"assimilation" poems
***** What are those?
creation of some great architect.
they vary in size, shape and dimension
also in weight, width and assimilation...
one touch takes you million stars away
heavenly bliss, on the earth nevertheless,
squeeze them to the delight,
hold them to their perfect shapes,
Hands in joy and trickling liquid SomePlaceElse..
moaning body, screaming someone's name,
dude! you are the luckiest, keep up the fame..
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 6:42 PM UTC
A populace filled with totalitarian tranquility
The supposition that the world is in a harmonic homeostasis
Blissful ignorance that leads to careless calamity
Amid the uproar of the most populated of places
Therein lies the seed of humanity’s deceptive destruction
A solitary host housing a virulent virus
Infectious disease that proceeds crisis and corruption
Hope only stands with the powerful and pious
Prognosis describes communicable cannibalism
Rabid outbursts show signs of voracious violence
The harrowing pandemic leads to ceaseless cataclysm
Cities and towns suspended in systemic silence
Habitations riddled with gratuitous gore
Hope fades in the wake of the crimson carnage
The pestilent hoard feeds to a glutton’s galore
The Author of humanity publishes the final page
The closing verse rains down a rapturous recompense
The high cost of a dense population paid at humanity’s existential expense
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
Looking back, memories distort.
Replace damaged nodes with something similar
Perhaps reconstructed
From previous set-up before
X and Y parameters Report
Step One:
Check patient notes to self
Re-calculate from de-constructed
Inject imagination
Respect self-defence mechanism
or immediate virus node termination
(a response attack organism)
Re-calibrate instruments awareness
Strip upgrade
Love version 4.1
Reboot only in emergency
Refer to install options
Error:
Temporal Lobe Anomaly
Virus detected
Internal nodes infected
Import Rejection version 3.2
and couple with
Lets Be Friends upgrade 1
(Advanced program)
Monitor assimilation
Danger!
Overheated components -
Re-inject Memory Node
Objective Hindsight applet.
Refer to Step One
It is now safe to shut down
Should you wish to.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 8:09 AM UTC
Practicality is the reality
of ignominious totality
the devices of all sizes
and the grammatical mentality
of systematic duality.
Punctuation is the **********
the *********** of every generation
the permutation and saturation
of wordsmith temptation for re-calibration
the aberration and consternation
that leads to misinformation
and condemnation and annihilation
of the constellation colloquial conversation
the abomination of language urbanization
the fermentation and ionization
of linguistic complications
the desolation of commas and semi-colons
the affirmation of their vs they're
the augmentation of amalgamation
is just the lyrical ************
of a hooded basketball top nation
the culmination of devastation
the gestation and interpolation
that leads to appreciation isolation
and justification acceleration
the modification and assimilation
of poorly-worded implementation
and the contamination of myriad exploration
alienation in illumination
punctuation is the salvation of documentation
against the tides of violation
and the extermination of regurgitation
the classification of discrimination
and last but not least
the liberation of misrepresentation.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
coloring inside the lines is impossibly bleak,
with a hissing noise
atomic locomotive
rounds the bend,
extrasensory perception is not
a mindless gift,
it's a train station in the clouds,
tracking all my starting points to you,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.
you leave in opera
with secrets and grievances
under the radar,
and your ready-made
wings catch in the power lines,
you're coiling like smoke
in the arches of my cathedral,
a sense of elegant decay
while sweeping up the debris,
committing arson
with the paraffin of my temporal lobe.
yesterday's fairground waltzes,
ghosted lullabies,
and woodland hymnals,
set in a context not of
resolution and closure,
but of contradiction and assimilation,
break the bond,
away they float on purveyor belts,
one too many molecules,
one too many departures,
always on the surface of everything,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.
Feb 16, 2023
Feb 16, 2023 at 7:27 AM UTC
(For context, I went to...)
British Kindergarten in England,
French Elementary in Switzerland,
International MS in England,
French HS, then Int'l HS in Korea,
(And then completed...)
Undergraduate studies in NJ, USA,
9-month gap year in Hong Kong,
Graduate studies in QC, Canada.
------------------------------------------------------------
I have shattered my identity.
Frequently. Involuntarily.
I have undergone assimilation.
Socially. Psychologically.
I have encountered discrimination.
Directly. Racially.
I have endured isolation.
Grievingly. Impotently.
I have ill-wished on others.
Subconsciously. Unintentionally.
HOWEVER –
I have learned to be human.
Individually. Collectively.
I have discovered empathy.
Emotionally. Compassionately.
I have gained knowledge.
Culturally. Geographically.
I have acquired expertise.
Intellectually. Linguistically.
I have become a citizen.
Locally. Globally.
Perhaps we who are born and meant to move,
Are intended to, and exist to locomote forever,
Walking lands, sailing oceans, mastering the world.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
You! Do you wonder how you changed the Course,
the "Flow of the Weave,"
Across your own Microcosm?
You should know of the Khyber Pass,
and the armies that crossed there over centuries,
Families crushed, ***** forced to change.
And yet, across this violent Cacophony,
Life,
Embryonic,
always endures.
So what to fallen Gods, worshipped by dying generations?
By Assimilation's weak dead grasp,
A page is turned,
A thread is woven,
and a generation,
to pass.
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC
the hills were beginning to grow
the grass greening on the approach
to Blue Earth, and how
in summer
Minnesota shed her old coat
to shy guilty into brief silty lakes
like the
joy of a little kid, sneaking a forbidden dip.
remarking, casually, about
white warm flowers hung low from
planned oaks, and the impossible way the town
pulled local hills close, to coat
in dandelions. and cultivate
all under an ambitious midwestern sun.
rolling through the stop sign, hand on mine
you told me if you’re moving at all
you should keep it in second gear.
and we had so far to go, but in the light that
broke through westbound clouds,
we became less so.
contented to spread toes out in earth we
dug into Minnesota, the middle coast:
a land we could like to get to know.
and you:
looking down at the salt, the sand, the scars of
the grand american plantation:
the last coast.
knowing that by the next coast, we
you and me.
we'd be through.
saying, ‘how could anybody die?’
saying,
‘how could anybody tell you anything true?’
undercut by the honest waves of the little lake,
the hum that drummed in my gas tank.
trying, for once, at a little piece of truth:
when I leave this place I leave
a part of me behind.
and that part of me
will be you.
saying there’s only so much sweetness in the soil,
only so long after the thaw,
and grief is rich and dark and made for sowing:
must be, for maintaining verdant local hills, must be
for to keep corn sweet. must be for to put
grief
on the table. must be for to
keep with us.
for to keep a little bit to eat.
saying, we bleed but together we make a hole
to bury both our bodies in.
saying there’s a west out west but too late it’s
already hemmed us in.
saying now I am only a fragile assimilation of this weak
and fractured purpose that drives me, and you are
beautiful enough I would lie to let you love me.
even I would scorch this soil if only things wouldn’t grow I would
saying Blue Earth is still in the trucker's atlas is
only an excuse for sunshine. a point,
where freeways go.
saying,
“with earth, so green, that here they call it 'Blue'.”
saying
“I could learn to love a leopard.”
saying
“how dare you.”
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:20 AM UTC
the boy tugs your arm in public. his panic so local his gut could be yours. verbatim you confront the misquote children from abusive studio apartments inherit warehouse jobs from problem immigrants. a bruise of ***** darkens the front of your jeans.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
I'm not okay
Overcrowded in my mind
But I finally can say
I know I'm not okay
I debated being a martyr
Believed I wasn't strong
But I'm surviving
I've been fighting
Without realising
I know I'm not okay
Yet...
There's comfort in the anarchy
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Anxiously awaiting atomic assimilation
Basing me on belligerent and boorish bastardization
Capsizing cargo with careful consideration as to
Deciding which day is decay's destination
Everyone embrace the elevated expiration
Forget my face and follow fabrication
Go to the gallows with grace and gravitation
He will hold you and hinder alienation
I, however, hold insignificance in interest
Justifiable jackhammers jacking fighter jets
Killing Californians who are kissing canvases
Lying without laughing and lighting cigarettes
My master makes me move my mundane mind
Never knowing next to nothing with nothing else inside
Overly offering operating override
Practicing patiently pulling peoples' pride
Quickly questioning quizzical quietness
Rationalizing raging reinventions ridiculous
Stapling this summer to my (still) sick subconscious
Traveling tunnelers trading tides for tiredness
Under the umbrella my undertow untangles
Violently vibrating like varying violin angles
Waiting with wandering whispers under the table
Xylophonist x-rays, excruciating fables
You yellow youngling, you who screams in my dreams
Zebras zoom by every single night, it seems
Let's chant my enchantments, the alliteration song!
And untie your tongue
So you don't take it wrong.
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
elemental [ˌɛlɪˈmɛntəl] adj
1. fundamental; basic; primal the elemental needs of man
2. motivated by or symbolic of primitive and powerful natural forces or passions elemental rites of worship
3. of or relating to earth, air, water, and fire considered as elements
My skin shapes itself around the scars seared mercilessly
Into my mind, soul and body.
I breathed you in.
The salt and tobacco, overwhelming
As I recall your twisted embrace
Enchanting, and toxic
Suffocating my soul, diminishing the blaze.
And I must rekindle myself
To find that place,
where you can’t be.
There is a part that wants .
To feel your presence, once again.
Holding me
Back down, into the dust that shapes,
and folds under
Crushing waves.
Of water
as they are colored by the suns flames
here resides an ever present rage
The fibers of forest green are darkened beneath
The weight of wet
assimilation
Transpires, enveloping you into a distant memory
Of nothingness
My scars seared on like armor
Remind I burn through air
And earth
Transcending creation,
Destruction’s my curse
You, as the maker
Took more than I was worth.
Maybe you knew in the wisdom
That sometimes comes with
strife.
The life you had given
Was not yours to claim.
These walls I built for water
stand sturdy, scorched by pain.
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 6:30 PM UTC
oh such few words are minded,
no bravery apart
from the homosexuals
as skeletons in the chronicles of Narnia
being discovered among
the skeletons of tyrannosaurus rex
making a bed with its wheelchair able
paws - and the flag of the Cymru
fire-breathing turtles before excavation
and the myths of the mandarin too;
now tell me the sub-human plot with the
Normans when the anglo-sax reigned
to teach me to unlearn english
to avoid assimilation,
like you taught your former colonial subjects
to integrate and to alievate keeping assimilation:
which you taught to unlearn the mother's
tongue and learn a discrimination
against furthering the multi-cultural project...
which you taught to integrate and
keep at loss a sacred soul of never assimilating
akin to jew...integrate i must,
assimilate i care not for should i be totally
albino or asserting bleached with peace:
albino oder beteuern gebleicht mit frieden.
integrate i must to utilise the coinage
but to assimilate i must turn into a reggae african
with roots in the Caribbean than the Ivory Coast...
and god willing i will not claim to be
an arab's brother to settle karma over
uplifting the curse over Mecca with ibn Saud's
clock-tower; burn!!!
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
Their lives bleed into mine
What am I becoming?
As long as I'm bleeding in line
I can hear war drums drumming
I feel my purity and youth leave me
As their lack of couth feeds me
And their sweet tooth bleeds me
Until eventually I too am greedy
In this ****** atmosphere
Our ***** past is clear
Inspiring future fears
And hardened tears
Drowned by beers
And empty cheers
Through the years
Until we're here
As a ****** stranger
Head banger
Teenager
In Jesus' manger
This blight
Of life
As a simulation
Of assimilation
Into a nation
Of incineration
In a ****** mire
Lit by the fire
Positioned higher
I call my sire
I fidget in the cage
Of this pivotal maze
Called the Digital Age
I'm in need of healing
From this dark feeling
That I'm an innocent child reading
A book about a grown man bleeding
Always met with a hateful greeting
While sympathy is fleeting
Being replaced by our own jadedness
After living with those who hated us
We develop defensive thorns
Resembling demonic horns
To match public scorns
My first love
Drew first blood
And I couldn't halt the blood loss
Exacerbated by the mud toss
Of the sinister town crier
Exposing my heart's desires
So I said never again
For the bleeding to stop
When dealing with men
Is like meeting the cops
Aware that I'm defenseless
They start beating me senseless
So I become a judge myself
Part of the sludge for my health
I won't budge unless it's for wealth
Accepting the cards I was dealt
They bled into me
Now red is all I see
No way to get free
So I follow their lead
And choose to bleed
As they pray and plead
It becomes my turn
To cause the burns
That I had learned
When I was spurned
And lost my purity
Now blood cures me
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
feed yourself the beautiful dream
one brain wave at a time
so as not to choke on its entirety
or have to suffer anymore.
the entire vibrato you've used
is getting you nowhere, you see.
but soon, you'll be able
to say you're not on the streets to score
*another fix
another mix
of chemical endurance
and obliteration*
step on up, and read the sign
there's nothing left here
just as it was when your father walked
from one end to the other, feverishly.
we're dying out left and right,
but you're sure to make it,
i swear it, i've seen it,
and i'll make it all a reality
*based on dreaming
shaped from cleaning
of the mind
and its impurities.*
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 6:20 PM UTC
Monday's vision's fair of face
in the evenings the plasma rays shine
bright until seen through a window at a distance
******* energy from cables to my mind
blinding into happily blinkered existence
Tuesday's vision's full of grace
guilt makes me pull the covertous shutters down
being the observer is peep peeping embarrassing
being observed pays to add overtising shows on
it's so good not stirring when it's too disturbing
Wednesday's vision's full of woe
I am wilfully weak and slack on the couch
enjoying not having to speak or think
about being set up to get upset by nothing much
the sights flow seamless except when I blink
Thursday's vision has far to go
I would be there now but for one glitch
one flaw in the network's mesmeric sell
shared channels free as birds but rich
beyond the dragnet of any script's sequel
Friday's vision's loving and giving
in the smallest way it's electric beyond measure
distractions demanding attention with a hush
willing the constant whirling on with fresh images
look-look euphoric hooks to reel me in with a rush
Saturday's vision works hard for a living
and I'm wrapped in the dream of existing
by a simple drama of a varnished toenail
extending to a click the vanish going
going the way of Ting Ting Cao
your magnetic stimulation of the transcranial
kicks in and in my scrambled vision I saw
me touch your assimilation on redial
absorbing Sunday entire and raw
footage on display a draw so real
the pay channels dropped their jaw
surreal
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
It is Christmas Eve.
I sit idly, in slight discomfort on this wooden pew.
A glorified bench if you ask me.
I remember being a child, blissful and reverent.
I memorized sacred stanzas of prayer unaware of their meaning,
chanted them with everyone else.
I always thought God had excellent diction.
Now though I am puzzled.
For an American culture so ethnocentric, patronizing rituals in the third world and of other religions as silly;
Their own rituals are quite silly.
Transcending the mystery of creation for a moment now: having figured this a charade for the generational reproduction of virtue and morality inexorably tied up in the Americanization and Assimilation of society, that we might all move in one direction. That we might all create family units, buy houses, white picket fences, watch television on couches with children and consume, consume, consume... I deem it acceptable to be immoral.
Hymnals couldn't be more of a bore to me, prayers are empty.
But the girl three rows up is filling her dress quite nicely.
I wonder if she also is despondent, if her eyes wander.
I take a mental step back and realize how many girls are wearing high drawn dresses.
Are they showing off their flawless legs for the lord? Surely not.
They dressed that way for me.
The three rows up girl looks astray and catches my eye;
for a moment we have found our savior.
I make it a point to kneel next to her for communion,
brazen enough to tell her "That dress is something else."
She blushes and shoots me a seductive smile.
"Yes I'm wrapped up quite well aren't I? Only missing a bow."
Holding the body of Christ,
"That shouldn't be a problem, I'm quite good at unwrapping. These dexterous hands of mine."
Her body shifts to the left, her sinister side against my right.
I watch her take a rather large drink from the blood of Christ, she places her hand over mine as she braces to stand.
Our eyes flicker on again for an instant as she turns.
I'll be finding her.
The golden goblet seeks me next.
Bad wine posing as blood.
Like all these christian's faking it, it's quite suiting.
I wonder if they really believe they are drinking human blood?
And eating human flesh?
******* zombies man.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 2:12 PM UTC
Optimism fueled my hope
Negativity depletes it
My will fights destruction
If misery wants company
Then beat it
It becomes my obstruction
Initiating the assimilation
Replacing my hopes with heart-raping obligations
I retaliate with large amounts of pent-up rage
Have I won?
No...
I've merely set the stage
to become caged by what I refuse to be
I'm tricked into falling
towards the perilous seas
of judgement, pride, and justification
I watch my reflection in the sea
believing that everything is alright with me
...but I'm no longer who I chose to be
because I let the negativity infect me.
Is it too late to be rid of this disease?
With kindness, time,patience, and wisdom...
We shall see.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 1:46 AM UTC
*How does one overcompensate
For the incompetence of a nation?*
No compromise for the masses
undeniably stuck in ruts of habit
These days Ive seen and see
We're all craving harmony
With no equitable solution
To take the race out of the face
It's just accumulative corruption
Apprehensive assimilation
Aggression stirring underneath
A stone passive shade of sentience
Now say we might anticipate
The fantasizing fringe of youth
Where we will conquer or be conquered
By depravic spurring truth
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 2:07 AM UTC
Please,
leave me be
I will plead
guilty
to experiencing
feelings
and expressing them
so humanly
I can not
perceive
the vanity
in assimilation
with apathy
Growing elderly
So **** Pleas. .
and asking please
to secede
from an already
established
worldly apartheid
to everyone
and everything
Who participates in
empathy for nothing
but to breathe,
Eat
****
****
and Sleep
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Life's about the suffering
Peace a destination
What is more important
Is what happens duration
Impossible to self-pardon sins
Plagued with doubt and fear
What if darkness creeping within
Sronger than the light inhabiting here?
Worrying is not worth the toll
I have to pay my dues
No one can walk path for me
Don't wear the same size shoes
Each break and bruise instruction
Finish line forever unknown
Happy endings fantasy
Majority synthetic like silicon
It has to shift before we surrender
To assimilation of society
In-between consciouslessness
And controlled compliancy
After Point A wandered astray
Point B hopeless cause
Meandering sheep in a deluded daze
Progression practically on pause
Creativity and cerebration rare
Killed in each as a child
Brainwashed being obedient
Different labeled 'wild'
Those in power yearn to program every step
Shaping image to fit their mold
Corrupt agenda is nothing new
Most don't realize they are trapped in their hold
I want to lead uprising
But I simply am too afraid
Remember when surroundings were calmer
Present for past I desperately long to trade
We had plenty of time to correct behavior
There is an existing disconnect
From planet earth and each other
Too immersed in screens for paths to intersect
A thousand unanswered questions
In silence reality is revealed
Up to us to find purpose in this dimension
Stumbling blindly through this battlefield
We are closer to cliff than we realize
Inching towards edge each day passing by
Shadows halting vision with uncertainty
Wings clipped so we are unable to fly
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
In the picture
Of a treacherous silence
I hear fate whisper its lonely plans
A lost deliverer
Of doomed hearts
The soundtrack
To a perfect purgatory
And their war torn eyes
They will
Cry out
Once more
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
He’s trick, like enrapturing
Wherein lies the paradox of his pantheism parapet’s paragon
Extraversion embezzlements and euthanasia extortions
Diction’s enunciation echoes of opaque opulence
Its redolence a savory waft
The evolution of psychic clarity’s élan vital
Bizarre dichotomous augur the singer’s aural austerity
Gypsy Queen, his guitar’s moniker, romanced aimed intention
Elaborate elliptical empathy endeavors for posterity’s predication
Pandemically phatic propriety venerations
Their apex crux axis beyond finite solution
Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma
Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix
The individual must remain sacrosanct
Traipsing through the fallow furrows of assimilation’s xenobiotic barratry
Like capillaries' capricious and intravenous intrepid
Incalculably sensual beyond emotion’s expression
Impetus intrigue's intuitional verve
Ethology’s entelechy, theosophy’s theophany
Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities
Futurity's corporeally preternatural fatidic
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
Lost in Assimilation...
Propping me up
And down with the victim
Lost in Assimilation....
Detach the guilt
And lead from the symptoms
Lost in Assimilation....
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 5:26 PM UTC