"compatibility" poems
you found the crack in my wall.
all of you has made its way in me.
beneath the well polished surface,
amidst the chaos and howling storms.
you feel at home.
comfortable in this awkward mess.
relating to my weirdness.
our demons nod in recognition.
we discover our compatibility
in our brokenness.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
Todd Totally Toad
Finger Smell McGee
E-I-E-I **** You
Captain Sally Potato
Blackhole Sound *****
The Glass Candy Imagination Man
Dew Snot
One-Eyed Duce Leg of the Cement Dimension
The Guy Who Makes Sailors, Pirates and Fisherprice men shake their Buoy.
The Saccharine Snake of Compatibility
Yeti Jenny ******
Johnny Loch Ness **** Deck.
Chicken ***** McGillicutty
Blanket Face
Rev. 3D Trigonometry
The Little Pistachio ****
The Killer Doll That Only Exists in My Alternate Universe's Self's Imagination.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
no more than days
never weeks apart
never will get together
no possible compatibility
but you're interesting
vastly different to me
you intrigue my mind
and late at night
I speak to you
maybe it's not even you
i'm speaking to the idea i'm preserving
my mind is drawn to your presence
but my heart isn't
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
a treatise on compatibility this is theoretically
presented
by a linguist with limited trigonometry sense
and since the heart beats and is 360 degrees
I sought out a tangent to measure her with
or sine to figure out logically
whether we were compatible
like functionally
on a straight line or tangentially
perpendicularly
in degree and cosines or measurement mathematically
similar
then found no co-efficient to portray
her smile
fell out of my array
with nothing else
to equal
her.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
Defying the consensus of complacency,
And the enantiomorphic political practicality,
Candidates embrace their vacillating indexicality.
Spouting thrift store self reliance sapientiality,
Telling lores of cultural compatibility.
Hope filled promises of economic suitability,
Aligned with institutional feasibility.
Packaged in over-inclusive catchall empty signifiers
Strewn across all media screens, communal utilitarian plan flyers.
Requesting no need for responsiveness,
For a vote no longer dictates precedence,
In the age of social media endemic presence relevance.
PFL
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 3:40 AM UTC
It was 29° (f) degrees this morning with a waning gibbous (¾) moon. Still, as we started our run, it was dark enough that the world was rendered in black and white. Lisa was a sepia print of herself while Charles was a large, quiet shadow, a dark visual noise pattern.
We usually jog from our dorm, down to and along New Haven Harbor and back. Lisa and I love the ocean. The wind was in our faces this morning and there were no sparkling moon refractions in our direction, which made the water musou and colorless.
I’ve gotten my outfit down to a science, leggings under shorts, four long sleeve, dry-wicking spandex tops (layering is important), a power-wool-earflap-beanie, thermal neck gaiter and quantum, icebreaker gloves (with touch-screen compatibility) - you gotta dress warmly but be able to shed layers as needed.
I listen to audiobooks while we run. Right now I’m on book 5 of the ‘The Expanse’ series. I don’t have time to read anything fun these days, so I listen to science-fiction/fantasy while I workout. I love the new AirPod Pro feature that automatically turns the sound down if anyone talks.
I wear a fitbit charge around my right ankle and my Apple watch as well - they both track my run - the fitbit is more accurate but my watch sends my workout stats to my siblings - we’re uhh, sort of competitive.
At first, as we came up on the harbor, it was impossible to see the intersection of the two dark oceans - the great terrestrial and the greater galactic - but as we turned for home, there was an atmospheric scatter of blue at the edge of the horizon, heralding the sunrise on our retreating backs.
musou = one of the darkest shades of black
Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 7:41 PM UTC
When I was young,
About three years of age,
I was made to stay at creche,
When my parents were away at work.
I used to see those yellow wasps glide,
Curious I used to look at them,
Elder people used to warn,
Warn me of their sting.
But I was still curious,
Curiosity subsided my fear,
Hard to grasp the idea of pains,
I just wanted to grab the yellow wasps.
And as I remember a curious younger myself,
I was by the carpet bed of marigold at creche,
There wandered a golden wasp on a marigold,
I wanted to hold that puny wasp in my hands,
Unaware of its sting I caught it out of curiosity,
The next thing I faintly remember is its sting..!
The painful sting lingered for the followup time,
The inflammation on my thumb followed it,
And I caught fever as well as the fear,
Instilled was the fear like a dread,
I used to remain fearful till ages.
The fear was vanquished not long later than it,
It stayed there in the crevices of my mind,
It was until I was bitten by several bees,
Once it was me and Rishabh my chum,
We had just stepped out of the school,
Someone had disrupted a honeycomb,
Angry bees were stinging us there then,
The painful panic inside was totally silent,
We managed to get to the bike and escaped.
I took anti-allergic tablets for two days,
Even Rishabh took the same medicines,
But I recovered soon with an experience,
Seemed to have worked better with my body,
Thanks to my compatibility with the medicines,
Rishabh caught fever with his face swollen for 2 weeks.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 3:05 AM UTC
Because-because-because it is like using crutches even when you are absolutely well and can jump around!!!
No Bluetooth compatibility with devices of other makes renders it alienated in a desert full of better devices.
Not many in-built free-to-use applications exist that can be transferred to or from friends using iPhone only.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 6:59 AM UTC
Agony of the fantasy, so lazily, with no probability
the ecstasy so randomly seen with eyes of atrophy
my heart beats so rapidly for the sake of catastrophe
so i gallantly step on the travesty of the compatibility
i casually see my casualty through eyes of calamity
searching so actively for a canopy of rationality
my mind thinks abnormality is better than conformity
actuality meets versatility or circumstantial amity
thinking elaborately not organically, of reality
a tapestry so naturally put together differently
visually vivid quality is a visible consistency
no commonality, critically crushed by normality
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
Our planets spin in revolutions only
science can explain;
like how meteorologists are magicians
when it comes to describing the rain,
or the way conductors know at which
platform, and at what time, your train will arrive,
or how doctors can look you up and down
and pin point, with accuracy, where you’re in pain,
like a miller creating silk wholemeal flour
from coarse capsules of beige and brown grain,
or like experienced pilots landing again
in LAX after 7 hours in the same seat in the same plane,
or how writers can sit down at keys
and make them dance into Steinbeck, Hemingway or the holy Mark Twain.
Last night you escaped early because the girl
you wanted to leave with left moments
before you did; and now you’ll be back
in bed checking if your horoscopes match
and if your love compatibility is worthy of a
‘I’m in love’ badge.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
O, come a little closer - hear what I have to say,
I know that one piece of writing can be interpreted in so many different ways.
O, but do pay attention to my word-play,
To the picture I’m trying to portray.
O, I hope by the end of this you will understand the image I am trying to convey,
But do not get me wrong, the end of this is something I am attempting to delay.
O, it is saddening to know that sooner or later my rhymes will fade away
So I will replay, replay, replay.
O, how I pray that what we have will not decay.
Like all the flowers & bouquets that I watched wither/die a bit more every day.
O, but how pretty were they?
Sad to know that each & every single one was thrown out like the contents of an ashtray.
O, how you must have noticed the repetition of O’s - I think they are here to stay,
Unlike my pathetic, childish rhymes that I am struggling to hold at bay.
O, do not get me wrong - the rules to rhyme are so easy to obey,
They are so easy to slay.
O, like tray, cafe, puree,
For god sake, even JFK.
O, please tell me - do you see the problem on display?
Do you see what I am trying to say, what is coming my way?
O, it feels like a betrayal
No, no, no that’s not a rhyme.
I need to rhyme, I need us to be okay.
Ray, clay, Bombay.
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay.
Tray, fray, mae.
O, please stay
I need us to be okay.
O, I know repetition of words is not a rhyme,
Nothing more than copy & paste.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
O, please I don't want us to stray
I hate how we went from white to grey.
O, please I don’t us to end this way,
I know I am barely rhyming but I will try my best, okay?
Look - ballet, allay, hooray,
Hay, weigh, olay.
Look - ballet, allay, hooray,
Hay, weigh, olay.
O, please stay
I need us to be okay.
O, I know repetition of words is not a rhyme,
Nothing more than copy & paste.
I’ll come up with more,
Dismay, replay, is-lay.
Tray, cafe, valet,
Delray, Alleyway, Chevrolet.
It is not that I don’t know how to rhyme,
I just need something to rhyme for.
Rhyming is synchronisation, it is compatibility
I just need to know we are.
Please, stay, stay, stay,
Don't go away, don't go away, don't go away.
Please, stay, stay, stay,
Don't go away, don't go away, don't go away.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
I know I am barely rhyming, but I will do my best okay?
Please stay,
Don’t go away.
Jul 28, 2022
Jul 28, 2022 at 2:11 PM UTC
I wish cancer was a mere zodiac sign that did nothing more then Determine the compatibility of young love and offer cheap pick up lines at crowded bars
Hey, whats your sign?
I wish that love was not just a word, but a fluttering of colors, blinding the brightest of eyes and seeping through every pore of your being,
A word not so easily being abused, used, or broken.
I ACTUALLY love you
I wish that friendship meant once more the pure blissful enjoyment of ones company, never questioning real motives or keeping an all seeing eye taped open
I ACTUALLY trust you...
I wish that the bond between mother and daughter meant more to the mothers and daughters, and that all knowing instinct that all mothers should share, would be voiced to all daughters whether or not they cared
LISTEN TO ME!
I wish that the tie called marriage to most, meant more then the paperwork they sign as a joke, that living together till death do you part meant together forever through the unbearable parts
Redefine Forever
I wish that heaven wasn't so far away, imagine what I'd give to make that trip in a day, stand face to face with all of the greats, the ones whose memories live on every day
They are never really all that far away...
*The beautiful things,
That we embrace,
Pulls themselves closer,
Everyday*
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 10:18 PM UTC
Forgot the man who said
He used to hide in the TV shelf's cabinet
Out of anxiety and sadness
Hidden from everyone
But haunted by demons
He could not escape
Remember the one who bikes at full-speed
Strong legs, taking himself places
On adventurous journeys
To the neighboring destinations
Remember uncovering the eyes of the girl you love
To show her an expression of your ardor
In full bloom.
I want to love someone like you
Someone articulate
In expressing compatibility
Someone free-spirited and sturdy
I want the you I remember
The you that remains is one I forgot
The sadness that desperately clings to
The joy that nervously trembles on the steeple
I know there is more to be remembered
And less to forget
The story I remember is spray-painted
On a construction site spelling out:
L-O-V-E
It is music playing in a nearby house
Two love-struck teenagers
Dancing under lamposts
Imagining moonlight
The you that remains
Is you with your puppies
And just loving the runt
"Maybe", I think now,
"He's the runt and the runt is him"
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
All three lights were red
but we kept going—
afraid of the silence that would settle
between us if we
were stationary.
In silence
there would have been truth:
We have no common conversation.
Do not read between the lines—there is nothing written there.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 9:53 PM UTC
there is saturated optimism
lurking in the threads which weave
between our blanket's thick long sleeves.
every layer compiles rich warmth and graceful weight,
the tendencies and favors constantly accumulate.
this compatibility tends to near motivate
the crawling shivers which slowly evaporate and
the pessimism to dissolve.
then, steadily accelerate.
if there was ever optimism
inside the threads i've long woven
where our blanket's warmth had suddenly frozen,
then the shivers which constantly knit across my heart
have been stitched inside out from the very start.
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 5:38 PM UTC
Abbreviations are obscure.
Aren't they?
But I bow my head in certain familiarity with the letters: A.S.A.P.
We have been here before, in yesteryear, today, and eternity.
It is plumbed in the unfathomable depths of what we call "space".
The diversity of experience is tangibly present.
I don't know about you - but I can just about cut a slice of it and eat it, right where I stand.
Talk about having your cake and eating it!
That is likened to the freedom of a bird of prey, as she surfs the thermals of the Great Expanse.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Embrace the one
Who believes in forever
Your forever
Deeply rooted
Like an old connection
That feeling
That simple
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 5:04 AM UTC
Two
soul mates
with the same aspirations,
imagination and
a spontaneous dislike
of ties and rules.
They
love one another
without
absurd social obligations
or imprisonment.
They
understand one another immediately
and[fell] fall in love...again and again and Yet again.....
Theirs
is
a
timeless
love.
