Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
(for Christopher Isherwood)

Seated after breakfast
In this white-tiled cabin
Arabs call the House where
Everybody goes,
Even melancholics
Raise a cheer to Mrs.
Nature for the primal
Pleasure She bestows.

*** is but a dream to
Seventy-and-over,
But a joy proposed un-
-til we start to shave:
Mouth-delight depends on
Virtue in the cook, but
This She guarantees from
Cradle unto grave.

Lifted off the *****,
Infants from their mothers
Hear their first impartial
Words of worldly praise:
Hence, to start the morning
With a satisfactory
Dump is a good omen
All our adult days.

Revelation came to
Luther in a privy
(Crosswords have been solved there)
Rodin was no fool
When he cast his Thinker,
Cogitating deeply,
Crouched in the position
Of a man at stool.

All the arts derive from
This ur-act of making,
Private to the artist:
Makers' lives are spent
Striving in their chosen
Medium to produce a
De-narcissus-ized en-
During excrement.

Freud did not invent the
Constipated miser:
Banks have letter boxes
Built in their façade
Marked For Night Deposits,
Stocks are firm or liquid,
Currencies of nations
Either soft or hard.

Global Mother, keep our
Bowels of compassion
Open through our lifetime,
Purge our minds as well:
Grant us a king ending,
Not a second childhood,
Petulant, weak-sphinctered,
In a cheap hotel.

Keep us in our station:
When we get pound-notish,
When we seem about to
Take up Higher Thought,
Send us some deflating
Image like the pained ex-
-pression on a Major
Prophet taken short.

(Orthodoxy ought to
Bless our modern plumbing:
Swift and St. Augustine
Lived in centuries
When a stench of sewage
Made a strong debating
Point for Manichees.)

Mind and Body run on
Different timetables:
Not until our morning
Visit here can we
Leave the dead concerns of
Yesterday behind us,
Face with all our courage
What is now to be.
betterdays Mar 2014
if you drill down,
past the hair,
flesh and bone.

into my mind
where the ego
and id  reside.
then turn to the left,
and follow the i.q.
down the alley,
you will find
a place.

where on thrones of
cogitating thoughts,
king big questions asked,
reigns in conjunction,
with, queen yet unanswered.

they watch with interest benign,
over a field of  an eternal tourney,
split roughly down the middle
by a chasm quite wide.

on one side
of the gorge is arrayed,
the banners of philosophy.
at the vanguard,
the epistemological knights;
plato, descartes, ferrier,
kant, hume,spinoza
and bosanquet.
the major forces ride beneath the banners, of their schools of thought.
followed by the lesser lights,
and those,
obscure or forgotten,
who walk at the rear,carrying the gear and
to set the tent poles.

as to the other side,
that is given to,
the seminaries of religion;
bhuddism, taoism,
islam, hindu, juche,
rastafarian, sikh, diasporic, parsis, tenrikyo,
judaism and christianity
with all its clans.
they array themselves in cadres,
according to belief.
and to the rear,
there rides,
an interesting guerilla band,
of intertestemantals,
about 3 or 4 hundred years wide.
these are the few who are  accounted for,
when god spoke nothing,
or perhaps
a lot but the message just got lost.
they number in their disparate clan,
alexander the great, ptolemy, the hellanic masses, seluecids, maccabeans, hasmoeans
and pompey the great,
not all, but the noteworthy.

across the divide,
by arrowing thought
were fought rallies of acumen
and battles of wit
and occasionally,
a persipacious fire was lit.

but there is one more player,
to mention.
apathy,
the great hulking ******,
who for want of gumption, and get up and go,
sat crouched,
(quite uncomfortably so)
on a spire.
made of mediocracy,
cemented by woe,
in the iddle of the rifted abyss.
unable to decide
with which team to go.
another 3word writing
exercise
epistemological
intertestimantels
abyss
ruminating
                  cogitating
                                  pondering
                    ­                              thinking

the subject matter doth
put the mind into a thought seat
is there sufficient verbs for me
to place on the paper's sheet

verbs by definition are words
which have an action
they on the reader
do have an impaction

so let's explore a topic
worth a thousand of them
how I'll express this piece
shall test my mind's stem

here is the matter I shall discuss
without any duress or manner of fuss

all over the globe there is much trouble
our planet is not as a carefree bubble
the inhabitants often observe strife somewhere
our corners of four not of an according air

were there to be peace and calmed relations
no concerns would beset our world's many nations
yet a propensity for war doth  ever prevail
what sane men shall see the wrongs of this pail

verbs shall never explain man's idiocy
as he's ever involving himself in armory
yet a man who did advocate cordiality
lived with his brothers in true harmony

he was a meek man of the Indian land
a message of non-violence he did band
the lessons of history are never heard
man seemingly ever in the warring herd

the middle east is a tinder box of hell this day
exploding bombs and munitions all spray in affray
verbs of dialogue aren't put to good use
an ongoing lighting of the fuse doth suffuse

few statesmen of Gandhi's ilk now exist
so the torture and torment of war shall e'er persist
diplomacy has lost its edge around the globe
our planet shall remain bound in worrisome lobe

the count of verbs in this piece didn't quite reach a thousand
yet deaths in conflicts outdo that number by the thousands
#war  #diplomacy  #verbs  #peace
C Rosser Jun 2010
Soft touches on the inside of my skin,
sensitive to your every stroke,
playing with my senses,
sending sense flying to the winds.

The longing to touch you,
the hunger to be part of you,
the heated fantasies of skin on skin
and finding surcease within.

Inhaling your scent as you passed by,
drinking it in to satisfy
parched desire, unslaked need
as I yearn for thee.

Gasping awake from unrequited dreams,
floundering amid amative aches,
cogitating on your pellucid gaze,
wondering what you need.
(c) C Rosser
Still can't understand it, curse myself, its damning,
I am just one man, I am Jonathan Fernandez,
Consumed deeply in thought, stranded from the world,
Cogitating by myself, along with my own words,
I've escaped through notebooks, paper, pens, and lexicons,
I've been driven madly and destroyed all that I've set upon,
But these verses hold my cure, in it I find solace,
These words turn my soul pure, I offer no condolence,
Please excuse me if my mind decides to crash upon me,
I try so hard to stay alive but I feel like a zombie,
People stare and point at me, laughing cuz I'm different,
I laugh cuz you're the same, I'm glad that we are distant.
So I hold no regrets, I vow to never change,
true I will remain, no matter if I'm sane,
This is my domain, I've carved out my whole name,
seared it deep in flames, to immortalize my fame.
I just want to change the world, one person at a time,
feel it in every verse rehearsed, deep in every line,
I swear that I will do it if it's the last thing that I do,
Even if I have to write tens of millions of haikus,
Even if I have to write until the day I'm dead,
Even if my arms fall off, I'll write them with my legs,
I'll even write my own never-ending story,
True poetry is dead? I'll restore its glory,
My future's undecided, as fickle as the weather,
can the weatherman, tell us that, turn us to a better man?
Nothing's really certain, believe me when I say that.
I know that painful truth, because it hurts my mind to play back,
Speeding on the freeway, dawning on a new day,
Getting hard to relate, this is new praise when you lose faith.
Keep your head up, listen and embrace the somber silence,
Take life for what it's worth and always keep on smiling.
Cherish every minute, time keeps flying by,
I swear I saw it ticking down, I hope it doesn't die.
But die it must and die it shall, die it surely will,
I write so many poems because words cannot be killed.
My words will be here long after I'm dead,
The only word I want's 'Forever' on my epitaph.
RS Williams Mar 2018
So I feareth this time,
after countless unscathed elusions,
thou shalt be hit in the bullseye of thine instability.
And life shall cease to be what it hath been for thee;
naught shall ever betide the same nor semblance remain.
Thou shalt be thrown from comfort to discomfort,
from known to unknown—order to chaos.

Thou mayest advance henceforth with heroic stride.
Hitherto ameliorate thy flawed character and excess pride.
Or thou mayest sink fathoms beneath the ocean’s floor,
albatross bound to mangled tongue, too bitter to implore.

Didst thou not know?
That no wight be impervious to misfortune?
And so despair?
Giveth thyself a mote of credit Mine untried son,
thou hast always known.

Thou art a child no more.
Void is thy license to lie about thy back on spring days,
heedless of thy wristwatch, harkening to wind-chimes,
daydreaming—building castles on dense blue firmament,
cogitating the phenomenon of mind, body, and soul.

I hath been with thee for eternity.
Watching, waiting.
So dearly proud of thee.
Thou art of distinct variety.
Thou canst see what others canst not see.
And for that, thou art held to greater scrutiny.
betterdays Apr 2015
musing on pondering,

cogitating on ruminating,

postulating on speculating,

considering multiple theories,

deeming the discrepancies deniable

positing the petty presumptions,

theorizing multiple condsiderations,

apraising the mediations,

digesting the deliberations,

allowing for freefall meditation,

envisioning the expectations,

presuming the pontifications,

anticipating the asumptions,

comprehending the conclusion,

accrediting the rationalizations,

concluding the comprehesion,

spinning synaptic wheels,

hypothesizing the conjecture,

recollecting of the reminiscence,

adumbrating the prognostigcation,

concocting of the subliminate,

masticating on the cereberal machinations,

of the ocillations, in the agitatation,
apparent,
in an insomniac's maniacal brain,

reckoning not,
on the simple summation,
of the night's wayward,
mental arbitratration,


there is... just too much time,
to think....

and far too little time to write....
expose of free verse style...
a'la betterdays.....lol
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2020
I think, therefore I am.

(5) the possible poems lurk about, here a title,
there a verse without a home, and, despite
cogitating brings no fusion, no unity or home
heading, where the sigh of conjoining both
brings mental *******, organic relief, worth.

(6) the temperature now cool regularity, enough that
a distinctive line crossed, setting from Cool to Heat,
an inflection point of persona, weather, aging,
daytime whispers can no long be avoided,
a choral crescendo, delayed by lazy summer illusions
that permitted us to put off abnormal life as normal.

(7) I think, therefore I am, but I do not feel,
sufficiently, therefore I write a title here,
verse there, but no poem completes because,
as I update my list of people I worry about, I am,
ineffectively yours, lacking answers for you, in all
our present tenses, some of you are on it, even if no notification
sent, selfishly pondering if my name appears on someones list

ah, these miscarriages of miscellaneous mumbles don’t
qualify as worthwhile, so I pre-apologize for wasting your time
trying, pushing myself to go from thinking, of you, so, therefore
you exist, but if I cannot give you the feelings deserved, then,
what good am I?


conundrum.

11:26 AM Sat Oct 10
2020
Rad Tad Apr 2015
Cogitating the existence
Of another world
The puzzler is snapped out of their stupor
The one piece that will simply not fit
Glares at the puzzler
Just mocking them

Aren't we all
Just pieces that will simply not fit
In the grander puzzle

This world is strange
This world is unknown
This world is impossible

A thought drifts down to the puzzler
From the sky above
Striking them like a bolt
And they realize with a jolt
What if
They'd only been trying the wrong way
What if
They simply needed to look at this
From a new perspective

What if
They considered the form of the piece
Instead of the ones around it
In order to solve
This confounding puzzle
AiYo check it
First comes the happiness
Second comes love
Greed and money goes with the above
Uh
muthaphukkaz ain't watchin' the game
Too busy tryna maintain
An image
I broke the jaws of the laws
No more grips on me I'm free
So **** lady liberty I entice treachery
To enemies at the count of three
let the pistol smoke freely
Its the shot heard around the world
Shakin' the hearts of all little boys and girls
In the ghetto **** nation
Taking over  bleed the mayors and council city halls hands
Millions starving millions dying
and everybody crying
Cuz a celebrity died but no one cries
For the innocence of souls tookin'
Got them.demons lookin'
In the poverties around the globe
Clergy preaching Jesus is God and Jesus is for everybody
Religion is one of the biggest war propagandas
They ****** your image if you change there agenda
How many Brenda's?
Out there with a baby on welfare and they don't care
As problems continue to rise nigguhs open ya eyes
Don't be baptize by the TV lies
Pressure young gs to slang keys
End up.in jail next to they father
I ain't knocking the hustle but make ya endz
Then build ya own community
Don't let the dea cia fbi lead you astray
They know money feeds a hungry soul I'm like Castro keep the cash flow
Moving silently
don't let em braille you with greenery
Art of war ain't went no where sun tzu will tell ya what to do
Use ya enemies against ya enemies
And watch em crumble mumble end up killing themselves
While you sit back and laugh at the blood bath
The last thing they want is a ***** with brain and begin to taunt
The biggest mystery is who are blacks peeps in history
And the vision occurred me I'm the chosen just like black Jesus a revolutionary at heart from form of life I gotta bad start .
I see him.in the ghetto with me puffin' **** and Hennessey
or better yet cognac
I'm.back reincarnate
Takin' the steps of ancestry tears and scorns
Through decades centuries and millenniums
I'm rockin' nigguhs cranium
See what I see niggih don't be scared of a trigger?
Hells on earth we living in the end times skin is our sin
We know better but yet show it
Knowledge is bad thing to waste
Uh im.probably gone get buried with a another case
Innocent but shown guilty by the system
Brothers doing time for the dimes the governments drop they go back home and you go off the patty wagon name is ya number cogitating in ya cell as ya in jail can't make bail
Its heaven inside hell I shed tears for many years
Through tattoos uh I know I'm.bound for a casket
I'm still gone get drastic
my murderers wherein'
Black suits and shades unload rounds in my body Killuminati
I'm dead but now resurrected
The father gave me another chance redemption for my sins
I'm trapped in the corridors which doors
WIll I open heaven or hell is just another place in a cell ??
spiritually ensnared
Only.time will tell
Yea get yo mind right homies this ain't a game
Things done changed turned for the worse break the curse
Its never to let the change the game
Just a to let you know
How it go
Been feelin' this way since '94
Pac pain i got wisdom
**** the education institution
They never got a solution
Money always boostin'
While the pistols Shootin'
Government still lootin'
Takin' us back to slavery
One world order word to my unborn daughter
She facin' tragedy and she aint even here
I hear
Her soft cries watery eyes
Baby girl hold on strong
This is yo father so i know you strong
Uh im takin' this fame wayback
Back to Solomons temple and his wives
Along with his concubines
They done perveted the line
Wake up befor we see the flat line


Michael Jan 2011
Roll me over
check my pulse again
I have just checked my email box
it was empty then
I went to cogitating
about the whys and whatz up now
that I think I litteraly went and had a cow

Roll me over
am I dead
my eyes fixed
looking straight ahead
consternated by the thought
how hard it is to write a page
to your dear old dad, your brother, your friend
you know the son of your Mother?
the guy you grew up with
liked the stuff he wrote
or was it he liked what you had wrote
and that you had grown up too


Roll me over
don't check my pulse
I don't care anyway
I opened up my email
it was empty again today.
betterdays Mar 2014
musing on pondering,

cogitating on ruminating,

postulating on speculating,

considering multiple theories,

deeming the discrepancies deniable

positing the petty presumptions,

theorizing multiple condsiderations,

apraising the mediations,

digesting the deliberation,

allowing for  freefall meditation,

envisioning the expectations,

presuming the pontifications,

anticipating the asumptions,

comprehending the conclusion,

accrediting the rationalizations,

concluding the comprehesion,

spinning synaptic wheels,

hypothesizing the conjecture,

recollecting of the reminiscence,

adumbrating the prognostigcation,

concocting of the subliminate,

masticating on the cereberal machinations, of the ocillations,
in the agitatation, apparent in insomniac's maniacal  brain,

reckoning not,
                   on the simple summation,
of the  night's  wayward,
                       mental arbitratration,
i have way too much time
                                          to think...
just a little wordplay for an
overwrought brain.
Jamie Lee Oct 2017
Cogitating our path,
the many possibilities,
what has been, and yet to be.

Deliberating the actions,
or words that were spoken,
which have set me free.

Eluding the dramatics,
my conscious is aware,
of all that I am, or do.

Analyzing behaviours,
weighed without bias,
seeking what is true.

Discovering that lines,
may be deceiving,
questioning the certain.

Enlightening experiences,
much remains unknown,
hidden behind the curtain.
Arnauld Jarvis Jun 2017
During I was cogitating
I felt something silently booms
A spark bubbles it is, vellicating my desire.
I let down my hands collapse
but, constantly merry scared was I again
by a sparks' silent booming in front of me.
Purple, violet, pink and colour mandarin.
Glimmer, maddling, melting.
A sparks' shy bubbling coy blink
Blue, turquoise and diaphanous white.
«Stop this transcendental dance,
you'll subluxate yourselves», mentioned I.
Soon an exhilarated game overtook the chamber.
«Your tingling tickles me», said I and they scattered thorough in the air.
«You should run fast», uttered I, «for I'm going to pursue you» and bit a rose betwixt my teeth whilst rejoining them, dancing tango with extempore fashion.But having been besides them, they vanished letting me hit with my shoulder the window, looking down my blunder, grimaced contemptuously by their blundish.
«That's the matter: you are immaterial» murmured I whilst removing and throwing the rose behind me without looking back.
Thus, looking down, letting a sigh flew in the air, I laid my hit shoulder to the window and turned left my down-bent neck, letting my hair cover my face.
The sun it was, bathing the chamber, cheated by the black clouds.Its departure's time is coming closer but, early tonight.«How deluxe» murmured I schematizing a grimace of a half smile.The sun didn't see it, for only my unshaved chin was obvious to him.
«Hmmm, the dawn is inexorably amaranthine for those accomplished the impossible» I sighed turning away my indifferent sight.
I was heading immodesty to my comfortable armchair.But the sparks' bubbling, squeezing my three-days unshaven cheecks, plopped me to the sofa, dancing like a ballerina.Dazed by the intensity, I fell in a prone position on the sofa with my legs bending to my back, my eyes covered by my hair and my coat's tail covering the rest of my upper body.
Soon, yellow, green and grey, I fell ill.
«Yyoouuu vvanquishedd me luxuriously» I murmured and closed my eyes.
Having them opened I observed the rose on the floor, being bathed by sun's last beams.
I tried to catch it but, it was farther I optimized.
I looked at the sparks, who were dancing more vividly and playful.
I blew my hair,blinked and looked them again, with my eyes begging artificially whilst they passed it to me, continuing their dance.
«Oh, benevolent you are», I murmured having a contemptuous half smile.I blinked.Then my coat were fixed and my hair parted by them.
A rose, I was deliberating.
«I have to be arose» sighed I a blow against my hair, slightly.
A rose red as blood and gold of fade.
I couldn't get up.The mesmerizing fragrance couldn't be interpreted.
Then, I resume my deliberation, with my body fixed, facing the ceiling, bringing my fingers' distal phalanges together at my lips whilst the spark's bubbles were trying to lull me.
And I closed my eyes.

A spark bubbles, tickling the incessant intensity.
Intensity forever stultified.
We are neither savages, nor can become salvages nor slaved.
But we belong amongst, amidst sparkles shadowy.
Touched like vellicated babies by a bird's song.
«You are ossifying the world, please stop».
«Others melt by feasts, why don't you call them beasts?».
Who then luxuriates the corpus?
Who embellish peace?
Lotus by whom are distributed?
It's a piece of blast threshing what can last.
That neither yield nor bend.
What trending is throwing hope inside a spring's bottom.
Becoming immediately a dried hollow which billows.
Billows spitting dust and gold.
The dawn is inexorably unforgettable for those accomplished the impossible.
Constantly, purple red and pink,
glimmer, maddles, melt.
Neither calamity blooms.
Nor clarity booms.
Are we then, not all abiding.
My inspiration was all dissipated after this disharmonious prose.Thanks for perusing it.
Arlene Corwin Nov 2017
Flawed

Listening to Thelonius Monk.
(Give him a try -
If you haven’t already)
I myself am sunk
In heaven.
(or is it ‘raised’)
Anything for a rhyme
Anytime.)  
Ouch!
Anyway, there’s genius
In being flawed:
In honesty, in bravery  -
Wrong notes,
Strong, short, long notes;
Flatted fifths, half-tones the chord;
Finger placement – absurd.
Who can be bored!
Who cares?
He dares.
Stares into space,
Jumps up and down,
No smile, no frown -
He plays his junk,
Always a Monk – Thelonius..
And so I sit in pillowed bed,
Caffeinated (to my toes and head),
Cogitating.  
Letting, simply letting…
Waiting, writing
With an honesty and ***** (see Monk, sunk, junk)
Flawed to the gills.
Hmm, sills, bills, chills, kills…hmm.

Flawed 11.19.2017
A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Vaguely About Music II;
Arlene Corwin
It may be good to be 'a little mad'.  Liberating!
Transforming into another rage
listen to the Sounds of Gage
Plow body shatter blood Spatter
Now the system 30 lbs fatter
Off in the hearse
Tell me where you go after the curse?
Is Written fruits I ate on are Forbidden
Karma hot as a kitchen what's that hittin'
Top of dome head trauma
Who want to bring the drama?
Galore ******* we leave
Enemies drenched in sweat
And they just bore
Me my epitome can't get any worse
Never the last I place first
So I can see my foes trailing behind
Sometimes I wish I could rewind
The days of wayback before
I Knew how to rap on an A Track
Never been never gonna Slack
Countin my Mints
Cogitating?? Where my paper at?
The stacks in Bundle King of the
Rhyming Jungle
life's an Unsolved Mystery
Enticed to Glory Fame then
In comes the Misery Agony
Ya burning like a Match
Short fuse soon to turn Black
Cuz ya luck ran out
So listen to the Josef Cuz I'm about
To get Busy drivin' a Benzie
S 500 with chrome Trim
Keep the Lights Dim so I can
Meditate the words on ya Noggin
foggin Memory collapse noe its Joggin
Now ya taking a trip
To La La Land the Land you never come
Back from and ya left ya Family
On Earth death catching mirth
Ain't no Lie
just a little Snippet of
What will happen if you Die??
There are many things that we must think of when we think of thinking out loud and this is why most thoughts are silent ones.

Old codger cogitating
heartbreaking
when the reaper comes
to take him and unaware
that she was waiting with
his dinner on the table.

residual energy
becomes one
with the universe,


synergy.
( pardon me while I google that )

in a boxcar at flat rate
moving on from state to state
the railway's always running late
but not this time.
Areeba Khan Feb 2021
Falling in disgrace,
Aiming for my worst mistake,
Showing taste of vulnerability,
Having no one to hold my face,
While I quietly say,
"We're going to be okay"

Nodding in agreement showing disinterest
to the words I've just had uttered,
Couldn't imagine but think,
"It was inevitable anyway"

Pausing and replaying these nostalgic memories,
two years ago, at the back of my mind,
Chuckling to myself and cogitating,
"The infatuation I had for  someone,
Didn't chose me back,
But in reality, it really did bleed me to death"
Death do withholds,
The plenipotentiary brawn to embellish,
As I, a nobody,
Could not stop for death,
It obligingly stopped for me

Death made it attainable,
As it succumbed onto me to constitute,
Words that once made it strenuous,
Enounced confronting apathetic ghosts,
But now, the journey concludes with,
"As inevitable, the proclivity had made me,
Fought endless battles that I wouldn't had hoped,
Perhaps, saving my breath,
Scathing utter bull,
Inked with several pages,
From a nobody, like me,
Would've wanted it,
"Engrossed"
-Areeba Khan.
Arlene Corwin Mar 2019
Once again, sitting in the bathtub cogitating
which prime mate affectionately called buttock blaster
alimentary explosion ofttimes causes global disaster
upon such gaseous debacle run for your life ever faster!

Yours truly (humorously dry husband)
can definitively attest,
she (thee missus) nixed, ordained,
inured, espoused blessed
discrete frolicsome liaisons regarding
shenanigans Mister Phil Ander
deviously, knowingly, and stealthily wrested.

***** deed done dirt cheap
trick discovered visa vis
super tramping bleep
mother 62311518 claimed,
he drove while sound asleep.

Risque somnambulant tryst
viz escapade constituting naked ape
morphed into nightmare,
when noose hung around nape
verboten fruit heed vape.

Gamesome cocksure attitude
severely irked first born
of his hereditary brood
pricked temptation concerning wedded dude
frenetic altercation begot feud
miscreant dalliance whipsawed and hewed
antics buzz-feeding carnal groove

portrayed (by "mother") as indecent and lewd
spelling downfall impossible mission daughters
envisioned their impeccable father ****
obviously he elicited false pretensions being a *****
no moral compass shamefacedly *******
licentious transgression abominable however viewed.

The motto carpe diem liberally
translated carte blanche
get thee (yours truly)
to a nunnery sporting about
envisioned foreplay gallivanting without doubt
cavalier attitude hashtagged

yours truly as one preeminent lout
gathering rosebuds while ye may
rather than pout
adapting what me worry playbook page
linkedin to Alfred E. Neuman mad scout
infidelity Casanova wannabe doth tout
plenty of fish aside from American trout.

The aforementioned merely signifies fantastical zeal
sisters of mercy appeasing cogitating human
emulating generic garden variety common wheel
ordinary goodfella well spoken
giving his exemplary poetic spiel

reeling off inane prurient fantasy newsreel
no rhyme nor reason expressing salacious he'll
be coming round the mountain
to quench ****** thirst,
where celibacy finds mine flesh to ail.

Metaphorical libidinal longings I elevate
vis a vis authoring, crafting, entertaining...
juvenile scribblings dat ain't so great
analogous to ****** satisfaction,
employing English language
métier write engenders
yours truly to salivate

subsequently to the electronic
circular filing cabinet
readers moost likely relegate
regarding hormonal secretions I sublimate
thru writing prevaricated risqué tête-à-tête
hooping syllabification harmonious
synchronization doth undulate.
Ryan O'Leary Aug 2023
We can present the past

                            by reminiscing

We can pass the present

                       by procrastinating

We can possess the future

                              by cogitating
Ryan O'Leary Apr 2023
Revelation


What pains me, is not

what I am cogitating

but how to transform

my autistic inspiration

from form dyslexia, to

a version appreciated

by conventional minds.
Ryan O'Leary Mar 22
Mind mill turns

concepts recycle


syllabled spokes

   reverberate


cogitating cogs

       reflect


        axles

   accentuate


  introspection

waterboarded.

— The End —