"detects" poems
Providing evidence to myself
I sense boredom
As adventure
But solution to a rusty bolt
Without smeared oil
While unearthing self
Before boredom detects you
In the vicinity
The environs speaks
Actions are no curiosity
To be nosy
While others exist with their dealings
A character brings passe'
To detect
But not evaluate
The boredom
Which leads to nowhere
How can a heart stop pulsating?
Only to have no charge
Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 10:48 PM UTC
I like making
plans I know I won't make,
I just like they're there.
It's sort of like how we prepare
in our cars with airbags.
Sometimes we thank God
they're there.
I like waiting at
bottoms of skyscrapers to catch
cripples' stares on stairs.
It's living up to a dare
trying to walk with one leg, one
crutch going up, look at their
Stares on stairs.
It wasn't a hippy
in tie dye that gave me
that squabbled piece of peace.
It was a horrid beast
who claimed I was the first
to not shoot, he gave me his last
Piece of peace.
I didn't like the tone
of his voice when he said
you can't bare the bear
Even outside the lair
you'll shave his fur and run your
hands in your hair, you
can't bare the bear.
I have years of your
wind pattern because my
vane detects vain in your veins.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Waking up the morning after,
I can only recall the excessive laughter.
The great vibes shared in one moment in time,
It was all so beautiful, the highest of highs.
****
My glance embarrassingly detects
the frightful fact the mirror reflects.
A bathroom tagged with the night's mistakes,
Rorschach like markings of drinks and rare steaks.
Always said "Yes", lacking all inhibition.
I wish last night I lived its definition.
So I readjust my head and all of the fixtures,
and pray to god no one took any pictures.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Hero got a phone call,
From the being with three eyes.
So often his existence,
Could be validated by advice.
It is then organised by rhythms,
So that the words solidify,
If the chaos cant be structured,
Then all vision is blinding light.
Hero said to the being,
“I fall in to infatuation with such ease.”
The being said, “You’re seeing,
Your own love reflectively.
“Your brains mirror neurone system,
Causes you to smile at a smile,
This mirroring of others,
Allows for formation of a tribe.
Now you know this wisdom,
Think of your romantic life.
The subject of your infatuation,
Did not cause your love inside.
The love all humans seek,
Is already in your possession,
Which is why the search feels bleak,
You’re hunting the impossible obsession.
You’re all looking for your lost keys,
Tearing everything apart,
All the while they’re in your hand,
Or your breast pocket by your heart.”
Hero nodded rhythmically,
But found it hard to understand,
“If the love’s inside of me,
Then how has any love began?”
“A lot of love is a product,
Of false infatuation;
Two people seeking it from each other,
And thus there is divorce and separation.
But true love is the love inside of you,
Which is the love of the universe,
If you can learn to embrace this,
Then it will free you of your curse.
The mirror neurone system also detects,
The love inside as if it was a grin.
Within another, you’re existing love will reflect,
And embrace and share this world that the two of you are in.
It’s not a swapping of hearts,
But a pressing of them together.
The look in her eyes was not the start,
The start of love was forever.”
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
My dear, it rained last night
And I remember
The alleviated rise into
Lush sobs and lavish emotions
The way your dilatation relieves
Every worry and anxiety
But sometimes when we speak
A violent lie radiates
And last night you were naught
But an alienated virile sot
A view unholy I omit
I remember the tin roses on the tiles
Devastated, shattered.
Sometimes you hum
Your hands delicately miming secret memos
And I can see it in your eyes
Irises shining like teal devils
And the music carries you
White with adrenaline, pupils likes violists
Headwaiters lie, strumming tin violins
Their alienated visions wilted with passion
I see the way she cleverly conceals
Lies as vows to you
A veil called "us" she puts on "me"
And I call for mutiny
But youth is vim, vim is now, and now is lies
Every hug from you is just a violet whim
In noisy rooms
My vision is misty
My aura dies little,
Oh if only you could realize your reign
You’re the master, the ringleader
But you’re lazy; you work without zeal, you’re idle and lazy
Eyes glazed, agile hands getting greedier
Have you ever seen
A dearer lion?
He roared, the lonesome rider
Alone, an alien.
Well sometimes you lie
And I dare to become
An oral denier
My radar detects one lie,
Then two...
You become red
Redder than a ****** lion's ear
Adieu, you say, with a gently undefined lilt
My tears speak more reality than your words
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
excellent ears hear the secrets whispered at dusk
incredible intuition detects the creeping predator before it thrusts
marvellous mind can always find a place to hide amongst
crawling up into the corner of the ceiling like a spider, stay there collecting dust
May 18, 2023
May 18, 2023 at 11:03 AM UTC
IF you hold this poem up to the light.
it will interpret your dreams.
Just beneath the surface,
the dead use this poem to claim lives.
That is an orphan.
It says this psychic reading may cause it to bleed ink.
It detects irregular heartbeats
by the accidental, the psychological.
This usually means three things:
*** ***** gambling.
When certain people get special powers
dial 1-800-F-O-R-T-U-N-E for only 99 cents per minute.
The mystery is, this poem can crack all family secrets
if you put it under your pillow,
processes that seem to be outside
the physical and natural laws.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:24 AM UTC
Childhood dreams, detailed and cherished,
Youthful ideals, concepts of destiny
Slowly discarded, cast aside
Off-course, anti-catharsis
Devolved in a simmering cauldron
Of so-called detritus
Mid-life-fucked-up-crisis
Perception's considerable door
Care-fully cleaned
Care-freely swung
On silent hinges at dawn
Approaching dusk, against the jamb
Corroded, dust-caked-cobweb ports
Psychic day-to-day crap
Hope crawls through filament drawn tight
Contrived devices, filters and screens
Oozing in, despite the ever-contracting slits
The cocoon we have descended into
A spark, an entity detects the tiniest crack
Strikes the door, shattering, dissolving sub-conscious
To delight, cosmos, ethereal, infinite
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
It's a feminine eye that first detects
absurdity as a condition of existence.
In the deepest resources of my unconscious,
in that place where ego slept in the ****
I knew she saw through me like
Roentgen X-rays of my soul.
Ultimately, it was my pride that
caused us to fly in different ways;
burning love had poured
from the lamps of our bodies,
shrouded in mystery,
like the day of a king or
more adroitly the nights of a queen.
We had found identity, yet
all signs of subtlety,
any shred of relationship,
were forfeit to the pale mackerel sky.
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 3:48 AM UTC
More more mere words linger rather obviously...
obviously what could one possibly be so obliviously...
Observational objectivity detects: Lurkers lurking to linger probably cling to love's fragile edge?
An arousal of viciousness or visage of immense beauty art performance presence...more relationships steam a shore.
Balancing hearts on the in deep starburst sapphire blue floating more.
More to be revealed for shore.
More...
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
A fine feathered partridge she is,
he listened to her moving tale.
A game bird, pathetic, but
her story has holes, he easily detects,
yet he sat through, willing to believe.
In the middle of contradictory attitudes
now he wonders, how strange is this
willing suspension of disbelief!
This is how tragedy creeps in,
right in front of one's opened eyes,
yet he is with her, ready to buy trouble.
A fine feathered partridge she is.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Personal memories that linger on the edge of forgiveness
Sit heavy on minds that are relentless
A silly blue dove that flies in the sky away
With a secret that saddens every one of us
A provision and a problem mixed all with transfusion
Beauty that detects its own solemnity
Tells itself it is ok.
Crashes against itself like some ancient book
Upon some ****** shelf
Yeah that date that made the mate feel an elation
Where the tiburons buried their 39 sons together in a mournful wake
Waking for all the wrong reasons in a house made of sticks and spots
That a dog had dropped all along the neighborhood parking lot
Bill mad hate always was so fuckin' late
Inspired to corrupt himself within the carnival fields
Of masked men marrying themselves to an image
Distorted with membership to clubs gated and wounded and founded
Again
In confusion
A literary agent with security cameras attached to the torsos
Told me
"There is always more so, especially in California"
Where the Ker-o Ker-o played
And the marmit sisters were made
Where the Galli fast paced listeners
And the Hager with her blisters
Where the streets curved all the way to the hot east west
A mixture of healing tonics along with the river bend erotics
Power penetrating the hot ***** grinder Simone belters
As ye who make me who I am
Am nothing without the sound of the universal plan
That universal mam a jam
That hippity hop madness clap
All along the corner stone littered in gritty gold
Mad love between the bad luck crew
Living a life they seemed they never believed to choose
A took that right hang along the way
As she took my left
And we walked around these naked river bends
Saying this a' thing and that
Ain't nothing but the blue mockery misfortune
When she comes around me house
Ain't nothing but the blue corn row corners
When she is a knockin' on my door
Ain't it true, ain't it true, ain't it true
I can't live with you
Nor
Can I live without you
May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 10:02 PM UTC
He comes and goes
A man no one really knows
He’s there when you’re alone
Still as a stone
Sadness he detects
And closer he gets
He’ll devour you slowly
And takes your mind wholly
You deter him from time to time
Yet he’s always there, just waiting to climb
He whispers things,
Bad things that’ll break your wings
Sometimes he’ll whisper the sweetest things
Oh, what a joy that brings
He offers you freedom
And acts like a beacon
You’re afraid to take it
Fear to fall in that pit
Be strong you must
Don’t listen and trust
For he’ll absorb positive emotion
Slowly pushing you to the ocean
Be careful around him
Don’t let yourself take the swim.
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
The drought has broken and we’re getting some rain
it’s so good to know that we’re in favour once again.
The land was parched and everything on it dying of thirst
‘cause it took such a long time coming for the rain to burst.
The Lord of nature must have heard our prayers
and granted us some reprieve from death’s cares.
Though it seems as if there’s still a long way yet to go
the immediate and pressing danger is over we know.
Many areas around and people suffered due to the lack of rain
it was getting to be such a huge emotional and financial strain.
We can only sincerely hope now that it will put things right,
so that we can all get on with our lives and reverse the blight.
One can only but wonder at the cause of the drought now
whether in fact we contributed to the hardship somehow.
We know that certain actions produce undesirable effects
when ignorance is so widespread no difficulty man detects.
In fact whatever is carelessly thought, said and done takes its toll
and causes an adverse reaction in nature which then plays a role.
This is the unfortunate legacy that most people find very hard to respect
because it limits their false sense of freedom they’ve all come to expect.
____________________________________________
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 8:38 PM UTC
It’s not like it matters,
No one will think twice.
These disposable efforts mean so much to us,
And, at times, we cherish them too.
Though the higher you climb,
The worse off most are,
For the toll, is indeed, a high one.
It’s not that you’ll fall,
(Though soon, you may welcome that),
But near what’s rumored to be the top,
You’ll find, you’re often alone.
So finding an average,
A cool medium,
Has become all but uncommon,
But even so, what’s to come,
Of those few who actually challenge the gods?
For what sort of blessings do lay still?
Far is it from Dubiety,
Though equally close,
We expect too much, and leave room for displeasure.
We bring it upon ourselves.
Then I had a thought, why the way of humans?
But why not the way of all life permitting?
How not someone revered could leave life unnoticed,
Yet someone exalted should be saved,
Truly leaves long trenches in the pit of my stomach,
Due to lacking a notion of why;
Why it is we strive so hard; And if for immortality,
Then for what sake and by who are we granted this perquisite?
What Blessings were laid on the lives of those,
Whose memory would outlast the Earth,
Really made worth of a mortal’s own time,
More so then any such swings of the hands?
For what even is our own worth?
As when his eyes fail to save him,
Upon what would that broken man fall?
Naught but more than his own disparity,
Wedged between black reality and his own thoughts.
Forlorn, despairing, and void of all sense,
He collapses, deader than dead.
I shudder to dismiss this, (or any) conflict,
Away as I would a cobweb;
But he who detects the flaws of himself
Before do his enemies,
Will end up much stronger than those opposed,
As he already severed his soul.
Nov 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010 at 8:01 AM UTC
~for betterdays, and all Aussies~
the fires massifs all around, the smokes surrounds,
the house invaded with closed-out-of-college students,
mother and father who are similarly workless, a fire bounty,
all this a treat to an nine year old (no school) boy and his dog
newly self-appointed ringleader, the little boy,
in his fire heaven, with a gang to command, to entertain,
some adults, silly college students, who don’t know “no,”
when he says this is the game we are playing next
this vignette, is not a Manhattan variety^
but an insight story heard, unwitnessed, but of
those who tell the tale, unwittingly, of finding small joys
amidst sky-full clouds, all grayed bunting of burning stink
few wiser than my old, tired and smokey clouded eyes,
though, one yet detects those who are truly not lost,
those who are found, and those who will find them all,
and lead them to the safest places inside themselves
and my heart and brain, at last in unison,
forgives the restless adults who with grownup worries,
yet can! just barely detect those mini joy-rivulets among the whiffs
of destruction and bravery, losses and new hands extended
So I ask, Mum, what game shall we play next?
Perhaps, Noah’s Ark?
Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 3:21 PM UTC
.
Whining, it happens when blizzards come calling
Grabbing a jacket I walk down the stairs
Beside the window where winter is lurking
Waiting about as if nobody cares
Coating the trees with a cottony fabric
Not quite as warm as the heater detects
Here in the handbook of problems and answers
Only for masters to come and inspect
Grabbing a scarf from a shelf in the corner
Pouring a cup just to dance in its steam
Maybe some sugar so life can be sweeter
And just a dash of your half and half cream
Kicking the mud from the boots made of rubber
Purchased on sale at a shop on the beach
Next to the flip flops and lotion dispenser
Low to the ground and so easy to reach
Those were the days when the sun wasn’t hidden
Blanketed white like a sheet on a rope
Held up by clothespins of wooden construction
Seeking a breeze with the fresh scent of soap
Shoveling sidewalks and not chasing seashells
Feeling the cold as it bites through your skin
Running a faucet to thaw every finger
When will it be time for all this to end
I guess I will go out and trudge through the weather
Deal with the snowflakes, the slush and the sleet
Before too long I’ll be sweating the summer
Probably whining about all the heat
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 4:16 PM UTC
The belongingness in your eyes
the cherished blossoms and sunflowers
touch of caress
and blooming orchids
spread the meadows of love,
In tinted sun
intensity ablaze's sparks in my heart
like waves
crests and troughs form along
un-steadying my heart beat,
Scent of jasmines and tulips
disperse with the wind
your soul here somewhere
detects its whereabouts
and connects with my sixth sense,
Like tides
it rises
and carries away left over residue
cleanses the hate away
replacing only love.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 5:45 AM UTC
In Arctic stillness, where the whiteness becomes as the sore
a deep call of redemption, her pack alerted to the wind
caution reflect not fear, somewhere a wolf is near
a ravine down below, detects movement a little slow ...
Crunching way down deep, somewhere a wolf comes face to face
with humanity on hunting and little knowledge
survival is the norm, by a bullet and a deadly whim
wilderness is his blood, mankind to such atrocity ...
But bent, it seems, is humanity, on hunting in scared boundary
leaving destruction in their paths, the wolf forgotten again
with mortal animosity, brings sadness that emits a warning
a she wolf brings her flight, the while wolf brings much fright...
Frozen tumble waiting to sink, watches the wolf as her voice will be heard nature adorns her various fur, leaves try to break the incurable fall off in the distance, sings an owl, a turtle lay basking on a pebble bask slowly the wolf sprints over the mask, before swopping to catch the ill fate of the hawk....
So beautiful is the wolf, as she sleeks to and fro
catching the rays of the sun and the darkness of the night'
dusk settles, the horizon becomes orange
as the beauty of the wolf, fades fast to the midnight hues....
Debbie Brooks 2014
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
*A strange yellow smile draws a wired look on her face
she tells him in a crude whisper, that a beast stalks her
in her discombobulation, he detects the withering.
a desperate flower sometimes mysteriously invites
a flower forced to bloom before her time, was her
only in the closed vault inside her chamber is it's secret,
her hands strongly grips him, not letting him leave her
and he could feel the presence of the beast then and there.
Then, little by little her grip becomes cold, lets his hands free
she slips in to a trance, body gets stiff like a log.*
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
When you feel all hope is gone
You refuse to carry on
Please lift your head to the sky
That is all the reason why
When your heart detects the pain
Tears start to fall like rain
You are loved, so please don't cry
That is all the reason why.
When sorrow pulls you to the ground
Your pain you wish to only drown
The grace of God will get you by
That is all the reason why.
Although a love you cannot see
Love lives for eternity
The heart and soul shall never die
That is all the reason why.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 10:34 AM UTC
One may observe one's quite absurd,
And question why one's not deterred,
When one hears what one's observed.
One's world abounds with wondrous places,
Peopled with mosaic races.
When one blurts out a black man's black,
One says one's not a Democrat.
If one detects one's hue of skin,
One says one's not Republican.
But one is blamed for mouthing words
Like Indian, Paddy, Jew or Kurd.
One's innocuous indiscretions
Has one's eyes rolling on occasions.
Should one be blind to the homeless,
Then one can't see one's not blameless.
When one supports a Pride Parade,
One proudly says one's not afraid.
If one's an anti-abortionist,
Then one must help the Innocents.
“The sick and dying are a great expense,”
One yells demanding the same treatment.
One preaches hard-line on foreign shores,
Would **** the ******** in one war.
One's a diplomatic boor
(And one's glad it's there and not here).
If one knows one conceals a gun,
One's compensating for the wee one.
If one encounters a common thief,
One should keep one's company brief.
Should one hear a politician,
One needs to separate fact from fiction.
One sees terrorists everywhere
From the confines of one's chair.
One speak of one's impending doom,
Looking out from one's room.
There's so much angst one lays on one,
Yet we are one,
We're not one.
Our time here has ebbed,
Will flow,
One must leave.
One must go.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
It's better late than never
to tell me how you feel
though it seemed that forever
our love to last was real.
To remember all those times
when we were together
is to hide our loveless crimes
Pure Love had to sever.
On the spur of that moment
which now has come to pass
by love's ill-fated foment
causing such an impasse.
If we both had the courage
to look into our heart
so as not to encourage
each other to depart.
But love cannot be denied
what its seeking to find
a union which was espied
before it became blind.
From within its depth rises
that feeling to express
devoid of compromises
with True Love none the less.
Could there ever really be
a love that's so sublime -
beyond what most people see
which comes from the Divine?
In the flash of an instant
when someone least expects
Grace bestows Love to supplant
what less love it detects.
______________________
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC
Since day one you’ve put me to the test
Month 11 and you don’t even consider me your best
I try to do this I try to do that
Trading in my *** for tat
But nothing is ever enough
This relationship is getting tough
You tell me you have doubts
I’m in school busting my *** and you’re
worried about clout
It’s not fair
Tired of losing all this hair
You make me stress
I’m a god **** mess
If I’m not what you want, then leave me
Stop telling me everything I’m not and what you wish I would be
If I’m not the girl of your dreams then there’s no reason for you to buy a ring
Don’t waste your time and don’t you dare waste mine
**** is hard enough with our age
I don’t see why you need to add all the rage
You tell me Ive got better qualities than hoes
Well **** I guess once a play boy always a play boy and if that’s what you compare me to then go back to those
You said you’re heartless and I’m starting to ******* believe it
You say I carry myself like a *** then go ahead and say with a blunt “my bad” and ******* leave it
I deserve respect
I’ve been nothing but loyal to you no matter what your insecure ******** detects
You continue to project your ex onto me
As you sit there and tell me to push you into the Atlantic sea
Well I’m drowning and tired of your half thought out decisions
Each pain-filled lie you say to me is like a ******* incision
You say I’m too good to be true
So why the **** does a blood like you not care when you make me blue?
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC