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"compiles" poems
I didn't mean to distract you, upon first interaction with you, I saw the sun lights refraction shining upon human polka dots I have a thought that I won't say, Ill write you In the plot of a book, that takes place far far away Most times I speak with haste, life is no computer, but I can still copy and paste, my thoughts in a manner that properly compiles grace, and with some glue, you trapped your hands upon plastic keys, and played for me, a melody, and said I've been waiting my whole life to do this, I am alone and I am free, and I will stay that way for a while, so don't look at me with smile, and as quickly as it was created my memory can be cut and pasted into a file you keep beneath your bed, The cold is coming, and I hope you wear hats upon your head and scarves upon your neck, for I hope you realize I am a sled, I don't stop until I reach the bottom, of a barrel filled with luck I live my off of,
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Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
Copy pasta
The Quantum Poetry Theorem from a long time ago, a thousand poems a priori. **Dedicated to you, Albert Einstein and the cast of TBBT, special thanks to the OWS movement., But especially to the few, the brave, geeks who write poetry in word and in equations.** Scruffy, yet ennobled, my own 99% invade and occupy all my senses, in my eyesight encamped sensing opportunity, the 99 demand that each shutter eye snap, all nominal exhalations, every quantum minutia perception, be live streamed, direct tv to you Everything I witness, transformed into an acoustic guitar rocking vision, a levitation of poetic expression,   set to a primitive three-chord rock & roll overture, and my iPad, appointed Recording Secretary, compiles exhalations as ecrivations a preservation society of the verb, strings of words emanating non-stop within my head, from a guitar playing twenty four seven, ironically, expressed mathematically Street strolling, busy brasserie bar, a Pinot Noir arrives, a large pour of stanzas and a napkin upon to scribble mind in ferment but A Capella smooth cool, my bossy brain requires incident reports, a "write me down, please," and no matter how much I drink, ain't anti-matter enough to stop my eyes from seeing every human interaction as a poetic, probabilistic, verbal equation, quantum expressions of sensory upload The brain revels and reels from overload,   no mas, no more, poetry fatigue incurable, caplets and ointments, string theory, can't cure or explain the compulsion I feel, and the 1% of me protests my overtaxed mental capacity, and hear the, see the, masses, the shouts, the placards, outside my home, shut it down, no one cares, no one wants your transplanted mechanics in their eardrums Huzzah, found in my gut, a Grand Unifying Theory to coordinate, gauge  and harmonize my internal asymmetries, yes, a coupling factor required, but still, one equation that explains everything! my fatigued, pointy, index finger refuses to tap any more, my Theory of Everything, and my poetry, forgot, overlooked. in my library buried, black holed, forever silence-stored
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
The Quantum Poetry Theorem
The Quantum Poetry Theorem from a long time ago, a thousand poems a priori. **Dedicated to you, Albert Einstein and the cast of TBBT, special thanks to the OWS movement., But especially to the few, the brave, geeks who write poetry in word and in equations.** Scruffy, yet ennobled, my own 99% invade and occupy all my senses, in my eyesight encamped sensing opportunity, the 99 demand that each shutter eye snap, all nominal exhalations, every quantum minutia perception, be live streamed, direct tv to you Everything I witness, transformed into an acoustic guitar rocking vision, a levitation of poetic expression,   set to a primitive three-chord rock & roll overture, and my iPad, appointed Recording Secretary, compiles exhalations as ecrivations a preservation society of the verb, strings of words emanating non-stop within my head, from a guitar playing twenty four seven, ironically, expressed mathematically Street strolling, busy brasserie bar, a Pinot Noir arrives, a large pour of stanzas and a napkin upon to scribble mind in ferment but A Capella smooth cool, my bossy brain requires incident reports, a "write me down, please," and no matter how much I drink, ain't anti-matter enough to stop my eyes from seeing every human interaction as a poetic, probabilistic, verbal equation, quantum expressions of sensory upload The brain revels and reels from overload,   no mas, no more, poetry fatigue incurable, caplets and ointments, string theory, can't cure or explain the compulsion I feel, and the 1% of me protests my overtaxed mental capacity, and hear the, see the, masses, the shouts, the placards, outside my home, shut it down, no one cares, no one wants your transplanted mechanics in their eardrums Huzzah, found in my gut, a Grand Unifying Theory to coordinate, gauge  and harmonize my internal asymmetries, yes, a coupling factor required, but still, one equation that explains everything! my fatigued, pointy, index finger refuses to tap any more, my Theory of Everything, and my poetry, forgot, overlooked. in my library buried, black holed, forever silence-stored
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..............there’s such a clamour          so much choring     memory thread I sit armchair rocking head receiver of motion     bleaker of putty trauma                 creator of mammary craving .....best take up knitting or wood carving the fortress of thought (in strict connivance with a bewildered host) compiles the 'person idea' protects the fragile calculator                from biting at its own exposed                   and useless self mating psychology                from glutting on its own tail                     and merry going mad                         in a tune of hoops... ..stammering to achieve valuation for our decent management projector may you continue operations falser still defeating our own polygraphs and making fools of our internal courtrooms i sit on this chair things go still thoughts occur elsewhere am i left to not be ?....................
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May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 10:00 PM UTC
...........thread...........
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.
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Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 5:38 PM UTC
blankets
the words inside my mind are jumbled and i keep seeing images of us kissing and me laughing and water gun fights and afternoon naps and showering together and long hugs. and i can't stop this jigsaw puzzle of memories from taking over and infecting my lungs, my heart, and there are ten thousand people in a room and i've never been more alone in my entire life. sunday nights are akin to skinny dipping in the ocean in the middle of January when you're shaking and rattling and it seems that the cold has seeped through to the tissue that compiles your bones and then i remember one am at the lake and walking around at the beach and looking at the moonlight reflecting off of your pool eyes and god, i wanted to tell you right then that i loved you. but i didn't, and i never did, and i never have and you told me that you love me as your best friend when you broke up with me two months later, and that friendship is the most important thing and did i always want to date you? and that's a slap in the face because you wanted me so badly, you were frantic to have me and i caved too easily, letting you absorb into my bloodstream and caress my deepest thoughts. maybe i never did love you, or maybe i did, and i think still that love should be given freely even if you've known someone for two days. and you must know that i feel cheated and played because you've left me, you've gone back to her and i pray that she doesn't take you back but we all know that life isn't fair and you were never mine in the first place. but understand that i gave you everything i had and that still wasn't enough to make you stick around, and i am beginning to rethink everything i ever did for you. never in my life have i been rude to you, and i am so hurt by your carefully chosen words and they cut me and slit my throat and it isn't the best to be called pathetic by someone who called you beautiful three weeks earlier. i'm not sure where your anger towards me comes from but i will continue to say that i'm sorry until you scream at me to shut up because i am sorry, i am sorry i am sorry please come back and be mine. i don't know what I did wrong and everything hurts and you can't make me feel right but you can sure as hell make me feel worse.
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
apology
the words inside my mind are jumbled and i keep seeing images of us kissing and me laughing and water gun fights and afternoon naps and showering together and long hugs. and i can't stop this jigsaw puzzle of memories from taking over and infecting my lungs, my heart, and there are ten thousand people in a room and i've never been more alone in my entire life. sunday nights are akin to skinny dipping in the ocean in the middle of January when you're shaking and rattling and it seems that the cold has seeped through to the tissue that compiles your bones and then i remember one am at the lake and walking around at the beach and looking at the moonlight reflecting off of your pool eyes and god, i wanted to tell you right then that i loved you. but i didn't, and i never did, and i never have and you told me that you love me as your best friend when you broke up with me two months later, and that friendship is the most important thing and did i always want to date you? and that's a slap in the face because you wanted me so badly, you were frantic to have me and i caved too easily, letting you absorb into my bloodstream and caress my deepest thoughts. maybe i never did love you, or maybe i did, and i think still that love should be given freely even if you've known someone for two days. and you must know that i feel cheated and played because you've left me, you've gone back to her and i pray that she doesn't take you back but we all know that life isn't fair and you were never mine in the first place. but understand that i gave you everything i had and that still wasn't enough to make you stick around, and i am beginning to rethink everything i ever did for you. never in my life have i been rude to you, and i am so hurt by your carefully chosen words and they cut me and slit my throat and it isn't the best to be called pathetic by someone who called you beautiful three weeks earlier. i'm not sure where your anger towards me comes from but i will continue to say that i'm sorry until you scream at me to shut up because i am sorry, i am sorry i am sorry please come back and be mine. i don't know what I did wrong and everything hurts and you can't make me feel right but you can sure as hell make me feel worse.
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filth compiles with the lights on all these letdown sunday nights what's in this dust now a forgotten name that ruined my life there was just no other door to walk through at the time i stayed and stayed called your name forgot i was a woman too when my savior came to save me, i didn't go with him he wasn't you i stayed and stayed called your name until i was nothing until i was no one he was my stolen sun, a stolen sun , a savior came to save me, i didn't go with him he wasn't you, no he wasn't you forgot i was a woman too until i was nothing until i was no one.
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Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 1:34 AM UTC
"Here But I'm Gone"
Unknown threshold Randomized synchronization, Cries of the dying kiss, Amidst the friendship in that bliss, Reasonless misunderstandings lie above, Never fading, priceless moments dying, On the curse of happiness, Serene moments serenely rising and smiling, Haunts of cherishing melodies, Amidst the addiction are these symphonies... Quiet silent darkness smiles, When our rare synchronization compiles, There the friendship of our dies, Only for the sake of unexpected love rise... Chants of the operas, Sipping the dying light, Oh where the **** is the plight? Between us, it merely died. In the abandoned chills of this day, This momentary moment will be reminiscent of your birthday! 13th March 2014
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
Harsh Sethia
The heart~ Not so cognizant, Files each moment, Compiles the document, Tags them tight, Flags all bright! The mind~ Everything  it rewinds, Junk moments it finds, To the heart it reminds, To  unthread  nicely, To shred them wisely! The heart and the mind~ Together they act, When the heart is incorrect, The mind takes up to direct, Both  work in tandem, The office in mayhem!
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Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
The office in mayhem...
every writer wishes for profundity in their writing every writer wishes that their work would be the next expression of the ages the next coalition of words that compiles the dictionary of broken hearts and suffering souls. maybe that's just me maybe every time I sit down, inspired, i never have the intellect wide enough to know the words and expressions to express the depth that's been suppressed until now i never know how i wish i knew how to script this rupture of repression into words but it's never as eloquent as i wish never as accurate as the thickness of emotion that calmly, yet strongly exudes itself by silently whispering to me all the mistakes ive made and the scars its edge has scathed just slightly under my skin. not enough for you to see it but always enough for me to feel it words and poems are always just a fraction a tiny little snippet that hole, that crack in the fence that gives you a glimpse of what's really going on but you'll never truly know you'll never truly understand because the words may show you a piece but they're also the fence
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Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
every writer
THE LAMB'S FLEECE Sometimes, we feel the world smiles, And sweetest joy in us compiles. Without a reason for that joy, It falls on us and we enjoy. What is the source of that fresh breeze That cools our hearts and minds can please? It makes us see the world so sweet And all our problems we defeat. Is it a message from above That falls on those who live great love ? It keeps away from hearts that hate As joy and hate can never mate. The source is vague but must be blessed As misdeeds can't with joy be dressed. If holy life can give us peace, Why don't we wear the Lamb's pure fleece ? BY JOSEPH ZENIEH ____________________________________
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Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
THE LAMB'S FLEECE
Faith and fear opposites which lead to each other. Are they truly black and white or brothers from another mother? Since one can be afraid and led to faith or faithfully afraid of an eternity never ceasing to remain. But no cause if you have faith why would you be afraid? I ask myself this day by day But somehow the idea of a life after life does not grant me peace but rather a terror which never seems to cease it crawls and creeps a path to my soul and makes me wonder if my belief has a hole? Is my declaration of trust just a grasping manifestation for something to believe when in reality with my fear of what’s to come I’m worse than an unbeliever with no actual conviction or peace in a greater wisdom? These thoughts and doubts swirl around till they threaten to consume me but my face won’t show any signs of my inward agony because if I the pastor’s daughter a voluntold role model gave a glimpse of my lack of faith will I cause others to falter? These are the lies the enemy compiles to take over my heart but NO I do not have to carry these burdens that is not my part! From a manger to cross and then an empty tomb there’s one who chose to fight my battles and He always wins them too. He won’t let my faith mold into fear and he won’t let these thoughts draw me near. He’s shouldered these worries when I could not and lifted my eyes when all seemed lost. He picked me up even with all my burdens and didn’t complain even when I hurt Him. He didn’t give me a second chance no He gave me seventy seven. While my patience with others wore thin before we even got to ten he said “wait haven’t I far surpassed eleven? Daughter, I forgave you, why will you not do the same?” But even then He would not allow me to be overwhelmed by my shame. Instead He lifted my sights and directed them towards the heavens and said I’ll meet you there in paradise though you have so many transgressions my eyes swam with tears as I asked Him a childish question for I turned to Him and whispered one word which caused him to simply smile for the word that escaped was simply “Why?” And His answer caused me to think for a while. He laid His hand on my head and He didn’t shout but gently reminded me instead “it’s not what you have done but rather my mercy in sending my son. For I love you as my daughter and so gave everything for you so know I am your Heavenly Father and I chose to make you new.”
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Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 12:00 PM UTC
Eternity
Faith and fear opposites which lead to each other. Are they truly black and white or brothers from another mother? Since one can be afraid and led to faith or faithfully afraid of an eternity never ceasing to remain. But no cause if you have faith why would you be afraid? I ask myself this day by day But somehow the idea of a life after life does not grant me peace but rather a terror which never seems to cease it crawls and creeps a path to my soul and makes me wonder if my belief has a hole? Is my declaration of trust just a grasping manifestation for something to believe when in reality with my fear of what’s to come I’m worse than an unbeliever with no actual conviction or peace in a greater wisdom? These thoughts and doubts swirl around till they threaten to consume me but my face won’t show any signs of my inward agony because if I the pastor’s daughter a voluntold role model gave a glimpse of my lack of faith will I cause others to falter? These are the lies the enemy compiles to take over my heart but NO I do not have to carry these burdens that is not my part! From a manger to cross and then an empty tomb there’s one who chose to fight my battles and He always wins them too. He won’t let my faith mold into fear and he won’t let these thoughts draw me near. He’s shouldered these worries when I could not and lifted my eyes when all seemed lost. He picked me up even with all my burdens and didn’t complain even when I hurt Him. He didn’t give me a second chance no He gave me seventy seven. While my patience with others wore thin before we even got to ten he said “wait haven’t I far surpassed eleven? Daughter, I forgave you, why will you not do the same?” But even then He would not allow me to be overwhelmed by my shame. Instead He lifted my sights and directed them towards the heavens and said I’ll meet you there in paradise though you have so many transgressions my eyes swam with tears as I asked Him a childish question for I turned to Him and whispered one word which caused him to simply smile for the word that escaped was simply “Why?” And His answer caused me to think for a while. He laid His hand on my head and He didn’t shout but gently reminded me instead “it’s not what you have done but rather my mercy in sending my son. For I love you as my daughter and so gave everything for you so know I am your Heavenly Father and I chose to make you new.”
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