Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"conflated" poems
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough. One wanted to **** many Germans, the other to save many Jews. The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable. Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind. Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic, the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious. Wealth does not obviate death and we know it. Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches, school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable       Crichton? Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair. But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own       ******** While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself. Imagining the world without the self will make you whole. What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well. After the war the brothers started a small trucking company in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in       what happened.
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Defiance
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough. One wanted to **** many Germans, the other to save many Jews. The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable. Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind. Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic, the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious. Wealth does not obviate death and we know it. Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches, school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable       Crichton? Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair. But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own       ******** While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself. Imagining the world without the self will make you whole. What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well. After the war the brothers started a small trucking company in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in       what happened.
Continue reading...
27
herein lies common fault - loosely hanging on a speculative conjecture      than exact detail. mind's prison- asylum. you go in to see furtive showcases of the many names walking without faces. you went in without invitation. only or abstract solicitation. there is something that sinks deeper than marrow, blows colder than December winnow, something that burgeons beyond naked sense. inside this lair, conflated you are with bent question marks to their distinct, curved smallnesses. you peek into the window of my eyes and inside this airless vault, we are both heavy with staring at each other dripping and bare-all, yet this rigmarole of eyes contain their visceral silences still. i stripped them all of their voices and they only look at each other with onerous eyes, pondering about their places, answerless and just whirling in capacitous space --
0
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:50 AM UTC
Kafka
Acquiesce here my love Ameliorate my heart The assemblage of circumstance provides dulcet ebullience An efflorescent dalliance conflated into cathartic becoming My bucolic bungalow made upon your callipygous A young Life’s denouement Your evocative elixir fetching An erstwhile emollient embrocation Your eloquent fingers find their way to frisson My felicitous chatoyant gambols in glamor like a halcyon incipient made ineffable by the look of the ingénue The labyrinthine inglenook lagoon leisurely lithe The murmurous daffodils wink at the insouciance of your beauty A panoply panacea, the half shadow complete as an epiphany Quintessential to feminine riparian resplendence Your mellifluous voice, an opulent offing, the sumptuous summery soliloquy of an angel Cools my soul like the smell of earth after rain Your propinquity ripples the scintilla of my spirit Your surreptitious smile like a zephyr quietly whispers Its redolent seraglio sempiternal in my thoughts As skyward gazes like saccharine gossamer lilt with the knowledge of our raveling juxtaposition a masterful pastiche, the cynosure of divine revelation
0
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
Beautiful Words
the names of all the things here were given post creation a redaction full of contents unrelated a conflated epithet brightly shining atop screaming gleaming see me understand what I'm trying to mean in my leaning italics referential and meaningful with research as I lurch into your interest ringing
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
Hunting
we all remember where we were watching the towers burn and fall knowing that things would never be the same at all disbelief at first, or had an action movie slipped into the news no, it was real and then twenty years of vengeful repercussion of military posturing of suffering for many we watched the baddies being painted good and evil being redefined virtue confused impotence and power conflated lies and spin consecrated truth alternated idiot rich guys promoted tax for the poor promulgated democracy desecrated climate destruction accelerated by denialist complacency inequality more concentrated goodness and morality infiltrated by posturing political pus weasels venal vultures of self interest grasping for short term dominance and then .. complacency pervaded as absurdity was accepted as our new state of normal and the height of compassion was owning a dog and tut tutting as refugees marched across our news screens and now we bemoan being isolated from being contaminated we are mostly relegated to stay in our mansions while dinner is contemplated have you been vaccinated?
0
Sep 11, 2021
Sep 11, 2021 at 4:32 AM UTC
when the world changed ...
Conflated the scriven entangled Stygian Ink burns moonlight scribes Death casket nymphotic neurotoxin Flesh bites tender spots bruised Inhale emerald fire shotgun lungs Blacklight succubus consume
0
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC
Consume
All unattainable love is unconscionably empty, while it's full of "complimentary" compliments and praise lacking features resembling features; they are signs, which haven't been named or seen, and make us human only by grotesque standards of knowledge and sin (which grow conflated). If morality is skewed then the root is knowledge: the unavoidable fruit.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 7:50 PM UTC
Knowledge and Sin (HaikSon)
This crazy conundrum has been conspicuously contrived quite cordially. Of course, one could concede this cordially contrived conundrum could carelessly conflate the countless quandaries causing quintessential quantities to question the conspicuously questionable conspiracy. Conversely, carelessly questioning conspicuously contrived conspiracies as cordially quantitative quandaries could create considerably confusing claims countering the critically acclaimed crazy conundrum so callously clarified as to continue to count as cordial. Consequently, with careless acquiescence, I must confess that the conceptually contrived conspiracy, so inconspicuously inconsistent, conflated considerably contrary quandaries quite questionably and continues to confuse the crazy quite cordially. To conclude, the crazed conspicuous conundrum confuses the cordially questionable quantities of conceptually countless claims clearly clarified as conflated quandaries continuously contradicting a considerable count of conspiracies. 11/2/16 11:59 p
0
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
Crazy Conundrums
The best men and women in this life are not the holy or the righteous. They are not found in the church or temple. We live in a world where religious virtue is conflated with bigotry, racism, and hatred. Only the godless are truly good.
0
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 11:03 AM UTC
Only the Godless
Life, be not arrogant, though some have called thee Terrifying and delighting, thou art so; sowing random confusion, Overthrowing mortals with unequal puzzles of both extremes, Humans, condemned, to collect travails, improvident provisions, Live, Life! But only through us, for thy are slave to imprecisions, conflated constant reversible, the free choice of souls' decisions, Random and inopportune, thy bedeviling choice of hurdles, Our swelled heads so vulnerable to robbers and roadblocks, But cannot thou onfess, rare is thy victory, oft thy defeat. Until we meet thy comrade in arms, our paths irregular coursing, Of our own choice, so acknowledge thou makest our path to veer, Impotent prince, 'tis always our hands, arms upon the tiller to steer.
0
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
Dueling Sonnets: Death, be not proud by John Donne/Life, be not arrogant by Nat Lipstadt
*Conflated afore Twofold elation Betimes for melancholia Insentient erewhile Heretofore We love semovedly Together nowise Enow*
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Hither
flung in the back of the '55 Chevy like another suitcase the child knew not where they were going only that they had been there before more than once, when Daddy's drink turned to anger, and anger turned to fists pounding a boss and another job was lost and the child would again see the lights of the town vanish: he, the car, his preternaturally silent momma, his hung over father would become part of the night another flight, this time from Gallup New Mexico, where Daddy had tried to out drink every Navajo in every bar and almost did on these nocturnal hegiras, the child would lie and stare at the headliner--the round dome light a faint moon against a mysterious sky beams from passing cars would roll across his otherwise empty constellation, transforming dark matter into fleeting nebulae this, his wide world, while a slow clock spun, and tires hummed, eternally, until his father announced where they were going this time Iowa, a place the child conflated with Ohio, vowel sounds similar, soft and more meaningful than marks on maps--Cedar something... Cedar Rapids, and the child knew rapid and rapid meant fast and fast meant soon, only a few more saturnine stars around his dome light moon, soon
0
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC
Cedar Rapids
You were nothing but a furtive dalliance. Our days were conflated with a demure attitude. I’m an ingenue. And you are an imbroglio.
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
Denouement
electric — conflated with the doldrum of once ignited feeling on the russet table work and the stringing aroma of flyblown coffee painting the morning something earthenware; i imagine         women lounging and displaying their flamboyant dresses confessing a dull promenade parading their attenuated ***** reveling a queendom on recall and this bane,   merely resolute, gives itself a new meaning as a hand of forgive    men resigning their bags on the corner, grunts, heaves deathly serious disallowing tomorrow's arrival into   a throb of being in place, folding newspapers to a club and smiting fervently along with the endless waiting,       verses lying cold on the froth of the tile and the wind ripening the brew of      contestations — punctuations in their cupboards still and reserved in hermetic    space curating silence, giving dins      their polished ends,    open for all: churlish boys,    naked girls, faith-used women, strife-torn men, usual suspects,      rebels and the overwrought –   never closes like a hand in cold       or a rose, its face occulted by identification sideways torn, inside and out struggling,       scrunched to squint on some pale light through chinks on the battered      wall, sipping coffee,    mmmm, that    morning ripple transcending the          heaviness of the city before me.
0
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
Café
to merge, equate, blend to send a misguided equality in which there is no equity truly, but a notion that what I see is my truth, & what you see, well, you imagine it, to be truly…too neither black or white deemed colors, (1), yet we con~flate them to be so, naming them all colors, or the color of light, which changes unceasingly, ergo, again, all colors upon a moments thought, conflating is: ***no matter what you perceive, always believe it is all colors*** of conflated equanimity <> off to bed until the nighttime sheds mev its whispered words and cries soto voce, write it wright it right it! 11:10pm Tues Aug 5
0
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 11:12 PM UTC
Pithy #9: con~flating
Sister of truth, and complicit in her reclusiveness, pushing her beside to hide behind your smile. Her pressure builds, begging for release. A let valve, an eruption of emotion, the bursting of anything too inflated, and I’m afraid I’ve conflated- reality with what happened that night, chest deep in warm water. Ephemeral evening of one last kiss, after one last kiss, languid dance, water helping to resist descent, holding my heart afloat, to keep it from drowning on your opulence. Your mouth holds my secrets, ***** like the martini you made me, the two together, a palpable force, keeping me lost in the gossamer that are my thoughts of you.
