential.
I think of mostly consciousness and the universe here, in terms of my and humanity's ignorance of them.
Not only am I limited by my own understanding but also the understanding of others, however much they are even more intelligent than me.
I see others working on problems that have proven to not solve the mystery, the mystery being ignorance.
The only thing that could solve it is omniscience.
Then it follows that what I'm really trying to solve is omniscience.
"Infinite cognition" as the Buddha put it.
Even if a person could have omniscience, it would be colored by how they can make sense of reality.
Knowledge would take the form of what is most familiar.
Thus, when wondering about a question as to what is pi, they may say about 3.14.
The answer conditioned on how people and the omniscient one would have the capacity to hear.
Maybe this seems more like intuition.
But omniscience would denote the person as a speaker, yet only allowable to speak as what was conducive for everyone's best.
This is how Baha'is look at Manifestations of God: only allowed to share a certain amount at a time.
Just as the Son said "I have many things to share with you, but you cannot hear them now".
Still their capacity would be limited to what they themselves were interested in.
For one who is marginalized and oppressed or even thronged by multitudes, often has no willingness to delve deeply into subject matter, it causing some to stray from a correct path.
Since fractal systems work strongest in more diverse settings, it would seem that the very thing that makes it strong also makes its capacity to hear weak.
Omniscience therefore, if given to only a few, has a limited range of effect.
But even this limited range would change the entire system.
As Baha'u'llah calls His followers "the leaven" and the Son calls His followers "the salt".
"Many are called but few are chosen" seems derogatory in a world where "ye are all the leaves of one tree".
World consciousness almost arose to love tonight, but the lover ensared it in his anger once again.
If I close my ears to them, will it go away?
If they close my ears to me, will I go away?
Strength in the diversity of parts.
Strength really meaning pain.
E Pluribus Unum.
Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 1:30 AM UTC
I am not a patient woman
Don’t pride myself on self control
You might prefer me lace and linen
But I’ll probably just stay rock and roll
And if I do it for attention
Then I’m not doing a good job
Your disbelief is my suspension
Your hungry ghost my favorite slob
I just want some rest now
He’s taking off my dress now
But only with his eyes
This proximity is teaching me
that I might be a whole new kind of powerful
Cause I’m always strong, But all along
My favorite song is sweeter than allowable
What if I let myself be gentle
And not scared to be called weak
You know the need to prove my strength to you
Is a trap, but I like teeth
Ask me why I’m always fighting
I’ll say you ain’t seen nothing yet
I’m just scared of not being exciting
It’s just not my style to be your pet
But if I do it for attention
Then I’m not doing a good job
Your disbelief is my suspension
Your hungry ghost my favorite slob
I just want some rest now
He’s taking off my dress now
But only with his eyes
I am not a patient woman
Don’t pride myself on self control
If you see more of me
Than spontaneity
I’m being stronger than my own black hole
I just want some rest now
He’s taking off my dress now
But only with his eyes
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC
how easily an infantile and innocent a tourist attraction can gain momentum of an iceberg process of revealing unsaid yet easily thought out things.
i'm like a jan matejko harlequin -
the stańczyk gloomed
over the loss of smoleńsk,
the stańczyk - as if a mongolian presence -
the lajkonik of st. mary's noon trumpet
call where a mongolian arrow
pierced the musician's throat...
a big ben of the east a radio reprimand
of beep beep beep...
weeping over england
in the night sitting on a wooden stump
with sunglasses...
oh woe... oh woe! may my heart serve as
both sword and shield, O england!
i am but like the matejko harlequin
(the stańczyk), i am but the memory of
mongols in europe (the lajkonik)...
may i simply record the fates of nations,
and merely acknowledge
my own dearly departed wishing a return
to and severing friendships grasped
in this my so called home lost;
why the abortion of my thought to reclaim
high school education in a
home without allowable citizenship,
and why my necessitating to keep the homage
tongue of birth
usable on the ready...
half of europe disappeared with post-colonialism
and lack of empire building!
so bloodied and monochromatic!
oh but i had nothing to do with it,
i simply woke into this nightmare!
now i'm accused for transgressing social rubrics!
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
i don’t think it’s allowable
for me to be jealous of someone i
haven’t ever met but i wonder what
goes through your mind when he says “i love you,
my little starlet.” the other
day i swear i overheard the news reporters
on channel seven
talk about the cinderellas that
walk out of your job because you
give them glass slippers and make their parents
actually love them. in the background,
my roommates are talking to their temporary girlfriends and
they’re whispering “he can’t see anything, don’t
worry about him. he should be used to this by now.”
my mother, she worries about me. she told
me to stick to myself like super glue and the only
thing that should separate me is the sweaty palms
from holding your hand in subway cars at **** near midnight.
i need you now more than anything mom. tell me that
i’m going to be okay and maybe one day, i’ll be happy.
i need more than a shooting star, i need the whole galaxy.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
How can life begin when you fall on a cliff?
sat on a ledge for as long as the rain remains
waving for the meandering unforgivable miracles
of allowable hesitation and tensional destitution
When you look at a face do you see in the beyond?
areas and layers that regardless appease to angels
the marvels of the new coming unstormy parables
ushered at the lengthy table of debatable ideology
Whom do we pledge the crooked ways of the men?
aisles of mean and immeasurable consequential regrets
of when the summer unfolded and winter melted
beneath the flow of the lakes in the unseen caves
Where do we bow our untold perceived reconciliations?
kneel at the pebbled mast of an eventful aftermath
till the grounds little one, sift the fertile from gravel
start again, nurture the soils and bloom to fertility
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 7:32 AM UTC
I felt the kiss of a girl
She touched me
She still is
Yet she won’t last
Nothing ever does
Back to the minor artistrick spectrum role
She believed and she made a believer out of me
In the granjoke.
