"corollary" poems
‘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
A rose is active in the storm,
Its smell is an unexplainable redolence
It thrives to flourish.
A rose will wither away
inside a crystal vase or on firm ground.
A liquid substance is necessary to live and to rise,
just like He rose.
I wish to know the first time you blushed.
I wish I were there to pick you up when you fell as a child for the first time, and leaves fell to the ground.
I wish I were there the moment petals where stripped away from your body.
I wish to see you speak with radiant tenderness.
Your words and syllabus pierced through doors,
doors that were permanently locked in the heart of stone.
Meanwhile, I am just an ovule wishing to respond in a corollary way that slowly grows in a dark world
but like you rose
I will rise.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
Billionaire: I were
been Corollary,
at the party,
and petition,
where populism,
there is no discussion,
and abolished
and the average,
the epicurean scenes,
beloved my testamentary,
and I partisan,
and raw balance of my profits,
and my diploma,
my university triumphs,
I am the planetary star,
skin and clothing
protozoan,
Legionnaire
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
'LOVE IS BLIND'?
'Love is blind'?
what nonsense!
then how come we have
'love at first sight'?
Shakespeare in one sentence
had hoodwinked us since 1616
true, he wrote great drama and poetry
but we must note
he didn't study medicine
nor opthalmology
and mind you
we are living in the 21st century
with all the science and technology
surely it would be the greatest folly
to just quote the bard's cliche blindly
the eyes have it
ask the ophthalmologist
without the eyes
the lover would not see
beauty
and as a corollary
how could you love somebody
if in the first instance
you were blind id est--you couldn't see!
careful, so careful we must all be
to differentiate between reality
and the ranting of silly poetry
if this myth were to perpetuate nilly-willy
mankind would look really silly
that would look good not even to the slightest degree
and one more thing
please bear with me
and this is the bard's secret history
he had chancre--venereal ulcer
for which he received treatment
could he have written 'Love is blind'
being affected by that odious malady?
London's brothels he did visit frequently
when he was away from Stratford-upon-Avon
he drank a lot too--there is ample evidence
he also had anasarca (oh mercy!)
result of mercury-related membranous nephropathy
( we shall not defile him further-
but his alopecia was due to treatment of mercury
for his syphilis---what a medical litany!)
in conclusion
we could somehow see
that England's greatest writer
was not as bright as he had been taken to be.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
coronavirus
coronary episode—
coroner report
© 2020 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 11:12 PM UTC
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Such egoistic heads tell not to worry
And at our back talk oscillatory
Bad about us, creating a crematory
Where they bury their own glory.
They have a bad attitude of sanatory
Coward, showy, deceitful, predatory.
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
I too had such a mad hoary
Who was ready with an itinerary,
Where all bad & deceit come corollary
As she had a base habit of obfuscatory.
She knew less concepts contemporary
And thought herself vital primary.
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if I hunky-dory?
We knew those emotions were vapory –
Happy, then sad, angry then nugatory!
Her emotions changed as witch’s allegory,
Hate, spurn, prune are her favourite mandatory:
Now singly fights with colleagues hortatory;
Alas! Does not know her faults & category.
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if hunky-dory?
At first I tried to be a promontory
So that I can save her crematory;
Blind with pride, less corroboratory,
She spurned me having derogatory.
Now also I pity her as she is a hoary
But wish she improves her oratory.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
A rabid ******
with a fix from hell
tumbled into sleep
then death she fell
In her head it was hopeless
her heart a broken harp
arm an open wound
her life tragic art
Poisonous mush was relieving
better than so called love
pin ****** kept her breathing
the past weighed too much
On such a day I feel sorry
she never stood a chance
addiction was the corollary
of the waltz she had to dance
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 11:10 AM UTC
(Leeza, my roommate Lisa’s little sister, was off-tha-hook earlier this summer)
thirteen
peach flesh
fabuk buster
nu-metal priss
sexless *******
bitten fingernails
***** babyskin feet
mirror mesmerized
straight-eyed honesty
grouchapottamus
without analysis
corollary sister
wide eyed
hot mess
skinny
pacer
bella
doe
Jul 23, 2023
Jul 23, 2023 at 10:27 PM UTC
https://www.facebook.com/isconnectivityahumanright
well done Mr. Zuckerberg,
but just to colorize your noble intent
with a corollary,
a lump of coal,
for you,
from my colliery,
so too,
is my human right to
disconnect, reject,
if my privacy abused,
not yours to take and trash
my human connectivity far greater value on any scale,
than your smart/good/profit intentions
to expand your product's universe
keep in mind that in my version of the small print,
is writ:
*what's mine is not yours to mine
with reckless disregard,
though you couch your takings
so nicely and legal
my right to live free,
to disconnect,
ever present, and oft considered,
for the gluten of life is in the voice,
the real touch,
not in the adverts
so cleverly engineered, to insert*
regarding Facebook,
I query daily,
is this time spent of true worth,
the wheat, the whole grains of life
too oft lost,
suffocated by the voluminous and volubly trash,
by the unending absorbing waterfall of
"I didn't need to know that"
for now, Mr. Mark,
just
keep this in mind,
one of my social curation skills,
on my settings tab inserted,
is one listed as
nuclear,
a/k/a
bye-bye
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
Many times,
You have said vociferously;
......for all success
and in all failure,
faith is the key.
And many times,
I have tried to reason
against the equation
of ritual and religion.
But,
in the fashion world
of materialist-spiritualism,
where majority conforms to modern tradition,
I have often found it convenient
to ignore the dictates of reason
and still more convenient
to believe in the corollary;
......faith is the key.
Therefore,
I have mostly believed,
......in your faith
and in your prayers
......for me.
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
Stay calm and quiet,
while the voice within bids you riot.
Though of the lies you're thoroughly annoyed,
breathe a word and they'll brand you paranoid.
It is hard indeed to find a reason,
when the soul of world seems void.
But if you stubbornly refuse to bend,
you will win through in the end.
For the spirit must journey through slime,
before it can turn sublime.
Corollary:
Give me an army of lovers,
and I shall conquer bureaucracy!
Nah! Not really...
… but maybe, just maybe...
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
No shock, no engulfment...
Just the natural corollary to physical birth.
Death is standing on your porch screaming out
and beckoning you to come downstairs.
Unbudgeable and unbribeable.
The eternal, unbiased judge
is holding the Book of Life,
Your name no longer written in it.
The great leveller not paid for favors
is riding triumphantly his chariot
The dead, the great and small
now standing before the Throne.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 7:17 AM UTC
Ruminating epoché,
‘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
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
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 the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The 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.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:24 AM UTC
When my old friend
Walks through the door
He's come a long way with me
Constant companion
My fiercest combatant
An old corollary
Of my ****** up existence
I simply take him
Close in my arms
And rest while weeping tales away
Waiting till he wanders off
And someday he'll be back again
I just wish
When my old friend revisits
I'm jolly stocked with hearty ale
And songs to sing of old and new
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
He wants it more
She wants it less
We wrestle to find balance in our existence
She expresses she cares
He didn't care to care, he could have cared less
We find our chemistries to be attracted
So naturally hypotheses on possibilities & circumstances
No doubt their is gravity
Tension exists
This experience requires work
Work worthwhile
What's work to a laborer
This is a work that requires tending to
Requiring time, submission, and patience
A labor of love, let love guide your direction
We revel in the correlation in our corollary
The confluence of Love n Matter
She sees in his eyes depths
He sees in her eyes possibility
He(Depths) is the verse, She(Eyes) is the rhyme
"A conversation in progress are they...?"
Love incomplete
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
In this unknown world of knowledge hilly,
You came as a Mozart in disguise dolly
To teach all teachers how to teach fully;
Benefitted though sad – not meeting daily.
Daily meeting not possible, gave a pulley
Of google drive and we see, hear our folly.
Giving a chocolate, taking note of us, O Alley.
A corollary we get makes us gorgeous frilly
No obfuscatory with him: sometimes chilly,
Times cold, but a hunky-dory, a true deli.
An accurate hortatory for English holy,
Teaching precise pronunciation alley
To improve us from state utter nugatory.
Encouraging, gave chances to all my folly;
Novel, pioneering, predicatory. Never did dally.
Blessed to have such a trainer as lovely lily
Had been an orator, excellent energetic filly.
Marwadi University is blessed with hilly –
The persons so high, so intelligent, O Molly!
Wish to have such a guide in my life daily
So that saccharin be added to life’s chili
And lethargy, fatigue, lassitude goes dully.
Let it be Surat or Morbi or Rajkot or Delhi
Dhanajay, Viral and Brij sir be with me fully.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Ruminating epoché,
‘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
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
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 the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The 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.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
Newspaper names!
.
Preserving our inane stupidity
In crystalline rigidity!
**** em!
___
Do you really want to be real?
...
How so?
----
Will you walk the naked pain streets
Of understanding
All the ****** here?
Will you ask:
Say
What truly is it to be
A human being
beyond the tales of
Blood lines
And it's corollary------greed?
----
Under the bright skies of simplicity
Will you decide
To stop being deceived?
----
All the newspaper names !!
Everyone of them fake
**** em
Be a life
Be known
As yourself
Pure and
Home grown
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
that was the summer
I tried to fall in or out of love
but my heart's all used up and
I
can't do anything right
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
All I care is for this sudden smell if I dare to ever hold my breath...I cannot. To wallow from this state of means to come to me in dreams and amidst conscious strolls. Do I forbear or do I endure such a beautiful strain? This aroma, what bliss will have me ensconced by waters and corollary of celestial instance. Happy as I not alone so ever in this amazement of chance. The sun has touched me today in ways so true, caressed in spite of these garments that sheathe me. They will not take me alive...I only care for beauty. Care for wealth, for relevance, or power...care elsewhere for such rottenness of the soul is contagious. ‘Contage’ me not, if you wish so not to see the wrath of a gentle man, of a gentleman. This smell will stay I will come to it by morrow. Smell on if this rave meets you, endure the pleasure of such scents as it’s zephyr may touch the walls of mortal nares. Smell on...beauty is by.
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC
Bo Boggs sat on a Pappy Crush Soda crate, smokin' a roach in a graveyard. The headstone read " Here lies Pinnochio Earle... Face Up. Take Care Where You Sit. " . Bo could see the Landry hog farm, over the tombstone and his mind was fishing for some cosmic corollary as he stared into Space grippin' a cold one. The summer breeze came at Summer's End, bringing with it, a hint of Fall, and far off barbeque. Bo Boggs sat on a Pappy Crush Soda crate in the bossom of a garden of stone. listening to Bluebirds forget the music they had never rehearsed in the first place. And he almost laughed.
Then he wrote that down.
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
In the shadows of my serene composure
Perturbance ventured my susceptible core
Corollary hallucinations compelled my inner channels to disarm
Commenced the chaos at the departure of calm
A storming blitz led by a fortifying fleet
Disruptions levitated to the greatest summit
Every portal being forcefully barred
Catastrophic propositions nearly forged my dreary graveyard
Instantaneous reinforcements initiated an expeditious resurgence
Sirens snapped my vulnerable systems back to sense
My efficacious consultant explored miscellaneous alternatives
Warfare and fleeing being the superlative prerogatives
Befittingly, combat seemed extremely gallant
Escape undignifying the prowess of talent
It all panned out en route a thunderous showdown
The ultimate clash being unveiled as the ‘Psychological Crown’
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 10:52 PM UTC
A missive from my old mate Hareballs....giving us a laugh at ourselves and this crazy world.
Cheers M.
The following is an actual question given on a University of Arizona chemistry midterm, and an actual answer turned in by a student.
The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving, which is unlikely. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.
Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct........leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting, 'Oh, my God.’….Oh, my God
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.
Oct 8, 2023
Oct 8, 2023 at 8:48 PM UTC