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"causality" poems
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.   As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
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Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
Glyph
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.   As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
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6
You like to say love disappeared. And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish" shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.     Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.     I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I, never ever nevermore, words with friends.  Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.       I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you.  But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck next     Flashback to the present --and-- she still telling me how I don't get it stressed unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.       Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us!  Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican?  Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers mid-day massages "Midnight Maunders" at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!         "and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3   thought you was slick huh, thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared" but she never leaves. She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Ex-Boyfriend **** Boy] (Spoken Word)
You like to say love disappeared. And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish" shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.     Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.     I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I, never ever nevermore, words with friends.  Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.       I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you.  But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck next     Flashback to the present --and-- she still telling me how I don't get it stressed unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.       Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us!  Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican?  Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers mid-day massages "Midnight Maunders" at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!         "and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3   thought you was slick huh, thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared" but she never leaves. She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
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26
Happenstance to the melancholic gives leave the sin of pride. Inbound reconnaissance tells not the bearer of influence. Squeamish at first: a foreshadowing of calamitous bonding. A space between the mark of corporeal and the ethereal; a stringent hiatus That which rattles the concrete foundation of morality is scarcely a malleable recourse. Regret stains the unfounded soul: an enigma of ephemeral perforations. A separation of the unmitigated humanities; misandry topples the writhing snake. Impact; a cleansing of the maker's flaws integrated solemnly. Complacency arrests the administration of the abhorred; unbridled is the autonomy of a guru.   Ambivalent giftedness burdens the reliant and haughty. A flick of the tongue brings forth the cinema mortem. Castaway: alone to wade in the sea of obscenities. A temporal causality allows no mourning to abscond. Negligence is not the enemy, but indulgent wrath. Hesitant: a stroke of qualia begets the end of a maiden.
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
The Horseless Jockey
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience . As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation .  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor .   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
0
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
Glyph
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience . As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation .  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor .   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
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6
I don't ask your permission to make a fool of myself, tell you publicly what my near, dear ones have almost no clue my mental torment, headache-constant, imperial and impervious poetry, pills, therapy, caring words don't pay my kind of bills a man has a job. Feed you family. Protect and serve. do  it well, there is no acceptable excuse. none. was supposed to be easing on down, slipping under. come so far, my soul is old. my tired is w/o definition. the legs, knotted shoulders, body aging faster than I can write. the doctors only give me if's and unless's, contingencies in order to die a little slower warped, reversal of causality, the older I get, the more mouths to feed. tough, this unexpected situation, a nine lives time survivor, do it again? defraud myself, living like I can afford to write, with courageous reckless abandon, when earnest is deadly and Lady Luck gave me the finger. simply amazing. eyes, constantly tearing, nobody notices. Do not ! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. this well, just got dregs left, drudgery ain't potable, or even worth drinking. need nothing, for myself, need nothing. not one object on this planet want to posses or be possessed by. Monday wrestle with strife, star in my reality show once again. now, deny reality. Do not! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. my voice is stilled, it's poverty exposed, ashamed of every word I ever wrote. hush me not, for tis true, write on for an audience of one, on but one subject, a life, mine, yet, still unmastered, after decades of trying. poverty exposed, a life unmasked for what it is worth, or not.
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
Do Not! Like This Poem
I don't ask your permission to make a fool of myself, tell you publicly what my near, dear ones have almost no clue my mental torment, headache-constant, imperial and impervious poetry, pills, therapy, caring words don't pay my kind of bills a man has a job. Feed you family. Protect and serve. do  it well, there is no acceptable excuse. none. was supposed to be easing on down, slipping under. come so far, my soul is old. my tired is w/o definition. the legs, knotted shoulders, body aging faster than I can write. the doctors only give me if's and unless's, contingencies in order to die a little slower warped, reversal of causality, the older I get, the more mouths to feed. tough, this unexpected situation, a nine lives time survivor, do it again? defraud myself, living like I can afford to write, with courageous reckless abandon, when earnest is deadly and Lady Luck gave me the finger. simply amazing. eyes, constantly tearing, nobody notices. Do not ! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. this well, just got dregs left, drudgery ain't potable, or even worth drinking. need nothing, for myself, need nothing. not one object on this planet want to posses or be possessed by. Monday wrestle with strife, star in my reality show once again. now, deny reality. Do not! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. my voice is stilled, it's poverty exposed, ashamed of every word I ever wrote. hush me not, for tis true, write on for an audience of one, on but one subject, a life, mine, yet, still unmastered, after decades of trying. poverty exposed, a life unmasked for what it is worth, or not.
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74
arrested and defeated,, my fated causality, by mine own hand done in, 'twas the death I ordained, when to the addiction of ego, I did, did I, surrender and concede
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Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 12:02 PM UTC
the addiction of ego
some years back, not too difficile to recall, revive and animate those memories of love and disasters, but the distance is comparable to half-a-dozen eighty day trips around the world, many frequent flyer  miles accumulated with trips to love disasters, interspersed with the days of shock and awe believing (sigh) that stumbled, fumbled my way in what we silly call true love, which is really the high of believing that you deserved the easy way, but now know, there is no easy way, and romance is a hard earned privilege, and sensory deprivation can  fool you, absence makes you vulnerable, don’t be vulnerable, stand up right, **** out, and eyes smiling but phasers on full, nonetheless… this not a downer, but a dis-claimer, even I claim the never be sure of the 100% foolproof methodologies for discerning the genius of genuine, when the risk is the reward maybe when your 22, even 23, you’ll be better at true discernment, but until then be wise, there is no saving the day, till your knees are scraped, and crackling and cracking heart seem like the same thing but they’re not do not confuse causality with correlation love is not your cause, be-all, or even the end-all, do the  work on your self to betterment 24/7, knowledge to be wiser comes with vive les expériences! and someday you’ll senses will be tickled, and the aroma of possibilities will arose that dormant hunger, and may be a correlation to another human in the immediate vicinity, a man, swimming in your moat without permission, then, check him out and maybe, jump in, once you’ve passed the red cross lifesavers test, cause the murk is murky, and is never fraught with just rose water, but jump a few toes in and if you’re still sinking, hell he’ll find away and give him the rope to help you climb a board, yeah, a broad tough as clear varnished nails with a heart radiating the nuclear fission of Strontium 90.
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Jul 13, 2023
Jul 13, 2023 at 1:31 AM UTC
Once was seventeen, not so long but so very far away
some years back, not too difficile to recall, revive and animate those memories of love and disasters, but the distance is comparable to half-a-dozen eighty day trips around the world, many frequent flyer  miles accumulated with trips to love disasters, interspersed with the days of shock and awe believing (sigh) that stumbled, fumbled my way in what we silly call true love, which is really the high of believing that you deserved the easy way, but now know, there is no easy way, and romance is a hard earned privilege, and sensory deprivation can  fool you, absence makes you vulnerable, don’t be vulnerable, stand up right, **** out, and eyes smiling but phasers on full, nonetheless… this not a downer, but a dis-claimer, even I claim the never be sure of the 100% foolproof methodologies for discerning the genius of genuine, when the risk is the reward maybe when your 22, even 23, you’ll be better at true discernment, but until then be wise, there is no saving the day, till your knees are scraped, and crackling and cracking heart seem like the same thing but they’re not do not confuse causality with correlation love is not your cause, be-all, or even the end-all, do the  work on your self to betterment 24/7, knowledge to be wiser comes with vive les expériences! and someday you’ll senses will be tickled, and the aroma of possibilities will arose that dormant hunger, and may be a correlation to another human in the immediate vicinity, a man, swimming in your moat without permission, then, check him out and maybe, jump in, once you’ve passed the red cross lifesavers test, cause the murk is murky, and is never fraught with just rose water, but jump a few toes in and if you’re still sinking, hell he’ll find away and give him the rope to help you climb a board, yeah, a broad tough as clear varnished nails with a heart radiating the nuclear fission of Strontium 90.
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49
The circumambient wings of a seraph Obstrepously monastic within Dereliction contemning the Mendaciously obsequious; The bathos of ablution grittily Jejune fulgerating the engrossed. The chaldean lachrymatory The ligature of the darklings rheum, Volently acclaimed The paladin necromancers Circumfluous wintry orbs Ardently accosting the chasm Lasping tarnation fructifying Acedias roborant, Heavens ignoble lassitude The boreal scope of causality- Hells predacious moil. ELEETE J MUIR..
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Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 2:24 PM UTC
The Delusional Night of Grandeur
we, as potentially conscious beings, do incur such fantastic Purgatory and yet we seem indeed so very keen to choose to wallow in vain and irksome squalor- a comfortable yet blind stupor when it comes to the very real causality wrought of our intention: yes, you read right: i said "potentially conscious."
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Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
Such Purgatory
Love is not casual Radical and sensational, but when you said, “let’s be casual” You took my heart you’ve held for so long In your sweet fingertips and squeezed the life out of it Love is not casual It’s supposed to be astronomical The supernova of your life, a shooting start or solar eclipse Something that makes people awe But love always rips the notions of causality with a casualty Because love is not casual! The fight that’s fought in a heart can be bloodier than World War II Where worlds apart crashed together So forgive me if, here in the dark, in this chamber of sadness I cannot be casual Love is not casual If we are neither hot nor cold, brave nor bold Then it seems to serve no purpose Except to torment; like the astronaut with the shuttle launch that will never happen If he never sees the moon, they both have reason to mourn Casual is the word that will have them torn Because love is Sensational, capable, beautiful, wonderful Love is anything but casual
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Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
Love is not Casual
Enraptured in a fevered spasm, Captured in the mind's phantasm, Swimming through the ectoplasm, Pouring from the roaring chasm, Hidden in the soul's recess A subtle, gentle, warm caress So jubilant, it   doth redress, The hindrances which so suppress, The progress of the spirit's wellness, Showing things which words can't tell us, Giving gifts, which none can sell us, Do you hear the bell that's ringing?                    ringing               from a                            distant                                         shore? It resonates from mammoth spheres, In orbit, shedding countless years, Through aeons of causality, And boundless temporality We see how worlds arise and cease, We see how yearning lays the fleece, The wool over the eyes, deceiving, cool Dispassion's peace relieving, our Great webs of pain and sorrow, Darkening, to light the morrow For as all things must come apart, So suffering's, great work of art, is merely but a transience, receding slowly in the dark.
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 9:15 PM UTC
Evanescent
Writers can be so snotty sometimes They think they're so clever with their rhymes They employ obscure words the way  armies deploy a specialized force pedantic, pretentious, affected  on some insufferable plagiarized  course Their wit a mired ploy to be perceived  as bright not so much to share knowledge but to be the one that's right vaingloriousness cripples the honesty in script and another puzzled reader reads between the lines of a message adrift people twist things to their advantage skew the facts to fit the page shrug it off as a necessity of the modern age most do it, few will notice if they do they'll say it's a mistake deadlines howl, time grates like a rake truth is incidental when words are fake another American madman goes berserk with a gun on a spree perfect timing  for the rollout of Grand Theft Auto 3 Don't worry little directors of death and mayhem You've no culpability in the land of the free causality is just some unprovable notion you're safe and sound from any legal motion exculpatory  mitigation is your right as an 'artist'   'till the sorry day you eat the gun the eventual price  you'll pay for your  sick wicked fun
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Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 12:27 AM UTC
Writers Can Be So Snotty
Hearts tears apart, Tears of pain, Coldness of heart, Dark thoughts, Creep in and stay, When warm sets in. Hope and happiness, Sets down to dust, Bringing terror to life, With nothing to offer back, Except for a close heart
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 8:39 AM UTC
CAUSALITY OF WARM
Seldom am I so direct, Like Wayne, Parker, Kent, I prefer my subterfuge. But these words are penned      (figuratively speaking) by the penultimate,               tumultuous, and often callous wordjockey yours truly. As I've said, I'm seldom more than the sum of my company kept *[let slip, reacquainted, self-righteous reconciliation,           regret, repeat]* And today, I find myself writing thrice, twice toward pride, once of consequence. Que sera sera. I'm lead like a horse who had to drink - or perhaps imbibe? your softly streaming sentences, words which kicked like a mule. Remember, I was hoarse, parched. On that parchment, I find these words: I am a cause... Truth at last, truth at last, Thank God almighty...      ...you know the rest. I stand on this principle - that I cannot stand at all sin ustedes your words the salve, my words the therapy. "Progress." Just Cause. Now, waxing on toward the triumphant, anthemic Aye! If you are the cause and the casualty, then each daily account of what might be made martyrdom should be cannon. Am I eliciting allusions and assumptions? Inadvertently, but then precariously so. So the pieces fall, the causality, literary the eventuality, progressive. Aye, we are naught but what we are made of by others. So each concussive consonant chips and chisels off the ol' block. To a good Mister John Henry, my gratitude.
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Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 4:24 AM UTC
The Casualty of Causality
this shall be: this shall be my last poem of the year, two thousand and thirteen, with the muses' permission. a fitting one as well, for the words, come easy, like so many did this annus mirabilis, year of wonders. firm I believe, words are living tools, constantly being reshaped, fitted to the occasion.   care must me taken, words hurt when wasted, abused, or used in contravention to the creator's intentioned purpose of intended good. so when a brother, a poet-man hits the nailhead, words writ, encapsulating an emo shared, this reserves, a poem-celebration! lines between humans unseen, somehow too easy, rightly crossed, guards dropped, secrets exposure, with the ease of feeling no discomfiture. yes, this is the Internet age, sharing revelations often cheapened, boundaries collapse, when no consideration given. when there is no skin, no eye-glance real-exchanged, no feeling, no voice, casual, to do, easy to say, what is the risk, what could be the casualty of this causality? the risk is fearsome. so when the venture is for the better, what matter the absence of the physicality, the tears and hugs imagined as good as any non-virtual, but in the coming year, this I swear: I will be, I will be becoming, I will become you, unto you, for as was written, so shall it be, for as was written, it will become, a beautiful first, a first re-union, that will be. *this notion so pleasing, yet inherent contradictory, aye, there's the rub,* a first re-union of the unmet, *to mark this three hundred and sixty fifth day, the creator bequeathed me these prayer words most easily, most faithfully, as a blessing for all of us.* Dec. 31, 2013 3:54 pm. NYC
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
Going to Oregon: "a beautiful first re-union that will be..."
this shall be: this shall be my last poem of the year, two thousand and thirteen, with the muses' permission. a fitting one as well, for the words, come easy, like so many did this annus mirabilis, year of wonders. firm I believe, words are living tools, constantly being reshaped, fitted to the occasion.   care must me taken, words hurt when wasted, abused, or used in contravention to the creator's intentioned purpose of intended good. so when a brother, a poet-man hits the nailhead, words writ, encapsulating an emo shared, this reserves, a poem-celebration! lines between humans unseen, somehow too easy, rightly crossed, guards dropped, secrets exposure, with the ease of feeling no discomfiture. yes, this is the Internet age, sharing revelations often cheapened, boundaries collapse, when no consideration given. when there is no skin, no eye-glance real-exchanged, no feeling, no voice, casual, to do, easy to say, what is the risk, what could be the casualty of this causality? the risk is fearsome. so when the venture is for the better, what matter the absence of the physicality, the tears and hugs imagined as good as any non-virtual, but in the coming year, this I swear: I will be, I will be becoming, I will become you, unto you, for as was written, so shall it be, for as was written, it will become, a beautiful first, a first re-union, that will be. *this notion so pleasing, yet inherent contradictory, aye, there's the rub,* a first re-union of the unmet, *to mark this three hundred and sixty fifth day, the creator bequeathed me these prayer words most easily, most faithfully, as a blessing for all of us.* Dec. 31, 2013 3:54 pm. NYC
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59
Sweet smoke love affair smoke just a poke ****** with my neck and tickle my throat contentment normality causality Menthol lips a cigarette taste.. flick a bic light a lover and flicks Sweet smoke love affair...
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
Sweet smoke love affair
I am not the one..who chambered the final round. Not the Pathfinder, in the smoke who called the choppers that lifted the dead and wounded off the ground. I am not the Chaplain who holds the hand of a dying young man, struggling hard with his belief. Not the nurse with ****** hands, eighteen hours with no relief. I am not the young widow, now with two children , feeling left behind, not the biker who stands guard in a patriotic flag line. Not the Sargeant, who with respect, present the final flag, not the Officer, with wet eyes, collecting the causality dog tags....... But I could be!
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May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
I am Not The One: Memorial Day Tribute
The Girl with the Tree Earrings stood motionless before the fire. Seething tongues craving-- grazing-- for a taste of her, never easing their desire. "Arrogant." she simply stated. But her eyes spoke more than hatred. And the Flames licked with more arrogance; every whip a louder whisper of a deeper elegance. Yet the Girl with the Tree Earrings and the contagious hidden smile, did nothing more than stare for an even longer while... The echo of millions of actions manifest through the flickering of a Flame, so it is no mystery that the essence of all of history, can be seen in the dance of an elemental game. Still, she waited. For a word. For an insult. For a slap of reality-- waiting for the flaming lips to speak! To speak more than mere causality! Silence filled the sound. Gravity held her bound. The Fire, motionless, searched The Mind-- the Past, the Future-- all of Time. It asked the Earthy ground, but it nothing found. Then it asked the kind and playful wind... and there it was... A lonely phrase hidden just within "La Mer." was all it whispered in a cool embracing breeze, molding the Fire to its own desire-- into a cresting wave crashing down-- with ease... The Girl's Tree Earrings shone. Each branch caught in a golden glimmer as her eyes softly simmered the simple beauty of this vision... Her glazed strawberry lips then repeated, words unheard yet somehow needed... "La Mer"
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Aug 3, 2010
Aug 3, 2010 at 6:18 AM UTC
To Sea
TV’s going in living room Talking about our doom We’re laying on the front lawn Yesterday’s long gone Woman showing skin Too fat, too thin She can never win Throwing up yet again Listen up man We’re all ****** Re-repeating reprimands Demolition on demand Locate security Trying to make camp In independent infidelity Strutting to the bank Cashing in corrupted currency Stock markets sank Guitar man teary eyed Rock and roll came and died Record producer’s big old lies Broken dreams and wasted time Colorado Smokey Joe lights a bone Faded out to the ozone Smoking on home grown Got glaucoma? Get an O Shut up dude We’re all ******* Forget the olden days Give marriage to the gays Let go of the narrow minded silly ways Let it be as common as classic Frito-Lays Rolling in the new waves Is it God who really saves? Is there even one big deity? Guess there is if you believe Be born, live life Go to college, get a wife Get job, sacrifice It’s the norm, is it right? Have a kid, then have another Father, mother Sister, brother Try to tolerate each other Watch your back bro Because I don’t know Undecided, undeclared Run in circles, running scared Take a risk, double dare Love needs to be redefined Unanimously agreed and signed Peace in the heart and the mind Going down the rabbit hole Striving for that same goal Anti- bullying campaign Kid comes home blood stained Toughen up Enough's enough Individuality Opposing mainstream reality Wiseman taken as a fool Becomes another social causality Feel it Taste it On the back of your tongue Hanging by the gallows martyrs hung Climbing up the ladder’s rungs Foul smelling whiskey bums Grab a *** and stash it Looking like your bat **** Steal a car and crash it “Always wash your berries before you eat them and fly toward the sun”
0
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
Pigeon Man
TV’s going in living room Talking about our doom We’re laying on the front lawn Yesterday’s long gone Woman showing skin Too fat, too thin She can never win Throwing up yet again Listen up man We’re all ****** Re-repeating reprimands Demolition on demand Locate security Trying to make camp In independent infidelity Strutting to the bank Cashing in corrupted currency Stock markets sank Guitar man teary eyed Rock and roll came and died Record producer’s big old lies Broken dreams and wasted time Colorado Smokey Joe lights a bone Faded out to the ozone Smoking on home grown Got glaucoma? Get an O Shut up dude We’re all ******* Forget the olden days Give marriage to the gays Let go of the narrow minded silly ways Let it be as common as classic Frito-Lays Rolling in the new waves Is it God who really saves? Is there even one big deity? Guess there is if you believe Be born, live life Go to college, get a wife Get job, sacrifice It’s the norm, is it right? Have a kid, then have another Father, mother Sister, brother Try to tolerate each other Watch your back bro Because I don’t know Undecided, undeclared Run in circles, running scared Take a risk, double dare Love needs to be redefined Unanimously agreed and signed Peace in the heart and the mind Going down the rabbit hole Striving for that same goal Anti- bullying campaign Kid comes home blood stained Toughen up Enough's enough Individuality Opposing mainstream reality Wiseman taken as a fool Becomes another social causality Feel it Taste it On the back of your tongue Hanging by the gallows martyrs hung Climbing up the ladder’s rungs Foul smelling whiskey bums Grab a *** and stash it Looking like your bat **** Steal a car and crash it “Always wash your berries before you eat them and fly toward the sun”
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72
we use or misuse each other we don't ask as often as needed the eye of the needle the sky is closer storms are wiser waters sleep in the seeds of wind everything so holy entangled sweet deceit in lustry illusions glamour for amour cover up for unforseen the unbearable unknown everything so wise like the eagerness of colts So it goes, said Vonnegut casually I am your anything a strange causality a presence this cocoon of desire of course, urgent lover next day another mirror friend in the afternoon a simple woman in the morning slippery oblivion by midnight unearthed hieroglyph all night wide foe and moan & foam of laughter SOS in a bottle but not of wine holy **** from time to time not a dime piece, but she is a penny for your thoughts it is you can make and you can take the cinema on/of my skin let's speak with our ribs for the sake of mimes I could be your slave, but wait when bus sirens fade away incandescence is my name, the patience of graves of grapes
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Feb 11, 2023
Feb 11, 2023 at 9:46 AM UTC
patience
in the deepest part of hell, my demons taunt and tease, i have no weapon, nor will it is dark, it is cold, there is no light, i have lost all hope i have dreamt my last dream, there is no longer a reason for being, only futility tears flow incessantly, the anguish to deep, no respite in wake or sleep, no place to hide cruel is the moment, you realize the nightmare is when you wake, sleep is the hell with no escape the pain is too great, an emotional causality of a soul destroyed, i am insane with pain my safe harbor has burned, my sanctuary destroyed, i no longer have a bastion where i can feel no pain   mother never stop loving me, i will be a good boy, a good son, your little prince, god, my lord, give her back to me, don't let her die, … please.
0
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 10:41 PM UTC
the deepest loss
I know this little puppy, Or maybe he’s a guppy, As he likes to take to water, Like rav’nous rats a larder. I am compelled to mention, While he seems to seek attention, Could not he be aware, How his actions help him fair? Does he bury furry friends, So they don’t obstruct his end? Is a pat on the head that needed? Or is causality unheeded? As this ******* of a fish and mutt, Is capable of kindness but, Only when it drowns those near, Of shadowing his own career.
0
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
A Cunning Puppy?