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"brainpower" poems
Genuine intellect is often falsely understood. Brainpower cannot be measured by grades or exam performance, Nor from one's tone of voice or accent, Or the complexity of their vocabulary. It is not always proportional to the size of an income, The exclusivity of a school, The grasp of understanding of trigonometry or algebra, Or one's apparent IQ. *Difficulties and struggles do not make you unintelligent, They make you human.* Perception; Clarity of insight, Being a good judge of character and showing an understanding beyond thought indicate subtle brilliance. Having an aptitude with words, Knowing how to comfort, to console, Delicacy and precision And showing empathy to emotions Signify the intricate beauty of the mind. *Intelligence is sensitive, and has a certain elegance. It is knowing, but not saying.*
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
Exams are unjust.
Head spinning Feet tapping Mind wrapping Thought trapping Idea capping Desperation mapping Quality lacking Spaces filled Time killed Not thrilled Answers willed Nails biting Cheaters sighting After all nighting Wrongs not righting Feel like flighting Brainpower waning Lack of knowledge maintaining Wisdom draining Composure regaining Test failing Arms flailing Letters mailing Face paling The big unveiling No more prevailing The action entailing: My annihilation
0
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 5:04 AM UTC
Disorganized Chaos
Taking Chances when we were young, full of vim and vigor we could not wait, until we were bigger few things frightened us, we were made out of steel seeking excitement, we wanted to feel short on brainpower, but strong blood and guts we didn't care, if we were knocked on our butts we'd get right back up, and try it again from climbing a tree, to committing a sin now we are older, the chances more measured simple things then, now are more treasured being more careful, with much more to risk keeping things hidden, on a backup hard disk are we smarter now, or just a whole lot more boring have we lost our zest, spending time hiding and snoring afraid to take chances, throw our hearts in the ring seeking out ways, to make our hearts sing I don't want to die, having too many regrets being so careful, simply hedging my bets let them all snicker, and call me a fool I want to live life, bending some of the rules put on that parachute, take that big leap, take some missed chances, before that last sleep look that special friend, square in the eye tell them I love you, let your heart fly Gomer LePoet...
0
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
Taking Chances (r)
I do things that as a kid I promised I wouldn't and tell myself that it's alright when I probably shouldn't because my brainpower could be used for staying power 'stead I fly for cover like birds in a rain shower We go bad like curds on the Mayflower hoping we can make one moment last eight hours forget our jealousy convinced we're making memories, but something in my heart keeps on telling me: Somebody tell me why I'm so mad and why growing apart makes me so sad sometimes I wish I could go back I really wish I could go back I've made mistakes, and I know that I have a good heart, but I'm so bad sometimes I wish I could go back oh how I wish I could go back
0
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:08 PM UTC
The Elegy
I'm a docder, pretty wizard, how d'ya like that? I prescribe drugs, you just wear a pointy hat! I ain't no Dr. Phil BS or Dr. Dre crap, While you're busy casting spells, I'm savin' some poor old chap Against me, you wouldn't stand a chance I'm smarterer than you, and you just have a fancy stance I'm a real life livin' docder And you need me as a proctor Just to drink some vodkar And by now I bet you're wonderin' what ya just got in yer Ya can't even rhyme So why should I waste a single bit of my time Fightin' with ma docder powers which are all so sublime And here's a little gift Before I shift Back ta destroyin' all ya lyin' Without even tryin' It's a free little lesson Better count it as a blessin' Crap, wizard, that, warcraft and path Don't rhyme, just do the math And also by the way, you misspelled "WRATH!!!!!" I can wear whatever I want, from my boots up to my hat So, my little wizard, what d'ya think of that? I can use anything, from a .50 cal to a bat You just get a stick, and a stupid purple hat I can eat 416 billion grams of fat And cuz I'm a docder, I'd burn it off in nothin' flat By just using a little brainpower to focus All of my smartererness, against your hocus pocus   You could never mess with me Or either docder buddy, Jedingaling and Murly You'd leave so freakin early If we started a beef So just can it, and save yourself the grief Against Walsh, you would flee And as of now, he hasn't even got his docder PhD! Unlike me! Yeah, try every fancy trick And poke me with a stick A docder can take any pain, From a puny little stick to a saw with a chain! And then the docder'd turn around and use an attack And your whole puny world would fade into black You are done I have just won CUZ I'M A DOCDER, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!
0
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
I'M A DOCDER!!!!!!!! (The Rap Retaliation Of I'M A WIZARD)
I'm a docder, pretty wizard, how d'ya like that? I prescribe drugs, you just wear a pointy hat! I ain't no Dr. Phil BS or Dr. Dre crap, While you're busy casting spells, I'm savin' some poor old chap Against me, you wouldn't stand a chance I'm smarterer than you, and you just have a fancy stance I'm a real life livin' docder And you need me as a proctor Just to drink some vodkar And by now I bet you're wonderin' what ya just got in yer Ya can't even rhyme So why should I waste a single bit of my time Fightin' with ma docder powers which are all so sublime And here's a little gift Before I shift Back ta destroyin' all ya lyin' Without even tryin' It's a free little lesson Better count it as a blessin' Crap, wizard, that, warcraft and path Don't rhyme, just do the math And also by the way, you misspelled "WRATH!!!!!" I can wear whatever I want, from my boots up to my hat So, my little wizard, what d'ya think of that? I can use anything, from a .50 cal to a bat You just get a stick, and a stupid purple hat I can eat 416 billion grams of fat And cuz I'm a docder, I'd burn it off in nothin' flat By just using a little brainpower to focus All of my smartererness, against your hocus pocus   You could never mess with me Or either docder buddy, Jedingaling and Murly You'd leave so freakin early If we started a beef So just can it, and save yourself the grief Against Walsh, you would flee And as of now, he hasn't even got his docder PhD! Unlike me! Yeah, try every fancy trick And poke me with a stick A docder can take any pain, From a puny little stick to a saw with a chain! And then the docder'd turn around and use an attack And your whole puny world would fade into black You are done I have just won CUZ I'M A DOCDER, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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48
Knowledge comes with time, brainpower does not. If you never had deep thoughts as a child, have you ever even really thought?
0
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 8:17 PM UTC
Lost
Taking Chances when we were young, full of vim and vigger we could not wait, until we were bigger few things frightened us, we were made out of steel seeking excitement, we wanted to feel short on brainpower, but strong blood and guts we didn't care, if we were knocked on our butts we'd get right back up, and try it again from climbing a tree, to commiting a sin now we are older, the chances more measured simple things then, now are more treasured being more careful, with much more to risk keeping things hidden, on a backup hard disk are we smarter now, or just a whole lot more boring have we lost our zest, spending time hiding and snoring afraid to take chances, throw our hearts in the ring seeking out ways, to make our hearts sing I don't want to die, having too many regrets being so careful, simply hedgeing my bets let them all snicker, and call me a fool I want to live life, bending some of the rules put on that parachute, take that big leap, take some missed chances, before that last sleep look that special friend, square in the eye tell them I love you, let your heart fly Gomer LePoet...
0
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 7:30 PM UTC
Taking Chances
Sunday afternoon was spent in my best friends bed. It isn't like that, I swear, it's just that when I'm with him, I don't have to be anybody else. It's just that when I'm with him, I don't have to worry about scaring him away. It's just that when I'm with him, I don't have to use the extra brainpower that is the filter between me and other people. It's just that when I laid there it was a lot like coming home and a lot like I never left. It's just that when I'm with him I don't have to worry about being homeless, because it feels like something permanent.
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
Between Church
we abuse our most precious tool the human psyche misuse the recognition of patterns in inane sameness epiphanies of apophenia misguided musings muddling our addled minds wasting brainpower on fantasies of deities rather than scientific discoveries and emancipatory philosophies that could liberate us from the miasma of modern life inquiry is free
0
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 12:02 AM UTC
apophenia
Stranded for years upon this tormenting land My heart yearns to leave the forsaken sand With new wings spread, I will freely fly To touch the sun, the beautiful sky Determined to escape, I diligently build Using every last brainpower I've willed Day by day, feather by feather This will be my greatest creation ever Finally, after so many dreadful years And all the painstaking tears My wings are complete, I'm ready to soar Standing before a cliff, I see the new door Taking flight, I battle the wind Reaching the sky, it's more than I imagined Watching the world below me disappear I'm suddenly embraced by immense fear The distance increases ever so morosely and danger lurking, more and more closely Doubt enters my mind, I quiver and cower Will I reach my goal or lose my power? My wings are melting, the sun is near Flashes of memories of all I hold dear This must be the end, I'm holding my breath But all is blurry, this must be my death I find myself upon cool, green grass The sun is gone, what was to pass? Underneath the moonlight, upon new land I notice something different about my hand A black imprint on the tip of my finger
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC
To Touch the Sun
I imagine you to be a nightmare lizard poet I imagine this constantly, and with all my brainpower
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
Imagine
Rupi Kaur is so entirely correct. I'm not sure if writing is healing me or destroying me either. I get to say what I want, what I think. But from this writing comes those sleepless nights From this writing comes those silent screams in my brain From this writing comes a roaring, a deep, deep set roaring From this writing comes these bags under my eyes From this writing comes so much of my effort, my brainpower, my time From this writing comes her From this writing comes thinking, which is to be alive From this writing is maturity From this writing is growth And I'm not sure if this writing is creating me or destroying me. :;, ,;:
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Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC
From this writing
i don’t want to be thirty and wasting brainpower on not hurting myself i don’t want to be thirty at all because for three years i’ve thought that sixteen was the cutoff line maybe college but surely, someday, i’d find it in me to **** myself but one more year becomes two, and i don’t even remember any of the last few months except crying and writing poems to make myself feel better and then not feeling better i don’t want to be spending thirty minutes in the shower anymore digging my nails into my skin teetering on the edge of picking up a knife, feeling jealous of fourteen year old me who got the chance to break my skin or one month ago me who was selfish enough to keep cutting her hip even though she said she'd stop but to present me who hasn't drawn blood since then the milestone doesn't even feel like one because this is the worst i've ever felt and i don’t want to be this volatile, that talking to someone for five minutes keeps me floating and that not talking to one person will sink me; this is not life, and it is killing me that all i do is not **** myself, and i am tired of having each sentence start with suicide bone tired, chillingly casual suicide because nothing stops it i’m going to **** myself, aren’t i? i don’t know where my threshold is and when i’m going to reach it but i am barely scraping by through days that should be a breeze but what selfish piece of **** does that? cuts herself and then promises people who love her that she'll stop then promising herself to die because maybe they don't love her me, i guess i am just so miserable and sometimes i don’t care that my parents would be permanently broken or my friends scarred; maybe when i’m eighteen and just a little more alone maybe when i’m eighteen i’ll finally **** myself
0
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
bone tired suicide
i don’t want to be thirty and wasting brainpower on not hurting myself i don’t want to be thirty at all because for three years i’ve thought that sixteen was the cutoff line maybe college but surely, someday, i’d find it in me to **** myself but one more year becomes two, and i don’t even remember any of the last few months except crying and writing poems to make myself feel better and then not feeling better i don’t want to be spending thirty minutes in the shower anymore digging my nails into my skin teetering on the edge of picking up a knife, feeling jealous of fourteen year old me who got the chance to break my skin or one month ago me who was selfish enough to keep cutting her hip even though she said she'd stop but to present me who hasn't drawn blood since then the milestone doesn't even feel like one because this is the worst i've ever felt and i don’t want to be this volatile, that talking to someone for five minutes keeps me floating and that not talking to one person will sink me; this is not life, and it is killing me that all i do is not **** myself, and i am tired of having each sentence start with suicide bone tired, chillingly casual suicide because nothing stops it i’m going to **** myself, aren’t i? i don’t know where my threshold is and when i’m going to reach it but i am barely scraping by through days that should be a breeze but what selfish piece of **** does that? cuts herself and then promises people who love her that she'll stop then promising herself to die because maybe they don't love her me, i guess i am just so miserable and sometimes i don’t care that my parents would be permanently broken or my friends scarred; maybe when i’m eighteen and just a little more alone maybe when i’m eighteen i’ll finally **** myself
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58
found myself feigning to be real,     believe I'm pretending to conceal, how little could one know ones life?     even less do I know mine own strife asked a fact only I could know,     to not say, I would now have to show, weak records from which to assess,     so I craft an educated guess focused on a fading charade,     remaining brainpower working hard, keeping the trust of my allies,     to do so - I must stand my lies hexed with an unbreakable curse,     staying here - would only make it worse, not long before all is forgotten,     mind, memory and past turned rotten
0
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 6:53 PM UTC
Forget as I have