"congruity" poems
queer creature of white stone:
the spirit of the island in the head of this lion,
the soul of the natives in the body of this fish,
spirit and soul, lion and fish, mingle together by
mere wry humour of evolution’s word
we revere this beast, (it watches over us
from nine metres above), we bow down our backs,
(worship it as our exemplar): for many of us,
unknowingly, we emulate the spirit and soul
of this queer white creation of stone.
standing tall (unshaken!) even as jaundice bolts of heaven’s
creep tip-toed behind its scales and strike:
its cemented steadfastness of stone we emulate,
for through the towering grey waves of crisis, and
the threatening dark clouds that foretell our very fears,
we too, have floated and transcended and appeared
unscathed.
mutated monster – child of bad genes,
they despise such unfavourable antagonistic features
(shall it rule like a lion or flail like a fish?):
its unlikeliness of surviving, of thriving we emulate:
for this dotted smudge of red pen ink on the globe,
destined to bow down to fate – bowed down not, and
flourished.
beams of white water spouting out in a
perfect shape of a quadrant’s circumference, endlessly,
its majestic spewing action we emulate:
this island of expectations, sterile smell of success,
fate of our future in the setting of an exam hall,
(in there do you not think we resemble the merlion,
our mouths the hoses, the papers our well?)
but, oh, the merlion – so many of it –
the merlions, same-maned, same-scaled,
fluttering and bursting with imitation across our home:
such congruity, conformity we emulate:
for years of yearning to swim in the mainstream waters,
of being goldfish, instead of losing the waters for flight like flying fish,
have made us very much, about
the same.
queer creature of white stone:
do you see not how we resemble your very self,
how we offer you praise (by
lifting our human arms, arching on our mere knees,
hoisting our lowly mortal heads, surveying your colossal royalty,
camera in hand)?
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 7:02 AM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is epicurian absurdity
Who are we to us credulity
Nimbus nimiety nihilism’s congruity
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Send me some token, that my hope may live,
Or that my easeless thoughts may sleep and rest;
Send me some honey to make sweet my hive,
That in my passions I may hope the best.
I beg no riband wrought with thine own hands,
To knit our loves in the fantastic strain
Of new-touched youth; nor ring to show the stands
Of our affection, that as that’s round and plain,
So should our loves meet in simplicity;
No, nor the corals which thy wrist enfold,
Laced up together in congruity,
To show our thoughts should rest in the same hold;
No, nor thy picture, though most gracious,
And most desired, because best like the best;
Nor witty lines, which are most copious,
Within the writings which thou hast addressed.
Send me nor this, nor that, to increase my store,
But swear thou think’st ‘I love thee,’ and no more.
2.2k
The Noble Soul Has Reverence For Itself
Some saw steel as a hurdle
A material, creatively, infertile
It had no use in a Tudor Chapel
As void an object as Eve’s apple
Innovation died with, past, ingenuity
A true lost sense of congruity
This defined the apparent nature of a coward
A form vacant in Howard
…(A car electric powered, Clear history soured.)
P.S Eter Ellers
Walked in, mud on his shoe
The substance looked like a mound of poo
Cleaned it off in a decorative pool
Down river, ran the stool
Birdie Num Nums scattered about
Soaked with water from a concrete spout
Furniture moves with a life of it’s own
The will to which is hardly known
An invited pest
An awkward guest
Painted skin
The Party is FIN
Futuristic Nostalgia
Two are split by the same division
A line drawn with accurate precision
One's caught in the hands of a time piece running fast
Frightened by setting it too far past
Another’s caught in a backwards flock
Allowing time to tenderly stalk
Neither finds it clear to see
Present tense is the place to be
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is Epicurean absurdity
Who are we to us complicity
Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s congruity
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC
Twixt here and horror
the path is littered with
chapped lips and broke-down transmissions.
Mandatory overtime.
That itty-bitty “but for this” was enough
to cleave my soul in twain, but
not right down the middle, no,
since it would represent a minor mercy
to be blessed with
some sense of congruity
in times like these.
Instead, what remains is
a big half and
a small half and
the big half eats the small half and
is left invariably lonely and sad and
filled with regret for this
lack of impulse control.
That **** is ******* me up, man,
its ******* me up.
Reserve your judgment.
Please.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 11:43 AM UTC
August is never lost to Summer,
she shares in her sphere of circularity
Calendula's a by-word for prolonging,
dead-heading vies with the flush.
Lunaria's prized seed pods' legacy's boon.
In redolent contemplation.
Autumn bulbs eagerly secured.
Amongst them Colichicums a wondrous shrub
for late September's appearance.
Like a Stallion, August's canter masquerades
the truest of challenges ,
for the final hurdle.
By means of subtle suggestiveness
Russet subsumes the Red.
Blue musters a tired
muddying Purple.
Yellow bleaches
as though touched
by the exertion of congruity
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
It was a curious thing
The coincidence held often in the midst of a new experience
Perhaps even the good fortunes I found to be in such company
Of her
It was a random thing really
An impulse to help with a group
Of which I had grown in
One which I had discovered the wonders of congruity in
As well as the movements of many
Coalescing towards those of one
Perhaps it was a nostalgic feeling which drew me
Of continuing the cycle I had grown in
To those growing now
But in this nostalgia, I found something greater
I found her
She had been there earlier
When I was growing
Finding myself
We had laughed, played and, most prevalently, moved together
But I had left, and as thus assumed the connection lost
Yet, there she was
Once again, we laughed, played, but this time, taught
Continuing the cycle of growth to those younger
Yet somehow learning more from them
However, amongst the fun
I felt something real
To someone I had though lost forever
There are few I feel such a bond
But yet however much time I spend separate to those few,
That bond is never lost
And she is all the same
Forever entranced in her growth
And in a connection I shan’t lose again
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
I am defaulted,
For I seek congruity
Of heinous hums that stifle my scream;
At night when the gloom falls under my pillows,
Crawling beneath to cloister itself around the iridescence
From a light, it never shone
I am defeated
By those shall be bound to defy;
Shall see the hues of tomorrow, the cues of a spectrum merged within itself.
Darkness quaffs down the chaos sleeping on the tip of my tongue,
Attenuating a minute of clarity:
Privy to those whose scream echoes within tangled sheets and stuffed mats:
Screeches, as if a knell,behind the murmur of the room..
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 1:38 AM UTC
Cosmic consciousness can consequently convey cataleptic conditions...
captured calamities constantly cascading, careening, colliding continuously...
continuity, congruity, catalysts construing clarity, confining confusions...
concluding; causality creatively conducts constructed concretized concordance.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
I will coil round the Oak and whisper congruity
faster than you can draw breath,
your cochlear will hear
this fulfilment,
long before it is spoken.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 7:05 PM UTC
Goodbye 2020
You've given us pain, plenty plenty
Time to forget you even exist
Time for your pain to desist
Two fingers to your cruelty
Now replaced with some congruity
Forget you n' your death
Forget evil 'theft of breath'
Farewell messed up leap year
Farewell year of fear
Twenty one is coming
Vials of vaccine running
You're now history to me
We've done it, set us free
No virus going to stop
The progress of man, man now on top
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 11:40 AM UTC
It turns out that loving someone in spite of their appearance has nothing to do with emotions or that eradicating wounds and trauma has no magic formula.
Accepting one's imperfections grant new joy and, because you left a part of it behind, you won't grudge your way out holding pieces of broken smiles. Our hearts, lighter than they used to, carry suffering as we watch the world suffer from everyone's flaw-- but we can't forget how portraits hung themselves in galleries for our eyes to feast on, only to be forgotten once we step out the door.
Admittedly, the millions before and after me and, you-- are as fragile as we all will be.
Yes, it's perfectly fine to choose to live with other matters than force yourself to live with your imperfections.
We are all ugly.
And it is uglier to think that ugliness is a life sentence— a stigma, a scarlet letter, a red card, a dunce cap, a billboard of shame, a birthmark on your face.
But, what makes us ugly?
It's your inability to manifest your devastation from hatred or being at stake upon the brightness of scars— or just simply, if we romanticized modesty.
"You are worth it."
Imperfections are a long time discernment— and not because we allow them to doesn't confirm their rights to judge. Scars are beautiful, so are you. We already paid prices for our invalidity as a living flaw. What bothers you is what you think you are, so stand firm. You are on your greatest form. You are the perfect formula of beauty. You are imperfectly beautiful. You are the treasure of the seven seas. You are made of stars. You are **** brighter than a rainbow. You are the reason tapes continue to play.
And now, as we watch the fountain of misery continuously scrambling our serenity, we are all imperfectly beautiful with a heart of congruity— we have to accept everyone's offer, give them a chance to love us, at least, in a creative way.
—kvg, the ugly romantic you
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 9:02 AM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is Epicurean absurdity
Who are we to us complicity
Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s congruity
Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 11:48 PM UTC
~your mouth is glued shut and they're standing across from you screaming about the grocery list and scented candles
~your lover is sitting next to you trying to tell you how your emptiness is seeping into his veins
~there are eight things you're forgetting at each moment in time and the ring around your left index finger is cutting your circulation.
~the planetary energy around you is rotting and you've anchored yourself to this very earth
~holding everyone around you on higher pedestals. purposely sabotaging the smile that just about crept onto your precious face
~the congruity of your parts has fallen and the spaces between each finger have started to collect dust.
~the scales of your peaceful life have been tipped for so long that you're the one who cries in grocery stores
~chasing so many avenues of adventure and thought at one time that your hands are becoming transparent
~you're dour, emotionless and resentful. you're an accurate description of the sun's frown but his smile hides it.
~you spit hateful phrases at him but are dying inside at the sight of his tears at your fault
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is Epicurean absurdity
Who are we to us complicity
Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s congruity
Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 8:11 PM UTC