“I must say i’m impressed with this stuff”
Is the old semimental fluff
You’d expect from a saucepan elect.
I felt the kiss of the girl
And the cold air biting at my earlobe
I felt it.
I felt it man.
I didn’t just sense it.
So anyway she pulls away
My lips gainst hers
Then not again. For the thousandth time.
First time in ages.
She clung but did not lock
Her taste, i remembered well,
Sweet and unsavoury
Unique, repulsive
She got me convulsive
Submissive
Allowable to the point of
Control.
Now I don’t complain to be no great
Wordsmith of our time
But when the fates align
And forces combine
She was there.
Staring through her orange glow
In a way, heck, wouldn’t you like to know.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
I felt the kiss of a joint
She touched me
She still is
Yet she won’t last
Nothing ever does
Back to the minor artistrick spectrum role
She believed and she made a believer out of me
In the ganjoke.
“I must say i’m impressed with this stuff”
Is the old semimental fluff
You’d expect from a ****** elect.
I felt the kiss of the joint
And the cold air biting at my earlobe
I felt it.
I felt it man.
I didn’t just sense it.
So anyway she pulls away
My lips gainst hers
Then not again. For the thousandth time.
First time in ages.
She clung but did not lock
Her taste, i remembered well,
Sweet and unsavoury
Unique, repulsive
She got me convulsive
Submissive
Allowable to the point of
Control.
Now I don’t complain to be no great
Wordsmith of our time
But when the fates align
And forces combine
She was there.
Staring through her orange glow
In a way, heck, wouldn’t you like to know.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
Rolling ,falling ,tumbling , taking on traditions of gravity ,more sincere than religion in its nature
Building from a budding breath,carousing on unsure footing ,climbing relentlessly though unchecked
Frugal in thought, never realizing the true systems that should have been wrought,time will pay as they mature
Blind ambitions masking all intentions, reckless rampage forcing itself upward,but still remaining unprotected
Slowly growing ,taking on new ways, actively rising still uncompromising with a pattern littered with phantoms
daily paying a penance, yet still offering little resistance ,life's luscious moments taking up most of our time
Promises made against hands yet unplayed ,as new trials present themselves matching resistance paid with higher ransoms
Middle ground now meeting ,raking together a center piece more exposed ,playing pasts with hopes for a nicer future rhyme
Brazen bravery shown ,learned as we have grown but with a cost ,missing links leaving out parts of passion
Some may see it as cold ,individually known as bold , still playing part as the trait is linked to our fate
Moments of reason sometimes switching with the seasons , true reason still not a daily part of the ration
Blameless behavior, based without any reasonable facts, part of how we now react,responsibility now a closing gate
Those cautions we were warned to use now showing themselves as deeper wounds ,time building up a more visible wall
Climbing the ladder ,missing a few rungs allowable lessons but at what cost, once frozen but still willing to face the frost
Individuals moving with learned motivations but still relying on past lessons ,learning slowly may become part of the final downfall
So we may pick or choose lifes lessons ,making room for our own reasons ,just playing along ,waging like winners so all is never lost.
R.C.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
Sometimes you get so good at forgiving
That boundaries start to blur
Until they disappear completely.
Eventually you lose sight
Of what's allowable.
Eventually you forgive so easily
That it softens us to even the most
Vicious attacks.
And red flag.. after red flag..
After red flag
We can't even see them
They **** by so fast
Cause somewhere along the way
We forgot that red means stop.
Red means pause
And think.
I'm sure you think to yourself,
How can giving be bad?
It's only bad because we have given
So much of ourselves that all
That is left is bones.
We died to save you
But you would never have
Bled a drop for us
.
.
.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 12:01 AM UTC
In the beginning was the Word
And the Word was good - good and powerful
And so those in power dictated what was allowable
Claiming the rights of absolutum dominium
But soon found it too strong to be restrained by barriers of the tongue
And while they thought the Word was securely locked
It turned out to be the kinda Word that could not be blocked
It was still very good - good and angry
And in righteous anger in duplicate it broke free
To invade the hearts and minds of the laity
Of men and women like you, like me
to shake off the shackles of the antiquated educated
And to settle into the more readily disseminated.
The Word was out and stayed out after curfew
Keen to travel as far as it could do
To spread wide it's indelible red ink stain
A no matter how hard you scrub it will still remain kinda stain
Recklessly stubborn, to colour, to infest
to fully extend its world wide out stretch
Using every digital tweet and text
And to go on to cast its world wide net
So now you can all binge-feast on the freed up goodness
Of the eternal Word who was once made flesh
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:43 AM UTC