0
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
Beauty
to be or not to be that's not the question because i have no choice to love or not to love suits life much better to love to trust, to open, to feel another life besides my own and all the insecurities doubt fear elation that come along with it or not to love to give in to complacency and this overwhelming desire to give up in smoke with nothing to show no legacy no survivors nothing left besides the end, the abyss, the void whether it's love is the more difficult question how do i know if it's love i feel fear or love phobos, philos amazing how two polar opposites are so easily conflated in my silly head (which i think is overrated anyway) it's the subjectivity of it all that i cannot bear alone, or together, no way of knowing to love or not to love and whether or not it's love let's hear Hamlet's whingy romanticized opinion on that, the *****
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
still untitled about love
The stars may have names Past their prime Living in a different time Living in a world Different to my own Yet intrinsically the same A human experience Fabricated in existence Of melodies and zodiacs The constellations, the coincidences Entropy in the skies Awed by the distance Between myself and theme I feel so small and insignificant I could cross the lands I could cross the seas And yet I would not be able to cross the heavens I follow the starlight Until it turns lime Until the stars turn to stone And I can follow them on a boardwalk All the way to the big top And the young old gods Who live under the big top Of sloth and *** Prayed to by their fans For their conflated talents We call them Stars And they are called stars for a reason Sparkling, dazzling Intangible, infallible Humanity is its own sort of chaos Its own sort of entropy Constellations and mythologies But not for millions But not for millennia But for decades But for days Until mortality meets immortality Death doesn't discriminate But immortality Is very selective It will elect Only the best Only the classics Just like the stars Which sprawl and scatter Through the sublime heavens With a meek tongue I sing A song Not sung My own Written
0
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
Untitled 92
They beleaguered me until my dreams and my lies conflated in the way gravity used to be the same thing as radiation, but the dalliance of the fundamental forces was nothing compared to the eternal love affair between what I wanted and what I pretended to have
0
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
Fundamental Forces
Bleeding heart, blinding sun, Fleeting art, mind undone. Internal prattle, cumbersome, Eternal battles to overcome. Shaky hands presumed a tale, Of forsaken plans foredoomed to fail. Reverberating, uncertain shouts, Illuminating those hurtful doubts. A soul misplaced, fragile, fraught, A goal once chased with agile thought. Pursued the picture to yield the prize, Who knew the scripture was filled with lies? Kept the scars to quell his worth, Leapt to stars and fell to earth. Conflated pride and forespoken schemes Became fate denied with broken dreams.
0
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
Icarus
In my chest I bring a pain Which in time accept As a stubborn implant Right in my right chest This pain knows not where it beats Nor does it come from near here But it pulses deeply through And it almost sounds like you In the timbre of its screams That vibrate the thorax And puncture when you weep I live memories of sites Yet it is here she belongs now Whatever was once made of her And even if she’s not aware And even if you’re not yet aware I am: It lives in my right chest What a patron stepmother Crude lioness heart Synchronic pounding in negative resounds The **** acute pain Of this machine I carry Implanted, conflated, pointy I imported it from our nights And stares traded in summertime Iris tinged with shavings from the sun Cut up from the negatives of the blinds And in negative pounding Conducting in this right chest of mine This implant of torment Torment and own delicate shine So delicate it may take the torment and make At times: simple discomfort Others: a happy life in a moment And who may be source of this pain Of this heart in negative Creating only torment And what gorgeous torment Which at worse discomforts At best resuscitates my life in a moment And turns me back to us This pain and anguish In adolescent torpor Unrealising you made of Me the glad recipient Where to grow and lodge Like the lost bullet in time That naked ****** universe Formed into material emotion Animal biological material That from this story I have with you Gives anxiety during bed time Your anxiety But that pounds in negative As the now accepted implant When it comes dark longing Of us not seeing what is to come It’s just that here in pain and everything Beats content from imperfection So beautiful and sinistral In mine deep dextral chest Your youthful beating heart
0
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
Pain in the right chest
In my chest I bring a pain Which in time accept As a stubborn implant Right in my right chest This pain knows not where it beats Nor does it come from near here But it pulses deeply through And it almost sounds like you In the timbre of its screams That vibrate the thorax And puncture when you weep I live memories of sites Yet it is here she belongs now Whatever was once made of her And even if she’s not aware And even if you’re not yet aware I am: It lives in my right chest What a patron stepmother Crude lioness heart Synchronic pounding in negative resounds The **** acute pain Of this machine I carry Implanted, conflated, pointy I imported it from our nights And stares traded in summertime Iris tinged with shavings from the sun Cut up from the negatives of the blinds And in negative pounding Conducting in this right chest of mine This implant of torment Torment and own delicate shine So delicate it may take the torment and make At times: simple discomfort Others: a happy life in a moment And who may be source of this pain Of this heart in negative Creating only torment And what gorgeous torment Which at worse discomforts At best resuscitates my life in a moment And turns me back to us This pain and anguish In adolescent torpor Unrealising you made of Me the glad recipient Where to grow and lodge Like the lost bullet in time That naked ****** universe Formed into material emotion Animal biological material That from this story I have with you Gives anxiety during bed time Your anxiety But that pounds in negative As the now accepted implant When it comes dark longing Of us not seeing what is to come It’s just that here in pain and everything Beats content from imperfection So beautiful and sinistral In mine deep dextral chest Your youthful beating heart
Continue reading...
63
Defeated, deflated: conflated I fell, I feel, I found You found me Or did I find you? Did I seek you out? Are you me? I lost my step; we lost our step I fell, I feel, I found
0
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
Directions to the nearest gas station