"consequential" poems
.
It's here again...
Heavy downpour...
I inhaled the rain,
cloying with petrichor.
Standing at my window,
looking out...
Street lamps struggled aglow.
People with brollies walking about.
My eyes reached out to the heavens,
tracing these glassy beads
as they'd free fall...
Falling by the sheets,
the pattering hastens,
periodically punctuated
by the thunder's call.
Mind is drifting and floating,
intently listening to a
million love wishes...
Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...
In light entrapped splashes.
Raindrops descend and come,
into my still life tonight...
Won't you will me numb,
with your chilly bite...
Wide-eyed enamour...
Catching a stray droplet or two.
Riding the tail of a zephyr,
finding a place where
no trouble could ensue.
An errant gust blew
to meet with me.
The refreshing moist
meets my parted lips...
Inhaling deep in this reverie...
Into a sea of tranquillity,
my mind slowly dips...
Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...
I would savour each and every one.
If the moist wind came and caresses
I would meet it in a tight embrace
till the break of sun.
What a sight...
Almost surreal it seems...
As the light from the surrounding
lamps dances playfully...
Dispersing and exploding into a
barrage of shattered beams.
Before it gets subdued in the drops
caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...
The drops would trickle
and fall before merging,
forming stranded puddles
unable to flow...
Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...
An image...
Borne out of a fantastic show.
An image of beating hearts,
overlapping one another...
Speaking of consequential love
and feelings so true
Intertwined...
in the promise of forever...
Slowly retrieving itself into an...
image of you...
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
I'm just a simple person, just like the rest
Well, not entirely simple, but nonetheless
It's like society and the media just say what they want
To create new forms of discriminations, that will forever haunt
As if the already existing ones weren't bad enough
They must make sure that you feel flawed,
and make your life tough
I'm just another person; I removed the word simple
People nowadays even get trashed for having a dimple
"HA, it's just a deformity on your face!"
Well, I hope you trip and fall on your own shoelace :)
I'm just another person, with a not-so-great vision
I need glasses, so that I don't squint at the television
It makes my life easier, but the media has made it tough
Their influences and the consequential societal mentality,
has made my childhood rough
Beauty is said to be in the eyes of the beholder
Yet friendship is considered beauty,
when it gives you a shoulder
To cry on, is what I meant
Not literally
I mean it could
Just didn't want to be misunderstood
Why are glasses objectified,
like in The Princess Diaries
Is it not considered dignified
to not want your eyes to get all fiery?
Trust me, I'm just another person;
who needs the help of glasses
Media's interpretation has ruined this too,
to profit their theatrical farces
This is not an appraisal piece
for the object that makes us see well
This is a shoutout to those,
who feel pressurized by this societal shell
To define beauty may be complex,
but it should not be controlled by someone's interest
You're beautiful the way you are,
to have you the world is truly blessed
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
At spawn of first light
Darkness embarks into the recesses of hibernation
And so begins the blinding incline,
the inevitable blonde coiled wreaths frustration is on the rise
forces a discharge so multiple and emanate,
the skyward black shrinks back
from panoptic reaches,
into a delinquent weakened rumor
When this daily task of ridding the black ends a victor
The climb continues upward in a high sky setting
Consequential over the mornings painstaking labors
Wiping from his brow,
in a waving motion
To release mists over global hydration
By welcoming this morning dew,
the earth is one more day new
and can take great relief in this rebirth
Assuring all parched famine will gain resolve
taking in their absolve
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
Soothing, sensational,
elegant as the harp,
Semblance, integument,
covering of the tarp,
Ebullient, vivacious,
precision of the mind,
Vehement, appetent,
keen & one of a kind,
Perfervid, chocolate katydid,
desirable & luscious taste,
Delectable, ambrosial,
palatable & consumed with haste,
Sybaritic, voluptuous,
enticing to the senses,
Libidinous, hedonic,
enriched untightened hinges,
Efficacious, puissant,
robust delight to the eye,
Potent, consequential,
immeasurable symbol of the sky,
Pulchritudinous, gorgeous,
magnificent as the autumn sun,
Resplendent, vivid, lustrous
as a diamond-lithographed gun,
Sympathetic, affectionate,
condoling soul of a angel,
Altruistic, benignant,
warmhearted with no mangle,
Serenity, tranquility,
composure of divine peace,
Harmonious, amicable,
placid as the slow moving creek...
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
this peculiar notion transmigrates into a startling potion,
one that creates, not slakes human thirst,
a consequential first position for those who are in possess
of a direct line to gods who hide in the pitch black,
perforce one must make discrete deferential inquiries
avec une politesse indirecte
just in case we are wrong
(honest aside:
as composition proceeds, ear buds fill me with
Music of Transmigration, notably Op. 11, of S. Barber making
contradicting souls passing through me tenable and malleable)
naturellment,
loud radio silence, was I naive to expect otherwise?
perhaps god is not the subject of this poem
but perhaps the author(!) who's
just keeping his "hand" in the poem game,
spoofing human memes,
with a spot of fun even in
New Z--l-and-other domiciles
after all who has more
nominalistic titles,
is cursed and blessed,
by almost everyone
at least once a day, and in
a thousand different names
with an impishly
cruel sense of what this human gig
it created.
is about
tonight
I am a composer,
tomorrow’s decomposer,
or just a funny named follower
ah,
the answer is in the
data
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
Do you know what it means to have a moment encapsulated and remain enthralled with an utterance for what seems a century?
Or more?
It isn't your voice or your beleaguered indiscretion
it is not your rounded shoulders and body (language) speaking of consequential truths
its the way your words round my hard thoughts, softening and falling to slide off the firm curve of my breast.
Feeling each individual letter glide delightfully around my mouth
after being in yours
and I taste something new amid
a festival of enunciation.
There is false bravado in me and you
slip it off, along with my clothes.
I'm left naked and shy
almost hiding now, what I previously
wanted to share so much.
Almost, as your tender words guide an
embrace
I fall in love for the first time with a word
knowing you can only ever possess me physically.
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 8:17 PM UTC
They tell me I can do anything.
Looking down the throat of a challenge.
Hanging on to the coat tails of life by the fringe,
above a fire that is trying to singe...
...Who I am
My Identity
Targeted by
a self created entity.
To bring me down...
...Below my potential
to see what is essential
through consequential actions.
I AM A MAN!
no matter my wingspan... I CANNOT FLY!
And those childhood encouragements are a lie.
But through accomplishing what I am capable
I find that my boundaries are escapable.
I'm not shooting for the stars,
or looting and ending up behind bars,
but I am me, myself,
doing what I can so I'm not rotting on a shelf.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
You never fail to mystify me
Love out of reach
A devastating fallacy
I wish you the very best
But only feel sorry partially
There’s a smile on your face again
No use for thinking so logically
A hidden curriculum so easy to mask
I’d love to know you but hate to ask
You are all I dream about
-And there you were-
A love aptitude that’s entirely illiterate
Your pearly smile stays stretched continuously illuminate
Save the feelings for the archive
So foreign and entirely glamorized
They fail to represent what reality is waiting impatiently
Your looks are intense
They compliment your insanity
But in the mean time I’m failing miserably
I can’t even look you in the eye
I’m too shy
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
I am the food but not mere taste,
I am the air but not mere breathe,
I am the odour but not mere smell,
I am the feeling but not mere touch,
I am the love but not mere emotion,
I am the destroyer of time but not mere time,
I am non-consequential but not unattainable,
light is just a happening of me but I am not the light,
I am darkness.
I am all-pervaded but utter stillness,
I am playful but utterly serious,
I am in absolute sleep or in utter wakefulness,
Universe is just a happening of me and I am nothingness.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
Sadness loomed
over me
spread loving yarns
around me
hiding my flesh
below warp and woof
Needles from on high
***** my stingy pocket
feeling all Shanghai
Hang um up
Consequential bannners
for Count Ceramic Time
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 7:20 PM UTC
why is it that when I have found happiness,
my urge to write begins to cease?
and as I stare at the crease between your eyebrows I wonder if perhaps the reason thunder trails so far behind lightning isn’t a matter of science
but instead, hesitation, as if this sort of happiness is noncompliant in which its outcome is simply consequential, but I doubt one second of my day is spent doing anything less than adoring that crease, i need not express the happiness you bring me through the lines of a poem but instead through the storm of emotions that constantly rise and fall, yet all in all, not once have I hesitated.
the happiness you bring me never falters.
