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Combat....

though morbid in nature, there is a sense of beauty....

for example -
the bullet and it's chamber
the slickness of steel, and the power of the trigger
which together correlates the symphony of motion
from the time the trigger is pulled, to the
daunting escape of a bullet, and then finally to the ******* of it's victim.....

Quite morbid... yet hauntingly beautiful.....

Then come's the bullets quintessential cohorts

The Chemical and The Armored Car (a Tank)

The brutal barrage of steel cartage
crashing into unstable masonry
then the soothing smog of golden mustard gas...

The echoed shrieks, the violent shakes,
the ****** eyes and mucus filled noses
whose violent episodes finally conclude
when the eyes of death stare back at them...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....

The finally... how can we forget the noble foot soldier?
his footsteps, silent to the earth....

out of the hysteria and chaos
two men, two weapons, and a whirlwind of emotion  
nationalistic pride, paranoid fear, and  scattered  tranquility...

A sign, as is to say....
"I don't want to fight, but I have to..."

Which all correlates in the ****** of the bayonet
a twinkle of blood, and then finally the gentle weeps...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....
Flow May 2019
Logically, if a tour guide tells you what to expect when walking through a haunted house, he first must tell the tour group when the monsters will jump out and how to handle situations like these. The guide must give strategies to the group to help people deal with what is ahead, and by doing so, he can prepare his group to see the haunted house in an uncommon way. This is an insightful way of giving people a different perspective about the experience of a haunted house. This way of experiencing a Halloween thrill allows people to be comfortable with what is being shown and can offer them to analyze it much deeper than just the mere experience. This is how a guide brings people to another dimension of understanding.
For centuries, philosophers and other logical master minds have been formulating models about what logic is. Defining terms to understand logic, philosophy, religion, and contradictions will provide people with the tools to grasp their own beliefs. This will show individuals what is clearly going on with people in Western Society. There are many things to address in people’s beliefs systems and the models that they use to understand logic. For example, a phone call and a further in-depth Interview resulted in a chance to ask questions from a professor at a well-known
college in Florida. This Professor specializes teaching philosophy and defining terms. This is what Professor Luke C. Rogers insisted:
“Things work, that's logic. If there's a mechanic that we figure out behind things whether it be math, science, the fundamental mechanics belong to logic. Logic is split into deductive and inductive branches” (Rogers).
I compared the definitions of deductive reasoning to a Philosophy professor and a Philosophy website that had multiple terms. This is a simpler definition of what Deductive reasoning means:
“Deductive reasoning, or deduction, is one of the two basic types of logical inference. A logical inference is a connection from a first statement (a “premise”) to a second statement (“the conclusion”) for which the rules of logic show that if the first statement is true, the second statement should be true” (“Deductive Reasoning”).
In other words, deductive reasoning goes from a general statement to a specific statement. Inductive reasoning is the opposite. Logic is reasoning. If one defines it based on common models from math, science, etc. They will accept established theoretical concepts. Math, science, and philosophy are forms of logic to classify and formulate opinions. If someone stated that math is merely a model of reality, would it be something temporary? The answer is controversial and can be understood in various ways. When formulating logic, one must first acknowledge what logic means. Some people need common models to understand what is called physical and non-physical reality. These are philosophies intended on explaining these forms:
“Philosophy is defined as the love of wisdom. Wisdom comes in two forms: truth and value/meaning.  The ways in which we get at truth and value/meaning constitute philosophy. Logic, for instance, is the direct study of truth and all the methods that human beings attain it” (Rogers).
Many times, common logical contradictions about beliefs will spread throughout the world. Contradictions can be common which is why a definition of what it means is vital for understanding if common beliefs are logically consistent. This was what Rogers has to say about the meaning of logical contradictions:  
“A logical contradiction would be a pair of statements where in both cannot be deductively true. That is, if one is known for certain to be true, the other can be known for certain to be false. A belief system that contains both such statements is shown inconsistent due to this contradiction” (Rogers).
By creating clear definitions in any theoretical discussion, one will be led logically to explore reasoning, either deductive or inductive. This will guide people to see how beliefs and reality can coexist. An example of this dichotomy lies in any discussion of religion.
Christianity is an example of how a belief system within which logic is only applied sometimes; many events that were believed to occur can lack logical proof. This shows how people can overlook logic when faith is involved in someone’s belief. Another example might be when someone definitively defines something to be healthy because it was tested and proved in a controlled study. Common belief systems and logical models like these are inherently flawed because change is consistent and must be inclusive in beliefs. Contradiction of beliefs are common in Western society and must be acknowledged to notice logical flaws. Throughout history, this has occurred multiple times. The founding fathers of our country owned slaves during the time they were enforcing equality. In the 12th hundreds, the series of holy wars took place to purify what was done by Christians.
Why would a group of people believe in Biblical stories that aren’t scientifically proven, and still believe in science? Many stories in the Christian Bible express what is called the “Word of God”. Contradictory beliefs are a phenomenon in Western society based on facts from the CIA. About “46.5% are Protestant in the United States” (“The World Factbook”). The majority believe in something that isn’t factual, yet people still believe in it anyway. Sometimes, people overlook what appears to be logical to worship a different belief. A portion of text from the Christian bible says:
“Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided…” (Exodus 14:21-31).
If people have enough faith in a story, then they will believe it under any factual, science-based understanding. However, this is contradictory to what some people believe because in this case, some people believe in science but only sometimes. To believe in science sometimes, is merely taking a logical model of reality and then making it convenient to what you believe in. It is also an example of how faith, logic, and beliefs can all be manipulated. By observing beliefs systems like these, one can show how contradictory our beliefs are to maintain our precious belief systems.
The effects of possessing blind faith can be both rational and irrational. Faith without proof is an indication of trust in the unknown. Some might say that faith can be proven through biblical scriptures. However, that perspective in based simply on interpretations of translations.
Is this sentence “This statement is false” true or false? This has been an ancient puzzle that hasn’t been rationally solved. Famous Greek philosophers have died, without solving this disturbing statement. An article from the “Curiosity” website explained further: “If the sentence is false, then it must be true. That's what makes it a paradox. It's an argument that leads to a self-contradictory conclusion.” (Hamer 1). The paradox that is from the sentence “This statement is false” has many answers and continues to be open for a rational answer. This is to show how contradictions have existed in history for decades. The issue it has on how we handle contradictions affects how we handle dilemmas throughout life.
How does one know which foods, liquids, and supplements are healthy when different studies contradict each other? It is important to realize that in Western society, the internet with many online sources and accessibility to them are being exposed to more people who are interested in being aware of what is good and bad for you. An online video that was hosted by Olivia Gordon, a member of a YouTube channel with 5.6 Million viewers titled “Why Nutrition Studies Keep Contradicting Each Other”, addressed studies that were proven wrong. She then further explained how randomized controlled trials take place. In the video, a study was cited about the health benefits of wine:
“In 2012, a randomized controlled trial by Hungarian researchers found that adults who received resveratrol supplements showed an improvement in a bunch of signs of cardiovascular disease” (Saleh).
This correlates with wine because it contains a compound known as resveratrol which can lower cardiovascular disease, according to this study. By this time, it was a fact according to many people, and created an epidemic about wine being good for your cardiovascular system. Gordon explained how both science-based test groups and some people’s belief systems were proven to be wrong, according to a study calculated in 2014. Gordon then replied with: “In 2014, an observational study of adults in Italy didn’t find any effect of resveratrol on signs of cardiovascular disease of mortality” (Saleh). This shows that studies can be contradictory, whether someone wants to believe in it or not. It is important for people to see what appears to be fact as an unrestricted model of what was found. When scientists discover something new, it doesn’t mean that it’s conclusive. People who finalize their beliefs from a new conclusion in science aren’t open minded to what can happen in the future. Logically, this is key for understanding beliefs about nutrition and health because thinking that one study is definitive, eliminates any other viable possibility. History proves that change is consistent. Acknowledging how some people create their belief systems, can help people who are aware of this have a deeper and meaningful life. Most importantly, believing in something doesn’t have to be definite because evidence can change the outcome of a study.
The understandings of philosophy and logic helps people question facts. Logic is understood by following models that are based on reality from facts, studies, and sources previously mentioned. We use models that leads to our understanding of our physical and non- physical reality. However, change is constant and can alter many things that are perceived to be fact. This is important to discuss because including this factor in one’s belief system may guide them to explore their own and analyze the system that creates it. Being aware of how people in Western society maintain their beliefs takes it to another dimension. Flexible thinking is an efficient way to adapt to the change of new facts and studies. Belief systems are very diverse throughout the Western society. There are serious flaws in belief systems which can lead to a commonality of irrational thinking. The primary topic mentioned in this paper revolves around the contradiction of beliefs. When we cling to our beliefs, logical consistency becomes nebulous. We prefer illusions to retain our beliefs. Even if you wear a mask, is the truth still there? Or, is it okay to believe in an illusion?

Works Cited
“The World Factbook: United States.” Central Intelligence Agency, Central Intelligence Agency, 1 Feb. 2018, www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/us.html.
Saleh, Nesreen Abu. “Why Nutrition Studies Keep Contradicting Each Other.” YouTube, YouTube, 18 Apr. 2018, www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPIQ7YhE4cE.
“Deductive Reasoning.” Philosophy Terms, 25 Oct. 2018, philosophyterms.com/deductive-reasoning/.
Rogers, Luke C. Personal Interview. 28 Apr. 2019.
Hamer, Ashley. “The Liar Paradox Is a Self-Referential Conundrum.” Curiosity.com, 19 Nov. 2016, curiosity.com/topics/the-liar-paradox-is-a-self-referential-conundrum-curiosity/.
“BibleGateway.” Exodus 14:21-31 NIV - - Bible Gateway, Biblica Inc, 2011, www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus 14:21-31&version=NIV.
A final paper for a college English class :)
Combat....

though morbid in nature, there is a sense of beauty....

for example -
the bullet and it's chamber
the slickness of steel, and the power of the trigger
which together correlates the symphony of motion
from the time the trigger is pulled, to the
daunting escape of a bullet, and then finally to the ******* of it's victim.....

Quite morbid... yet hauntingly beautiful.....

Then come's the bullets quintessential cohorts

The Chemical and The Armored Car (a Tank)

The brutal barrage of steel cartage
crashing into unstable masonry
then the soothing smog of golden mustard gas...

The echoed shrieks, the violent shakes,
the ****** eyes and mucus filled noses
whose violent episodes finally conclude
when the eyes of death stare back at them...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....

The finally... how can we forget the noble foot soldier?
his footsteps, silent to the earth....

out of the hysteria and chaos
two men, two weapons, and a whirlwind of emotion  
nationalistic pride, paranoid fear, and  scattered  tranquility...

A sign, as is to say....
"I don't want to fight, but I have to..."

Which all correlates in the ****** of the bayonet
a twinkle of blood, and then finally the gentle weeps...

Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....
Kee Dec 2015
i like apples
but i don't like apple pies
i like cheese
but i don't want it on my fries
i like school
but do you really think i would do if i had to?
i like you
but i don't like your attitude
are you understanding my logic?
i won't like this because it correlates with this or it's combined with that
**i like what i like, and that's that.
Cyril Blythe Jun 2013
Grumble

Of pugs. Or old men. Correlates to the grouping
of wrinkles: smile lines (down) whiskers (up). Synonymous to a gaggle of geese. Or women.
A grumbleman steps on the Pug's tail
and a passing girl hears
a crack, yelp, ****. She turns to help
but the grumbleman is gone and the pug
with him. She wonders why her neighbor's car
is still at her Mom's house? Why her Mom
wants to be called Veronica not Mary. One night she dreamed Veronica dancing on their roof
in the rain holding tight to an old red picture whispering to a woman on the lawn dancing
dry in white. She tried to call out to Veronica
she saw her slipping, but when she touched her lips
She felt them sewn shut with coarse, wet thread. Veronica turned and flew to her, to the window, grabbing her hands forcing fingers to feel
the brail graven into her Mother's giggling teeth that read, Don't look, your father will be bleeding soon. She awoke and her window was bound
in greased black leather. The floor ashen. Her lips still sewn
shut.

Anne stood,
picked out her fathers bones
Veronica had sewn into her
pillowcase
and
she
danced.
B Kenneth Avery Nov 2012
Dedication:

Nectare bred of an artist's haught testament—
        brings only stunted buds of tastelessness.
Be it naught for the height in numerous tidal of Muse—
        to cause the strike of warmth in bruise.

Upon the cheeks shadow'd in might—
        strength of amour upon near-sight.
You!—Blossom, are of a frightful power—
        to journey nestled mind of dark tower.

As though a hawk perched higher than the peak—
        of mountainous and controlling streaks,
Colourblind by potent affair lost—
        by centuries of sicken'd fever crossed.

By and by another name, honeyed pursuit—
        yearning that cause a poet becoming mute.
Meagerly, he instead scribes his burning allegory—
        that shall cause a life—eternal fragmentary.



Dangers of Kimberleigh

“Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want.”
― Louisa May Alcott, "Little Women"

I.

When the morning demands you and I—
        our ghosts shall pass empty resides,
Against fields where lines opposing light, force and bind—
        of Angel's breath and Dæmon's spine.

Of shrieks louder than their first meeting's kiss—
        residing now—perfection upon midnight's bliss,
Abiding near the tender gardens upon the blinding dark—
        creating haste of love-song made by grave Skylark.

Who in joyous play—should cause collapse—
        towards serene, augmented lapse.
Lapse of falling, of where gentle screams—
        of every child that's ever been,

Who stroke themselves against empty glass—
        and where visions pray upon the grasp,
Of wind—Of blinding—Of melody—
        to hold faint—Immortality.


II.

This shall be where morning seeks—
        no longer calming of beauty's cheek.
Instead to lash with vain and hostile mount—
        crimson over dashed and harsh doubt.

Until image engraved by forgiving rite—
        speaking neglect of fiend or fiendish blight.
In-versed—coole angelic heart to passéd—
        passage beside Lilac's memory in mortal castéd.

In the unwashed Earth, where the unwashed play—
        'till they unfairly capture it from younglings— Away.
Lonesomeness of watchtowers in gossamer's breast—
        when airy words strangled from bless.
  
Reachéd by the hand—abide in fable—
        quiet tho—in fruitation, a single silver Maple.
Shyly envisioned inside salvation's solitude—
        where tenderness drowns tenderéd concludes.


III.

The sister was lovely—inside my sight—
        in our union—created Nature's first night.
Through our throats rendered fragile lullaby—
        which slaughtered silence and made soldiers cry.

Her bristles—exploit in darkness—I could not see—
        or merely recollect in memory.
A mouth moving inside of mine—
        creatures in mawkery of untouched divine.

Eyes whom beatéd harder than the breeze—
        to remind me—gently of the ease.
Of being caught in cognitive stance.
        which leaves surrender to in traditional, disciplined dance.

Upon the backs of universal forestry—
        and inside their stomachs to where we would meet.
Offended to death by requiem—
        made inside our faint dream's drum.


IV.

Where dreamer's would lash upon in endless screams—
        innumerable Rubies ruin'd before their first gleam.
Upon reflection in lover's loss—
        diminished to demise before their first gloss.

It is upon the fool's finest end—
        where lies his fantasy—condemned.
The jester who remains as undefeat—
        before death shall cause lackluster's retreat.

Unaware tho, in current mode—
        as body by body closely will hold.
And messages of Gold conspire in streaks—
        immersed—affection in mind eternally correlates oblique.

Ringing and humming throughout what laid—
        against blonde grass from Sin was made.
Refraction's cast that betrayed—to promise me—
        endless nights of haunting harmonies.


V.

Held tightly in grieving bourne—
        broken—in new blood is sworn.
Across the snow-cover'd Evergreens—
        where the temptress grave is left unseen.

Not upon her kiss—did darkness fall—
        alone—in shining pieces did crawl,
Against creator—and thus creator hence—
        bitter loving shrouded by bare defense.

As her finite skin had laid eternal flesh—
        of what laid inside Pine's parting mesh.
Holding and crying out for uncertainty—
       feelings moaned into sudden Mercenaries.

Morose and fledgling in their stand—
        spiritéd to Death's light misunderstand,
Of peerless eyes and broken brooks by the sea—
        casting ruined cloth over our Evergreens.


VI.

Unfurnished dawn may scour for length of furnished night—
        quick—until mirroréd ebbed ocean does wrong.
To consume the idles of Man's afraid mind—
        fairest—lest His idles struck into divine.

Exclaiméd none tho, in archaic lust—
        deceased—firmest in high robust.
Where pleasure finds comforted pause—
        inside arched-back in neglected cause.

Betray the shallow grimace flee—
        and ethereal composed by the breeze.
Lies delicate delusion before sorrow—
        that shall thieve away the Artist's morrow.

And in thievery is where the Angels lie—
        angelic beasts with unlawful guise,
In courts—castrated by the throat—
        hardened in assumption by blackened elope.
Argument: A paramour in his youth reminisces upon the topic of attachment and devotion in his unrequited infatuation after having the harsh reality of yearning and his memories come across his frail mind due to waking up from a dream he thought of as being a nightmarish realm that resided in a deep sleep after an exhaustive and forlorn'd day. The poem appears in three phases: The false appearance of the admirer finally inside a catacomb of mutual love in bliss after a long-while of misery; the confusion and untouched heart slowly being composed inside a mixture of both love and loss; and finally, the innamorato becoming awake completely and being torn by the realization of the falsehood of his fantasies and wishing to be able to go back to his previous slumber and having the image return untouched and yet also having the horrific realization of having the aspiration of mutual love, seeing it, intellectually, as futile.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
You know, it's funny how some things manifest themselves from a thought or a sudden feeling.
Like a collection of thoughts that have always known themselves but in a strange twist by invention manifest themself as that same thought or emotion.
For the last 15 minutes your picture has been the best snow globe ever invented!
Actually it's been longer than 15 minutes but the number 15 correlates to the first conversation we ever had.
Taking 15 minutes to realize somethings don't actually need a response.
It's the happening that makes it oh so special.
With every shake I see the snow fall and it sprinkles across your face just like I always pictured it would
In Life's matrix of possibilities,
outcomes can be reduced to an array -
For the mixture of cursing and blessing correlates
directly to choices not carefully weighed.

With God on one axis
and Satan on the other,
challenges from many of Life's trials
have various payouts, from one cell to another.

From the earthly consequences,
which are the result of our actions,
we're ultimately responsible
and not saved by divine intervention.

Avoiding the repetitions of mistakes
until we learn to properly play,
requires heed to spiritual instruction -
For our Salvation awaits the day.

When it comes to being Godly people,
let us not grow weak and weary;
within our grasp is a winning strategy
that supersedes this World's... game theory.





Author Notes:


Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Jordan Frances Nov 2014
My childhood was measured
By smushed handfuls of red raspberries
That stained my clothes methodically.
By counting sports cars instead of shooting stars
After all, we have enough in the suburbs to last us a while.
By "don't touch this" that comes with the affluence
Of one of the most prosperous counties in the country.
By butterfly T-shirts that were stitched together with secrets
By people picking and prodding at my size
By "if only I was skinny" vibrating my eardrums
As I had heard it from so many people before I hit the age of 12.
By being different
As at thirteen, I had no interest in make-up or push up bras or jocks
But punk rock music and a boy who was a little bit more dangerous than I anticipated.
By unwanted touches from uninvited men
Who took it upon themselves to show me womanhood
Before I could identify it myself
By the way my father stopped looking at me
As though I was his little girl
Because he began to find out where my skin has wandered.
By how my father had stopped looking at me quite some time ago
Because I was never his skinny spitting image of perfection
By the way he criticized my clothing
Told me if I wanted people to make fun of me for my size
If I wanted people to call me a ****
Then I could wear whatever the hell I wanted.
When I replied that I, in fact, did not give a flying ****
My mother chimed in
"Well you should."
And by the way complete strangers have told me to go on a diet
While others have screamed from passing cars
"****, baby, look at that body"
As though my body is my worth
And as though my worth is something to be measure
I have been taught that my worth is something tangible
That can be compacted into a little box with a pretty pink bow
Stuck on a scale and weighed
And that the number I see on that scale
The number of pounds that my body physically contains
Directly correlates with my worth as a person.
Do those strangers that hound me about my weight even stop to think
That I spend hours in front of the mirror
Pinching my skin into too-tight jeans
******* in my stomach because I just want to look my thinnest?
Do they even wonder about my past
How I have tried to diet and that is the only time I can remember my father
Treating me like a decent human being?
Oh, but I didn't lose much weight
In fact, the only time I really lost anything significant
Was when I was bulimic.
But they don't question that either.
And to the strangers who catcall me
That "body" has been abused by men I have trusted
That "body" has lost all control on a bed when a man took it from her
That "body" is strong, healthy and beautiful
It is not just a door mat for you to wipe your paws on
It is not just a *** toy whose sole purpose is to satisfy you
And then be thrown away
Is this what it means to be a woman?
To have your personhood and purpose in this world
Be quantified and made so it can be held in the same small palms
That smushed raspberries at six years old?
I hope that my worth can someday be more
Than a measurement.
sleeplessnxghts Dec 2013
Things that go bump in the night like the roar of the raging lion deafening your arcadian silence
Like the face of a wolf chasing you in your dreams, claws out, jagged teeth already sharpened, salivating at the scent of your fear
And the sudden crash of the lamp on the ground because your clumsy thoughts blew it off the stand in a rush of puzzling ideas and jigsaw hearts overflowing your mind

The fishnets sloshing the seas through the holes, piecing together lost trails of a failed relationship, letting the salty essence linger behind, drifting to the saliva glands inside your mouth
And suddenly you're shot up with a narcotic, straight into the veins where he used to live, vacating the premise, making room for a sense of euphoria that consumed me as a whole

A treacherous path ending with a unceasing fall off a cliff where the rocks slipped too often, and lessons were never learned from the kids next door
Cracking floorboards circumference the room where they used to talk in circles, collecting feelings and saving them inside the pockets that somehow found holes in themselves

Then the wind emulates the whispers hiding behind the fading foliage of the trees that secured everyone's trust and captivated their souls deep within
Violent kisses used to tear my skin apart until a gun to the back of my head held more depth than I've ever experienced in my whole life

I searched the sand for the purpose I wished to hold in the palm of my hands but it sifts right through the solid foundation of my finger tips that rot with poison ivy
Ever since I felt the tree that infected me with  the venom in the form of sharp bristles and empty sap sacks

Whatever the blue sky may represent, I see dark clouds forever and a day, even when the sun returns my calls, and with a bitter tone and a touch of sizzling rain, offers me a chance to see the bright side they all dream of
When the opaque sky eats the sun I find solace in home, where the stars collect my secrets like coins and hold my wishes like the hand of a boy I thought I once loved

I morph into the worst version of myself when the screams encapsulate my emotions and my face is no longer skin and bone, but vicious fangs and yellow eyes
So what, if I differ from the rest of the pack
A lone wolf or a raging lion, I am not them
And I never will be

Until the rings awaken me as my eyes flicker back to their hazel nature
And the bags roll beneath my eyes, with a darkened presence treading under
And the sun returns for the day, a gift I cannot return
And I walk down the same road, leaving the covers rumpled and the sheets entangled with one another

The mess correlates to my dreams
And all of the hearty burdens I continue to bestow inside the treasure chest deep under the ground
I shall keep these somber ideas and thoughts at the top of the bookshelf, a place you'll never look, a place you'll never find
Just smile and fake it until you believe in it's proximity to the truth
SVL Jan 2018
It's about 6 months later,
And your name continues to roll off my tongue
Like desperate droplets of water that,
Had by chance, gracefully made it's journey through the canopy of a forest.

It's about 6 months later,
And I continue to be tantalized,
As I reminisce about the moments of your very first touch.
The steady beating of your heart,
As my head lay stolid against your warm bust.

It's about 6 months later,
And your name still feels like home, yet so far away from home.
So close that I can touch it with my heart, but
So far that I can't even reach it with my arm.

It's been roughly 6 months later,
And I'm still not quite over you.
Your poetic stained lips drew me in like a bee to a flower;
******* up every single drop of nectar I could,
Concocting pure honey out of our love for each of us to devour.

It's about 6 months later,
And I am still entangled within your love.
Without the slightest intention of breaking free;
In hopes that I'll be somehow trapped for all of eternity, but,
Then again I have to think.
"Is this really the best thing for me?"
"Is the distance now between our hearts too far out of reach?"

Because it's been about 6 months now,
And it seems like you've moved on...
It's funny because I thought we would be together
Till Michael Jackson decided to sing another song,
Till Perry Christie gets re-elected, or,
Till Donald trump likes black folks at all.
All 3 things simply impossible,
As the thought of me and you not together.

But, it's been about 6 months now, and,
I'm beginning to feel a little bit under the weather.
"Together forever?", my friends would ask.
"Did you not hear me?" I would say
"Together forever, but for real this time...I'm sure of it...Trust me,
I know what I'm doing...I....love...him."

It's about 6 months later,
And I wonder every day if the thought of me ever crosses your mind.
If you think about us laying down watching the starry night sky while you're on your high,
If you happen to laugh from time to time about our silly inside jokes.
Remember baby, sigh...sigh...sigh...todo.

I sometimes ponder as to if it was real or was it just another story that began with "once upon a time",
But I always seem to find myself missing your poetically inclined, open mind, ******* you're fine,
Please take up all my time,
My heart begins to beat faster and faster.
****, I hope this story ends with "Happily Ever After".

It's about 6 months later,
And I pray that 6 months from now,
You will be able to look into my eyes and remember me
As the girl who has the audacity to be beautiful
Even on days when everything around her is ugly.
The girl who correlates your name with angels of a heavenly choir Singing at the beautiful exodus of her flight into the heavens.
The girl who was not afraid to get up in front of an audience
Of people she did not know,
Not only to prove to you that she was worth it,
But to pour out of her heart the startling truth...
That it's about 6 months later, and I am still solely in love with you.
This is something that I wrote over a year ago after ruining a relationship. The situation is long over with, in the past, and has no correlation to the present, but I felt as though I should share. Thanks for reading <3
A Lopez Apr 2016
The problem
With
Poli-
Tricks-
They mention every
"God"
But the only
God-
And they wonder
Why their lost in
Misery-
Ashamed
In darkness
Falls- evolution
In schools
Meaning no
(Morals)
Their standards
Are that
man's a
Monkey, using
Euthenics( reviving ******) in their
Man-made
Mural's.
Eat your cereal
Live life as if we have the
B
L
I
N
D
E
R
S
   ON-
Though my eye's are
Uncorrupted ( not seeing through misty nighttime glasses)
Breaking to the other
Side
Of the
Fog-


    Science correlates with dios
And dios with science-

Yet popular belief
Is a tool
Of diablo's
Machine.

Reaching into the dome
Of the great
City-

Where America
Is astray
With the globe
In the horned one's
Mean's.

Has the man who said
There is no
God
Just walked out into nature-

To see the spectacular
Creation
On a universal
Scale?

Yet their bucket's of
Disbelief have been
Shown beneathe the
Veil
Where the impious
Are stale
And their
aspiration
Is
None!
Denise Jun 2012
it's being alone
it's being judged
by shallow people
who think my worth negatively correlates
with my pant size

it's knowing that isn't true
but secretly thinking I deserve this
as if somehow my outsides reflect my insides
it's being so concerned with making myself better
that I'm making myself worse

it means I have to try harder
to be better at school
to make more people laugh
because I can't rely on looks
I can't just be me
because my fat defines me
Mia Kay James Nov 2016
Person #1:
My oddness correlates with your oddness, and it's the most unusual sense of 'home' that I've ever felt.
Because of it, I've found myself quite content when we are in the same room together.
Saying my 'heart skips a beat' when you talk to me sounds so cliché,
but it seems to be true.
I wish I could tell you this in a way that wouldn't make you unsettled,
but alas,
my anxiety tells me you'll be uncomfortable with it no matter how I say it, so
I'll just write it here for now.

Person # 2:
You are a work of art;
are you aware of that?
Your whole aura leaves me
perplexed yet intrigued.
Somehow you are the definition of grace, but in the most unhinged way.
When you look at me,
I feel as though I matter in the world, though your whole personality screams anathema.
You are just a work of art,
and someday I hope to understand every part of you.
Because we are not very close,
it seems odd to tell you this face-to-face. That is why these words will just stay here for the time being.

Person # 3:
My God,
where did we go?
Things were so lovely back in the day,
but everything crumpled before our eyes. When I used to look at you,
I saw hope and someone worth my time. Now when I see you,
I honestly become nauseous.
I am well aware that some of it is my fault- but it's my fault because
I didn't stand up for myself sooner.
Why did it take so long for me to see
how shallow your thoughts really are?
All you were was collateral damage,
and after all this time,
it still affects me,
and it sickens me how
petty I appear to myself.
I don't tell you this because we don't speak, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Speaking is difficult for me. Writing isn't.
Venus Rose Vibes Apr 2013
A mud-brunette haired woman still beneath ocher skies is undeniably under the enchantment of a man's demise.
His voice weary yet comparable to thunder crashing when the sound waves dig into her ears and bang against the inside of her head.
A fallen Prince of Darkness is the man who would sew a slight patch onto her heart. Unknown to be a conniver when distressed, culprit of the fall-apart.
Demented knowledge correlates amongst hardened truth deemed to be full of light now lay empty, never-ending quest between the forgotten and the tyranny.
The woman with a channel of thought strategic in her efforts to place out of the normal forget-me-nots.
Ella Snyder Jul 2013
I decided to brew myself tonight.
Let the essence of my soul steep into the scalding water of the ceramic tub.
2. Unpacked boxes remind me of unfulfilled promises.
3. I leave my underwear on the floor for days at a time because my knees have been locked since the last time I spoke to you and I have never been able to bend and touch my toes.
4. My skin still smells like bleach and the pine wood that splintered into my hand.
5. She said that hurricanes are beautiful. I asked if she understood destruction.
6. The amount of dusty and empty flower vases I have directly correlates to the amount of missed opportunities have been blooming and hand delivered to my door step.
7. I am still trying to unknot you.
06/06/13
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
the brilliance of the darkness
served only to annunciate
the loudness of the passing silence

While the pervasiveness of the defeated idea
continues to occur in self-[a.s.s].embly lines
The nano utilizes a scope of micro to flesh out the macro

Simultaneous non-being
duly correlates to the emptiness of the tao’s ***-shaped,quantum hat
Possibility is endless, until you enlist knowledge as your retainer
The origin of all particular things is lost
through the knower being zenly slapped,

I just would have loved to help schroedinger's cat
pur.........
what a *****, he wouldn’t even open the box to check her.

Dear ∞ this is my letter to you while I let her be bound in quite comfortably in lazer-light leather.
Jennifer Arbo Sep 2013
the moon and beauty, and the night where it meets reminds me of december ~ of those from the distant past, which somehow made me feel like there was no lonely man before and after me.

tonight, there's the moon and beauty again, and the self who stopped dwelling on those december's. the self who knew and felt that somehow, expectations of what is grand finally correlates with reality.

tonight, just like any other nights, there's the moon. there's remembering about the process of forgetting. there's the feeling of existing and co-existing. there is actually much. you, me, and the skyway and the tollgates, and all the things that the moon hasn't refused to shine on every night.
heavy bored Feb 2013
I began to like my body more
when it was joined to a stranger's
I am sorry Shakira but my hips do lie
they told me that self worth correlates
to the amount of goosebumps on my upper thigh
and the number of first names in my contacts
because last names are too hard to type
in the darkness after the door shuts
MOTV Sep 2016
Please release this
Spirit fire burning like **** in a blunt
Blueberry this time

My mind already red
Eyes already red
Her time was far ahead of mine
meaning she saw it far before me

Meet me there
Left obstacles

I fell

Left it wrong
its okay
M.O. Live so long

Can't lie
I won't die

Can't Lie
I can't get fried

The "choppa" was out of my mind
I laughed as you died

As I got shot and fell down and saw you die I laughed

Relate the debate correlates the human mind is strange.

Not dead, just maintained
Getting up and going deranged
Making money on top of your strange

Days are over, the grass is green on all sides, flourished.

Death and rebirth, words again coming, cracking through the skull of the pioneer who meditates on the mandated flow in place.
Nash Wolfe Dec 2014
Its undescribable, hard to grasp a hold of

The force pulls me in, captivating my heart and soul

I lose control, my world is spinning

Rotating, as we play and switch our different roles

My breath is oblivious, as you softly whisper in my ears "I will never let you go"

We lie on a pile of roses, the petals fly high as we land

I fall in your arms

My security, my everything

My heart is pounding harder

As you glide your hand up and down my side

Affection I haven't felt in a while, only wishing we could freeze time

Sympathetic as we glance through each other's eyes

Everything falls to silence

We put an end to all violence

Unbreakable companionship, as we ponder through each wall

Circulation of our blood flow, correlates as one

Rushing in the same dirrection, even when the moon is not full

You fit the missing piece, the other side that makes me whole

Sleepless nights for enternity, the perfect harmony

As two joines together, forming a mystical fantasy

Discovering like a child, who just learned how to walk

Our desire is to search further, not ever wanting to pause

The emotion lingers with sensation, high quality of depth

Intriguing with each step, to love unconditionally

Promises to be kept, memories to fullfil

A vow to retain

" I will love you til death do us part. In sickness and  in health."

" For the better and for the worse."

I will give you my heart, my soul, my love

And through each storm we will stand together

United as one
Lucas Dec 2018
neon pepsi rocker
blue
behind a lucky hat
large like a thief of thick love

crying like nitrate
I stand
in mortuary
as a misanthrope
my porcelain skin
unclear
to sorted eye

I'm an alleyway-baby
and even more jackal than I look
hallowed be the wagon
upon which I hitch my limbs
sinewy and sunked-eyed
I am spider glass
working on wine for my mother
and sunshine for myself

and one more time
under ingot willow
hang with me
until confusion
correlates to clarity

run
Em MacKenzie Jan 2019
I’ve dreaded this imploding moment
my entire life unknowingly,
if there was a way to avoid it; I have blown it,
growing pains should end when you stop growing.

I’ve got speckle scars on my palms
they’re always kissing my fingernails,
there’s only one thing I’ve found that calms,
but the road collapses or the guide always bails.
“This is your brain”, but the egg doesn’t crack,
no sizzling grease rain, no white burning black.

It’s the things that feel the best that also cause the pain,
as you can only enjoy the sunshine when you’ve had a spout of rain.
Just like you can’t have a fire without an initial spark,
and you can’t bathe in the light unless you’re drowning in the dark.

But what if I’m tired of obvious consequence,
Hell, I’m tired of everything these ******’ days,
where self medicating was once used in past tense,
I think it’s time for me to revert to my old ways.

So fill a rig until it’s completely full,
and shoot me up with some false hope,
it correlates your method of push over pull,
but it’s still not as good as actual dope.
And let me rail a line of pure nirvana and bliss,
if you’re the one to cut it atleast you gave it to me technically,
if something was never there, how can it be something you miss?
I’ll keep feeding the habit until I can no longer breathe.

Destiny lost when fate found a wall of defy
to change it I would sell all of my remaining soul,
and I think I now know the reason why,
a bandaid won’t ever cover a bullet hole.
svdgrl May 2014
Don't do nice things
if you expect something in return.
Pretty simple, right?
But what's an act
without appreciation?
Endangered.
There has been a trend
of less kindness in this world,
that directly correlates with it being unnoticed.
Some are too self absorbed to ever really see,
that the best way to keep someone around,
is to show gratitude
in the sincerity of a handheld
eye locked
"Thank you."
without the time restraints,
the obligations,
the unsaid apologies.
There's nothing wrong with realizing
someone did something special for you
and there's nothing wrong with hoping someone realizes.
wordvango Aug 2014
the dynamical state of
a cluster is based on
and correlates to
the red shift
morphological
characteristics of equilibrium
in state,

or who collapsed
first

the Galaxy

in a reliable way
relating to us.

A background cosmology
study
of
me.
Venus Rose Vibes Apr 2013
She shudders at the world
reality as a whole
has recoiled into nothing more than walking corpses
confused in their role
to think about a particle and how it correlates to a soul
or how the wind decides a direction to blow
it all computes if you are open
possess the will to try and try again
for you fight your own battle and love from within
and acknowledge what is sin to begin
I would love others perspectives on this piece :)
Guled Hanad Omar May 2016
One thing or another,
One day or tomorrow.
Those define what is something,
Other than anything that is or should be.

The mind correlates to behaviour and behaviour to the mind.
Stop, stare in great detail everything that is on sight. There is no vision without light, but be wary of the presence without the light to aid sight.
Caitlin Wynkoop Oct 2010
Darkness.
Light.
What does it mean, really?
Dark is associated with bad –
Is it?
Light usually correlates with good –
What if God and I don’t see eye-to-eye?
Man –
Woman –
One to one,
But what if I don’t like anything
To be traditional?
I fight back
Maybe because I want you to show me that you love me
Enough to show me the darkness.
Love me.
Control me.
Show me I’m yours.
Just don’t mess with me.
Because I don’t know if I could withstand
Your games.
Copyright 2010 Caitlin Wynkoop
Dan Gray Feb 2014
As a writer, you have sat with words bouncing in your mind
Thoughts and ideas ricocheting around
Words colliding with words
Splitting off pieces of the alphabet
Letters attracting and coagulating into new words
A collective style of thinking
That places you somewhere else
Multi thoughts workings that correlates
To new ideas on a page
Always observing
Truly collecting
Feelings, emotions, life
Forming, the coalescence of all
Trickling in your mind
Until, through your fingers and computer
Your thoughts take life
Pictures  you present
Coloured by others thinking
Images started by your thoughts
Expanding and rippling through readers
They reaching within to acknowledge the words
All seeing different
But all triggered by your ricocheting words.
                      
                                  Dan Gray
                                     2014
Discouraged, I silently wait-
Anticipate the cultivation
of a new surrogate
slowly weighing down
the corporate weights

Generations have died

We need not new worshipers-
Though we preach and preach
of new ways of life

The articulation of a stealthy
misguided population
Rooted deviously within our realm

Subliminal dis-figuration
is cognitively calloused
Deeply punctured inside
the root of our thickly stems-

This, the way of the world

The capital effect
Leaves one hungry, starving-
and dastardly thirsting for more

A consumerist mind-set
Correlates abruptly
with this generation of
"non-thoughtful thinkers"

Consumption of supply
Regurgitating of demand

Are we senseless-
Or just sensible
in cultivating this disheveled war
on our possessions
possessing the rights of man?

Are we grasping at this
misconceived dream
That we can live long and dream
the dreams we feel we're destined
to achieve?

We are the result of the
reality we create and strive
to be

Don't be a commercial-
Be your own documentary
© 2014 Christina Jackson
Sarah Mar 2014
my eyes are full of girls dumbing themselves down and begging to be mistreated by boys who will break their fragile little hearts

14. The boys would gladly break those fragile hearts for 10 minutes of skin on skin in the backseat of a car

13. Im not one of those girls

12. Im not one of those boys either

11. I value a beautiful mind over a beautiful body and thats just not how things work around here

10. i like to write poems, drink tea, watch movies, and listen to rock

9. the problem with that is thinking differently gets you shunned and mocked

8. and the amount of skin you show directly correlates to how much you are worth

7. i like to wear jeans

6. So what am I?

5.  Im more than a thousand compliments, false promises, skin, and hands

4. I like my thoughts and the outfits I wear and the half understood jokes that I make

3. I don't want to beg for someone who is intimidated by a smart girl

2. and I definitely don't want to be just "hot"

1. so I won't
moral of the story: big brains are **** so don't make yourself out to be less than what you actually are to please someone else
Alyce Marie Dec 2012
You hang out in art galleries.
I try to balance my anxiety
Too many things to worry about...
I'll write you off one by one
Till you are no longer on my mind
Too bad I can't ******* write!
My hands hold negative energy
I try to hide them, cover them up
None of it correlates.
Caitlin Aug 2014
If you believe in the "capital G" God-
good for you.
If you believe in God(s) plural-
good for you.
If you believe God correlates to the flying Santa in the sky-
good for you.
Believe in whatever you want to.
That is your right as a human being.

But do not- I repeat-
DO NOT!-
Think that because you have a belief system,
it makes you better than those who don't.
You are not any smarter-
or held at a higher standard than those who chose not to believe.
If you can choose to believe, they can choose to disbelieve.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
i imagine heaven, as seeing copernicus balancing himself, while riding a bicycle for the first time, seeing how he theorised the imbalance of the geocentric model... mind you: the heliocentric model for writing history... kinda ******, isn't it? not much to go around, landing on the moon, probes to saturn, lovely pictures... to me? we're still living in a geocentric world, since most of history happens in the geocentric model, rather than the heliocentric model of: dwarfing man... plus, readings maps doesn't really help even if you know that the earth isn't flat... o.k. smart ***, you navigate a car across europe, from england to a remote city in eastern poland!

memory is such a fickle faculty of the mind,
made twice as fickle (some for of "natural"
selection) - most assuredly an ontological
anomaly - but i remember this one particular
morning, where i had to take a photograph
of the vanilla / raspberry / rose hue clouds,
while pumping myself for the day ahead
at 7a.m., listening to *jethro tull's

my god - ah, the flute man, i sometimes
imitate it, puffing out clouds of biblical
verse citing: the fire ahead, and the smoke
behind, will guard your path upon
the woken ask for: an exodus out egypt.
after all, i'm all for free speech,
but when a freedom is lacking,
and an insidiousness overcomes a first
comment of a site like you-tube...
       debating bands, "trying" to broaden
the young minds:
   i actually was introduced to king crimson
when i was circa 10 / 11...
      hell, depends who your father was...
people abused by trolls forget one major
point... the adrenaline rush you get
when being slighted...
      you know the effect of adrenaline in
this loser microcosmos?
  you know how powerful it can be?
you have to learn english a second time
even if you already speak it as an american,
or an australian...
              you have to pick out the best
bits: on the continent there's no such thing
as english humour, there's only
the macabre humour, or... dark humour...
prime ingredient?
oh don't be silly, it's not turmeric
(the poor man's saffron) - although that
could 'elp...
   it's? sar-casm!
     the english are renowned for it...
by the way, i once mentioned "chiromancy"
and i.q., i.e. how you hold a pen
or a fork / knife, or how you type without
ever glancing at the keyboard...
better add chop-sticks to the affair...
i prefer to call them pinch-sticks -
since you're most likely pinching your
food, rather than forking it...
and that: they're not exactly drum sticks
either...
            i wonder why high i.q. correlates
to culinary equipment...
        i fiddle with my beard,
scratch my head and state: no idea!
but... have you ever wondered why
thai curries are so much fresh than indian
or bengali? the indians use the base
of onion ginger and garlic,
and very few greens...
                 they're heavy on the stomach too,
but thai curries?
        so easy to digress on,
sorry, digest...
                   and these pinch-stick antics?
bewildering...
    i can't remember the last time i used
them,
but it's always the same cliche:
once you've learned how to ride a bike,
once you've learned how to swim,
once you've learned how to use chopsticks,
you can't forget how to,
even with a ridiculous amount of hiatus.
odd, isn't it?
   well, i find it odd...
see, when you come across a youtube troll
in the comments section,
be sure to turn a reply into a sarcastic snigger -
the english humour type,
recognise the adrenaline rush,
mention a small weener,
i know it's not exactly bungee jumping,
just recognise the adrenaline...
  and **** me it's there, esp. (like me) you've
had a few drinks "too many"...
it's easy prey... you can turn into
the most obnoxious antithesis of a troll
that a troll begins to cower...
   i'm not for safe spaces or curbing a freedom
of speech, but, come one:
you mention a few bands that are the neo-alt.
from the 1970s in the prog rock movement,
why settle on citing a want for kids reading
to led zeppelin... or black sabbath...
no one mentioned deep purple either...
guess what ****** of guitar store workers more:
deep purple's smoke on the water,
or led zeppelin's stairway to heaven?
  oddly enough? the latter.
i just hate hearing the news of teenagers being
"sold" suicide after being abused online -
esp. girls...
        come on, if you're being trolled,
turn into an englishman, become sarcastic,
watch some fawlty towers, some monty python,
and then spin it with things like:
i'm getting a hard-on, or: my ****'s getting wet...
pick 'n' mix...
          the only way to effectively disperse these
"saints" of free speech is to become
a bigger troll than they are...
  and how does one overcome a troll?
one becomes an orc.
alex waddell Jul 2010
As I look up, The constellations
you are
Dimmed by lights of burning warmth
is she
As far away as I drive,
you find bright
You've escaped

I'll learn to identify your skin
How light correlates to form
you are

Since I'm alone, you can't hold my hand
Can she?
Arcassin B Oct 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

Seeds of evil will grow and puncture any wound from the stomach up leaving illusions and wild fascinations,
Just as worst as Gotham City but without the bat blinded from the truth of situations,
Fathers and mother's crying ****** ****** for children's dissaperences on the come-up,
Will another person with black skin that didn't do nothing will end up shot up?
Times are hard I understand but there are things bigger than me and you bickering now,
Any fact about the world that I would kick to you , you'd ignore, you're afraid somehow,
If you're someone that'll rather be home saving up all your money while joining a crowd,
People in the afterlife will be amazed , progress would've paid off, I'm proud.

Purpose follows any plan and any agenda , God Created purpose so he knows what all applies,
The masters of war correlates with Hades leading to the end of some of our lives,
Some will stay and fight , some will run away and some will just hide and decide to flee,
Strong will survive and weaklings stay behind , don't want to be known as someone cowardly,
False prophets that pretend like they help in any situation would just get you lost,
Like a broken record spinning the same thing like a loop hell , there's no earthly costs,
Battling things in your mind but need some medications to hopefully warm the soul,
Stop hiding behind security looking for clarity , you need to be bold.

/

She said love was overrated and all I did was just drop my head,
Thinking you were happy,this was fake,I'd rather die instead,
I'm just playing baby,I'm not tryna' get you scare tonight,
Teaching me humility,there is no more room to cry,
We've both had broken hearts and nothing can replace the hate we feel,
Determined to show you a compassionate side so you could heal,
**** the stars and **** eclipses,don't have to bring you the moon,
Even though we don't conversate,I can't wait to see you soon,
Dreaming of a day where I could be the one to laugh with you,
I'm finding the nerve to have the courage not to deal with you,
Learning all the lies and all the secrets that you hid from me,
Now I think it's time for me to teach you some humility.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/10/see-lte-2-official.html
Shona Jul 2018
I'm afraid that, at one point or another, I'm
going to force myself to stop feeling this
way about you,
As I have done many times before with
others.
It correlates to the feeling of rejection and
hurt,
Enabling me to run away from my own
fears with my cowardice anxiety by my
side,
Gripping tightly to my hand and furthering
away from you.

                                              Whilst there, at this new home and safety
                                                          ­                                               of mine,
                                          A woman asked me of why I'd run. Why I'd
                                                        used up energy to escape a lovingly
                                                        ­                                   positive feeling.
                                                        ­      And created it to be a bad thing.
                                             I explained to her my past, and how it has
                                                          mad­e me fearful of a future in that
                                                            ­                                             regards.
                                                        ­                  She showed me a garden,
                                                        C­olours strikingly bright to the eye,
                                                            ­   Buzzes coming from the insect's
                                                        ­                                            excitement
          ­                                And I'd noticed, within a large group of red
                                                             ­              roses, there laid a yellow
                                                          ­                  Leant against a red rose.
                                                           ­             I asked her, why only one?
                                                      And why within the midst of all red?
                                              She told me she'd painted it, for whatever
                                              reason she wasn't sure, and she was quite
                                                   certain it was slowly killing the flower.
                                        She asked me which I had noticed first, and I
                                               told her the yellow, to which she replied:
                                                   "Out of a large group of red, your eyes
                                                            ­  focused on the yellow. Out of all
                                             negatives, my dear, you should only focus
                                                           ­                              on the positives."
                               "Of course," she added. "Only in these situations."
how are red roses yellow, part 2, is essentially a poem based off of dream I had, mixed with my own words of positivity encouragement & briefly from what I'd been told by 2/3 teachers of mine from school last year.

— The End —