Their,
destinies
are crossed for ever????.
Mar 31, 2011
Mar 31, 2011 at 10:57 PM UTC
Your pupils are black holes
and they tug and they tug at me
like how a tornado tugs at the gutter on the side of a tin roof house
in the middle of Oklahoma.
But instead of a gutter and rain
it's blood funneled through my veins
and instead of blood,
it's liquid love.
You're broken
and I like that and how I can just
wedge myself into the valleys of your cracked up porcelain skin
because I am, I am liquid love
and its a simple fact that liquids spread to fill the space in which they are.
Even a river.
But here's a little disclaimer: I never cared much about science.
I was only really interested in our chemistry.
And here is a little exclamation: I don't know anything!
Except that your bruises are actually interstellar clouds
and that spot right under your fingernail is the most comfortable bed of all.
I like how you're covered in speckles like a knock-off Jackson *******
But instead of freckles they are constellations
and I am a quasi-astronomer artist who believes more in zodiac compatibility
than Attiyah's Sun theory.
I think this poem is unravelling
like that sweater I left in your house once
and I think and I think and I think
these last few stanzas are the loose string.
But that's okay because we're falling apart anyway
like the pages out of my old sketchbook from ninth grade.
But that doesn't stop me from pretending that
you're a Gothic cathedral and I'm a hopeless romantic
in the middle of an architectural revival.
And that doesn't stop you from getting drunk
getting drunk off that fermenting liquid love.
And that doesn't stop our hair from growing or
the universe from expanding or
people from living in the core of tornado alley or
you from lining my heart, my heart with the pages
you ripped right out of my diary.
Jun 8, 2011
Jun 8, 2011 at 6:16 PM UTC
My beautiful walking Angel,
please don't fly away.
It was only you who could lift
me, from the darkest night and
days
of life without her.
My walking Angel.
He talks as though he has one foot
above,
he walks this earth afloat
already. Leaving me fitfully to
wait, in my safely anchored boat.
He's so sure of his inadequacy,
yet I would gladly soak myself in fear,
just so that I could have him near.
Sweet glorious Angel.
Clipped wings yet so ready to fly.
If you were to die, then part
of me would surely go too.
I'm already bound to you.
We both chose immediately to
shield that which makes us,
from others,
yet to each other, we managed not
to yield to the temptation of
our defences.
In spite of the offences of those who've
gone past, leaving a lasting brand
in our skin,
of each terrible individual sin.
Each scar wrought within.
Innocent Angel.
I am completely vulnerable to you.
Usually so overly aware of danger,
I have already, affectively,
sworn my life to you.
This next page is yours.
Dangerous Angel.
Whether you lift me up to fall,
or pull me down to drown,
I shall walk where you tread.
A breadcrumb trail of tears in my wake,
as I am shaken awake from your
dream
Your soul left to rest in the gleam of
my eye.
An unsnuffable candle
to guide you back to me.
Athiest Angel, I was asleep before
you came
and awoke me with your kiss,
jerking my heart from it's
Ivy covered cage,
our instantaneous gauge
of our compatibility
creating a feasibility
of merging.
Gentle Angel.
You took my beating soul
and gouged it with
a caress,
spelt your name
and my destruction,
with your irresistible seduction
of vulnerability,
and tranquility
of purity.
My tender Angel.
Your knifepoint was always fated
for my ribs.
Take me with you if you leave,
allow me to anchor-
no better- hold you,
and embolden you to be
whatever the **** you want to be.
With your battered suitcase of a soul.
How many more kicks can you take
before they pack you in?
The irony in that the sin was never yours.
I abhor those who chose to lord over you.
Please come aboard my raft of
defiance, which is learning the science
of your chemistry.
Darling Angel.
I do not wish you to fall or fly,
instead remain afloat,
allow me to paddle my unshakeable boat
towards you,
with a view of amorous intentions.
My salvation,
who will surely be
my downfall,
my Samson.
I know what you have undone.
Me.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
I flattened my palm against yours to see if we were compatible.
My hand was dwarfed by yours.
"Are we compatible?" you ask.
"You feel familiar,
like a memory.
Comfortable.
Like shoes,
with worn in soles.
Like a dream,
that became reality."
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC