"brainstorm" poems - Hello Poetry

"brainstorm" poems

A kid wakes up; tuns on the news Sees the Texas police killing children again What can I tell you? You the few Does anybody listen here, my friend So this kid he gets a brainstorm Let's keep killing more and more I know I can be just like them I'll go to school; **** all my friends And it's Monkey See, Monkey Do Inspiration is so cool Monkey See, Monkey Do I'm a killer, how 'bout you Where are all the fearless leaders? Ain't there anybody left? No, not that kid from jersey Mobsters really aren't best All politicians are are sinkholes Usurping monies for their parties It makes this country one big stink-hole You know behind their backs they're farting They passed the rest of all the guns out More More More is all they shout-shout This is great for all the children Who sit scared shit-less at every grade school but it's Monkey see, Monkey do One good leader showed us to Monkey see, Monkey do I'm a killer, how 'bout you?

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Nov 5, 2014

Nov 5, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC

Monkey See, Monkey Do

A kid wakes up; tuns on the news Sees the Texas police killing children again What can I tell you? You the few Does anybody listen here, my friend So this kid he gets a brainstorm Let's keep killing more and more I know I can be just like them I'll go to school; **** all my friends And it's Monkey See, Monkey Do Inspiration is so cool Monkey See, Monkey Do I'm a killer, how 'bout you Where are all the fearless leaders? Ain't there anybody left? No, not that kid from jersey Mobsters really aren't best All politicians are are sinkholes Usurping monies for their parties It makes this country one big stink-hole You know behind their backs they're farting They passed the rest of all the guns out More More More is all they shout-shout This is great for all the children Who sit scared shit-less at every grade school but it's Monkey see, Monkey do One good leader showed us to Monkey see, Monkey do I'm a killer, how 'bout you?

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of course i ********** every night, otherwise i'd be wondering about the next Laika in space with some next soviet conspiracy Sputnik hovering while i chance abbreviate a change on hairstyling thinking: jeez, this is a little bit too afro frizzy for a brainstorm, maybe i better opt for Jamaican dreads? economics of shampoo usage, suddenly a large bank account. i do get the idea behind treating nouns like albinos... bleach the ******* hang them to dry in Polaroids... while commercial flights fly at a certain height, and the rich buggers fly high enough to jet-stream in the cirrus uncinus bracket... and they lie to children, they're talking about strange satellites... i can't see satellites, not without Galileo's excommunication apparatus, satellites, as far as i am concerned orbit the earth in a non-visible spectrum of the vacuum... hence their orbiting outside of the visible spectrum atmosphere of the earth, i would not be able to see a satellite for the love of Michaelangelo.

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May 4, 2016

May 4, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

Jamaican dreads

of course i ********** every night, otherwise i'd be wondering about the next Laika in space with some next soviet conspiracy Sputnik hovering while i chance abbreviate a change on hairstyling thinking: jeez, this is a little bit too afro frizzy for a brainstorm, maybe i better opt for Jamaican dreads? economics of shampoo usage, suddenly a large bank account. i do get the idea behind treating nouns like albinos... bleach the ******* hang them to dry in Polaroids... while commercial flights fly at a certain height, and the rich buggers fly high enough to jet-stream in the cirrus uncinus bracket... and they lie to children, they're talking about strange satellites... i can't see satellites, not without Galileo's excommunication apparatus, satellites, as far as i am concerned orbit the earth in a non-visible spectrum of the vacuum... hence their orbiting outside of the visible spectrum atmosphere of the earth, i would not be able to see a satellite for the love of Michaelangelo.

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Screaming What's the use----?? Flower of the Graces "The Tenth Muse" "Everyday Use It" The earth revolves Around the sun Minerals Love it Drink it vitamin C Mass of energy A-B-C The gravity every day We cannot use it_ Became the play money Copied tainted not the Bee's honey here's The everyday economy One lick of hope the envelope not much company Everyday- Einsteins Big profit scope The brainstorm Reign All signs detour cabin Choo Choo train caboose You nailed it the moose One footloose The one-man show Two women know The odds to their advantage Someone is the traitor Mom is the Tailor The zigzag lines Crazy cat felines "That's It" punctuality, Use your capability "Technet Technology" take a walk favorite park Shiba Inu rollover The bad ones the Millionaires homes flip over the do or dare We cannot pay NYC token fare Words are our power For Sale quick sales Being sold Too hot whats cold Those emails trying to delete (More casualties Tombstone mummies Democracy leading us like dummies chewing Bear Valentine gummies) Like the "Elephant Stampede" New Orleans parade Every day please donate We never know about our fate too early or late Every day new Providence Demon computer virus Love comes with confidence Love yourself and Venus Apples and oranges minus Use it You have a voice!!! City clean up cockroaches Swap your fake Rolex Watchtower index Trump tower complex "Eiffel Tower Use It" to be kissed Every day we need to cleanse The "Godly Shower" be blessed Practical Everday Use It Magical write poetically Precisely the right piece puzzle You are the one World it's you to dazzle*

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Feb 2, 2019

Feb 2, 2019 at 9:54 AM UTC

Everyday Use IT

Screaming What's the use----?? Flower of the Graces "The Tenth Muse" "Everyday Use It" The earth revolves Around the sun Minerals Love it Drink it vitamin C Mass of energy A-B-C The gravity every day We cannot use it_ Became the play money Copied tainted not the Bee's honey here's The everyday economy One lick of hope the envelope not much company Everyday- Einsteins Big profit scope The brainstorm Reign All signs detour cabin Choo Choo train caboose You nailed it the moose One footloose The one-man show Two women know The odds to their advantage Someone is the traitor Mom is the Tailor The zigzag lines Crazy cat felines "That's It" punctuality, Use your capability "Technet Technology" take a walk favorite park Shiba Inu rollover The bad ones the Millionaires homes flip over the do or dare We cannot pay NYC token fare Words are our power For Sale quick sales Being sold Too hot whats cold Those emails trying to delete (More casualties Tombstone mummies Democracy leading us like dummies chewing Bear Valentine gummies) Like the "Elephant Stampede" New Orleans parade Every day please donate We never know about our fate too early or late Every day new Providence Demon computer virus Love comes with confidence Love yourself and Venus Apples and oranges minus Use it You have a voice!!! City clean up cockroaches Swap your fake Rolex Watchtower index Trump tower complex "Eiffel Tower Use It" to be kissed Every day we need to cleanse The "Godly Shower" be blessed Practical Everday Use It Magical write poetically Precisely the right piece puzzle You are the one World it's you to dazzle*

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Panic, placed on the splintered edge of a dreaming mind, I spit and sputtered, like the dying wings of a dragonfly on a cold cappuccino morning. She called me in the dark moody blue hue of early morning as if to steal the broken moon from the attic in my chest. So early I could hear the creak of spider legs inching for a place of warmth. Still in dream logic, she was crying so quietly Melted spoons for a brain, I could only hear the groans and pains of the pet spiders on my ceiling, their so cute and pissy in the morning. She muffled "I need help" I snapped awake as if a reflex to fight a charging train wreck. This time advice came direct from my dream landscape the truth served dark black and without the vanilla flavor. I focus and get in gear "Hey girlie I am here, whats going on?" An hour goes by a like a cat sneeze on a stormy day. Again she laughs if I could see her, her smile would be wide tired and tear stained. I laugh with her, while aching at the corner of my eyes " well hey try that tomorrow and if it doesn't work we can brainstorm to try something else. Call me tomorrow my sleepiness is welting my consciousness, I am not much use now except maybe for some mad hatter talk." A pause she sighs as if pushing of sleep. I wanted just one more smile to be sure" Stand strong if you can survive this hit the sky will clear for you. We'll strangle the rainmaker if we have to" parting jokes and the call the ends, my moon back in my chest content spiders basking in rays of light I can almost hear the hum of the morning sun. I smile fading with the ceiling tucking me in, I can see her curled up with her stuffed animals half crying half terrified she falls to sleep drooling on her long time best friend Mr finkers. and Finally the purr of happy spiders lulls be back to sleep.

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Aug 23, 2012

Aug 23, 2012 at 6:29 PM UTC

I would strangle the rainmaker to give you a sunny day

Panic, placed on the splintered edge of a dreaming mind, I spit and sputtered, like the dying wings of a dragonfly on a cold cappuccino morning. She called me in the dark moody blue hue of early morning as if to steal the broken moon from the attic in my chest. So early I could hear the creak of spider legs inching for a place of warmth. Still in dream logic, she was crying so quietly Melted spoons for a brain, I could only hear the groans and pains of the pet spiders on my ceiling, their so cute and pissy in the morning. She muffled "I need help" I snapped awake as if a reflex to fight a charging train wreck. This time advice came direct from my dream landscape the truth served dark black and without the vanilla flavor. I focus and get in gear "Hey girlie I am here, whats going on?" An hour goes by a like a cat sneeze on a stormy day. Again she laughs if I could see her, her smile would be wide tired and tear stained. I laugh with her, while aching at the corner of my eyes " well hey try that tomorrow and if it doesn't work we can brainstorm to try something else. Call me tomorrow my sleepiness is welting my consciousness, I am not much use now except maybe for some mad hatter talk." A pause she sighs as if pushing of sleep. I wanted just one more smile to be sure" Stand strong if you can survive this hit the sky will clear for you. We'll strangle the rainmaker if we have to" parting jokes and the call the ends, my moon back in my chest content spiders basking in rays of light I can almost hear the hum of the morning sun. I smile fading with the ceiling tucking me in, I can see her curled up with her stuffed animals half crying half terrified she falls to sleep drooling on her long time best friend Mr finkers. and Finally the purr of happy spiders lulls be back to sleep.

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- Passing idea Clusters a spark a mundane brainstorm And as it passes Through the elastic mind I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before the idea vanishes Before storm ceases Mad, Mad mind - Passing idea space exploded within itself atomic fusion instigated The mundane universe And it expands Through the elastic space I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before a black-hole Swallows my universe to create another one Mad, Mad universe - Passing idea Clusters of minds Until civilizations are fused Into mundane cultures And they expand Through the elastic generations I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before civilization zero Is both dead and alive In the schrodinger-like Transition to civilization one Mad, Mad persons - Passing idea Cluster of lonely universes Until the almighty gravity Loses its kingdom To the thought of multiverses And it expands Through the elastic kinship I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before multiverses wonder And discover: They think, therefore they are. Mad, Mad multiverses - I am sitting at my typewriter To capture an idea whilst thoughts are passing through my cerebral cortex Perhaps Someone inside an earth-like neuron in my brain Is sitting at his typewriter With a writer’s block Trying to make sense of the birth of me: His equivalent of the big bang a single atom Giving birth to the energy That shaped his universe - my cerebrum I am sitting at my typewriter To capture an idea Whilst the milky-way and Andromeda Are to cross through a string of light-like gravitational paths Perhaps The conscious of the universe Ponders my existence In a form of a passing idea Mad, Mad Alireza.

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Apr 20, 2014

Apr 20, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC

Mad, Mad Alireza

- Passing idea Clusters a spark a mundane brainstorm And as it passes Through the elastic mind I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before the idea vanishes Before storm ceases Mad, Mad mind - Passing idea space exploded within itself atomic fusion instigated The mundane universe And it expands Through the elastic space I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before a black-hole Swallows my universe to create another one Mad, Mad universe - Passing idea Clusters of minds Until civilizations are fused Into mundane cultures And they expand Through the elastic generations I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before civilization zero Is both dead and alive In the schrodinger-like Transition to civilization one Mad, Mad persons - Passing idea Cluster of lonely universes Until the almighty gravity Loses its kingdom To the thought of multiverses And it expands Through the elastic kinship I wish to sit At my typewriter To capture the essence Before it’s gone Before multiverses wonder And discover: They think, therefore they are. Mad, Mad multiverses - I am sitting at my typewriter To capture an idea whilst thoughts are passing through my cerebral cortex Perhaps Someone inside an earth-like neuron in my brain Is sitting at his typewriter With a writer’s block Trying to make sense of the birth of me: His equivalent of the big bang a single atom Giving birth to the energy That shaped his universe - my cerebrum I am sitting at my typewriter To capture an idea Whilst the milky-way and Andromeda Are to cross through a string of light-like gravitational paths Perhaps The conscious of the universe Ponders my existence In a form of a passing idea Mad, Mad Alireza.

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Hubby, Our fractured laugh is irredeemable. It Is reinforcing the heroic microbes. to brainstorm some tiny schemes. with a lack of delicacy and tact to recur the same cynic nights of devastation, incorporate the sores into our throats; a full-time personification of tangible intrusion, directly to the full portrait of the Meningitis itself. Distracting the law of the incubation hours for all strains, overpowering the blood cower, and hovering over our jaded hoarse, sneering at our last appalling psyche-knot After this creative detention, I’m invoking another forever torpor inside of our hearts' beats to pose another irrevocable damage that would perpetuate a close depiction of da Vinci’s Last Supper masterpiece. Honey, Light yourself with a viral-bacterial whirlwind and sink into its bleakness beside my bewitching bind. I'm still loving you despite all my infections. amid the urge to enfold your tsunami and swallow its combination Fortunately, we have survived so many different tragedies together, as a full piece of plague above Utopia. - The Poetic Soul

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Jul 28, 2023

Jul 28, 2023 at 9:54 PM UTC

The viral-bacterial detention.

Hubby, Our fractured laugh is irredeemable. It Is reinforcing the heroic microbes. to brainstorm some tiny schemes. with a lack of delicacy and tact to recur the same cynic nights of devastation, incorporate the sores into our throats; a full-time personification of tangible intrusion, directly to the full portrait of the Meningitis itself. Distracting the law of the incubation hours for all strains, overpowering the blood cower, and hovering over our jaded hoarse, sneering at our last appalling psyche-knot After this creative detention, I’m invoking another forever torpor inside of our hearts' beats to pose another irrevocable damage that would perpetuate a close depiction of da Vinci’s Last Supper masterpiece. Honey, Light yourself with a viral-bacterial whirlwind and sink into its bleakness beside my bewitching bind. I'm still loving you despite all my infections. amid the urge to enfold your tsunami and swallow its combination Fortunately, we have survived so many different tragedies together, as a full piece of plague above Utopia. - The Poetic Soul

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False memories and track marks pave your arms Sudden revolt of youth pressurised to fail Painkillers doubled and stacked for a head to slumber Soft heads and dead leg spasm attack pillow piddles in ***** Fictitious tesla coil blue breath mortifys mortality And your goggles won't fog out the underwater current miscellaneous Digital tectonic pushing ideas you brainstorm Shadowed reluctance to consume the musk of infrared roses This romance is one that was jealous of itself Pre-divorced in its own certainty on incompatibility Basin top full too top heavy to predict precarious Living in a shaded sense of erased memory lapses continuing truth Toward magnificent still life categorised by perdition Forward thinking ruby gold phong shaded hatred quantum conversate Unthinkable Nebula of gas Face first head in hands Euthanasia between my thighs crush my head Choked neck Throat Strangle me and give me breath I roll and the conductor pulls apart my mouth Diseased by euphoria lips separate and teeth show Pupils land home and iris jumps ship Perfume gum dry bitter butterfly kiss Head held back in place tongue falls back into the razor-front of the mouth Caution held simultaneous irrelevant body load carries my smile Jump knee deep into the silence of my own lungs It's been a while I breath vindictively in time with the respiration of the country Somewhere out in the hexagon sun I burn candles and whisp Hold in smoke Die Twitch forward in palliative peace motionless and still Cuspids and lochs Spread across the grass the harmony touches yours and mine A hole and whole dream Conscious and dead Content Voices rattle in unified mono-chromidity Sadness Carrion

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Mar 16, 2014

Mar 16, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC

False memories and track marks pave your arms Sudden revolt of youth pressurised to fail Painkillers doubled and stacked for a head to slumber Soft heads and dead leg spasm attack pillow piddles in ***** Fictitious tesla coil blue breath mortifys mortality And your goggles won't fog out the underwater current miscellaneous Digital tectonic pushing ideas you brainstorm Shadowed reluctance to consume the musk of infrared roses This romance is one that was jealous of itself Pre-divorced in its own certainty on incompatibility Basin top full too top heavy to predict precarious Living in a shaded sense of erased memory lapses continuing truth Toward magnificent still life categorised by perdition Forward thinking ruby gold phong shaded hatred quantum conversate Unthinkable Nebula of gas Face first head in hands Euthanasia between my thighs crush my head Choked neck Throat Strangle me and give me breath I roll and the conductor pulls apart my mouth Diseased by euphoria lips separate and teeth show Pupils land home and iris jumps ship Perfume gum dry bitter butterfly kiss Head held back in place tongue falls back into the razor-front of the mouth Caution held simultaneous irrelevant body load carries my smile Jump knee deep into the silence of my own lungs It's been a while I breath vindictively in time with the respiration of the country Somewhere out in the hexagon sun I burn candles and whisp Hold in smoke Die Twitch forward in palliative peace motionless and still Cuspids and lochs Spread across the grass the harmony touches yours and mine A hole and whole dream Conscious and dead Content Voices rattle in unified mono-chromidity Sadness Carrion

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-Audience! Prepare for the magic act *Hypnotically launching attacks upon the helpless masses* Won't pull a rabbit from a hat, Rather false-flaggish gaffs Practically exposed to radioactive madness *(Feel the hurt disappear like doves Gloriously soaring out your *** Hijack these hijinks Whilst laughing maniacally Tornado alley to the trailer-park mentality I call this a helluva brainstorm, High-velocity lethality Compose yourselves Are your brain-stems intact? -Okay. Now *f o l l o w the swing of my pendulous p e n m a n s h i p Drearily drift into dreamy trance, While I attempt to initialize a feat of mass hypnotization Enchantingly dip into deep illusory corridors of thoughts limitless* (Pay no attention to any slippage, Mental or otherwise It's already dripping out your ears & the seat of your pants) Real **** no gimmicks! Abracadabra Propaganda Extravaganza Gaze into my crystal ball Mouths agape in awe While I slay and lay waste indiscriminate to the faceless plague Come one, come all! Phantom sorcerer I am, conjuring unfathomable horrors To the collective mind procured through sleight-of-hand Voila! Still with us? Alright, hold your breath until you finally wake up And illuminate the bogus Hocus pocus front ♠ ♥ ♣ ♦ Shuffle the deck, Reset Earth's debts In a fabulous show of m i s d i r e c t i o n ♠ ♥ ♣ ♦ Now, Ladies & Gents! For my final performance With this rope, Suspended from the throat I am going to bulls-eye myself In the frontal lobe Dead-center In front of all you people With this .40 caliber desert eagle! Graciously donated by our very own NWO (applause) This one's sure to be mind-blowing folks.

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Aug 16, 2014

Aug 16, 2014 at 5:41 AM UTC

Smoke & Mirrors

-Audience! Prepare for the magic act *Hypnotically launching attacks upon the helpless masses* Won't pull a rabbit from a hat, Rather false-flaggish gaffs Practically exposed to radioactive madness *(Feel the hurt disappear like doves Gloriously soaring out your *** Hijack these hijinks Whilst laughing maniacally Tornado alley to the trailer-park mentality I call this a helluva brainstorm, High-velocity lethality Compose yourselves Are your brain-stems intact? -Okay. Now *f o l l o w the swing of my pendulous p e n m a n s h i p Drearily drift into dreamy trance, While I attempt to initialize a feat of mass hypnotization Enchantingly dip into deep illusory corridors of thoughts limitless* (Pay no attention to any slippage, Mental or otherwise It's already dripping out your ears & the seat of your pants) Real **** no gimmicks! Abracadabra Propaganda Extravaganza Gaze into my crystal ball Mouths agape in awe While I slay and lay waste indiscriminate to the faceless plague Come one, come all! Phantom sorcerer I am, conjuring unfathomable horrors To the collective mind procured through sleight-of-hand Voila! Still with us? Alright, hold your breath until you finally wake up And illuminate the bogus Hocus pocus front ♠ ♥ ♣ ♦ Shuffle the deck, Reset Earth's debts In a fabulous show of m i s d i r e c t i o n ♠ ♥ ♣ ♦ Now, Ladies & Gents! For my final performance With this rope, Suspended from the throat I am going to bulls-eye myself In the frontal lobe Dead-center In front of all you people With this .40 caliber desert eagle! Graciously donated by our very own NWO (applause) This one's sure to be mind-blowing folks.

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Sounds dreams art form In age norm- brainstorm Wake -up alarm rainstorms Carmel Clouds Barking noises and hounds Chasing to be found Sandstorm Monstrous- snowstorm Dreams to heal In uniform Please no harm love embraces Chasing the wrong faces Gazing- engaging- singing Dreams touch a nerve Reacting jump ringing* Chasing and saving Memory of words Wild child-hummingbirds Floating in the air taps No time like a normal nap The cell phone pictures and apps Chasing big stir coffee sips Valuable time trips Chasing our dreams Is real what it seems? Lips* met* the *sunset Eyes water love just met Chasing- raging- event Lullaby Lighthouse Does your dreams make any sense?

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Jun 14, 2023

Jun 14, 2023 at 8:02 AM UTC

Chasing Our Dreams

Sounds dreams art form In age norm- brainstorm Wake -up alarm rainstorms Carmel Clouds Barking noises and hounds Chasing to be found Sandstorm Monstrous- snowstorm Dreams to heal In uniform Please no harm love embraces Chasing the wrong faces Gazing- engaging- singing Dreams touch a nerve Reacting jump ringing* Chasing and saving Memory of words Wild child-hummingbirds Floating in the air taps No time like a normal nap The cell phone pictures and apps Chasing big stir coffee sips Valuable time trips Chasing our dreams Is real what it seems? Lips* met* the *sunset Eyes water love just met Chasing- raging- event Lullaby Lighthouse Does your dreams make any sense?

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Once I had an undesirable roommate I was in college at the time I was assigned to a girl not so great She did things I considered crimes I thought if I don’t get some relief I will lose what is left of my mind My stay at this college will be brief How can I leave my troubles behind I walked down the hall of my dorm Feeling very sad and forlorn Then suddenly I had a brainstorm That would heal all the hurt I had born Quickly I slipped into another room I met a girl I had long admired Holding my breath, did I dare presume She was working quietly and seemed inspired I didn’t know if she knew who I was If she would even listen to my request I told her the problem that had caused My world to be so greatly upset She seemed not a bit surprised at all For in a dorm rumors fly like the wind She smiled at me and my southern drawl Would you like to join me and move right in Her words were like a balm to my soul I quickly moved my possessions in before My old roommate could return and stroll In to make a drama scene that I abhor That was my college freshman year I remember many friends and good times But the best decision I made was clear Moving in with Jean Shuey was prime She was smart and always a lady so fine Five years older with some gray in her hair I was an extrovert and spoke my mind Together we made the ideal pair All that year she gave me much pleasure Studying and talking late into the night I always thought of her as my treasure Without her I would have been in a plight Time has its way of rushing on After college we lost contact I saw her a few times over days gone But I failed to call or keep track Today I decided to contact her again Soon I found her address and phone I wondered if her would still be my friend Or would rather just be left alone We talked for hours of good times and bad So much to catch up on after thirty years We both had lost our dear mom and dad But we said good-bye without any tears We planned to email each other often And meet at a restaurant for a meal I hope we never again let years soften Our love and admiration, time will not steal

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Oct 9, 2020

Oct 9, 2020 at 11:25 PM UTC

The Ideal Roommate

Once I had an undesirable roommate I was in college at the time I was assigned to a girl not so great She did things I considered crimes I thought if I don’t get some relief I will lose what is left of my mind My stay at this college will be brief How can I leave my troubles behind I walked down the hall of my dorm Feeling very sad and forlorn Then suddenly I had a brainstorm That would heal all the hurt I had born Quickly I slipped into another room I met a girl I had long admired Holding my breath, did I dare presume She was working quietly and seemed inspired I didn’t know if she knew who I was If she would even listen to my request I told her the problem that had caused My world to be so greatly upset She seemed not a bit surprised at all For in a dorm rumors fly like the wind She smiled at me and my southern drawl Would you like to join me and move right in Her words were like a balm to my soul I quickly moved my possessions in before My old roommate could return and stroll In to make a drama scene that I abhor That was my college freshman year I remember many friends and good times But the best decision I made was clear Moving in with Jean Shuey was prime She was smart and always a lady so fine Five years older with some gray in her hair I was an extrovert and spoke my mind Together we made the ideal pair All that year she gave me much pleasure Studying and talking late into the night I always thought of her as my treasure Without her I would have been in a plight Time has its way of rushing on After college we lost contact I saw her a few times over days gone But I failed to call or keep track Today I decided to contact her again Soon I found her address and phone I wondered if her would still be my friend Or would rather just be left alone We talked for hours of good times and bad So much to catch up on after thirty years We both had lost our dear mom and dad But we said good-bye without any tears We planned to email each other often And meet at a restaurant for a meal I hope we never again let years soften Our love and admiration, time will not steal

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Creative expressions, examine artistic talents. Plan it out, count ounces, keep countering the balance. Distant planets i feel more at place with, disgraced by the disgusting face human-race-lift. I'm currently placed here, a pessimistic cynic thinkin sink or swim, who cares? i'm already ****** dippin in it. Deep thoughts dropping, with brainstorm droughts often, countermanding clever cogitation conjured in common; I'm om nom nom-ing, busting every ****** ****** endowed well where it counts never gave a ***** a problem. Now drop that on an album, lay down a simple beat. Sample the same **** over and over on repeat. Call it a hype track, make some mixes, overlap. Over a short duration you can claim to be savior of rap. It's just that easy. Innovative minds depleting, stillborn America with its heart still beating. Patiently waiting.. I'm about to go crazy.. Basically, I better blow up or this hate is gonna take me.

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Jul 24, 2013

Jul 24, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC

Homegrown Terror

Creative expressions, examine artistic talents. Plan it out, count ounces, keep countering the balance. Distant planets i feel more at place with, disgraced by the disgusting face human-race-lift. I'm currently placed here, a pessimistic cynic thinkin sink or swim, who cares? i'm already ****** dippin in it. Deep thoughts dropping, with brainstorm droughts often, countermanding clever cogitation conjured in common; I'm om nom nom-ing, busting every ****** ****** endowed well where it counts never gave a ***** a problem. Now drop that on an album, lay down a simple beat. Sample the same **** over and over on repeat. Call it a hype track, make some mixes, overlap. Over a short duration you can claim to be savior of rap. It's just that easy. Innovative minds depleting, stillborn America with its heart still beating. Patiently waiting.. I'm about to go crazy.. Basically, I better blow up or this hate is gonna take me.

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*I lose myself deep in thought. Still I took what darkness brought. A war commenced, my mother fought. She lost her grip, her soul was caught. Here I am, a dark brainstorm. A silhouette set still waiting to take form. Seems like everyone is fighting but me. I could be anyone in another reality. Wish I could take a pill and be invincible. Takes power to make everyone incredible. I'm an animal without instinct. Potential in a lockdown precinct. Yet I swim through the deep end from the end back to the beginning. I will find my purpose for living.*

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Aug 4, 2016

Aug 4, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC

The Will to Survive

*I lose myself deep in thought. Still I took what darkness brought. A war commenced, my mother fought. She lost her grip, her soul was caught. Here I am, a dark brainstorm. A silhouette set still waiting to take form. Seems like everyone is fighting but me. I could be anyone in another reality. Wish I could take a pill and be invincible. Takes power to make everyone incredible. I'm an animal without instinct. Potential in a lockdown precinct. Yet I swim through the deep end from the end back to the beginning. I will find my purpose for living.*

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there's this theory, my mom once told me, that liars are always reincarnated as dogs i've been thinking a lot about people dying lately and i've also started counting time in dog years according to such, it's been about two long dog decades i don't miss you anymore, and i'm about done grieving you (you would've just called me out- i'm a liar through and through) and i found that if i drink enough, you're still here, well and alive your mom never cries or loops your old playlists when she drives your dad never comes over to gift me souvenirs from your life your sister never learns to shape grief into an essay in one night no, you're still helping her brainstorm what exactly to write we stay up together, on facetime, stressing the the entire night and she chooses premed because of a torn ACL, not a torn family and we spend hours debating if she should submit her SATs and grief is only ever-so-distant, yet only oh-so-familiar we have it our way: it is never more than a recognizable stranger i write you in present tense, you agree: dogs in our next life i gaslight, i lose my mind, i'm convinced anything's worth a try- so, how many poems do you think i have to write for it to be enough to bring a friend back to life?

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Feb 28, 2024

Feb 28, 2024 at 1:03 AM UTC

grief (in dog years)

there's this theory, my mom once told me, that liars are always reincarnated as dogs i've been thinking a lot about people dying lately and i've also started counting time in dog years according to such, it's been about two long dog decades i don't miss you anymore, and i'm about done grieving you (you would've just called me out- i'm a liar through and through) and i found that if i drink enough, you're still here, well and alive your mom never cries or loops your old playlists when she drives your dad never comes over to gift me souvenirs from your life your sister never learns to shape grief into an essay in one night no, you're still helping her brainstorm what exactly to write we stay up together, on facetime, stressing the the entire night and she chooses premed because of a torn ACL, not a torn family and we spend hours debating if she should submit her SATs and grief is only ever-so-distant, yet only oh-so-familiar we have it our way: it is never more than a recognizable stranger i write you in present tense, you agree: dogs in our next life i gaslight, i lose my mind, i'm convinced anything's worth a try- so, how many poems do you think i have to write for it to be enough to bring a friend back to life?

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***** pills and that naughty no no known as drugs hell if you do anything your addict ever see the sobber ****** down at the local mall? Kids screaming wife bitching you catch the eyes of the so called happy bastard who looks like one more scream laced cry is gonna make him flip and create some drama for the evening news . Yeah happiness sure smells like misery to me. Id rather drink and **** till I fall out dead than live the dream that looks more like a nightmare. Taking pills not to strangle some misreble ***** to death. Meanwhile she's greezing your brakes trying to to talk ya in to going to see the grand cannyon. Ever been there? Yeah a big *** ditch with a bunch of annoying picture taking ****** yeah i'll snap a pic of ya okay step back ,back okay like a few more steps well ya fell of the ledge ya silly ******** Guess it's cool to keep the camera. Ive been to scores seems the sights were more dam grand and the drinks a hell of alot better. Ever wake up to the dam TV blaring some early morning horse **** Some dam annoying tiny voiced ******* talkin to the kids. Look they got the net they get knocked up and make a show about it something tells me you can cut the ******* act. 16 and pregnant wow what genius more like when horney bastards attack hey heres a brainstorm birth control not that some over emotional half wit doesnt need a kid hell cant wait to see thoose offsprings hey mom wanna go on a double date to the prom? Happiness it cost to dam much and love will give ya heart burn.

0

Feb 7, 2011

Feb 7, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC

Drugs/Women/And Kids Cartoons

***** pills and that naughty no no known as drugs hell if you do anything your addict ever see the sobber ****** down at the local mall? Kids screaming wife bitching you catch the eyes of the so called happy bastard who looks like one more scream laced cry is gonna make him flip and create some drama for the evening news . Yeah happiness sure smells like misery to me. Id rather drink and **** till I fall out dead than live the dream that looks more like a nightmare. Taking pills not to strangle some misreble ***** to death. Meanwhile she's greezing your brakes trying to to talk ya in to going to see the grand cannyon. Ever been there? Yeah a big *** ditch with a bunch of annoying picture taking ****** yeah i'll snap a pic of ya okay step back ,back okay like a few more steps well ya fell of the ledge ya silly ******** Guess it's cool to keep the camera. Ive been to scores seems the sights were more dam grand and the drinks a hell of alot better. Ever wake up to the dam TV blaring some early morning horse **** Some dam annoying tiny voiced ******* talkin to the kids. Look they got the net they get knocked up and make a show about it something tells me you can cut the ******* act. 16 and pregnant wow what genius more like when horney bastards attack hey heres a brainstorm birth control not that some over emotional half wit doesnt need a kid hell cant wait to see thoose offsprings hey mom wanna go on a double date to the prom? Happiness it cost to dam much and love will give ya heart burn.

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No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On I awake as any other madman slash poet. Apon the floor naked pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket. yes the libary sure has changed over the years. less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into the stacks and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping it was probaly for the best. but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine american men wake up with are god given birth rite. That which after a trip to the restroom like that early morning madness that was christmas pressent openning was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing. Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they ****** altogather but drinking and common sense dont even belong in the same room togather. Portsmouth Va was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow. Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a spoiled spoon fed yuppie **** the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second. They walked the street soaking in the pain of life. there heads stuck so far up there ***** I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked by. acting as though they were outsiders yerning to be mainstream they'd **** there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background. Just for a taste of stardom. True talent who needs that? but no matter the floor you pass out on one thing was clear. In a world were you could have a bus load of kids and get paid for it. fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore. The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded voices from the past. the floor these hollow reallity show bottom feeders passed out on. Had to besoft as there heads. Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor. And some TV exect would have a brainstorm to have a show were washed up celebrities would have a contest. To see who could bore us the most with there sob story Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow than a reality show pillbox for a brain. and the truth effectsus all form no matter which floor so you do choose to pass out on.

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Dec 11, 2009

Dec 11, 2009 at 7:12 AM UTC

john-patrick-robbins-aka-gonzo

No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On

No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On I awake as any other madman slash poet. Apon the floor naked pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket. yes the libary sure has changed over the years. less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into the stacks and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping it was probaly for the best. but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine american men wake up with are god given birth rite. That which after a trip to the restroom like that early morning madness that was christmas pressent openning was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing. Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they ****** altogather but drinking and common sense dont even belong in the same room togather. Portsmouth Va was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow. Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a spoiled spoon fed yuppie **** the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second. They walked the street soaking in the pain of life. there heads stuck so far up there ***** I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked by. acting as though they were outsiders yerning to be mainstream they'd **** there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background. Just for a taste of stardom. True talent who needs that? but no matter the floor you pass out on one thing was clear. In a world were you could have a bus load of kids and get paid for it. fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore. The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded voices from the past. the floor these hollow reallity show bottom feeders passed out on. Had to besoft as there heads. Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor. And some TV exect would have a brainstorm to have a show were washed up celebrities would have a contest. To see who could bore us the most with there sob story Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow than a reality show pillbox for a brain. and the truth effectsus all form no matter which floor so you do choose to pass out on.

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today seemed inspired, clever grammatic acrobatics, maybe some genuine musings, definite contextual reactions. has the psyche, yours and mine, been as busy as the day's rain? what was so different in the air, when we stayed inside, seCured in our sense of shelter? was it ugly out? I found it beautiful, but I couldn't take my laptop outside :/

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Jul 20, 2012

Jul 20, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC

collective brainstorm

today seemed inspired, clever grammatic acrobatics, maybe some genuine musings, definite contextual reactions. has the psyche, yours and mine, been as busy as the day's rain? what was so different in the air, when we stayed inside, seCured in our sense of shelter? was it ugly out? I found it beautiful, but I couldn't take my laptop outside :/

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Nerve endings ignite, in a colossal implosion, of never ending thoughts, possibilities, and heartache. Weightlessness consumes me until the pain slowly ebbs; but I wake up, and hell resumes. Why is the truth so hard to come by?

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Jan 24, 2013

Jan 24, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC

Nerve endings ignite, in a colossal implosion, of never ending thoughts, possibilities, and heartache. Weightlessness consumes me until the pain slowly ebbs; but I wake up, and hell resumes. Why is the truth so hard to come by?

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brainstorming i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself, “this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.” i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me. i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit. i know i’ll finish this soon. i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it. i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in. i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping. my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences. as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.

0

Jul 18, 2019

Jul 18, 2019 at 2:35 AM UTC

brainstorming i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself, “this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.” i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me. i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit. i know i’ll finish this soon. i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it. i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in. i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping. my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences. as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.

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Spinning high to Fiction, a7x. the speakers' lack of bass is thin wailing across wood floor over bare feet slapping varnish surface twisitng in maroon boxers and 90's LOVE striped tank, coffee cooling with a pound of sugar next to pretzel rods salty and orange tiger bowl don't judge the odd hair, i shed like a retreiver The creature feeds on special spokens, tasting the air for more she realizes the brainstorm has passed her door. Travel the day with luciferin trails as you gleam fairly in the lowlight shower is needed on this continent as well

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Jul 13, 2014

Jul 13, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC

Spinning high to Fiction, a7x. the speakers' lack of bass is thin wailing across wood floor over bare feet slapping varnish surface twisitng in maroon boxers and 90's LOVE striped tank, coffee cooling with a pound of sugar next to pretzel rods salty and orange tiger bowl don't judge the odd hair, i shed like a retreiver The creature feeds on special spokens, tasting the air for more she realizes the brainstorm has passed her door. Travel the day with luciferin trails as you gleam fairly in the lowlight shower is needed on this continent as well

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Car wreck Trainwreck Smoking trainwreck Then I homewreck Like it's homework Why's it have to be such hard work Just to live a simple life Just to live, not wonder why Just to believe in the sky It's strange what this means to me I am floating heavily Within these lines I am set free To another galaxy I'm like a switch On off on off Left right left right Low high low high I'd always comply No longer will I blindly follow No longer will I drown in sorrow I now have a heavy understanding This life's about learning and it's **** demanding But what else do you have to do? I might as well be on top of you This is my quite respectful offer Before you tell yourself 'I lost her' But this is just about my body I hope you don't intellectually want me Not that I don't like your mind..it's just you know that she would mind For some reason I can't seem to find The words to say you're not my kind But this is just my high time worries When I try to brainstorm and avoid the flurries What I mean by brainstorm is really feel your body warm And to avoid the cold Don't let your mind be sold Whoever caves first will have to fold And this already feels like gold.

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Apr 12, 2014

Apr 12, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC

Car wreck Trainwreck Smoking trainwreck Then I homewreck Like it's homework Why's it have to be such hard work Just to live a simple life Just to live, not wonder why Just to believe in the sky It's strange what this means to me I am floating heavily Within these lines I am set free To another galaxy I'm like a switch On off on off Left right left right Low high low high I'd always comply No longer will I blindly follow No longer will I drown in sorrow I now have a heavy understanding This life's about learning and it's **** demanding But what else do you have to do? I might as well be on top of you This is my quite respectful offer Before you tell yourself 'I lost her' But this is just about my body I hope you don't intellectually want me Not that I don't like your mind..it's just you know that she would mind For some reason I can't seem to find The words to say you're not my kind But this is just my high time worries When I try to brainstorm and avoid the flurries What I mean by brainstorm is really feel your body warm And to avoid the cold Don't let your mind be sold Whoever caves first will have to fold And this already feels like gold.

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I conjure forth a booming and terrifying storm within the confines of my head. The clouds gather as the wind starts to howl. The trees sway as their leaves turn upward, hungrily waiting for the drops of rain to begin to sate them. There is a moment of silence before we see a bolt of lightning shatter the sky, followed shortly by a deep rolling thunder that shakes my imagination. Then i v d t e e w h r a o o s s s r u t e d g o s s h r t i s e s They form in puddles in my mind waiting to be put into vases where they can nourish my creativity

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Jan 21, 2012

Jan 21, 2012 at 12:33 AM UTC

I conjure forth a booming and terrifying storm within the confines of my head. The clouds gather as the wind starts to howl. The trees sway as their leaves turn upward, hungrily waiting for the drops of rain to begin to sate them. There is a moment of silence before we see a bolt of lightning shatter the sky, followed shortly by a deep rolling thunder that shakes my imagination. Then i v d t e e w h r a o o s s s r u t e d g o s s h r t i s e s They form in puddles in my mind waiting to be put into vases where they can nourish my creativity

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Pacing pacing to-and-fro, speaking aloud with cat in tow. Ranting,raving,shouting,craving, whispering a secret all hush and low. No crowds to gawk, no eyes to peer, just pacing, ever pacing, from mirror to mirror. No dishes washed, all dust on floor, sailing small studio door-to-door. All pauses brief to Howl or stroke, while contemplating going broke. All mussed up hair and *** pajamas; all condiments and no bananas. The sunlight dim, the sea all grey, while pacing afternoons away. The clock tic-toc, the dyer sounds, but pacing, ever pacing, pacing bound.

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Jun 1, 2013

Jun 1, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC

Pacing pacing to-and-fro, speaking aloud with cat in tow. Ranting,raving,shouting,craving, whispering a secret all hush and low. No crowds to gawk, no eyes to peer, just pacing, ever pacing, from mirror to mirror. No dishes washed, all dust on floor, sailing small studio door-to-door. All pauses brief to Howl or stroke, while contemplating going broke. All mussed up hair and *** pajamas; all condiments and no bananas. The sunlight dim, the sea all grey, while pacing afternoons away. The clock tic-toc, the dyer sounds, but pacing, ever pacing, pacing bound.

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I hate the night and it's untimely creations. The avalanche of loose words doused on closed eyes, begging to be assembled into flowing images or melodic alliterated sentences. Adjectives lurk under sealed eyelids. Verbs implore the body to respond. Mocking my stillness they urge limbs to act out in their name. Verses arrange and rearrange of their own accord. They ebb and flow. I'm too tired to grab them all. Why now, when I crave nothing but sleep? Why can't I conjure this brainstorm in waking hours. I grab a pen to write; semi-conscious. It all jumbles into nonsense. The dream state draws me back to act out unconscious intentions. I hate the night and all its promises; Its lyrical musings behind twitching eyelids.

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Nov 25, 2014

Nov 25, 2014 at 6:26 AM UTC

I hate the night and it's untimely creations. The avalanche of loose words doused on closed eyes, begging to be assembled into flowing images or melodic alliterated sentences. Adjectives lurk under sealed eyelids. Verbs implore the body to respond. Mocking my stillness they urge limbs to act out in their name. Verses arrange and rearrange of their own accord. They ebb and flow. I'm too tired to grab them all. Why now, when I crave nothing but sleep? Why can't I conjure this brainstorm in waking hours. I grab a pen to write; semi-conscious. It all jumbles into nonsense. The dream state draws me back to act out unconscious intentions. I hate the night and all its promises; Its lyrical musings behind twitching eyelids.

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No brain, Brainstorm. Storm door, Door opens, Opens mind, Mindset. Set tone Set mood, Set themes Setting, Set words Set stanzas. Set backs? Set match. Match Mix Patch fix Large risks Lines brisk Heart ticks Beats quick. Darwinist Poetry is.

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Aug 29, 2014

Aug 29, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC

Evolution of the Wordsmith

No brain, Brainstorm. Storm door, Door opens, Opens mind, Mindset. Set tone Set mood, Set themes Setting, Set words Set stanzas. Set backs? Set match. Match Mix Patch fix Large risks Lines brisk Heart ticks Beats quick. Darwinist Poetry is.

Continue reading...