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(info)
Used to input additional information.
(Informative knowledge)

Brackets;
[data]
Used to insert determinative clarification.
[Clarifying knowledge]

Braces;
{sets}
Used to represent reflective choice.
{Intersubjective/Intraobjective knowledge}
The meaning of true is false
blinded by brainwash and ignorance
reminds me of the ways you made me repulse
masked by a thing of brilliance
I hope you see what you need
It's me
I see it in the way you can deceive
God, your naive
I don't mean to rhyme
but I thought it was time
to put you in a place I've been for years
Lonely, disgusted back to the tears
You were divine
Made me be blind  
best friend, not
who would have thought
That I would be writing this thinking of you
But no none of this is new
should've seen this new present
hot flash, think back, and make me resent
But now we're though
Don't you see the meaning of false is always true
I wrote this about someone who i thought defined forever
LI f E: A Prison.
Pain: Something I always feel.
Fame: A waste.
Blame: Something we all do.
War: Death, Pain, conquest.
Flame: Something we all have in us.
Death: Freedom.
Love:  No Definition Found.
Emotion: Pain, anger, hatred.
Definitions: A point.
This is another one of my older poems that I wrote awhile back, and as always, Don't forget to tell me what you think!
Star BG Apr 27
Definition of a poet  (1)
One who scrapes their knee and writes about it.

Definition of a poet (2)
A person who is an expert in playing
their heart stringed instrument.

Definition of a poet (3)
One who can recognize another poet and bows.

Definition of a Poet (4)
finds inspiration inside the breeze
and behind a memory.
This is dedicated to Dr. Paul Lim A master in the art of poetry that supplies insights. Number three is for you.
fragile fingers trace the firmament
while our minds need time to get fermented
there are hundreds of ways to say you're sorry
but nothing is capable of defining you
unless you’ve already given it
the power or permission to
Pyrrha Aug 2018
Although I can't change the words you said
I can change their position in my head

What once was
'Your sparkle becomes a shadow in her brilliant light'
Will become
'Her sparkle becomes a shadow in your brilliant light'

If soothing the pain of his dull blades takes believing in those lies that shift the truth
Then so be it
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2018
“there are no lines or lies in my writings
there are no definitions and
perception is only your truth”

Jackson *******


my poems are splats and drips.
you make them into paintings that hang
in your own private museum,
signed by you, truthfully, forever,
as first viewer,
and thus as,
co-creator


Nat Lipstadt
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jackson_Pollock
natalee Dec 2018
when we kissed, it was like we created our own language
so how could you forget me
take my heart, then vanquish

we talked about our future
how we would be together
now you play our love off as a rumor
even though you said we were forever

so i’m confused
how you call yourself straight
i feel misused
so could you please elaborate?

we were once exclusive
our bond could never break
or am i just stupid
and one of your mistakes
uselace Jan 28
you ask for a definition
but does anything have a definition?
the universe
for example
is always changing
definitions don't account for change
therefore
the universe is undefinable
there is no definition for me
because of that same reason
i am always changing
and definitions do not account for change
i am undefinable
seven billion people in the world
and no definitions
capable of describing them
and their change
we are, all of us
undefinable
i am the *** girl,
the depressed kid
the photographer
but that will change
(maybe not the *** part)
everything else, though-
i will be in a better place
eventually
i don't know where that place is
or how people will try to define me
but truly
i am as vast
and as beautiful
and as undefinable
as the universe
and everything in it
we are undefinable.
Everything is so much more interesting without definitions, anyway.
Smoke Scribe Mar 2018
all poems write themselves, following plans that are drawn only
as the poem goes along, neither leading or following, but
carrying the writer along as first violin, a VIP passenger,
the first viewer, a consultant but not a conductor

a poem is written based on what has happened
a poem is written based on what was hoped to happen
a poem was written based on what could never happen
but is so well imagined that it is more real than if it happened


I willingly tell you I will not tell you which is what, for there is no difference between them for the writer, the first passenger,
though undeniably fully aware of the quality of the ware
that is proffered, plottered or just perchanced

perhaps you are thinking, but of course,
this is the way,
the way of all of us,
the way it has and will be and no
disclaimer needed for no believable claims are made

perhaps
for the weave is oft tight, tight as near-truth, and so well imagined, it wraps the first passenger in a cloak of skin
that actually feels, though cloaks cannot feel,
but belief is easily eased

there are no lines or lies in my writings
there are no definitions and
perception is only your truth


Therefore,
my poems are splats and drips.
you make them into paintings that hang
in your own private museum
but authenticated by me as
first viewer,

3/13/18
1:09am
Kenji Nov 2018
It's mortifying...
The dilemma, the time lapse, the wait, the clock.
The abstract that I so blatantly describe in my other writings.
Time cannot be paused, stopped...
The abstraction is so formulated into one diverse piece, the creation of such is appealing, yet reformative.
Inconsequential, to the matter of science, myth, philosophy, conduct, and everything that exists beyond our mind.
I hold onto this creation, because the conclusion of the matter holds many intellectual debates that cannot be won or answered.
It is forbidden, it's lost.
The question of right and wrong holds many definitions that are inexplicable to the concept of reality itself, when the utter illusion holds the introspection that philosophers like myself, cannot give a precise answer to.
Time will let us be.

It's a quiet storm, and I've never felt like this before.
Sometimes I think, you're just too good for me.
Nothing to say ...
Matthias Aug 2013
Intro:
Start with a hook sharp enough to catch many fish.
Move into a broad outline of topic.
Add some examples to peek the interest.
End with a sentence that captures your thoughts.
(Start the way you feel it should be).

Body:
Flavorful topic sentence to open paragraph one.
State in detail specific examples and definitions.
Follow with a reference or two,
This keeps suspicion off you.
Keep same format for paragraph two and three.
(Continue on the feel that increases how you started).
(Or retrograde and start a new direction).

Conclusion:
Wake the reader back up with thesaurus found words.
State again the reason for your thoughts.
Honing specifically on what you want to say,
Without of course bringing in new info.
End with a memorable sign off.
(End with completing your thoughts).
(Or start a new idea entirely),
(Not leaving enough room for explanation).
Smoke Scribe Apr 2018
Passover or Easter or Happy Any Ole Thing, Sam I Am

she
asks me good naturedly
which to wish me - a happy this or that
and a poem’s immaculate conception is instant arisen arising
hot ****

rueful smile and unruly reply
a solid out loud Ha!

neither either or he writes and so believes

for I am a god loving man,
whom we’ve -Him/It/Me have agreed
that I may call
Sam I Am
and the answer to your question is
why not

for most quests and questions can be well-answered
why not!

my genes my historical beings my ancestors and my issue
all declaiming that I am a jew who left egypt, no defaming, a slave to no man who cannot love another like his own self

but some in all that I write, this deity boss slips in quietly unseen in one of his jokes-on-us-disguises like singing ave maria

and thus whose to say
his rightful name, is not
Sam I Am

my choice and the big D
     (a self-employed informal his choice, nom-de-guerre)
has agreed via his acknowledgement in his normative style of
low volume taciturn tacit acceptance

so wish me a u happy
anything you want-to-call-it-day

don’t matter. but know this u were there
when, all on that happy day where, @ the manger,
when this Sam-Approved-Appeared
poem was born and Sam blessed it with a
hot ****!

she laughs, tosses back in my face, some schematic I
prior penned that I can’t recall the when or where or my
nom-de-guerre employed but fits this ex-slave perfectly

“there are no lines or lies in my writings
there are no definitions and
perception is only your truth”
happy
beau·ti·ful
/ˈbyo͞odəfəl/

adjective


a thing with soul
Kai Feb 22
Beauty is a concept
a misty morning without sight
the tree near the road
we know it's there
yet cannot see

Beauty enduring
forever with us
and in our sights
we define it over millennia
beauty is everywhere

Beauty is a concept
textbook definitions and simplicity
but in societies diverse
it is undefinable to all but the individual

Beauty ephemeral
always changing
in constant flux
never the same to another
beauty is no where
What is beauty? Is it a simple definition in a textbook of shapes and appeal or is it an every flowing river twisting and bubbling into millions of individual pools? How can we define what no one sees the same?
Robin Lemmen Oct 2018
Now when we are together
There is familiarity in your eyes
Our bodies like magnets
But our hearts no longer align
And every small difference
Between our definitions
Of wrong and right
Of care and love
Screams louder than memories
Making me wish I somehow
No longer knew you
And we were strangers again
But the thing is
You always find my calm
Still my ever aching mind
Hold on tight
Let me go all at the same time
I am not sure which is better
What would be a kinder farewell
But I anticipate that this time
You and I
Any and all concepts of us
Has settled for a silent last breathe


Goodbye, our time has come.
Ilunga Mutombo Aug 2018
Edger Allan Poe inspired me
Shakespeare educated me
Maya Angelou raised me
These writers created a beast in me
A beast of emotions, words that lack definitions
Only existsting in my expressions

Ideal to the common citizen
I write with a pen full of love, curiosity and pain

Emotions that have gone blind, to common sense, and swallowed a pill full of ego

I realize I am worthless without this pen and this pain

I write of love as if I feel it
I write of Justice as if I need it
I write of human behavior as if I need to fix it

If I am to die let my words live on within your emotions when you read them
Forever and ever I hope you feel them
Jamie Lee Sep 2018
What is truth?
Is it the actions we take,
or the words we break?

Is it what we lie about,
to ourselves?
Is it what we hide,
from others?

11 definitions exist,
to explain it's meaning,
yet none are the ones,
we are searching for.

"I'll believe it, when I see it"-
does that make it true?
"Actuality or actual existence"-
we don't see all that there is.

When I set about to find
the truth I've been chasing,
I look to know who I am,
in the face of this world.

I look to find answers,
that will keep me going;
I have chased truth,
and it's face is ****.
Helina Nov 2018
Love every inch
Love ever curve and scar
Love the body that carries your soul
The soul that thinks there should be a goal,
a goal to be perfect
Because the World has told it so

They say you're too skinny
Then they tell you you're fat
Your mind wants to blow
What have we done to our world though?
Why want us to suffer mentally?
living up to societies expectations
Fake photos, and photoshopped *******
Why make us all follow their fake idea of perfection?

I am more than just what meets the eyes,
No one else has my skin, my body, my hair, my mind and me all together
I'm unique as I am
I will ignore their definitions of "beautiful",
Not going to hide under pounds of makeup,
Not going to hate myself for not looking more like them,
and not going to hide from the world
I WILL BE BOLD AND GO,
Let them all see who i want to BE, instead of the mask they wanted to see
The mask covering up the real ME
I will stand up straight,
I will keep my head up high,
For me and all of society
Praying one day, this will all be over with
That we will stop defining "beauty"
I will fight for our right,
Our right to live as how we are made
No more being afraid
Angelina Oct 2018
Infinity amounts of definitions could not depict
The extent to which a structured norm
Is measured
Blindness adjoins clarity, while sight provokes vanity
It is an aspect unhindered, lacking certainty
A single word yet so many portraits
Drawn on the canvas of our linked pathways

If you ask me about beauty, don’t
For my lips would quiver nonsense to you, to me
The mass of the universe that surrounds our whole being
The endless rows of glimmering stars that speak to our vulnerable eyes
Or perhaps, the raging force of life that springs from within us

If you ask me about beauty, don’t
Because you would have to look at yourselves to see
The beaming smiles corresponding with velvet risings of cheeks
The abundance of glistening tears that have embodied those very same
And even, the flashing spark of joy which invites a feeling of utter content

If you ask me about beauty, don’t
Otherwise there would be an influx of sentiments towards
The prettiness of colored nature, steadiness of height breaking hills
The calmness of the bare sound of waves clashing into an advocacy for peace
The building blocks of surroundings that determine you and me

So if you ever want to ask me about beauty,
Bare the consequences in mind
Just the elaborate thought of such a question
Could raise a plethora of reasonings
Ahnaf Apr 7
Dead in bed
mourning my death
in living amongst the living

but I live
and so I keep asking

Where is that sliver of light
that's meant to slip through the shades
and give me that last morsel of hope
to chew on for days and days
until it's mush, but I still gotta chew
because that's all life has to offer

Where is that rush of emotions
that can defibrillate my dying heartbeat
and give me that last reason
to squeeze and squeeze till it's beat
because there is no other way
no other meaning

But I could live in a world with no meaning
devoid of reason
without definitions to cling to

Because there is too much meaning in this world
All your symbols, all your f** standards
make me less of a human,
and there is nothing worse,
there is no way worse
to live in a human's world
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