I have yet to witness that thunder.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 11:35 AM UTC
Your rhymes were a bin bag thrown
in the trash, couldn't even write a
sentence, dyslexia of meaning
and ****** up sentences that
weren't even spelt write.
Couldn't even spin a line,
as it was meant to be straight
but your words were more wavy than
a bad perm.
There isn't room for a failed wanna be,
alone in your room ************
hard,
But your more empty than the raisin
***** your trying to spit out of...
Non consequential wording that doesn't flow
down stream,
more like your floating bloated
breath releasing putrid gas
that stinks more than what they were belching out.
I never insult the cadavers of dead lines,
but your words were buried even before
you opened that hurse of dead beats.
a handful of rhymes that were more powerful than
your buried career,
sorry you were a foot in the grave even before you
opened your mouth.
Song I wrote after I used your girl..
I wasn't the one she wanted it was you,
but I gave her what she wanted
and that never included you..
Every thing you wanted I stole,
and gave her fake wishes that were
tarnished but she never looked beyond
the moment seeing the stitching
of us was more fake than the smiles I gave her.
I knew she wanted to be with you,
but I was the salesman of woman..
While you were the boy next door, I was the salesmen
showing her fake dreams..
Don't worry you can have her after I've used her enough,
I'll even trade her in for a good price..
Ye, she'll be broken..
But everything is always defective
after I've rode it enough...
Her crown maybe cracked,
but she'll be yours even though she'll be thinking
of me even though your in her, I'm the length
she'll remember but she'll be your crack queen.
Now this is enough of wording.
and I'm moving on to the next one.
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
Regret is the consequential disappointment
That the thrilling transgressive frisson your
Online ****** therapist offered for a number.
On the web no one knows if you are a dog
But the Daily Mail knows if you are a love rat
Their readers will wallow in your misfortune.
Millions have had web fantasies exposed
Sharp onomatopoeic cheating thrills have
Become a fear of secret lives found out.
Their private diversions now public lead
Nervous executives newly emasculated
To realise life is short, shorter than desire.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
<•>
too oft, so oft, the absence, the imagining, that
no such comfort exists, that remorse may n'ere complete its course,
when a time for love is beyond beyond, is a bridge too far,
a notion so fraught, a vision unwrought, that we do not
recognize the why and the wherefore to step forward
even for for the next breath small, the in of inconsolability,
a deeper welling
so consequential there is no seeing a piercing light
*then come to me, come to me then, when words can be
a symphony of violins, an orchestrating examination of
thy wounded chest, and caressing slow repetition
deep moaning, understanding waves upon the shores of my arms, my shoulder, my chest, any piece that can be yours,
a shoreline of relief, and listen with great care as the subtleties change, the pastoral comes in an ever ascending
crescendo of lifting, a stabbing, resurrecting but not fully repairing,
restoring but replacing sensation, for inconsolability is a disease
difficult to defeat, deserving of being memory-recalled,
but the ability, the cure, the rhyme of
hope and upward slope of open eyes will penetrate surely as the potion of the music of my words lay you down and rise you up,
and that is enough, to begin the renewal,
the campaign of commencement, the possibility of clarity,
it is the journey,*
***the changeling we call the
destiny of our designation,
which is forever the next destination***
9/17/17
7:20am
<•>
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
Fire Agate
Rendered at last,
with seamless lines
of every shade
and layer on top of layer
As we know,
one burning tree
can set
it's forest aglow
and so came her soul
with fire's inside
But with fire comes chaos
Birches chirp
for consequential change
for her edge's
to chip away
Then a Maple
, through sweet rustles,
asks for more
Willows fume
fatal wishes
for the forest
to surrender,
for water over embers
A Cypress follows
, with deep concern,
and begs to stand
Ashes whisper
for another
just one more day
But an Elm
seeks that same color
but within her
and to stay
It's dangerous to dance
with this many tree's
"One day,
maybe I'll break,
and maybe someone,
maybe you,
will see
between the waves
that meet at peak,
that fold into another,
see why the cold sky
shy's behind the hot sun
but are drawn together,
see below the clear surface
that deceives
by gifting you assumptions,
see how clear agate
over hematite
gives you iridescence,
see beyond the points
we know,
and please see
where a circle stops.
Maybe you'll see
what I can't
, me"
Mar 15, 2021
Mar 15, 2021 at 9:51 AM UTC
.
O
•i found truth
in a saying i read•that we
start dying the day we were born
•not from life inflicted wounds from
which we've bled•not from illness or
disease that would have us torn •we
only live and breathe upon borrowed
sand•because we age; because we are
but mortal•it's only up to ourselves to
be mediocre or grand• what we'll be at
the end is consequential• it'll matter not
if we won popularity polls• or what riches
over which we covet and fuss•when asked, *"for
whom does the bell toll?"*•look in the mirror for it tolls
••••••••
•••••
for no one...
but for us•
.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
What did Sisyphus know
About a slippery slope;
Shoulder to stone
His feet groped,
Shifting inclinations;
Each step consequential,
A mythic joke.
Wiggle the toes,
Feel for the edge,
Sliding is inevitable.
We have no victims
On fallacious slopes.
Which lost hair defines bald;
Which millimeter makes you tall;
How many dimes makes one well off;
Which freckle makes you cute or beautiful;
Which ounce makes you fat,
From thin to Bottacelli.
Where does one begin?
Removing sentiments,
One at a time,
You find you straddle
The love/hate line,
A line drawn on a mountain top,
And splitting your Sisyphus rock.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC
A choice along one direction leads
to consequential choices based on quasi-essential needs.
And countless more directions;
some more pointless than they seem.
Each with unique-essential implications;
all random in their themes.
And when faced with new directions,
we all enjoy equating means.
There are sub-directions and sudden choices;
some with supplicatory pleas.
Yes, implication's long duration is an invisible machine.
A meta-physical motivation to a person and their genes.
Personally, my own choices corresponded
to these unlimited extremes.
To these tiny little time-transporters
that fit us into teams.
And I thought I'd reached a choice;
was on its corresponding way.
I followed down its passageways and subdomains
for consequential days.
And from the way that we all network,
I have come to the belief
that our decisions implicate
the parts that aggregate beneath.
Yes, every person has these combinations
aggregate throughout their lives.
And by the afore-mentioned complications,
They (eventually) divide to warring sides.
On one side is destruction;
On the other, love resides.
If you make the wrong decision
then these forces, they collide.
To catastrophic implications
and such damage done inside.
But if you're able to pause for just a moment
and hold them side-by-side.
You will find the sort of peace
that only finds those who have died.
And suddenly life becomes so simple;
no more chances need be applied.
Just one choice and two directions
Lie in front of your own eyes.
You feel quite amazing in
proportion to this fantastic new sensation.
As one choice takes you to destruction;
the other leads you to salvation.
It's the truest self-realization
and it's there for you to take it.
There's a chance of your damnation...
but, see, only you can make it.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
.
*a■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
quiet sol-■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
itude envelopes■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
my space • deflecting■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
all that is consequential•lea-■■■■■■■■■■■
ving voiceless thoughts i cannot■■■■■■■■
trace • only ghost-like echoes vi-■■■■■■■■
sit; faint and subtle •nestling in■■■■■■■■
this void that i am in• comfort e-■■■■■■■■
mbraces warm like a long lost fr-■■■■■■■■
iend•i melt as i sink deeper with-■■■■■■■■
in• slow tumble into an abyss w-■■■■■■■■
ith no end•relativity dissolves in-■■■■■■■■
to nothingness •everything seems■■■■■■■■
warped and incoherent•there is...■■■■■■■■
an odd strength about being wei-■■■■■■■■
ghtless • as the currents carry me■■■■■■■■
away from the days' detriments...■■■■■■■■
welcome, come in......you've been■■■■■■■■
here before•do not fear......it's not■■■■■■■■
too far • just a few steps, beyond■■■■■■■■
the door•slip into my dark-
ness for i've left the
gates to my
mind
...*
slightly ajar•
.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
Tears rush down my cheeks
My nose runs
I desperately scrounge for Kleenex
You stand and stare awkwardly
Unapologetic for your cruelty
You're safe for now; I'm still crying
But once this flood stops
And I figure out exactly how much is your fault
You'll die
I still have ten seconds of bawling
You have ten seconds to run
Run to Ecuador and become a drug dealer
**** off the Yakuza in Kyoto
Double cross a gang of Trinidadians
Become an alcoholic gold miner
All of these are less consequential than what I plan to do.
Any place is safer than in front of me, so you'd best be fleeing.
Ten seconds ************
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
I think about time I've spent
moments in my life
watching ****** movies
eating bad food
working dead end job
after dead end job
staring at the blank wall
listening to ticking clocks
cheerfully counting down my demise
long walks I'd take at dusk
down the trails by the river
pretending I enjoy running
because the pounding of my heart
in my head made me feel alive
I'd think about life and death
and whether god exists
and whether love exists
about *** philosophy, infinities
the hours I have spent writing
poetry and nonfiction
displaying myself for scrutiny
painting canvas that I hate
to make myself feel something
to hope it reaches someone
reading Nietzche and Foucault
as if my existence could matter
but along the way I found myself
and maybe all of these moments
have led up to something
consequential and meaningful
every moment is part of my journey
every experience is part of becoming
every hour has lead me to you
so not a single second
of my life has ever been wasted
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
you want to know
why he's depressed.
he made a shell distant from his sobriety
and lost touch with any sense of piety.
Tis' a pity, tis' a pity, he becomes
a poor fool, passes away prior to full potential
knows only money and *** to be essential,
and knows nothing on how to deal with the consequential.
fell in love too early
only to know it's too late.
no promises to rectify,
no vows to testify,
only his broken brain left to crucify.
a battered body broken down in battle
with the world around him
and the war within him.
love is thy kryptonite,
drugs are thy dynamite,
left to implode
in the world he created.
he lays in his head, he lies in his head,
he has died in his head,
and thus makes this death.
he lives in everyone's life,
knows not one of his own,
only knows the boundaries of his zone.
Tis' not one of comfort, only discomfort
this man is me.
this man is me.
see my red blood leak on the ledger,
my life flow away like a lost feather,
hang me loose on the tether.
to see sunrise again after tonight?
no please,
never.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 1:50 AM UTC
Like the tiniest of pebbles,
ignored by the cool fingers of the laughing brook.
Like the obscure cave...
So inaccessible that it never sees the light of day.
Like the move easily dismissed.
When the queen overshadowed the rook.
Like the kite that spiralled downward.
When its string snapped and wind refused to play.
Like the pothole that tripped,
simply because indifferent feet would only overlook.
Like an idea that never sees fruition,
when open minds are scarce and clenched fists scream nay.
Like hidden reasons that remains unseen.
When we judge by the actions we conveniently mistook.
Like consequential words whispered under my breath.
They bear much weight...
But I'm too afraid to say.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
Steve
You make me feel like a ******
I just want to love you
Till your parents walk through.
No door to the room
I wonder if you smell my perfume
Euphoria is the name
Just like our flame.
I love feeling you
Just to touch you
Gives me thrills
And the consequential chills.
I replay it in my head
That time in your bed
Holding each other like we’re cold
So intimately you hold.
I wonder if we will marry
And you will be my Jerry
If we will be stable like a rock
And down the aisle we will walk.
God I want you so bad
But I don’t know what is out there
I think of you before I sleep
Us in a pair.
Please love me
The way I love you
It would make my life
The way I always imagined it to.
Your mom is a drunk
Your dad is cool
If you end up like him
I would be a fool
Not to marry you.
I could watch you watch sports
Just like I did with my dad
I would enjoy every minute of it
And I know you would like my stepdad.
So please tell me
You like me too
I will always like you
Steve this I promise you.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC