"devalues" poems
Limbo
Black hole quasar pulsar star meridians oblique oracle messages from beyond the lost between the bureau of the forgotten
Dreams images disjointed some admirably projected on the screen of the mind they tell you a mystery where is the key
Like being in a library books everywhere any subject any topic whatever your taste or fancy but without retrieval how rotten
Space fascinates holds men enthralled the searching of the cosmos the whole of life it has consumed the overly curious
What I’m talking about is if you could take a meteor shower put it in a black velvet bag capture true magic hold for your disposal
Take droplets of rain speak to them and they would obey your voice become for one hour that which you desire most from life
Find the passage to the center of the mountain a gapping cave where a true oracle is beheld divine utterance her real espousal
You take knowledge long hidden disperse it among the most troubled and confused and aura breaks and arches those of need
Life’s dilemmas and contrasts these intangible twisted knotted fields of gloom you touch bows unknown understanding blooms
Course contrary buffeted by unpleasant wind oh to know how to rescind make rays of hope grow in resplendent rows
The common coal fired and pressured over millennia does purist light ignite the mind soul and heart in excitement it consumes
Striation found in the cold glacier this natural marking take from it learn the soul has divine grooves that only play spiritual tunes
This might sound farfetched but one day it will be the norm for Gods family the unexpected the unbelievable your daily life
Now we are in neutral or the drive is mostly in the natural like you build the best house then someone sticks up an eye sore
There is the contrast the conflict your spiritual house shines then your enemy self wrecks and devalues ruination rife
The spirit oracle revealed that the devil wants you as a trophy in a case how nice God wants you but he wants you as family
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:43 PM UTC
as space sufficiently expresses, or succinctly paraphrases with the concerns for time: or hue, or suntan, or baritone hummed weakening into a humph... crazy-bone etc.; sometimes poetry is so much more than the usurping of onomatopoeia... life is the essence of being timed, but that's hardly the essence in the space we occupy - over-versed thinking never formalised toward an outer-reaching imagination that might become copper-raindrops' worth of Disney, or a way memory is made adaptive to cure dementia... yes, space is the essential component for the compartment of life... i believe time has no place in what's to be called life, i believe time exists, but on an Olympic scale, in the metres and millimetres, on the minutes and seconds scales... space is the essence of life: so diverging from known apparatus to unknown operations, thus so diverging from known operations to unknown apparatus... and so on and so forth, until dinosaurs roar and we merely say: yawn - arrogant in our guise.
true, space devalues time; as said the people between us who we never had a meal with, but had the crazed look of craving an unnecessary contentment with despair. can i guess at something? i like your alphabetical onomatopoeia, i.e. pun for knocking, a sorta p p p / b b b, not necessarily needing the suffix for rhyme, why is it that poetry requires the echo, why not rhyme upfront? anyway... but it's there, that alphabetical onomatopoeia... a repeating of the first letter, like opening an oyster... which contradicts the orthodox methodology of rhyme... meaning that there's a repeated seance of an opening... which (although alphabetically staged to a prevailing repeat) equips the reader with many more surprising alternations - basically you begin with what rhymes alphabetically, but not necessarily phonetically: the lost suffix -ing via i had a cat called blinding, and he said all things were shining... one of your poems enabled me to spot this reversal of poetic orthodoxy, in that the rhyme became less musicological, and more rubric enlisting a coherent schema, such as a list... or rhyme via propped first, and cascading into oblivion, never really minding the waggling tail of a bouncy-ball of accepted verse. aardvark and acupuncture... the rhyme begins with A, and ends as it should end, diverging, so there's no feel for a repeat akin to drum or rhythmic bass... otherwise: shout an A into a cave and hear an echo... that's what poetry is damnably worthy to congest one's thinking with... don't rhyme: echo! and ensure that echo is alphabetical rather than musicological. perchance lessened talk, i too would have revised this example with some worthy emoticon.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
(please come to order)
i'm over here BAFFLED
by the righteous
surprise of women
and poorly portrayed
shock of the gents
over the downfall
of men.
have we all been
inhabiting the same
country | culture | school | work |church| family
?
stop being foolish
and stand before the judge.
you teach your children
nothing of
*** | gender | relationships
and then are surprised by the disfunction
and shame coming to light.
we don't educate our children
with facts
so they don't know how their bodies work
and don't understand
the nuance of relationships.
girls should act like ladies
and boys shouldn't cry.
girls, be quiet and never cause a fuss.
*boys, grab the world by the ***** it's yours.*
and now you gasp
in surprise at the results?
please.
you hide knowledge and
options from girls
then condemn their poverty
condemn their parenting
and now wonder
where it all went wrong?
teach them to never walk alone, anywhere, EVER.
hold your keys in-between your fingers
tear out eyeballs and other *****
if you must.
maybe none of the men know
we are taught this as children?
that our entire lives revolve around
keeping ourselves safe from men.
and it is ALL our responsibility.
no matter what happens or doesn't happen,
it is somehow always a woman's fault.
fed a false narrative of the stranger
when most of the time,
is the known man
that causes the most damage.
that flies lowest under
the radar.
that has power
and influence
and the ability to hide.
but don't provoke the poor boys.
under no circumstances allow
your body to be seen,
but also don't be too covered up
(because then how will you get a man?)
jesus, guys, get with it.
[don't be sensitive]
what's an *** slap here or there by an utter stranger?
what's the big deal when a dear friend
suddenly lunges at you and grabs your **** during a normal conversation?
what's a little verbal harassment, he's old, it was normal then?
a strange call into the office?
a hand up your skirt?
it's just boys being boys.
it's time to stop this.
it's time to stop feigning ignorance.
you are responsible for this.
full stop.
just like i am.
but my silence ends today.
and i will not contribute to
a society or culture
that devalues women
for the sake of the
male ego.
stop acting surprised by men
behaving without integrity.
by criminals
and predators.
and for FUCK'S SAKE
stop | electing | them
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 9:20 PM UTC
I want to hold the sun, as a flame.
As a shroud that no longer needs his name.
Devalues his origin, and the costs incurred.
I'll dissolve in the furnace, my body deferred.
It is not the burning that I truly seek,
But a quiet surrender, at a radiant peak.
The kind that evaporates matter aligned,
In myths of forever, leaving time behind.
I want to watch as light rays become dust.
As suns burn hollow, saturate and then rust.
Not where I'm dying, but morphing sublime.
A process dissolving emotions and mind.
To hold the sun is to grasp at gold.
Abandon the flesh, that's grown tired and cold.
To slip through the cracks where mortality turns.
And breathe in the silence as lungs start to burn.
For there is a place where the ashes belong.
Where shadows are living and scream with a song.
Where the afterlife is not just a realm I'll behold,
But a quiet ascension to a gnosis untold.
With stars I share a secret. "The Divine are forgiving".
Their quantum doorways are their gift to the living.
I want to walk through, with that luminous flow.
My transmogrification into the unknown.
To hold the sun is to become its light,
To no longer struggle in the dark cosmic fight.
To emerge as the stardust that I know is pure.
Lay the illness of a life in defeat by Deaths Cure.
♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 3:23 AM UTC
Affection draws me to you
your every part and every moves
and shatters me to pieces
your hair that falls like lightening
sparkles with thunder on my darkest night
like routine, these days
and shatters my conscience
like all those trees falling
helplessly, grotesque and broken
constellations shines in your eyes
and in my eyes are phosphenes
of your images blurred by shadowy lights
floating down the drain of my brain through my heart
as i slowly lose what was once so dear to me
i fall miserably in the salty tears
unable to swim across the dimples that forms in your cheeks
when you smile
i try to stretch my lips from ear to ear
in vain
i am not under my control these days
i have forgotten to love me
since you declined all the love
i showered over you
and that love now flows down the gutter
like monsoon rain
my once big bright enthusiasm now floats around
teasing me to despair
together with smokes of cigarettes i have just begun to smoke
i have been such a reckless lover
you have been always been the better one
my favourite lines of love poetry
which i seem to relate has turned to some
crazy language i can't understand
all those days i sought to hold your hands forever
i dreamt you by my side
brought you all my life, i could't lose
i fed to you, affection so annoying
now life devalues day by day
you have been a chain
even with regret cannot be undone
i wash my hand time to time
unable to wash you from my heart
i turn back and look at you
splitting me away...
from morning to night
as i barely survive
residing on the corner.. dark..
waiting for lightning
thunders, flood... silently
extinguishing the light of my life
with the candle dying over the note
i used to write love poems with your name at the end
does it even sense
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
Your soul not worth its weight in gold
Your lust devalues love within
Your pulse is thawing asset slush
Your greed decays my crawling skin
Your pools of excess no one needs
Your reigns of power crash on stock
Your floods of wealth they trickle down
Your drowning debt's my doomsday clock
Your mass consumption starves our dreams
Your trade deals drain our wishing well
Your tax breaks crush our frailest hopes
Your free market's my prison sell
Your loans are predatory sharks
Your health plan is a ponzi scheme
Your advertisements bleed me dry
Your credit card's my guillotine
Your profit's my minimum cage
Your cost of life insures my death
Your wage, my concentration camp
Your price tag's on my final breath
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC
Must we lust?
Can we stop
this deadly sin within
from showing on our skin?
What are we even lusting after?
Daughters and sons
and the untouchables.
They say lust
is the root of suffering,
devalues love, devalues you
to nothing more than
merely a lust of the blood
and a permission of the will.
They are right, of course.
But O to be lost in delight, even for just one night.
Then - when we've quenched this lust
- then what?
Move on the next thing that takes our fancy?
or move on with our lives?
what's the point?
We're already guaranteed our own special circle.
Must we lust?
these things we lust
do rust and turn to dust
only to blow away
at just the smallest of gust.
Causing more suffering.
Yet, we lust on.
We trust in lust.
We must lust,
even if it kills us.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
slender words pressed flat in the expression add water or tears for that matter and complete the circle.condensed is expanded as pain.gains structure. Reality. In all dimensions.
Stroke of the pen
Will of the wisp.
Stiletto thrusts keenly then leaves wounded flesh to grieve in silence. SIXPENSE for my pain. Valueless darling you..
Days late and millions short.cervical stenosis devalues hindsight.
Disabled in foresight.
Cant look left nor right we carry on.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Fitting perfection into imperfection; ****
Destiny’s paths in a fallen world; crooked
Sticking to the original script in spite of modification; stubbornness
Purpose contrary to the films of the soul; conflict
Bogus revelations from false prophets; false rights
Subject to the interpretation of the bearer; truth
Scripts that leave with a new feeling contrary to believing; doubt
Birth of belief and place of surrender; the heart
Authority to rule and reign; ‘Kings and pawns’
Set against enemies, an army; game of chess
‘Come with me I will lead you;’ submission
‘I will lead you to the light;’ enlightenment
Do without questions; acquiescing
Ability to choose but submitting; ‘Free will’
A path of morality and virtue; noble
Journey led and guided by a sage; life
Multiple paths and closed doors; labyrinth
Noble hearts and genuine allegiance; humanity
Unfeigned confidence; tried and proven
Result of weariness and exhaustion; stumbling feet
Inability to walk along due to doubt and disagreement; separation
A journey of backwardness; digression
An act that devalues; abasement
A sentence that is unjust and from a hot judge; wrath
Crooked paths lead to broken streets
Broken streets lead the soul into debasement
Debasement leads to corruption
Corruption leads to horrors that make a freak
A freak of nature
The result of lies, lies, lies.
A broken plot
A bogus belief.
P.S; written at 5am(16/04/14)
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:00 AM UTC
Loneliness is an acid,
That eats the threads of your sanity,
Ushering a tidal wave of depressession.
Loneliness is extreme poverty,
Leaves you mighty
Bereft of happiness,
Bereft of relationship,
Bereft of love.
Loneliness is like a delicious piece of cake,
Lying forlorn in the fridge,
Which no one desires,
Soon to stale,
Thrown away, unwanted.
Loneliness is a chasm of emptiness,
That devalues your self worth.
Loneliness is having a seat in a corner,
With fake smiles,
A lonely heart,
And an empty feeling that comes from within.
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 5:19 AM UTC
I wish that I could live in my own house
Where my brother's and sisters live
Where my birth giver and male parental unit call home
A few things stand in my way
The emotional disconnection gives a slight separation
The abusive love and controlling tongues play a part
The creepy old man who touches me in ways no one should
That.
Definitely is a big part.
I mean when you got your Father card did you skim over the fine print where is says protection? Did you forget your glasses so you couldn't see that it said, "must go to a loving home"?
I mean these are all technicalities.
But me?
I'm not. I'm your daughter.
It sounds weird the way it rolls off of my tongue. The metallic after taste, like I've just been slapped. Daughter. Something doesn't seem right.
I mean why have a home where you feel loved, supported and valued. When you can live in a place that devalues all that you are, for all that you stand against.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
Love succumbed to a mere defition of words, is Love exercised in vain.
Love is an entity and quality of God....as A matter of fact, Love is God....
Love is a product of faith and without faith, Loving would be senseless.
Faith is substance of all that we can not see, but hope for....and faith is what adds value to that we see ahead.
To Love with 'understanding' is when understanding will actually cease to matter, not because what we feel doesn't matter but, 'understanding' devalues the matter that we feel.
Love is measured on what you feel for the next person and all you hope to share and not because of what they can return to you as a measure of that which you invest.
Love will fail when the past is the measuring stick for what you have, over what you could have....don't waste time on what you can never change.
Reasons why Loving becomes difficult, is when Loves has expections of a response to what you give....and therefore question would be.....how much do you measure the returns of profit on your emotional investment?
Love is made easy when it is done by you....strengthened by your own prayers and your faithfulness....with the only expection as a blessing that you be with someone who holds the same measure of faith in what they feel for you.
Love never changes you as person, but acts as a reflection to who you are.....as a result, Love will keep you inside what you share even when all the doors are open for you to walk out....
Love is God and Faith is in works...
Say "I love you" as a reminder but Live it as a lifestyle.....words alone will never be enough because......
Love succumbed to a mere defition of words, is Love exercised in vain.
by Nduduzo Mbele
written 14/03/2017
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
A trained poet, knows that falling in
love in their life, devalues poetry itself,
no-longer motivated to read in their
own search for love. Sonnets for beauty,
lines to express emotions, nothing can
replace the touches and glances, from
a smiling lover.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 5:48 PM UTC
My only empathy I have towards truth,
it cannot be meet without some sort
of resentment. It lights a quiet earth,
sparks conversations after thoughts.
To what I can smile at, an effort to improve.
Plato, lonely is it ever truth is. Conflicting
views, based on emotion, that devalues
parts of life. Plato, perhaps it’s not the
contents of truth, just a matter of
respect.
(knowledge variable)
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC