"behaviors" poems
Radness
The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more.
How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws
Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another.
The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole.
The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave.
Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry.
Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond.
I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre
and said to my wife A gun in every home.
Those devils would think twice
before razing the village and seizing the boys.
A well-regulated militia.
The local militia the most interesting moment
in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases,
fights) and a **** sexless love story.
Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the
community, the young
from the janjaweed. The crop from the ****
Limited scope and defensive posture
but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women)
side by side.
Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain.
Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture.
Great music. Cuba, Africa.
The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat
of violence
No saxophones in the band. The saxophone!
Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the
Congo!
When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry
for non-violent acts.
This quiet neighborhood, July,
undergirded by violence, force. That's a given--
any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that.
Without just violence
Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited,
negligible (but not non-existent)?
Regarding King
the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon
federal force to counter the South's violence.
No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be
overwhelmed by southern violence.
Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic.
Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the
British. Or did he?
1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi
restrained but could release which the British feared, and
2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that
allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint
was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as
emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and
valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture).
What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with
community
as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession.
Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the
common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with
otherwise neutral, private acts.
The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is
forgoing deadly force.
But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence,
in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune
violence.
Hence, a gun in every home.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
Untold secrets,
unknown saviors.
Unheld barriers,
unseen failures;
Mysterious behaviors.
Revolutionary creators,
merciless dictators.
Heartless players,
hypocritical traitors;
Misleaded misleaders.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
A real man is not a person who can
impregnate a woman; any guy can also
impregnate a woman. Even a 17 year old boy
can impregnate a woman but that does not
make him a man.
A real man is not a person who is good in
bed. Any idiot can be good in bed.
A real man is not a person who beats his
wife/girlfriend. Infact it is only idiots that
beat their women.
A real man is a person who tolerates his
woman
A real man is a person who controls his
anger
A real man is the person who shows real
care and love to his woman
A real man is the person who knows how
to solve the crises and problems in his
relationship
A real man does not beat his woman
A real man is hardworking. He is not lazy
A real man can endure, persevere and be
patient
A real man can overlook the bad
behaviors of his woman
A real man corrects his woman with love.
Real men make their women happy.
Therefore, ladies, when choosing a man, date
real men only.
Marry real men only. If you are not happy in
your relationship now, that means your guy
is not a real man.!
Look beyond *** and money and go for
happiness and peace of mind.
—Do You Agree???
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
Sitting in the local coffee shop,
Listening to coffee shop songs,
Doing work but simultaneously
Watching people.
Studying psychology,
Of the abnormal type,
Watching behaviors,
But not reflecting inward.
Sipping hot coffee,
Burning your mouth on it,
But trying not to react.
Someone across the cafe saw you; ****
Studying people,
Drinking coffee nonchalantly,
Watching behavior,
Reflect inward, ******
Reflect inward.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:48 AM UTC
capricorn: someday you'll wake up and the sun will be reaching down your throat saying her batteries ran out and she needs to borrow yours
aquarius: someday you'll realize that a hurricane without an eye isn't worth it and i hope that's today
pisces: someday your mom will give you a life altering piece of advice and you'll sit for a minute and then disregard the entire thing
aries: someday you'll bite your tongue and someone else will scream in pain, you'll look at him and someone else will fall in love, congrats
taurus: someday you'll be the reason they whisper "love hurts just like morning coffee" in the hallways
gemini: someday the government will have made laws prohibiting certain behaviors, and all because of you
cancer: someday someone will grab your hands and tell you that they love you and yes, you should probably abandon hopes of being decent now
leo: someday you'll make the conscious decision to love someone and then wonder why it didn't work like you thought it would
virgo: someday you'll meet someone who you talk about sunsets and road trips and being the human embodiment of a storm with; love them hard
libra: someday you'll abandon taking photos of the sky and you'll later find yourself tasting colors in the back of your throat
scorpio: someday you'll get a coffee and give your name and the barista will write "very sad looking girl that looks like a walking orchid"
sagittarius: someday the sun will stop asking for your half of the rent
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
Here it goes again,
Here it comes again,
The articles about
Psychopaths
And the accusatory tone
Twisting behaviors
Twisting actions
To sound toxic
To sound dangerous
To stamp a big red label on my skin,
Screaming
"AVOID THIS ONE AT ALL COSTS"
While I sit and weep.
But these articles
Blog posts
People fleeing from me
Left and right
Are lies, right?
Tell me, please,
Tell me,
Someone?
My anxiety and need to be reassured
Roots from my PTSD,
And my neediness and wants for attention
Is normal for my upbringing,
Right?
And writing poem after poem
About how much I care for you,
And making playlists
With songs in it
That make me think of you,
Is just a sign that I care,
Right?
I don't want to be
A psychopath.
I don't want to be
A toxic person,
I don't understand
How telling someone you love them,
Is bad?
But these articles say that showering someone
In constant attention and praise
Means you're a psychopath.
And these blog posts
Are telling me that poems and gifts and music,
All means you're selfish and unfeeling.
But I don't want to be,
I care so much, I love you so much.
I'm afraid
Of who I am.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
I awoke in the night and felt your back against mine
Was this some sort of sign, some distance I couldn't explain?
Or was this a self-perceived storm in the making
constructed from nothing that was real?
The darkness took comfort in those nights we spent
back to back
Ticking, ticking, ticking-
Searching for an outlet, even forging one out of our lack
of subconscious physical attachment, trying to
create a wedge
The wedge served as an object that would separate
my vulnerability from reality
Creaking across my temples and finding solitude in
the destruction of everything I held dear,
you.
As time went on, naturally that wedge became an abyss
and every night I fell hundreds of feet over and-
over again- until my heart shrank into a thread.
The feeling of uncontrollable anxious behaviors
began to manifest in my chest
There it remained-
digging around to find its home, once more
In my adolescent insecure tendencies
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 2:43 PM UTC
I feel like I’m ******* drowning again
All over again
Drowning in myself
Drowning in the lack of him
Drowning in the immense space between us
I took so many hits last night I shook and spasmed for two hours before I could sleep
But at least I wasn’t thinking about him
It’s okay
I’m not drowning
I’m okay
I’m not drowning
I’m not drowning
I’m not drowning
I’m not
Drowning
Drowning
Drowning
Drowning
Jun 25, 2021
Jun 25, 2021 at 3:27 AM UTC
**Hey Ranger Rick why don't you add this
one to the YipYap collection too**
You literally unblocked me
so you could add my nonpoem ''really part
3'' to your collection and
then blocked me again...?
Furthermore you say we're the bitter ones...
you're the one that keeps unblocking me
so you can comment on my poems
then blocking me back. Uh, stalking...? much
Didn't I tell you to stay off my page! ?
**Stalker: unwanted or obsessive attention by an individual or group toward another person. Stalking behaviors are related to harassment and intimidation and may include following the victim in person or >monitoring them.<
Cyber-Stalking: Cyberstalking is the use of the Internet or other electronic means to stalk or harass an individual, a group, or an organization. It may include >false accusations,< defamation, slander and libel. It may also include >monitoring, identity theft,<threats, vandalism & solicitation.**
.........................Ranger Rick Your are a Stalker, point blank.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
You move
I move
You ******
I moan
You touch
I burn
You murmur
I gasp
Your hands grasp
and pull
I heave and slither
You bite
and I crush
You squeeze
And I giggle.
Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 8:47 PM UTC
Love is like a disease it spreads.
Hatred is an itch when you keep
Scratching it. It Fester an kills you.
When i think about the things I've said.
Feelings I felt. I melt inside.
It turns my in sides out.
My heart combust
An I hate myself.
Why are I not enough.
Denial will have you walk for miles.
Sorrow is a sweet after taste of a sucker punch of truth.
Loneliness is only a symptom.
An that to will pass.
I am a enigma of feeling. I cry when the rain falls to hard. When the wind blows in the wrong directions. I'm poetic. I'm also a stepping stone. The men I've let erase my soul an rewrite my blueprint. The salty tears I cry are almost symbiotic. Another symptom. Like a sonnet short an sweet. Running in a circle walking a fine line. Waiting to leap. Is it a crime to work 9 to 9. Roller coaster emotinal train wreck. An I think to myself who will love me.
I bare myself to the pit an it asks me if I'll jump. I reply not today. Slumped down I step closer to the edge. I reenact self destructive behaviors daily. Am I considered an addict. I seek validation from namless phantoms. I named them my self conscious. Are you listening my beating heart gets louder. I order cream an chowder. Sips slow on estacy. Love an lust sleep next to me. I'm smothered in one while I'm blocked to the other. Exits are closed off I think where is my mother. I shudder remembering I'm alone.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
Talk incessantly.
Dwell on temporal affairs.
Ask friends for advice; ignore it.
Air out perceived problems constantly.
Respond defensively.
Never take criticism at face value.
Write off whoever won't humor you.
Accuse others of misunderstanding you.
Build your lifestyle on whims.
Presume entitlement to *** for "being nice".
Choose an inappropriate diet for your body.
Avoid personal responsibility.
Refuse to own your failures and errors.
Justify behaviors that create conflict.
Rationalize unfruitful thought and action at all cost.
Dismiss what contradicts your prejudices.
Compare yourself to Jesus.
Insist on your specialness.
Insist that others acknowledge it.
Don't communicate your expectations.
Blame others for your bad choices.
Fish for compliments.
Use sentiment to ply others.
Use sentiment to ply yourself.
Subject anyone to yourself
while the above applies to you.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
i've never fit the standard
i've always been quite odd
and while i know that makes me different
i'm not necessarily flawed
because it's always for the wrong things
that the world tends to applaud
though i swear it's not intentional
i've never been conventional
my behaviors have no pattern
my colors have no scheme
when i'm asleep i'm thinking
and when i'm awake i dream
while the rest are all so silent
something inside me screams
i'm more than three-dimensional
i've never been conventional
you may find me confusing
you may not like me very well
that's something i understand
i'm a hot pink among pastels
still i think, no i believe
that eccentricities propel
the reason i'm ascensional is
i've never been conventional
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
I know sometimes I’m a little obsessive
Some might call it bipolar depressive
Random mood swings causing me to become manic obsessive
Shifts in energy changes making me become impulsively energetic
Got my mind spinning around causing me a psychotic racing catatonic lack of awareness
So used to being told to calm down by my family and old therapist’s
Now I’m just living and learning off of my own failures and life lessons
Creating my own values and building towards a better impending prospective future with all these thoughts, ideas, different reasons and reactions
Moments of self worth can often start to feel fleeting due to daily life experiences and my own expressions
Followed by changes in feelings and mixed emotional ambivalence
Rarely opening up to people because, I feel vulnerable and misunderstood constantly stressing
But the few times I do is when something about them resonates with me making me feel calm, safe and accepted
I believe it’s because of my past trauma, I have to try everyday to be a soul survivor
Old coping mechanisms through past risky behaviors shattered recking havoc
Drugging and drinking to drown out these demons
In the depths of despair, my inner demon finds solace, a dangerous comfort I must avoid
Getting back up on my own two feet going to meetings after meeting
Late insomniac nights with thoughts never fully slowing down
Followed once again the next day I can’t seem to drown out all of the sounds
All these troubled thoughts restless I am
A soul survivor I fight, but I often find it hard to stand
Picking myself back up
I’m just a man searching for a way to feel human again
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 1:37 PM UTC
Im a bright idea.
A dreamer.
A lover.
A scholar.
A fool.
Of pure heart and...
A pure soul.
Pouring purely positive intent...
Placed within these words My story unfolds.
This is uneasy, unfixed, unloved, unending oneness.
And I sit un-interrupted in my unfounded unhappiness.
Willing it to fall like a ton of bricks.
And I realize...
Inertia is linear, not uniform.
So I sit.
Untouched by more than a few.
Unsaved by the untrue.
Behaviors become virtues.
Truth becomes reality.
Truth becomes trust.
Trust.
Becomes.
Everything.
Nov 6, 2010
Nov 6, 2010 at 7:37 PM UTC
I would like to think of myself as an intellectual, but really I’m just a regurgitation of the adolescent caste system with academic anxiety and a learned fear. Well, I suppose that is a bit harsh. I used to be social ***** now I am a lowly intrapersonal custodian (let us never mind my inter-personal mess-managing, please?), though I am far from clean. __________ I have found myself flitting back to this page from time to time and mentally inserting here a terse, self-degrading statement that could re-catalyze my pitiful little verse, but never actually writing it. I hold it heavy in my head where it shall remain, apparently. Apparently I don’t feel the need to read my flaws, transgressions, and fallibilities back to me. Perhaps I haven’t yet articulated them, and they’re just skulking around—hunched apparitions haunting my subconscious. (Death smells like dog treats: perplexing, but you want to touch your tongue to it so long as no one will know). I must slay them all, eventually, or else perish. But! It is not the transgression itself that I fear—my behaviors are observable, even tangible, I can stare at them for hours. It is the dark implication of the transgression—the churning matter only detectable for its outline of illumination—that gives me trepidation. How will I move-on? How will I grow-here? Like an impossible little spur that nestles between resistant skin and unknowing fabric? Can I penetrate the protection? My security is maniacal; it is evidence of crazed disillusion. I am the raven clawing through infinite veneers; I am tangled…
Out ****** spot! Out, I say!
I must regress to becoming the white blanket.
I must know nothing but God.
A simple cloth.
A towelette.
Rags!
Rags!
Rags!
…
….
…God?
…Hello?
…Is it too late to become
…plain?
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
*Would it be okay if I say, I’ve had enough of your presence in my life?
You’re too much of everything I hate
of all the things, you annoy me.
I wish you were gone and would fade away like you never existed.
But still you were there reminding me
of all the wrong things,
The bad memories,
The irritating personalities,
The foolish behaviors,
The selfish self,
and lastly
The sad and gloomy
State of mind.
I did something to hide you,
I can simply toss you aside,
Put a mask on your face,
Do a charade
Making you aware that you don’t exist,
and a complete cover-up of make belief.
I’ve done everything possible I can to coat or erase your every existence
But then I realized you’re a part of me
That can never be erased
A reflection of me
The reality of me
You can never be without me and I can never be without you
because
all in all
you’re
me
.*
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 8:16 AM UTC
Be careful when drinking the whiskey:
It leads to behaviors quite risky.
I once shared a bottle
With a bicorn hat model,
Then got—with this leprechaun—frisky.
*
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
So sweet, the animosity we keep so close. Ready to linger on forever like that nagging sensation that sticks with you, long after you've made the wrong decision. Always kicking yourself for making mistakes, yet repeating the behaviors as if they're programmed into your fate. Life is but a winding road. Choose your path carefully. For therein lies your destiny. And it is YOUR destiny. YOUR CHOICE. The gift of free will. Freedom that no man can take. Choose wisely. The red pill or the white? Down the rabbit hole we go. Forevermore yearning for answers. Losing ourselves, but finding our purpose. Losing our minds, but finding our souls. Down the rabbit hole we go. Have faith and dive in or watch life pass you by. Either way, it's your destiny. You created this life you have. What will you do with it now...take the plunge and swim to the beautiful shore, or struggle as you drown in your sorrow? Only you can choose. Namaste.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
How dare society make us women feel like
Our very own bodies is a prison,
To be locked up behind the metal bars of our *******
Tied up by the chains of our curvy figures
And the sentence lying between our thighs.
And the sentence is brutal.
Consent is no longer existent
When the *** is too tempting for a man to say no
And for you to say no.
Our butts slapped,
Chests groped,
Cheeks pinched,
Thighs squeezed,
In this prison we had the decency to call our own body
We are handcuffed to the degrading appetite of a man.
Women are not a display of things to touch
We are not a dessert menu for a man’s hunger
To be ordered by catcalling:
Want a taste of a woman’s behind?
**** that ***
A taste of ****
Oh, baby, put on a show for us!
Or just the full course meal-
Hey girl, ow ow owwww!
It is about time we strong women break free.
The jailor of men- I stole the key.
It is about time we change out of our prison uniforms of
Bikinis and mini skirts and stilettos
And break down the locks that confined us.
Our prison sentence is just about up,
And when we are let loose,
Us women will no longer stand for such debasing behaviors.
And when we’re free,
It’ll be time to teach the men a little lesson
This cage of our body does not define us, boys,
Maybe try finding the prisoner behind the bars-
Her personality,
Charming smile,
And brilliant intellect,
Instead of demeaning our existence,
Objectifying our importance-
We are not your tools, your toys.
We are humans, too, you know,
With- get this- feelings.
Try manners and kindness rather than
Feeling and groping your way to a woman’s heart.
We are not a play museum- we are the artifact,
The masterpiece- Mona Lisa, Starry Night, the Sistine Chapel-
You must stand behind the red velvet ropes and perform
What the English language calls respect,
With a thing also known as consent.
This- my body- is also known as my body,
It is not his, it is not hers, and most importantly,
It is not yours.
Please try to understand this- I know, it’s super complicated.
And if you gain anything from this, let it be this:
We are not here to satisfy you-
Women are not prisoners to a man’s every need.
We are not objects- no-
And we deserve to be heard.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
We play like kids Simply because there is a kid Inside each of us ... We live happily,but We feel we're only unhappy .... We live in death and We don't live life accurately ... We dream everyday ,but All our dreams come in the shape of nightmares ...
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
I had received the request
Thing I am used to process
But now it was quite different
For he was only three years old
*** testing commonly for adults
Who usually take risky behaviors
As sharing needles and multiple ***
But no not this innocent angel so fragile
The boy smiles as he looked at me
Seemed quiet when I extracted blood
I expect nothing serious for this a test
A requirement for a foreign adoption
Yet my heart was in a silent pain
When the result turns *** reactive
I retested it more than three times
But reality unveil the truth at hand
The poster mum was sadden
As she hopes the boy will find
A home with parents so kind
With future safe and secure
The silent pain surges inside
This conscience as witness
To all the agonies suffered
By those infected with ***
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
The journey that we are on is full of sacrifices.
Sacrificing sin, and addictions as well for God.
Its giving up things that the world deems good.
It a learning experience as well, learning to be free.
Free from the worldly-attitude and behaviors as well.
To become Christ like , to be spiritual like Jesus is.
To boldly become transform into Christ like person.
To stand firm and trust Christ with everything within you.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC