"cognized" poems
Love is so vapid for me,
I feel like don't want to love anymore,but
When i see you;
I startled and ponder,
Why god takes a lot of time to,
Make a men like you for me ?
Every dames fairytale dream is,
A hubbie who hearkens patiently.
Now i got mine.
But,
I want to utter something
I thought this was a real seal,
You & me were locked
A padlock of emotions and feelings.
I had cried so many tears
I felt all alone.
Its made my heart black ,
Like a chunk of coal.
When times runs out
My heart cognized everything
Now i come from the hazy sphere.
I can sense you now.
You fell in love,
From the moment you laid eyes on me.
When, I juxtapose you with the star's
He feels covetous because,
You and your love is most beaming.
Whem you clutch me in your arms,
Is the best loved part of the day.
Over a period of time,
I got to know the real you.
Sometimes you are my bestie
Sometimes my soulmate
Sometimes my acharya.
I know you,
Like no one i have ever known.
I am sorry if i do something make you really mad.
I am sorry for breaking your heart but,
I can't promise you that we will never fight
But i can promise,
With all my heart
I will always love you and never leave you.
When i say adieu, promise me you won't cry,
Bcz the day i will be saying farewell,
Is the day i die.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
A girl sat on damp grass all alone at night
The Moon was glowing with all its might
Cool, scented zephyr blew petals and leaves
The only music was that of the swooshing trees
And an occasional howl from far, far away
Nothing was even the slightest bit awry
Except for that girl, who was lonely and sad
The dew had wet the attire in which she was clad
Her big, glassy eyes stared glumly at the moon
The long winter night seemed far from ending soon
Feelings of envy were sparking inside her
She thought how fortunate the moon and stars were
They knew exactly what they were supposed to do
They didn't have to figure out what was true
In this messed up world filled with illusions
Around every corner there are deceptions
Tears trickled down her cheeks as her patience gave way
She wanted to seek her Lord but knew she was far away
Her existence was shackled in frailty and hopelessness
She felt as if nothing could save her from this distress
How was she supposed to keep track of her whole life?
It wasn't a bed of roses to deal with this strife
Good and bad sound easy to choose from
But in reality web of life is spun way beyond the norm
The worst thing was that she had to do it on her own
No one else could go in her place to atone
For the sins or bear the agony of the punishments
Which she would be subjected to for her transgressions
Her forlorn desire was to achieve redemption
But she was afraid it might never happen
Life was too elaborate how could she resist?
The temptations and illusions enshrouded her like mist
Waging a war more fearsome than one can imagine
Against the desires in her heart that were lodged in
There was majestic light and there was awful darkness
She knew, light she had to embrace and the dark, harness
If she let the darkness win she would be lead to ruin
Giving up was, in no wise an option
She knew not what the future would be
All she could do was try and leave the rest be
Would her worries be over and her goal achieved?
That was something only her Lord cognized
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Were your mind the soil from which words rise,
autochthonic,
filled with meaning-ment-al
ready to write asif
you exist, dear reader, and know
autochthonic
people are some different from
Gaijins, gegenes, genetical offspring of Gaia,
I imagine, gollum mud men, goy-soulish sorts,
were, once thought,
asreal as death itself, by those in the know;
but
we never know ever, ever being as it is and
this being mortality,
the act of dying,
asif we were seeds, words whispered in darkness,
come and see. Buy of me gold,
without money,
without price.
Grace, take it for granted, and grow on.
Become that which the seed demanded you to be,
when autochthonic was re
cognized as some word Nunzio Corso knew, but you
never heard of him.
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
aware of some
things, aware
HERE am I
there you are
near and far and nothing
in between, why
should I care, beware…
It's me,
in this world, it's me,
making up my mind, to live on,
to live on
to leave behind me, for you -
a way to go,
if you really wish to follow, if
you truly hold the hope of ever
being better than right
now,
now. Right, not wrong, right now.
You know.
You think you know, right now,
with no miracles, no little things
to see, with no joy felt shared,
with no sorrow shown in tears,
with no feet a dancin'
up on tippy toes, just a spinnin'
in time,
like a planet or a star, loopin' life
in time,
from somewhere inside, center
of heavy
of hard
of dark and cold… dark and cold…
singer… singer singing wordlessly,
la las and mmmhmmms, so so so
lighten up,
lighten up my will to be worthy,
lighten up my will to be care free,
lighten up my will to be loved, by
strangers who imagine I have
loosed some good in some shape,
loosed some good held out of sight,
strange as not cognized, coknown,
to me and you, the other end of these
lines left to prove, a second
thought… if you make joy, peace remains
enjoyable,
no mass converts to energy,
my taken peace, my inspiration never
expires, each time I miss, I miss nothing
I hit
on another decision
to make.
I laugh, and let out long rambles, through
brambles familiar
to creatures built low
to the ground
at the human
being being being more than…
Partaker of the programming.
Snipping
Re-ligamental knots, religious at-here-
ence sense so common to all here,
re-
filtered feeling manufactured, here
in living words translatable, peaceable,
easy
to use while defusing the confusion,
and allowing angelic angst ambitious umph,
committed, chance fret naught,
take the shot, think thirty aught six, BANG
Big,
nothing like the game, recoil
that's what's missing… recoil,
kick,
to remind you what Newton knew.
Not Issac, Fred Newton, from Weedpatch, Ca,
a few miles this side of Bakersfield…
He, comes up around Thanksgiving,
in the spirit now, since he's dead,
he looks at me and grins, so big.
For me to live, that turkey must die.
old fisher of men, he knew, he'd say
a man's remembered, for the shot,
no turkey ever is,
that's something
to be thankful for.
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 2:43 PM UTC
I cognized fully in all awareness
Coming across her open page
I was apperceiving in the moment,
That twas her I sought long many lifeyears ago...
I kneweth from old
As she still question's what's all to cometh?
I kneweth before her,
We were mirror souls of heaven's hummus...
As tis
She wilt not yet fully understandeth
I was a watchmen from beyond
It's her love again I demandeth..
I say her love again
Due to the fact we learned eachother before,
Before the foundation of thy world
She was mine mi amour!!!!
As she still is
I'm here to guideth her again,
She trust's noone
Yet for me she shalt in the end...
Because in the end
We shalt seeith the stars tumble
And earth dissapear
Yet like before
For mine mi amour,
Again I shalt be near.....
So shed thy tear, oh scholar of mine writing's
So thou canst see what true amare is,
It's me and her
Against the world
Treking and nomadic
To venue's gone amiss...
But its I who awaiteth again for her everything
As tis patience they sayeth is key,
Guess I'll just haveth to keepeth waiting
For mine spain-moon-beam-queen !!!!!
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
We look for that light eternal that does not come and go
the screen upon which life plays cognized in staid stillness slow
Steady as a star at night that draws me to its bright
nuclear fusion, atom smash, suddenly there is light
Dependable as anchors when summer boats lay still
staid as somber water when the winds are finally nil
Here she comes that light that lights all lights
she is a moon lamp and her mimicry is out of sight
Resembling the moon she shines on and on
sending waves of luminescence from here to Milan
Life is montage on the shelf of my mind
I breathe the breath and am no longer blind
Lost in the radiance of a soul on fire
I approach my dreams with fervent desire
And as long as I look for that eternal light, I am okay,
beneath the kind observant eye of my moon lamp ray..
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 11:40 PM UTC
:
your eyes are wandering
the ends of the earth,
all your mental prowess is steering
through the world in touch range,
a signal from now finds no
space to
place reality among my daydreams
in shorterm memory,
no room for a cookie, in my immediate mind,
etched there, to remember
as if touching now
were on our mind, as your eyes
wandered toward the ends of the earth,
filling all our temporal lobes with
memories of never beens.
So now's cookie is written as a been and done,
deeper in the mechanical amygdalic realm.
Now, in real time, eyes in head,
next step must
call on this info, cookied in the past
this math of relation
of vector to angle,
next is now, sudden
re cognized in the future,
it seems now,
as if all this happened before,
though truly, this now, is being done
while I was in another,
in
my mind wandering else where
at the time, evolving
involvement with
immediate impulses signaling
"stop, this is the edge of next."
So now, feels like deja vu as
autonomous lizard brain made room,
just in case the glimpse of reality
needs more looking into.
Deja vu. From an old man POV.
Been here. Done this.
Found joy under the ashes
everytime.
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 1:04 PM UTC