"compile" poems
Everyone says
That trust
Trust
Is a hard thing to earn.
But really
When you see someone for the first time
Your mind
Tells you whether
Or not
You trust them.
Trusting someone is easy.
Knowing someone is hard.
When I met you,
My dearest uncle
uncle
I knew
Right away
That you were
The greatest
Man
I
Had
Ever met.
I am glad I met you.
Blessings to you, my writing confidante.
When I finally
Compile
All of these thoughts
Into a book,
The book will say
Three pages in
"To uncle Percy
"Thank you for believing in me."
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
I wonder what it would be like if the tables were turned
You could have all the knowledge that I’ve learned
But hurt in a way that wasn’t earned
Swap you’re heart for one that yearns
I wonder if you hurt like the ones who are alone
The ones they would disown
A reality you can’t postpone
All the more real when you are grown
I wonder if you spent a day ignored
Feeling like who you are just makes them bored
Everyday leaving you floored
Alone in the world
Would you stand up for yourself
Or hide behind a smile
What is easier?
Facing your fears or letting the pain compile
Or you could just give up
Not give yourself another day
But that’s no solution
There has to be a better way
Some might pray
Some might run away
But you can choose to love yourself anyway
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 7:59 AM UTC
she said, our life is a journey of accomplishments,
That we were programmed, we were trained
For what it has to come the other day
And at sudden something went fortunately wrong
And now we are nothing but some strayed unfixable bugs
That no one seems to care about
Did we fail to compile?
or did we not impress?
or did our programmer want us this way
for us to suffocate enough to
define the pain of failure
so we would learn to re-generate the code to the happiness
that we’ll know how to feel our self
when every sentiment on us floats away
and all we can imagine to do is dream
what would we be, if it never happened
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
I can't wait 'til
Nightfalls
Tonight
I will
Construct nightmares
So insane
Phantoms couldn't fathom
Fantasies make foul turns
Fascination fails
You'll frail frantically
Your chain of the thoughts
Become a train
Derailed
From Loco motives
Your emotions
Are now
Monstrous motifs
Built moments
Before happiness
You'll stare
In terror eyes
Scared as cats
You scratch
Along the wood floor
Forced
Through dark corridors
The doors
Horror tore off the hinges
You're inches away
From no longer living
As soon
As you've given
Yourself away
I take
And make worse!
Death dances
At arms lengths
I've never seen someone
so anxious
To reach
Too anguished to speak
How shall I satisfy?
This shallow heart
Is empty
But simply filled the rows
Of this cathedral
With people
Who payed
To see the price
You've payed
I guess,
Hell sales
This thriller will terrify
Eye's should stay confined
When I
Comply to my conscience
Can science comfort you
It claims this isn't real
Well
It really helped me
Make you feel
Comfortable enough
To sleep
Deeply
Anesthesia
Will be the
Reason for your sweet retreat
As soon as your
Sound asleep
I'll compile vile thoughts
And send you on a journey
With intent
Of you never returning
A one-way trip
From float, freight or flight
As long as it brings
Fright
By mars at night
Where nightmares
Are the day
And you're fearful of it's sight
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 11:37 PM UTC
On days of satisfaction I embrace the lights that illuminate our urban lifestyles
But on days of frustration I am capable of bending that light into fragile
reflections, which shed the truth amongst all creations
Because I'd love to compile a breed of hostile intellectuals
Who, I'd imagine, to fall on their knees begging for mercy from their own knowing
I am an ineffectual
Elitist.
Don't mistake my rage for power, as my power no longer exists
If you can believe it
If that’s how you see it
This environment constructed and was destructive towards the continuation of my ego and I am clawing my way out of a pit
A time ago I was the terrorist of my own self worth, and now I torture the weak- minded to nourish the hole in me to finally be a whole
It's a vicious cycle of how low a being will go to reach a ****** in time
The final stage is to reach self acceptance to show, lo and behold
silence.
where tranquility will obliterate greed
and intelligence will revive the need to be free from everyone else's thinking,
Morality.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 11:52 PM UTC
*Locked within expressions
In this little girl’s smile
Are nuances of wonderment
Destined to compile,
All the mystery of womanhood,
The guile of the breed,
The allure of her ***
And the promise of seed.
Her love for her mother,
Her joy for her dad,
Her path to tomorrow
Be it happy or sad,
The tears and the joyfulness
Stretched out before..
There’s the dog at the hearth
And the cat at the door.
And the beautiful sunsets
Those blue eyes will see
And the love of her life
Who’ll get down on his knee,
The scent of the lavender
Fresh from the fields
And the lakeside laburnum
Which subtly yields.
The colours of love
And the texture of fire
When the threads of her life
Turn to passion’s desire.
The moment of truth
When she turns to her mom
And her face wears the smile
And her arms bear….a son.
Oh the world turns in circles
Of shades of soft hue
And time waits for no soul,
Especially you,
And the babes of today
Become mothers of yore
And the great lesson learned
Is.... keep open the door.*
Uncle Marshal
With wonderment at the beauty in a little girl’s secret smile.
Auckland
12 October 2012
© 2012 Marshal Gebbie
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
After twenty years, as cursed as I may be
for having learned computerese,
I continue to examine bits, bytes and words
and insure that I'm one of those computer nerds.
Program design, source code and compile
followed by walk-throughs that place me on trial.
There's lots of testing - a means to an end
in hopes of avoiding future production abends.
There are micros, minis and mainframe hardware
which are made to work with in-house and vendor software.
Provided are many platforms for everyone to use
and assure misinformation in data's abuse.
Author Note:
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 7:14 AM UTC
I'm seeking to amass a Collection
of the World's spiritual, mythic and philosophical codices.
I want to collect them out of veneration
for those who came before who have tried to illuminate the Paths:
The following is my library of such books of yet.
Entries in bold are my recommendations;
entries italicized are strongly recommended.
-Old Works:
**Egyptian Book of the Dead
Tibetan Book of the Dead
The Bhagavad Gita
Euclid's Elements**
Tao te Ching (I have 3 translations)
I Ching (2 translations and a workbook)
The Qur'an
The Bible
-Newer Works:
Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar: Philosophy explained through Jokes
*Quadrivium: Number, Geometry, Music, & Cosmology*
The Pulse of Wisdom - College Eastern Philosophy Book
*Food of the Gods by Terence McKenna*
The Elements of Reason - College Logic Book
1001 Perls of Buddhist Wisdom
*Net of Being by Alex Grey*
*Art Psalms by Alex Grey*
**The Portable Nietzsche
*The Red Book of Jung
The Portable Jung***
The Subtle Body - Encyclopedia of chakras, auras and other personal energy systems.
Who are you? - 101 Ways of Seeing Yourself
--
I seek to compile this Collection
not to have a nice looking bookshelf;
nor do I seek to find which one is right.
I seek to learn from each of these
the lessons that are intrinsic in our Lives;
they're all matters of perspectives.
I want to compile the aspects of each philosophy with which I resonate
and integrate them into my own,
forging a dynamic and holistic individual philosophy.
All of these books are Mystical masterpieces.
All of these books provide insights to the nature of our Holy Reality.
All of these books ultimately attempt to express the same ineffability.
All of these books are interpreted then translated and interpreted again.
The way I see it,
I may as well do it for myself; draw my own conclusions:
Think for myself.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:13 AM UTC
for every action defined
there are infinite that remain
utterly unnamed and
are vitally spoken
in whispers on the
pieces never lived.
these incalculably splintering,
passively accumulating,
terrifyingly ungrasped possibilities
compile and cache
and compress and comeback
in the saddest seconds,
where one can merely conject
their meaningfulness,
realizing that there
is infinity in everything
and therefore potential
even in the kinetic.
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 2:52 AM UTC
I hear the world is full of pain,
Flooding, terror, acid rain;
Music, theatre, laughs and art,
Whiskey, coffee, beer and darts,
Rainbows, glaciers, hiking trails;
Rare Pepes and EPIC FAILs,
Overwatch and Pokemon Go;
Donald Trump and Bernie Bros;
Dreams, and Drugs, and Rock n' Roll,
Dharma, Love, and the eternal soul,
The Holy Quran and the Higgs boson
Tajwid in Geneva, QFT in Tehran.
Yet day by day I sit and type
Edit, grep, compile, pipe
All that a system smoothly might run
Ashes to Ashes, Zero to One
'''
npm install; grunt &; restart nginx
docker run -d me/interests; pkill sleep; pkill ***
nice 14 nutrition; rm /etc/cron.daily/exercise
pkill -STOP judgment; scp foodler:'**/{burger,fries}' ~
'''
It's rather ironic that this metal you see,
Seems quite a better multitasker than me
Whereas It stops its world to switch one task for others
My open descriptors always overflow my buffers
Whereas it take new patches with a simple 'apt-get'
My resolve for upgrades I quite often forget
And when its health checks fail, we regrow the ASG
But my self won't reboot. et memento mori.
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
Everything fades.
forgotten elements compile,
neglected .
I never thought,
I would be tossed aside like a rusted hubcap.
Amongst all the *******
corroding silently
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:51 AM UTC
If you thought of
all the little things
that caught your
undivided attention
over the years,
the things you covet
and cherish and protect,
those that you value
and appreciate,
every little thing
that you have ever
come to love,
if you thought of these
and I asked you
to compile a list of them,
how far down
would you have to go
before
you ever
named
yourself?
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 1:03 AM UTC
Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos
the trio we know as “the Fates”
Were discussing the fate of some poet
while calmly ******* on dates.
“At best Sisters, he’s merely adequate.
Sure, he knows his rhythm and rimes.
But when they compile an anthology
will his poems merit more than three lines?”
“Some of his verses are Humorous”
“You’ll grant me that, Clotho, at least.”
“Other times he takes himself too serious,
and behaves like some priggish high priest”
“Atropos, where is my measuring rod?
All too soon he’ll meet us face to face.”
“Here is the fate I have chosen.
Take your shears and mark well the place.”
The fruit made Atropos’ grasp slippery
A lock of hair fell in her face.
The poet got more than allotted
It was sheer dumb luck in his case
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
It's a method for our madness;
Well, it is once it can Compile;
And when all the logic's tested;
When It's jarred up in a file;
Counting Coffee Cups Completed;
Suffering Syntax Writers Block;
Hours Lost on Cryptic Errors;
From a Lying System Clock;
The characters are then Released;
Who where Developed through an Eclipse;
And you Hope the user with them now;
Won't edit their delicate scripts;
Jul 16, 2010
Jul 16, 2010 at 4:16 AM UTC
It is time to compile, as it has been a while
and it is worthwhile, to trial
an animal style, that is very versatile.
So, tonight we will do and so-with accrue,
an insight into something funky and spunky,
and do a little Kung Fu Monkey.
But not the whole training sessions,
will be spent on our Monkey Expression,
we will also train, some kung fu just plain.
So, come to training tonight you must,
just come, do not be fussed, else you will rust
your kung fu skills and health too will go bust.
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
i've been living on the fly for a while
a dive from the sky for a sight of the vile
i tried to find out why they can cry with a smile
but they decide to lie and die in denial
they divide the ties and put eyes on trial
hiding behind a blinding pride with guile
buying is their guide to arriving in style
vying for the high life with titles they compile
and i have no way to get home
looks like i'm stuck in the muck and the muddle
out of luck where i was put just to hush in the struggle
cuffed to this crust is just enough to bust my bubble
another **** to fuss and cuss in the dust and rubble
https://soundcloud.com/gary-loftis/alien-report-3
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
i've been living on the fly for a while
a dive from the sky for a sight of the vile
i tried to find out why they can cry with a smile
but they decide to lie and die in denial
they divide the ties and put eyes on trial
hiding behind a blinding pride with guile
buying is their guide to arriving in style
vying for the high life with titles they compile
and i have no way to get home
looks like i'm stuck in the muck and the muddle
out of luck where i was put just to hush in the struggle
cuffed to this crust is just enough to bust my bubble
another **** to fuss and cuss in the dust and rubble
audio recording
https://soundcloud.com/gary-loftis/alien-report-3
like my page
facebook.com/Garyspoetrypage
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
people ask me how i’m doing and i say ‘okay’
nobody questions it; cuz that’s what they all say
only time my words are questioned is when i speak my mind
don’t wanna hear reality, so put me back in line
i wish the whole wide world could know just how i feel
this life of fear and lies simply has no appeal
the voices in my head speak more truth than you
i’m getting tired of always confusing the two
my mind is a haunted house; there’s more to me than meets the eye
body full of so many secrets despite my size
if given the choice, maybe i wouldn’t choose this one to possess
occupying a vessel this anxious just leads to more stress
‘friend in high places’ but the place is your head [in the clouds]
smoking and drinking to quiet us; but trust me you can’t drown us out
there’s more work to be done and words to be said
most talk internally but that don’t mean we’re not friends
something to be said about an openminded guy
with so much personality they started to compile
a collective consciousness sprouting within
took years too long to finally let us in
but here we are, now you know and you listen
at names mentioned, your heart now quickens
beats as one, as we are together
a single unit of several, here for each other
confusing to all but one another
you find yourselves in us
Mar 9, 2021
Mar 9, 2021 at 4:18 PM UTC
She gives me a look likes it’s all okay
As to her it is just another day
She says we can still keep on being friends
As if these feelings would just end
Is it selfish to think I could not
My heart feels as if it’s been tired into a knot
Yet she smiles like she still cares
But to me it just doesn't feel fair
For I love her, but she must love another
And so, she looks at me as just a brother
Now I have no choice but to accept
Accept learning to live with reject
When she does find the one she wants
I hope that I can be a little more nonchalant
In my head it’s hard to compile
That at one point I was the one that made her smile
May 15, 2024
May 15, 2024 at 8:07 PM UTC
Worry taxing vindication
Deep lines score a harried brow,
Hooded eyes reveal the torment
Green of bile consuming now.
Years compile the load endureth
Weighted soul with quilted guilt,
Bowed is back and shoulder bendeth
Round and bound imbued as built.
So laboured by the leaden deeds
Weighted by the tomes of greed,
Cloistered with the avarice
Of omnipresent want and need.
Oh to see a mote of sunshine
Beam between the felted cloud,
Oh to feel the right of light
Emerge unhindered from the shroud.
God! To witness ordinary
Moments from this sea of pain…
To capture the exquisite joy
Of freely given mirth again ?
Marshalg
‘Foxglove’, Taranaki
31st December 2012
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
Friendships take time.
I gave you my time, and then some..
And during my hardest nights, I would give you my piece of the sky..
But I didn't mind.
No I'd do it again, and then some..
I'd gift wrap those stars for you and present them in a candle jar
just for your eyes
And I loved you in three part poetry..
And you loved the way that allowed you to see most of me,
Oh there was my opinion on your ring of Saturn,
And you were my beautiful constellation,
And every other fascination showed on New Year's Eve..
Oh in the space of five months,
I found myself humming along, to your heart beat as you inspired, my songs,
Cause every time that we hugged I felt butterflies dance between my lungs,
And that just never scared you off..
'Tell me your stories, I love your voice notes'
And in the space of 2 school terms,
Your existence in itself taught me that some you'll win, and some you'll learn..
And how life can't imitate art if it was life that came first
And when it comes to us, there'll always be a page, a chapter, a poem
But loving you was a story of it's own..
Friendships take trust.
And I'll trust you for all my life
But maybe that's far too long, as
I don't feel too good these days, to keep up the fight..
But you loved me enough to compile the perfect playlist,
And I loved you enough to stay alive for this 3 part gift
Oh and I have screen shots from when we first spoke, When you told me how my words broke,
Through the walls, that you so greatly built..
But in the next few weeks,
I wonder what it'll take for me to hear you speak,
Like how you used to before cause we'd speak more, usually..
I wonder if everything will get resolved,
Cause I'll be there for you,
That's probably all I could do,
But this I swear to you..
That there'll be no one else who can love you at 17, in the same way i do..
But I know there will always be someone, who you love too
So maybe it's time to give up
Or maybe we'll call it 'moving on'..
Well maybe we've done nothing wrong,
but my heart's too weak to hold a love that's this strong.. Oh my love..
There's a drawing of you, an anime drawing tucked away in my room
And there's emergency cigarettes in a box I hid for you..
Just give me a shout and there'll be yours..
And right now I deeply need, a piece of your sky, a piece of your heart, oh something to anchor me.
Oh when I'm writing you letters I'll need you to answer me?!
I can't believe I'm missing you like this..
Well let's try again..
Meet me outside the gate near your bus stop at around 5pm
And I'll push away my terrible thoughts of never breathing this air again,
Oh let's just walk down all roads,
til one leads us home..
Loving you was the greatest novel I've known.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
It was 4 am
riding past hazy road lights
heads heavy, eyes bright
so much energy, our hearts delight
we were naturally high
He asked me
"how much do you love me?"
I giggled and as my hand
danced with the speeding wind
and my ideas fell in a whirlwind
*"If you compile all
the romance of lovers through time,
the classics, the hopeless and the hopeful
the lost cause lovers,
the ones with forbidden love"*
*"the insane ones, the messy and passionate
the ones who pose as muses for writers
artists, for Love
the dangerous ones, the compatible
the ones who spew magic"*
I paused and realized
that this was the first time
my heart bypassed my brain
and made it to my mouth
" I am not done yet"
*"Now, put them all together
and mold them into a ball.
Throw it up in the sky"*
as my head peeked from the window
and mimicked my words
and pointed to the stars that shone
the most
*"Watch as a new galaxy
is born exploding with stars
each possessing
a different kind of love
that only shines
for you"*
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC
The Riche brothers and sisters
compile the remainders
of Manchester City programmes
from 1958 onwards, rusted staples asides
in a shuttered room,
Moorhens and crab apple bloom outside
keeps their e bay cottage industry bearable,
residual poverty waxes and wanes,
children always inheriting Granddads' stuff.
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
*The dust begin to compile,
from the story you gave me.
The dust begin to vanish,
as the story begins to burn.
It was white as snow,
black as the windowsill,
and red as blood, the princess.*
The story ends, as the narrator smiled.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
inside her room
evening sun felt a little too humid
as though pit of fire,
compile a nagging
desire to strip off her skin.
she wants to escape completely,
from her own body; naked.
getting rid of modesty
from her honesty.
it's ******* hot,
though rain falls in the city,
her scream still goes fiery,
something about this sun has made her feels uneasy,
she'd be lying if she said wasn't sick of it.
it seems like life hasn't always been terribly fun,
and she's unsure if it's the weather
or her heroine.
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC