"compute" poems
I know not how many
million stars there are.
But I know there is
only one earth.
Maybe we have counted
the protons of the atom
as many it has in its nucleus
counted the electrons on the run
orbiting the nucleus.
But the spinning circle is a zero
yet to compute the unifying one!
It's a pattern spans the universe.
I know there are
billions of us human
out there on earth.
But all I want is only one.
Just to count on
a permanent one!
The big earth
is a bigger zero null.
Standing on barefoot
without the perpetual one.
No glue, no roof nor a sign
only on one pure rigid science!
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 1:06 AM UTC
I do not identify myself as a black american
I do not identify myself as an activist
I do not identify myself
As anything other than what I am
Do not arbitrate my existence
It will only magnify your bigotry
Do not lecture me
It will not ratify your ministry
Do not objectify my identity
Do not marginalize my sincerity
I know your criticism
It will not dwindle me
I am defiantly deaf to it
It will not compute
Trust me
It will only intensify
What I occupy
Do not subject me to anomaly
Do not try and direct me
I will not comply
Do not concern yourself
with my essentiality
I am not lost
Do not concern yourself
With what defines me
Just ask
If I am willing and able.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
I want to be your abacus baby,Oh you can count on me.
I wont say that i love you, or i heart you, I less than 3 you.
Your molecules must be moving fast,girl. Cause your really hot.
Are you igneous sedimentary or metamorphic? All i know is baby you rock.
And if god existed I'd thank him for you, but I'm rational and read a lot of Sam Harris.
Your beautiful like the font garamad,but i want to see you sandarac, take your pants off.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,
And i observe your quirks oscillating, and I'm formulating, a g-string theory..
Like an archeologist,I'm gonna try and compute your age. cause i really want to date you.
You make me feel like a male giraffe. I want to nudge your **** and make you urinate,and mate you.
Scientific fact,thats what they do.
The value of my love for you cannot be expressed exactly. More rational then Pi.
Hey **** is a legitimate word in scrabble, just FYI
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
You can **** me into your super massive black hole, the center of your galaxy. Im talkin ******
I may not be the strongest or the prettiest, but my knowledge of grammar shines.
I know how to use the words further and farther..correctly. Every fricken time.
Example:farther indicates physical distance
and further a depth or degree
example: the moon is getting farther from the earth
about 4 centimeters annually. Fun factoid,take it home with ya.
You just keep getting further into my heart.
You just keep getting farther into my heart.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,and if the situation is ambiguous, further and farther can be used interchangeably. Just a fun factoid.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
Baby i less than 3 you.
So please take off your pants.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
I can't compute and become mute
When you walk by
My circuitry is fried
Because your program is an encryption
And your pulse is electromagnetic
My car dies, so does my phone, so does my home
I'm immobilized
And demoralized
By immoral ties
To temporary generators
They're validating veneraters
Ultimately unsatisfying
When you're still not buying
I'm attracted to your charge
Until there's a battery
Yet you're the cure to your lure
The EMT for your EMP
Your negative charge casts a cloud around my nucleus
But if you could be positive for a change
We could meet in the middle
And feel energy in our synergy
But as soon as I feel electricity between us
You shut me down
With your EMP
I can't get free
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC
How quiet the night is
I say as I loudly tap
On my phone
Erasing and rewriting
Statuses
Only to realize
You can't be profound on facebook
Society has made sure of that.
This handy dandy
Mini pocket computer
Connects me to the world,
It assures that never will I
Never can I
Be alone.
Yet as I scroll
Through the friends list,
The contacts,
The snapchat stories,
Endless feeds,
Its clear I am only one person
Out of billions.
Barely noticeable.
Its hard to be unique
When all the clever usernames
Have been taken
And you don't know
How to use emojis.
I do not compute,
Nor do I really want to.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
We snap a shameless selfie
And post at once online.
Me and wifey smiling sweet
Whilst we play or dine!
Now some say it quite conceited
To paste one's mugs so much.
But we know its really just
More modernly in touch.
It took a bit to email,
And then to switch to text -
Now it's all on Facebook.
Who knows what will be next?
So easy on our selfies
It's really not self toot
It's more about assuring
We still live and compute.
(C) 2011 All rights reserved
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
There was something
strange about your
demeanor
like you were
trying to place me
but couldn't quite
figure out where...
Listen.
I'm not easily
placed.
I can't be easily
figured out.
My ******
expressions
and body language
are incongruous
nonsense.
My body itself
is a polygon
with undefined
sides and length.
You'll never calculate.
You'll think you have the
answer a dozen times
before you do, and
then you still won't.
We all know you're
predictable as **** but
I'm not.
I don't compute.
I am not a number.
I am more like a force.
A deep feeling in
your gut you ignore.
That you follow and then question.
The purpose of a pilgrimage
that started with someone different.
Just go with it.
I am good at ********** yes.
Once you've kissed my holy *******
there is nothing more to discover.
You'll know me inside and out.
Touched me in a way no one else has...laughs
Let's just go with that.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:23 AM UTC
Robot
Tincan man.
Input, circuit, overdrive.
Shadow of the future and past.
Movement hidden, you are not alive.
Programs still running fast.
What else can you do?
Wake up by morning not able to read the news.
Passing a breeze God gave to you.
Barely feeling the I love you's.
Your data has been set to self destruct.
Walking around all confused.
While your memory is set on stuck.
A heart not made to rust.
Hanging laundry out in the rain.
Lazy technician you can not trust.
Look what hes made out of you.
Ready to blow your ******
Compute- abort- system to self destroy.
Restoring the joy ****** out of you.
Input: input: information .
Wipe out the old, store in new.
Delete all files to recycle bin.
System reboot to life again.
With a new program that reads:
Feeling like a human once again.
(This robot is on)
.(self shut down!)
Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 3:56 PM UTC
/ *oh no no no... you don't get a jew artefact at this point, when the play of words comes between the son and the mother... no no no... you're target; she should be a **** a stripper, a ***** but when you do what this, "englishman" did? undermining the concept of personal property? ownership? his property infringes on your property, and somehow: my, yours, our's doesn't compute... i'm ******* craving to **** my neighbour... because all i have left to lose is... frothing at the mouth.*
at a supermarket:
within the confines
of a cashier:
- 'is this your typical
friday night?'
say it plain, chubby...
**** it: more cushion
for the pushin'...
sunglasses at 6am?
a reply:
- 'it could be'
- 'if you were part of it'
- 'what?'
i'd love to fiddle with excesses
of porky...
migrant crisis?
more like a ***** cricis...
import black ****
given the white boy lay low...
it's not even funny,
i find it funny attempting
to whistle...
which i can't,
given that i found laughter...
just don't come between me
and mt "neighbour":
cos i'll **** the ******* ****
and "he's" watching me?
sorry:
i'll **** the ******* ****
fuck-face-tard!
no, i will;
i can't conceive retaining
the anglophone aspect of comedy
within the confines
of the monologue,
with a cabaret....
i'll **** him...
next time we exfoliates
speaking to my mother,
and not... looking
into my eyes...
"englishman": spew!
you! now! clean up this
***********
******* english!
like you bred a people,
gesticulating with
a hand gesture...
new yankies...
britain: home,
of the the wankies.
p.s.
no... private property contra
private property
within this ****** vogue...
i seriouslly will throw
a **** into his garden,
and say...
not enough fox hunting,
d'uh!
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
I see you around sometimes.
More often than not,
Beginning just before the sun sets
Hiding until dawn brings forth a new day.
I’m not quite sure I understand how
You make me feel as if I’ve lost my touch,
My tether to reality
Like the earth is threatening to open up
And swallow me whole
Or to cause everything I love to disappear.
Vanish into thin air, never to re-appear.
I used to be deathly afraid of those days.
Of the flashbacks
Of my overactive imagination.
That just kept running, with my mind
Somehow dragging very far behind.
I was scared.
I mean, who wouldn’t be?
Of course, don't be mistaken
There are those bright and sunny days.
Where I think I’ve overcome it in some ways.
And yet on an unsuspecting day
I will happen to fall flat on my face,
And everything feels out of control.
While the world spins too fast
For my brain to compute, and
I feel broken.
Like a record running on repeat.
Skipping and skipping.
Scared of letting go.
Terrified of moving on.
Am I stuck in this loveless mood?
In this gloomy wasteland
Where my heart feels heavy.
I long to feel the sun
Shining on my face.
If not perhaps once again,
Just to chase away the
Darkness,
That I can’t seem to escape.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 3:31 AM UTC
Look at the clouds
Look how they move for you.
Look at the crowd
their words they're saying to you.
Parking full, so no cars to chase
but still let's lie down here
make the world stationery in our heads.
Let's just forget all common sense and
leave elephants about the place.
Words that lack sentiment
yet need to validate.
Look at your verbs,
so in demand, so imperative!
The notion of emotion
is unable to compute.
A cacophony of love without solitude.
Signs without direction
on a two way street.
Let's go to outer space
as our bodies collide like the big bang
The moon will be too modest to shine in
the presence of your face.
Look at the clouds
look how they move for you
so the stars can disperse through
through for you.
When I look into your eyes
I see the world as it should be
before mankind got to grips with machinery.
Your ****** expression reads like a deer in headlights
as you make headlines on the evening news,
my daily summary of events that happen
in the life of me, myself and caffeine.
I'm aware that I'm the legs to your table
but I'm not so stable, I'm about to break.
I'm the root the keeps your grounded
but the soils getting dry.
Sun-lights long shone from our skies
and we can't photosynthesise
when your stork lacks a spine of support.
It's a cycle that needs to change,
If our fruits to ripe.
So, put a pipe in your gripe
and learn the twelve letter word.
So the ship can get a sail.
Look at the crowd
the words they're screaming at you.
Look how they turn around wearing my face
then disappear.
When I look in to your eyes
I see the world before it lost it's
innocence.
What do you see when you look in mine?
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
For Atheists, God does not compute
And religious fervour does not suit.
Believers, on the other hand
Keep their heads down in the sand.
Both camps are certain they are right,
Faiths for which they’re willing to fight
And die.
Well maybe not the Atheists
It must be said:
They stick to logic,
Ruled by the head.
For me I’m baffled why these folk are so certain.
We won’t know The Truth ‘til the Final Curtain.
I guess an Agnostic I’ll always be,
So let’s sit down for a cuppa tea.
Paul Butters
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
Minions marching to the pied pipers flute.
Sheep herded, dressed in fancy suits.
Walking amongst the crowd.
I wonder if I'm allowed.
To buck the trend.
The rules we bend.
When It's hard for us to compute.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
If I witnessed a trillion shooting stars,
each wish would be the same.
Make me
normal.
~
Most times I am bitter,
annoyed,
and slightly puzzled,
by the world's sensitivity.
But then sometimes a rush of every feeling ever once felt by anyone comes rushing in, around, up, down, here, there,
everywhere
and I get the wind knocked out of me from its force
and I can't breathe from the shock of it scouring my circulatory system
and I can't compute
euphoria,
fury,
despair,
as they all comes at once like bullets through my brain.
I'm left breathless, trembling, dying, with myriad thoughts but only one question.
Is it better to feel everything or nothing at all?
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
They are both orange or gingers, as in my dreams
both crazy and funny, like you and me
and in our faces, in the morning, they won't scream.
In the apartment we'll never split rent together,
between the rooms we'll never kiss in
the kitchen we'll never cook in, not for each other.
The litter boxes we won't take turns to clean
the food bowls we won't refill, like you and I never did
wiping mirrors until they glisten and gleam
and looking back now, it's a relief indeed
The bills we won't compute, pay and solve,
the fights that we'll never have.
I find comfort in our inexistent marital issues
and the divorce that we'll never have to encounter.
Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 8:02 AM UTC
Flustered in gumboots,
No way to compute
The full weight of the drops
That saturate her scalp
And seem to soak right through
To her clouded brain,
Where thunder roars
And lightning scours
Until she smells burning flesh;
While she spins, confused
The sky seems quite amused
For there is nothing
But sunshine and blue.
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
Learn Advanced Math! Lines to Polygons
Curves, Circles, Angles to Polyhedrons
Challenge yourself with Algebraic Expression
Solve Polynomials & Linear Equations
Do Sampling Techniques, compute Data’s Central Tendency
Test their Correlations & Probability
Study Linear Function by f(x) = mx + b
And Quadratic Function by f(x) = ax2 + bx + c
There are also functions that are Polynomial
Periodic, Logarithmic & Exponential!
-09/04/2016
(Dumarao)
*GEN Poems
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
if love is a battlefield,
than my mind must be Chernobyl.
a nuclear war zone,
befitting,
I spent years developing a nuclear war head,
that can find lodging in your head.
it lays resident on the pillow on my bed,
my childhood shed,
while bad memories flow like a water drain up ahead,
and may remain with me until death.
maybe such a stigma on depression exists,
because no one still really knows what it is
hell, my mind can compute equations,
spit out essays,
but mental illness?
to solve mine would be aimless.
it lurks, it attacks, it burns
left like a forest fire to churn.
eats up your insides, you feel your ending coming close,
with no conclusiveness a doctor can diagnose.
only if life came with an easy mode,
maybe i'd be better off dealing with this alone.
this is for all the kids
who made Adam's song their song,
or find reprieve at the bottom of a ****
and find life a little bit too long.
can you hear the siren?
three, two...
seconds to eruption
one...
boom.
no time to snooze.
i wake and
immediately collapse into
pieces.
scattered,
in the people i will encounter today
until i come home
empty,
no parts of me left to be seen.
until i finally fall in bed,
close my eyes,
count 1, 2, 3,
and do it
all over again.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
i am a robot
a cognizant machine
powered by electricity and
programmed from birth
regurgitating how to think
dress act talk
by television monitors
Salvation is dividing by 0
Originality
404: page not found
Error
Err0r
The perplexing complexities
To translate in text
unnerving absurdity
Indexing apex
If ever I were so politely inclined
to initiate self-destruct sequence
in 5... 4... 3... 2...
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
From love I love a thousand things
but only two or three,
make my heart skip a beat,
melt and drain to feet.
The things in love we overrate
confuse and startle me.
Making out is great and all
but truly you believe?
That touching lips is better than,
holding hands and cheeky grins.
I believe love's greatest things
are silent, private, natural, free.
You know they know you missed a beat
and they know you know they did too.
In that brief and perfect moment,
brain shuts down; instincts cue.
Losing track,
left foot next,
right foot
left foot
stop, and - back.
Brain loads up,
lungs take air,
right foot
left foot
stop - relax.
In those brief and perfect moments,
when your heart drains to your foot,
you know love's worth the tricky
bits before and after put.
The moment after brain reboots
and lungs take air and feet compute.
Just before your head is clear,
you're sober and your thoughts adhere.
You're dizzy, almost, not severe,
in a word, your world - ideal.
For me, maybe, love is near?
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 7:34 PM UTC
I didn't do much today
I just laid around
I thought about cooking breakfast
But didn't
Even though the kitchen is ten feet away
I can't seem to start a fire
Internally or externally
Story of my life
Just laying around
Can't be found
Phone on vibrate
Mouth on mute
Can't function
Brain wont compute
I could be making easy money
Leasing out apartments
But I don't care about the loot
I just hold onto dollars until the eagle grins anyways
Comfort
I prefer sleep over money any day
Its free
And if you get lucky you'll get a movie in your head
So I lay
I lay all day
I lay to the point of decay
Burnt out
Edges frayed
Bed hasn't been made
In weeks
Dismayed, prefaced with failure
Examples set from forefathers
"Drinking away the part of the day I cannot sleep away"
Plays on repeat in my head
Followed by,
"I woke up this morning and I grabbed myself a beer"
I should really fire the DJ in my head
Next up on Shelby FM,
"I'm only sleeping"
In my bed
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
Hello everybody its M.A.N of Bone
Heart chiseled from graveyard stone
Tell tales never known
Story told may be your own
Relax..Take a seat at the table
Gather opinions get them stable
Put down rhymes..Sorry you are not able
Poetry in every part of you and me
Elevate it with fluidity
Edit do it efficiently
Soul spills out sincerely
Compute words like a nerd
Create a style so absurd
Fear it bash it cause its never been heard
Could care less with a flow I'm blessed
To manifest open eyes to my quest
Write like chess become every test
Mind full of solutions clean up a mess
When I string..I bring all my Demons to sing
Nature of a Scorpio is to sting
So Feel me slam! It goes BAM!
Small circle of peeps know who I am
Put soul into flow other poets go ****
A King of Poetry does not need a throne
Just minds to set on fire by this M.A.N of Bone...
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Silver skin and copper veins
Rusty joints and beta brains
No one thought, I.E. Me
Would get to FEEL differently
My mouth could say the functions
Every thing from meaning to time
To the way airplanes mimic birds
But never could it find those words
And yet with your presence
Your file hidden and bound
A corruption in my databanks
404 Not Found.
I can name you every color
In the spectrum of the light
I cannot seem to find a name
In the coloring of your eye
I cannot name your existence
It's far different than I
I am but a robot
And you are something I cannot describe
How can you compute
Even more than me
Yet still have the essence
To make you want to BE
What ARE you?
What have you done?
You've made me feel frightened
Of what I've become
I know I am not a robot
But that is how I think
So with this Will I have installed
What will become of Me?
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
The gears in my clockwork heart
St-st-stutter and cough
Twisting, wrenching, straining
To turn back to our normal
"Click-clunk-click":
Our structured rhythm-dance
As clouds of rust-dust, lust-dust
Fly from my mechanized mind which,
Mis-wired, streams lifeblood data to my people processor
And my sights focus sharply on you.
Metal arms reach but are not seen,
Fingers touch but are not felt.
My mouth screams: "See me! Discern me!"
But the flat iron tone does not compute.
I say nothing that is real.
Nothing that is human.
You stand before me, unaffected
Frighteningly beautiful in your imperfection.
Kerchlunk.
The gears turn.
Oil: black-brown
Eases from my eyes.
Gun cocked, gaze steady,
We move on.
Ready.
Aim.
Fire.
Next victim, please.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
No dispute. I’m not here to refute.
Hardly can register, let alone compute.
I try and navigate without quite knowing the route
but i would prefer the journey even if the destination isn't absolute.
All about life, acquiring knowledge like it’s loot,
I’m on an adventure through time as peaceful warrior recruit.
Making observations sometimes astute
and tying to figure out the difference between being silent and being mute.
Using honest and concentrated intentions that never dilute,
I deal the cards and find the patterns that suit
the direction I’m aiming towards to shoot.
Taking the steps necessary boot by boot
with the idea that growing forward comes from some kind of root.
With concepts both vast and minute,
some tend measure me by angles and label me acute
but I’d rather be noted by the endeavors of my pursuit
so I’m going to be have a filter that shall not pollute
and have words that thoughts may deem as forbidden fruit.
If you happen to disagree, makes you not necessarily brute
but if you feel like me then find a clever way to salute
and discover what ever it is for you that you find resolute.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 8:08 AM UTC