"anomalous" poems
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family
Lame folks ask me how,
its cause I ******* smoke
religiously
No God I smoke religious tree,
I get ****** in the name of heresy
You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance
So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me
My guise is Satan *****
and my swag is undisguisible
heartless and no conscience,
sicksicksix most recognizable
-that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little
Why deny me as the devil when
When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . .
From Hell I made a deal
and there is no repeal
nothing you see is real,
I will invade and pervade your mind
So wait in anticipation,
life's a figment of your own imagination
I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion
Pound for pound,
I'm a cenobite at heart,
I just haven't a heart to be found
It's not hard for me
its profound,
the sound of suffering
your soul is ours now
and I will tear it apart
Here's a toast to our orchestral
Symphony of the flesh
My swag's so ******* flawless
100 carrot diamonds,
******* love me cause I'm gorgeous
can't stag no more, fat stacks galore
embrace the force it opens doors
Is there a source, but of course -
it just lies dormant/
What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat
And you know that I'm no diplomat
It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets
And I sharply lack tact
tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp
Body language, that of Snorlax
someone once asked
why don't have an open mind
brains would spill out
if my ******* snapback
weren't so tight
Its the season to seize C's
and hallucinations be dazzlin em
don't believe your eyes son,
its only a phantasm but
Words are like playdough,
fun to play with not to eat
So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat
I can't be defeat
So suckle my teet
My verses are perverse
I'm high as **** words: failing
Get low
ill as **** so ******* sick,
blowed half past belligerent,
tweaking off my nasal drips,
There's serenity in debauchery -
***** I ******* bask in it
have a taste
basketcase,
I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings
"Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus"
Remember that you are playing the Game
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition
Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition
Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition
Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition
Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition
Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition
Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues
Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues
Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes
Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews
Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews
Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues
Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous
Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous
Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous
Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous
Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous
Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
*Perched upon the peasant’s altar
Anomalous, conglomerate, anorexic, and onyx
The concubine’s cake with the Oxford comma,
Communal and picked and eaten at by little birds
Nominal trauma oozes visceral
****** and break
Sever and break
Steep walls of amorphous clay
Congeal to the walls of the willow
Exquisite and infinite, infidel
Flight
****** Lo, light of my life,
Long hair dripping with whiskey*
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 12:11 AM UTC
Told my feelings were fake
Laughed at for crying
Brutalized for refusing
Depicted as anomalous
This is my "home"
I exploded, caught a breath as I felt the silencing
Crossed volatile environments
Misunderstood ephemeral friends
Bullied, ostracized
Experienced injustice
This is school
I performed, in the illusion of shutting silencing
Living my curiosity
Knowledge is my strength
Reflexivity makes me grow
Embracing my difference
This is my refuge
I introspected, in the freedom of their paralyzed silencing
Meet mind-like people
Discovered my emotions
Explored my preferences
Dug my family history
This is my travel
I free-fell, as in my trust I hit structural silencing
Communicating humbly
Nourishing healthy relationships
Trusting my positions
Affirming my autonomy
This is my womanhood
Becoming a mother, I urge to gather the pieces for her freedom
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 6:13 PM UTC
I wish to get this out in the open,
I wish to clarify something
I must confess something to those who care about my writing:
My sense of humour is... well...
If you know me in person, you know my sense of humour
or what could be errantly said
to be a sense of humour.
I draw heavily upon:
facetiousness, mythic interpretation, sarcasm, satire, excessive formality, irony, wordplay,
a somewhat predisposed tendency towards not taking most things entirely seriously
even and almost especially when I am 'supposed to',
resorting to profanity on rare occasions,
and quite simply and succinctly a ****** up world perspective*
amassed over many years of living in this society
and from living with my late, similarly minded, brutally honest alcoholic Father,
in this society, nonetheless,
who in fact was at least *quite ******* directly* responsible for my aforementioned errant sense of humour.
If you knew him, you might say that I'm a "chip off the ol' block" in some ways,
but I know I'm quite ******* deviant from it in others.
So, to those of you who simply know of my existence via this digital outlet/public-sketchpad for my new-found passion of writing down every ******* thing I think it worthwhile to ponder again later, or perhaps even share with similarly minded, or at least accepting people; I wish to convey my deepest and most sincere pity, not in that it is anything that was your doing, just in that you can't possibly know my sense of humour and tasteless applications of irony and satire, and as such; I've probably offended some people.
However, for some anomalous reason,
some of you seem to like this stuff
So I'm going to keep it up.
If you read this: thank you,
but if you did not, then **** you;
however, if you didn't initially read this but were later directed to it by me or by some other personage,
fictional or real,
or for some other reason happened across it,
I rescind the aforementioned **** you" in light of conveying my deepest and most sincere
"Thank you for putting up with my weird-ass ********
I appreciate anyone who finds any value in my works.
I also appreciate the improbable nature of anyone liking my brain-vomit.
I love creating and I love sharing my creations,
so when that all works out,
I'm ******* fit as a fiddle;
Giddy as a schoolgirl on Prozac;
Happier than a young necrophiliac who achieves his boyhood ambition of becoming coroner.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
I am an escaped prisoner from barred disillusion,
A personable recluse fighting the illusion
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion.
I wonder how it is that I find optimism alone,
When collective pessimistic thoughts condone
The woeful tales that howl and moan.
I hear voices of people that aren’t there,
Yet find myself in calmness aware
Despite their tormented accusational affair.
I see ideals living and thriving out there
Even when apathy or indifference ensnare
Battered hearts and worn out minds in despair
I want nothing more than to ‘want’ so desperately
I hold onto desire so restlessly,
That I’ve tired the being of my entity,
I am an anomalous paradox captive to the sea
Where waters churn in active disharmony,
Yet comfort as it may my tranquility.
I pretend that I’ve already staked my global legacy
As if my words, thoughts, and feelings,
Have changed the world entirely.
I feel everything as I believe it should be,
Riding the waves of intensity
In emotionally humble serendipity,
I touch the stars in remote prose,
Wandering the vast expanses without close,
Wherever my mind goes, it goes.
I worry about the future of humanity,
As if I was merely here to watch observantly
From some unknown eternity.
I cry for those in silent pain
With fake smiles of disdain
Who dare not speak for thought in vain.
I am a quiet observer of the human condition
Checking and balancing sedition
Though never granting my submission.
I understand the fallibility of the mind,
Gathering as many perspectives I can find,
Theorizing everything to which I’m inclined.
I say it’s all relative but it’s all relevant
Prone to be dominated by the prevalent
Missing the subtleties that are heaven sent.
I dream when I’m awake through my ideals,
Even when they’re still just spinning wheels,
Hoping they gain traction as time reveals.
I try to be better than the day before,
As that’s the best way to keep score,
When the world has us compared to others so much more.
I hope my legacy is genuine,
I regret nothing even when I sin,
As time wears down my wrinkled grin.
I am only human, to live and to die,
That’s about all we can be or rely,
And honestly this notion breaths me a sigh.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Her
body
rejects
the
anomalous change
Her
gut
spits
out
suicidal atoms
are
we fuelling
a
pandemic
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition
Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition
Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition
Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition
Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition
Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition
Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues
Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues
Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes
Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews
Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews
Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues
Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous
Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous
Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous
Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous
Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous
Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
My anomalous trip thus far has been dichotomous.
Harbingers motivate my advent: a chorus.
Acceptance of frolic ventures sent: a quest.
My sneakers meet familiar soil at last.
Designed to be a panacea, yet I fall ill.
Sleets of rain impact my soul: a slight chill.
Hazed trance, awashed clean of all acrimony.
A lurid stroll, downhill, parallel, perfunctory.
I, a stoic mercenary, avenging my ties tonight.
Arcane magic flow through my veins, my sight.
Moisture sparkle, glistens through my mental maze.
Resistance, control: I attempt to regain ablaze.
Synaptics fuse, burn, misfire, discombobulate.
Higher functions remain: calculus, formulate.
Veritas! Visual focus be on 2D layer sharp.
Disintegrated data sung with melodious harp.
Laissez-faire slayed by Communist meritocracy.
Mental hierarchy arise from wayward sorcery.
My affection for her nets only melancholia.
The amity cease... yet reborn by spying cornea.
Upon a hill from sea to sea brings forth diplomacy.
Lively lads, enshrouded in black; they be prodigies.
Persons of worth: one stranger joins their ranks.
If my creed offend, beg you pardon pranks.
Silent drizzle softly sings of night and majesty.
Lament under moonlight, behold gray sanctity.
Ne'er shall dreadful turmoil befall our facilities.
Literature conceals such divine secrecy.
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
You blame not
when I am not with you.
You welcome
when I come back to you.
You nourish
when I am open to you.
You flourish
when I am your conduit.
There is no mention
of the time we're separate.
There is no pressure
to be a certain way.
There is no guilt
in being distracted by life.
There is no shame
in being wrong about things,
even yourself.
You are compassionate.
Though,
When I chase, you elude-
(because you are already there in me.)
When I stay, you egg me on
(because you are pure energy.)
When I capture, you escape
(because you are ethereal)
When I accommodate, you amaze
(because you are all-creative)
When I name, you become anomalous
(because you defy labels)
When I control, you boycott
(because to control is to disrespect).
When I let go, you comply
(because by letting go, you let it stay).
You are nothing as you are everything;
the things we perceive are your reflections.
Though you are no singular thing,
that is what allows you to be everything.
You are each person,
but very few people are you.
You are infinite wisdom,
thus can no one define you.
You are a pattern, a fractal of Philosophy
that can be reflected and lived
but not that can be told or taught (other than perhaps by example);
for it is subjectively based on One's existence and mindset.
Based upon One's path:
***It is simultaneously the greatest gift and curse
for One to have One's own path:***
No one can dictate for anyone else their path
because no one has the path of anyone else,
nor can they know of the path of another.
It's neigh impossible for one to know one's own path;
you must always be seeking to discover it; to let it unfold.
One can and must learn to be more sensitive to One's own path;
That itself takes great mental cultivation,
which in turn takes a willingness for One to learn things about Oneself that One might not like,
not to mention Practice, Self-Discipline, and Patience.
None of which can anyone do for You
but You.
::
It is up to you and you alone how worthwhile your life ends up being;
physical reality is a holographic maximum-security prison for your Chi
but the holographic prison is merciful by the grace of it being holographic.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Immaculate by daylight,
Atrocious at dark.
The stimulus for flesh makes them moonstruck,
Hidden away by an exploit pokerface.
Shades of red everywhere,
Roses and wine still can't satisfy the cravings.
With no guilt and no agony,
Everlasting crimes are on each corner.
The raven interceded in the turtle dove's life,
No longer singing the anomalous melody.
Deteriorated DNA samples and clues,
The oracle slayer whereabouts remain unknown.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
In nature, as in civilised homes, there is evidence of conformity
That only significant study would make apparent,
but his studies were suspicious and neighbours would talk
The nose is bleeding and his pretty song is skipping
on the jukebox by the bathroom door
Anhedonia now is constant, the pathos inherent
As their mother went missing years ago
While they read Proust by the window,
and the day was drawing closed
Their father was sick with Absinthe shakes
whilst little duck starved in the pond behind the house
On disagreeable days,
profound introspection
becomes not more than
subversive psycho-babble
and the words he speaks
are dust on the tongue
a bother and little more
Purported to be perpetually depressed, his cool demeanor left an impression
on his sister, as she would gaze upwards at his face, displaying world-weariness
So Weltschmerz they called him and his cool was palpable
but only her smile could bring colour to his fa-*
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
Silver Bullet Synchronicities, Literally, Layer into my Space a Perfect Union of Oblivion
The Ying, to The Yang, Baby....
Micro to Macro, Anomalous Events Don't quite Strike Me as anything Other than Normality in and of Different Scale
A For Instance
To my Eyes, the Sequoya Tree Appears to Tower, the Highest of the High
While our beloved Earth Teachers....The Ant....Grounded above and below the Mother Clay,
Will Look at Me as a Colossal Mammalian largely Trembling the World with Weight Infinite
To the Point
Perspective is simply a specific view, an angled ray of Light, Thus Strikes the Object in it's Own Precise Uniqueness
Note of Importance
If only One ray strikes angled Light, One angle of Light just won't Suffice....Every Perspective must be Offering of It's Own Accord, thus Strikes the Creation True....
Wholeness is Truth
Truth is Coherence
Coherence is Smooth and Steady
Do I know if I'll be Ready?....Not Really
This I Do Know
All Matter is full of Wholes of Space, NOT EMPTY, but Full of Life, Feeding the Flow into Motion, Flowing the Motion of Inert Mass, Spinning the Soul to Life, Spinning into Infinite Bliss
LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL MOVEMENT
Some will make Life into Art with Dance
To Live Life at the Threshold, DANCE Your DREAMS into LIFE
Everyday and Every Night....DANCE
DANCE
DANCE
Bless You.....Bless Me...Bless Us All
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
you are all of the mind’s dirtiest trick:
a weathered image of Magdalena,
a sleight of hand and a swirl of skin.
defying the laws of inebriation like a culprit
set loose, or the pallor of the moon excreting its habiliments.
the old rancor of the tree from its spurious beating. vestal buds of autumn
frugal hands of drizzle in April, prostitutes pirouetting, pried open,
dissected in faces of the tabloids (their almost acrobatic supremacy on centerfolds)
all mangled like the unclear, yet certain picture of a 1990s havocked
retrospect.
you are all of the mind’s filth: a putrid modal-jazz entrapment
and I am that sad fellow at the elbow room of some dislimned establishment
falling as lithe as poppies in spring
only when my mind starts to sing freely, a clenched, harmonic framework
will my bones start to unloose in the ether, death with its ammoniac perfume,
closes in like an unwanted visitor with a bounty of silence drowning everything.
i imagine you anything but lustrous this evening.
there are certain points in the pressures of your gravity
that levitate to mere intersections of the finer points of ecstasy.
i imagine you all soft and plump as a word of salvage
without the vigor of blandishments when you start with your
own way of moving i imagine you as blunt as a dull knife
plunging into me – i imagine your sidereal satellites fail in their coverage
over impossibly the blackest of skies in February,|
i imagine you anything but clean
and all white and spruced up with the most
drenched light, real to the touch and swiftly moving across the afternoon
like wishing you all but perverse and anomalous
and strikingly beautiful.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 8:27 AM UTC
Driving down the blithe boulevard with my heart in the drivers seat and the world at my jaunty forefeet; aquatic nature abutting the equator serving as an anomalous educator and metaphysical communicator
Submerged in a state of angelic maturity; dopamine manumitted upon the sensible observance of internal assurance while living in the fullness of magnetizing, sunlit nourishment.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
We wore it like a coat that layered empathy
Brick by mason, these eyes did climb an architect’s design
Upon the stony lip coupled forms hung in dangle
Preachers of a starving theory fall bemused to this lucid void
And how could one see this garden pays no pence?
This well has no depth…
We fraying threads fabricate the bramble veil
And every visible seam that clenches shut our noble jowls
So whisper in tongues, lore of the wellspring
Passed the murky mores and any other barren state
Heed illusion with a whim, this caustic dawn forebodes all but the looming slumber
Fishing shadows, the tailor and seamstress wake upon no sea
A puddle rather with the faint breath of a jungle bog
Oh how this hallowed lens did more than mirror a final inception
It shown anomalous to each shifting breed, the moonlit scene:
An opened mouth kiss between the Narcissus –with his idle god the self-worshiping samara tree
And the Gold mouth embodied by a single rank of the fruiting pear
This is our garden, wracked with faithful dichotomy.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
It's sort of nice when we can't put names on things
because it precludes the shitstorm that is invoked
by using language
with it's presuppositions
and predispositions.
Objectivity is scarce in a world of memories.
The truest things are anomalous.
Anonymous; without names:
by their very nature,
Ineffable. Paradoxical.
Wonderful.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
The anomalous dismount
Fostering strange colours
Terminus
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 3:49 PM UTC
never in my wildest imagination
could i manufacture a person so divergent
so anomalous
so exceptional
you must have been contrived
by the fiercest of counterculturists
combining parts from one trope
to one entirely different
in a mismatched concoction
of fabricated mystery
so raw with your masculinity
so vigorous in your handiwork
but so tender at heart
so sensitive to the trivial ails
of your reeling lover
everything you do is so
wildly unprecedented
so fresh
so renewing
i'm shocked by your creativity
your boundless ingenuity
that reveals the matchless wonder
of your magnificent humility
someone so dapper
should not possess a heart so full
so vibrant
so goofy
and so open to love
because then someone like me
could fall in and never
find her way out
composed and collected
but in romance unbridled
how do you find the balance
so perfectly
for my two greatest desires?
i'm safe but i'm challenged
i'm motivated, excited, aroused-
i'm home
you stun me with your simplicity
and blind me with your charm
you are a force so alluring
so potent
so constructive
so irrevocably mine
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
I was talking to myself this morning.
Trying to figure out what it is that I am mourning.
Crazy thing is ...I awoke with this dread.
Something's gone from me...
Something's dead.
I told me "Stop it, don't think about it anymore!"
But I couldn't stop the hole that thought had already
begun to bore.
Into my very soul it had embossed.
A deep agonizing feeling of pain for something lost.
I couldn't shake it no matter how I tried.
Something was gone.
Something had died.
I attempted to smile and be happy, but to the sadness I'd succumb.
I feel isolated... I feel numb.
Something has left me.
Something is all wrong.
I feel as if... As if I don't belong.
What is this anomalous indigo?
I am not me.
The person I was, I...I can not see.
Crazy thing is...I awoke with this dread.
Perhaps it is I that I mourn...I who is dead.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
You were the anomalous speck in the charts
Of his future, the event he never foresaw, or wanted.
A coward to his core,
He fled once you showed him it was possible to bleed,
To have red seep from the stone of your heart
And have it course through your veins; when it dripped
Straight into his eyes, and he saw his true reflection,
That stone heart of his came crashing into yours.
They called it a modern-day Vesuvius,
After all the destruction he left in your wake.
Fragments flew to every corner of creation
Until the largest part of your heart collided
With the brightest star, and pounded it to dust.
The star came hurtling down and landed in the cavern of your chest.
It gave you new life, made you glow from inside out
As though you were alive; the cracks in the pallor of your skin
More palpable now that no piece of that god-forsaken
And bloodied heart of stone remained inside.
Celebration in the aftermath, but you are all too aware
Of what these frail minds cannot comprehend;
They can argue that the light gives life and the light brings joy
And the light is more powerful than any heart could take,
And you listen, as you weep.
Because even though you were betrayed by the stone of your heart
You pray for the dust to gather again,
For even you cannot compare a scintilla to the sun.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 9:19 AM UTC
In summer;
A fever for the world.
A billion scarred shoes,
carry me over the sapphire waters.
Whisper through my hair, tell me I’m home.
Tell me through and through i belong to you.
Like a needle, I am thread;
Latching to you, your direction, your ways.
Write to me in different languages,
Beckon me to the cobblestone tower,
Up the verdant hills,
Among the gritty powdered paths.
As i overlook the cerulean waters,
I’ll spot the trifling sailboats,
Like ripples in a cup of tea.
Too vast for a photograph,
Too surreal for words.
A wayward, willowy girl.
An anomalous, alluring world.
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
Sometimes I forget why.
I forget why I’m here, as if there was a reason at some point.
I forget where I’m going, where I’m from, why thats even important.
And I find myself full up
with this feeling
this lingering, ever looming feeling
that makes me want to burst from the seams of my skin.
And inside that feeling is total emptiness. The darkest of darks
I feel it when I sit in a puddle of myself surrounded by walls
When I am alone with others. Always, always.
I don’t know if it is the world wanting in or me wanting out
I don’t know if they can see it or feel it in my presence
Or if they have it too.
Desperately, I wish it was anomalous.
The feeling goes away temporarily, with distractions
Art, music, a taste of affection
and then I feel the shadow
and there it is again.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
my grace is cherubic,
seraphic, angelic,
she is a temple built
upon skepticism.
my boy wears a sloth-suit
and is swept away by even
the weakest rapids after
dipping only his pinky toe.
my grace is a hefty FAFSA award,
and she is report card dinners,
a new-blue honda, a heartbreak,
she is coming home to do laundry.
my boy is a defect, anomalous,
he cannot bide his time and so
rushes. i chase him to the city
limits and hope he'll get it right.
my grace is building strength,
compartmentalizing, sequencing,
she is careening into career
and coping/moping with loss.
my boy is behind, he's lazy.
he shirks, avoids, evades,
any escape, any port, no storm,
he has to bring something else,
he only sits with us when he
wants something. he spends
time with us when it serves
his agenda, his procrastination,
he likes men; he's abnormal,
he has to bring something
extra to the table or else
it will reflect badly on me.
i never went to college.
i rarely did my homework,
so my daughter, son, my wife,
they bear the brunt of my avoidance.
my grace breaks down while
student-teaching. i love her.
my boy aces econ test after
physics quiz. i tolerate him.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC