"deviates" poems
We are not the voice to elect a king
We are anonymous
I am not the one you want to convene because I question everything
I am just a voice of honesty as degenerates overtake my home
Life in the wake of calamity cast on a pile of bones
It’s the new order of the ages, welcome to the end of days
The beast controls our lives impeding our ability to thrive
induced into a system designed for wealth, power, and lies
A price is paid for not conceding to an affirmation worth repeating
as I join the enlightened ones and wage a massive war
A circularity that deviates from its path is not a circle anymore
They will invoke internal and external threats
then establish many secret prisons
Slowly restricting the freedom of the
Press while surveying ordinary citizens
Chem-trails from government jets
will be dismissed as urban legends
Mandatory vaccinations
designed to lower urban intelligence
Radio-frequency identification chips
mandatory for men, women, and children
Man-made global pandemics
separated for segregated sterilization
Espionage becomes the new word for criticism
And dissent will be the new word for treason
In the name of self-preservation
they will subvert the rule of law
We are broken beyond repair, slaves for all we have
As they divide our families, we ignore another false flag
As history repeats, we are kept under control
But we are not the voices to elect a king
because we are anonymous
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
An empath
Just a ProSonderer
Nothing more
But quick to learn
every human’s soul
will be instinctively felt
just as the breeze flows
through that open window
A soul
it’s wandering to your heart’s beat
on rare occasion it deviates from the tune
nothing more
—Because you don’t acknowledge
its existence yet;
Could you truly expect to progress
in finding your soul’s mate
when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?—
A pair of souls is always made from a single star
so when you find another
that renders your talkative self speechless
or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter
Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder
that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache
when you're longing not only at midnight
but in public midday for that other
if its a flame
that just won't fade
no matter how long you stay
tell yourself to not push this one away
you're not in danger anymore
let that person breach your barricades
allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways
you'll soon stop automatically
encouraging them to go
the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door
chances are you'll find
nothing's worth more
then an empath finding their
lone star soul in their own time
And as a sondering empath
I understand having that
(impenetrably
-fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch-
translucent but sporadically opaque)
guard with others
Seems like a darkly humored folklore
a normal person’s usual day
is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion
but when you meet that one
you won't just understand their soul
you'll have a brand new reading
and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing
just remember there's a first time for everything
when that someone intuitively understands you.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 7:14 AM UTC
Numb is the one and the only unexplainable feeling
Unstoppable growth through the low, lonely ceiling
You need to Age-less and decide what it is you want
You need to confess your clear addiction to the hunt
it's 4th and very long and yet you still refuse to punt
Forever distracted by the smell of another new ****
Well, I want to experience life, and try almost everything
But If you had to choose one, what would Santa bring
It's a problem that's not solved, but hindered, by a ring
It's a familiar carol, stuck in your head, everyone can sing
Winters becomes spring, to summer, then falls to a fling
Even the exceptions suffer an old familiar sharp sting
SO live life to the fullest they will all mutter with cliche
SO give to the richest while all the poor kneels to pray
Get in line little Sheople because it's now time to obey
Let us pine for the notion that God has instant replay
Because a karma less existence creates utter dismay
Truth with real consequence deviates a ghostly stay
Wondering Souls wandering until the end of the day
Finally found the right words...but nothing left to say
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 3:56 AM UTC
It's a travesty to tolerate
The ugly mores of men,
When everyone's allowance
Condones release for them.
Where everywhere provision
Is made for man to shove,
And woe betide the meek
Who don the feathers of a dove
The world applauds the forceful,
Rewards are rich for he
Who tramples over daisies
And holds aloft the key.
Who forces his attentions
And speculates the win,
Despite the devastation wrought
In winning it for him.
It's a travesty to tolerate
This bovine charge of man
When all can be achieved
With an accommodating plan,
When compromise and levity
See consideration's way
Where success can be attained
With out bloodletting on the day.
I hear the snort of your derision,
Feel the snigger in your smile,
See the curl of lip descending
With your slit eyes of defile.
For this portraiture is global
The fighting man is King
And he who deviates
Is left bereft and vanquishing.
Sadness is the matador
Who casts his scarlet cloth,
To be shredded and impaled
By a maddened bullock's wrath.
To be tossed aside, asunder
Like a lifeless ragged doll,
Like mankind's brute tomorrow
When the final drums do roll.
Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
29 November 2009
Nov 28, 2009
Nov 28, 2009 at 7:17 PM UTC
She...she responds to a soothing bath.
He...he prefers a different path.
They each disrobe from the day's affairs,
the formal restraints they each do share.
Their clothes lay scattered about the floor,
both stand naked at a tiled shore.
She eases herself into this sleeve,
a temperate knitted liquid weave.
He guides the stream from it’s perched spout,
the water finding the perfect route.
His face is wet, his eyes are shut tight.
She prefers ambient candle-light.
She gently sponges her supple skin.
He grips the soap...oh, so masculine.
She contemplates his rugged terrain,
he puts his hands out to feel the rain.
His caress yields a lathery foam,
her fingers begin a downward roam.
He too diverges, or so rather,
deviates from the task to lather.
Much attention in just one region,
cleaning can’t motivate this legion.
His thoughts of her, and her thoughts of him,
nothing stops what’s about to begin.
Tremors start from her head to her toes,
a smile blossoms as she plateaus.
He feels the pressure stiffly increase,
it brings to him an immense release.
She savours the last rippling quiver.
His knees weak from such an endeavour.
They catch their breath, and resume their chores,
have they been remiss in these detours?
Excuse the news they misuse shampoos,
they choose to amuse with such taboos.
One can’t ignore in the aftermath: he takes showers
... and she takes a bath.
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 10:34 AM UTC
Feverish calamity besets the lovers
Devilish in the spite of the enemy
Where intensity of love exists, in a moment it might transcend to hate
Fiendish rivalry between love and hate
Results in love’s cherished heart dismayed
Whether in spite or love betrayed
Like a million arrows arrayed
Across the heart and
Beats stopped
For want of
Little
Less
Of hate
And now embalmed
In cowardice
Life deviates
Nothing like love betrayed
Feeling numb and used are enlightened feelings of hate
Be gone now, fever and all
I must hate now, and forever more!
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 6:31 AM UTC
The night arrives, wicked and sentimental
It gives birth to morning, unforgiving but gentle
And the moon gives women their claws
As mother earth opens her jaws
And swallows whole all the phalluses
The rich men and their palaces
And broken seashells look like fragments of planets
We may have no mystery, but we still have magnets
And the knowledge of the old gets passed on to some
As the rest of the planet comes undone
And the drunkards are eager to play their roles
As the martyrs wait to save their souls
The flame that survived the storm
Deviates from the norm
A pariah born
In unsymmetrical form
Only when it burns out
Will an apocalypse come
Calling all you monsters
Unite as one
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
When the terror shrouds itself with an agonizing peace, I walk towards the terror and order it to come out of that shroud and face me, look into my eyes and provide answer to my only question that, what deviates you towards the path of peace? and it would reply, “I seriously want to engulf myself into the point of termination for once at least”.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
It's hard to adjust,
I know.
The twists and turns
Collisions;
They're all abrupt
As everything is.
Nothing slows
Nobody dies
Just shifts
Deviates and changes
In fluctuations.
It's hard to adjust,
I know.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
To write
to write one's life
is to take a road that leads nowhere
and yet parallels the totality of one's existence
To write one's life
is to evoke a silhouette
that of the writer rushing through his past
One cannot tell where he is going
as he detours diverges deviates
but that is why we want to follow him
Along the way like a lost traveler
he picks up pebbles from the ground
and stuffs them in his pockets
As he gropes backward he loses himself
but we are willing to be disoriented with him
willing to be lulled by his vain repetitions
Stranded in time with him
we lose ourselves in space with him
and yet everything holds in place underneath
as if pulled by a magnet
All that was absent
forgotten from his life
is now suddenly present again
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
The pair is unfair
Mutually n’ gradually
No scope to compare
Poles fear far apart
As if ready to depart
Their love is seasonal
And strictly procedural
Ego often ruled high
Not to see eye to eye
One inherited rich
Other inhaled rich
One dictates
Other deviates
And vice-versa
The dual is in dichotomy
Both are parallel
In defending valuation
Not in preserving values
The duo in duel always
Their mechanical meet
Defies dynamics of love
Yet, the train of their life
Keeps on parallel track
On ethical grounds!
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
taking forever to open up and even
longer than that to close
it scares me how much she knows
here the truth comes here the truth goes
here i am sought for sad
doubly ***** prose
can you tell me again how much she knows
as she watches onward i float off ****** propriety
i am a ghost coming through the drift of society
does she wish
she could chain me here
does she wish she could change me here
i am a ghost stepping through
a different body
to myself i cannot be recognized.
through things i love i remember myself
i see trees i see a breeze i feel
and conclude that
i am a person of ease
then i see spurting
silver
smoke
and remember another part
of me and hope
to God it's not from another thing that I broke
she looks at me and I already feel what she knows
you are a breeze and fire as it blows
through a different body
and it steps on my toes
tough chalk take it easy with all those throws
tough chalk take it easy on the hose
why was she the one you chose
// // here she confesses to be a concept to expose
// // here i confess to already know
// // here she deviates from
internalized dialogue rendition
lending me renewal in my own special edition
here the deviation is turn that suffices
to scare all existential devices
kiss the existential murmur away
here she faces me to colors parts i used to call my favorite of the day
till she comments on the fact that i didn't notice they were gray
here she fills here she pours here i am floating on her insistence on coloring with elemental cores
here is a gas that makes me feel more lighter than higher
here she gifts me brighter day
better ray. does more than she will ever say
not to be pathetic but i'm definitely hoping that all this coloring could forever stay
though i love her enough to send her away
but beautiful fire don't put yourself out don't
put yourself out. don't show me what's brighter
then gift me a lighter
then put yourself out.
here i feel the reach here i feel
a gentle tug and it's
good for me, i can tell.
here I am laying in a light painted on for me
and I am so happy to be living off a dream
performing live in this city here I am performing
live in a town
old lady don't tell me to come down
here I am learning names of
a crowd
I'll die before I lay ties to it and I'll live before I lie
to it
this is when survival feels tempting
but I shouldn't let a dream take me off another
if it was my dream to never be a bother
if it was my dream to lay low and live wild
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 2:30 AM UTC
There's a circus in me
that your eyes cannot see.
Sometimes I wear a smile as
make up to cover those tear stains.
Sometimes the mind plays tricks
on me and I surrender to it as a slave.
Sometimes the heart breaks into pieces
and I make it look like another work of illusion.
Sometimes the soul deviates to seek an evil
and I let it play with those rings of fire.
Sometimes the body wears out and says no more
but here no matter what, the show goes on.
Sometimes I play the part of the joker and
sometimes I simply am the audience.
This happens everyday at the circus in me
that your eyes cannot see.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 12:03 AM UTC
The pair is unfair
Mutually n’ gradually
No scope to compare
Poles fear far apart
As if ready to depart
Their love is seasonal
And strictly procedural
Ego often ruled high
Not to see eye to eye
One inherited rich
Other inhaled rich
One dictates
Other deviates
And vice-versa
The dual is in dichotomy
Both are parallel
In defending valuation
Not in preserving values
The duo in duel always
Their mechanized meet
Defies dynamics of love
Yet, the train of their life
Keeps on parallel track
On ethical grounds!
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
What is lucky
is it
a passerby who fell down
and found a gold coin
is it
travellers who discovered
ancient secrets
when they took shelter in
a cave
is it the impartial
arrow of cupid
a soldier who was
saved in midst of
gunfire
is it
catching the last train
is it
a ragged beggar
who acquired a 5-dollar meal
is it
a ray of breeze that
deviates the bullet from
its trajectory
lucky is
the fullness of the spirit
the attendant of happiness
the inception of laughter
the heir to
the lucky stone.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
As the impact begins to settle,
As my life deviates,
Realizations set in.
A sense of clarity and desperation.
Past onslaughts of wars long believed to be won,
Begin to bridge.
I am triumphant over assaults,
But the true victor has yet to be crowned.
I must continue my weary, burdensome stride.
As long as I breathe I will challenge the assault.
As long as my heart beats I will resist the barrage.
I will not surrender to the hellion.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
Society defines beauty as perfection, but
I am here to submit a correction
This newly improved definition states:
Beauty is found in the thing that deviates
Deviates from the code that is implied, not written
The code that is followed, even by children
Real beauty is sometimes hidden
Look for the thing that's a little bit different
The thing that breaks society's norm
The one that takes the path unworn
Like the crazy color of your hair
Or the freckles you have everywhere
We each have something unique and wonderful
Which makes every one of us truly individual
Not one person is a copy of another
Yet in one word I could define us together:
beautiful
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
I have decided this day not to give a
crap about the machinations of others
whose notions concern me just as much
as I care
about falling down stairs or
running into walls
or hurting myself
on purpose, which itself deviates
dramatically
day by day.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 9:57 AM UTC
it's a story of girl meets boy,
who's reading milan kundera's
the unbearable lightness of being,
girl falls in love,
boy laments this falling in love
with a wish to be dead,
girl ***** the boy's high-school friend
and asks the friend to ****
the boy in a cunning and sophisticated way,
the ****** fails,
boy lives on,
picks up a girl in a park drinking beer,
seduces her for a **** when she forgets
miles davis' kind of blue,
and listening to michael greilsammer's
הוריי שלי (https://goo.gl/DZlekQ)
gives sway, they ****
celibacy of the boy
abolished, more fingers on
the hand than ***** for 8 years counting,
walking home in the cold
night the girl from the park
drowns in the boy's jacket, in terms
of fraction three fifths his size;
concerning title? i don't know where
to cut-in or cut-off from he (heh), shin (sheen),
or any other hebrew letter is,
for if in the case of vav (ו)
the breath is in ***** of the sound
where is the incision for a phonetic unit
of speech to begin or end, akin to greek alpha
and omega, so too with the hebrew examples
ש (shin, not s) and ל (lamed, el or la ahmed)?
i.e. you say omega, but only utter o,
you say alpha but only utter a,
beta but on b etc.
so when giving nouns to units of sounds,
expanding a into alpha aleph, d into delta daleth,
b into beta and beth... how then uncouple
the unit of sound from the noun and couple
it into a word that deviates from noun?
we can sit all day musing this...
the existential philosophers philosophising
with the syllables ego... and i with snoring snorkelling
(zzz)... if ever the serpent slept (sss sizing up
a psst) for man awake then the serpent endeavours
his chance to sleep, brought on by digestion.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
Death drew lines in sand,
Boarders on grass and divides
Sea and land. But know
The scorpion will strike, snake glides and bites
A predator; not of ill-belonging, but of fear.
Birds float across continents,
Dolphins flow and follow the tide.
Exhaust all energies or you can hide;
Forget illusion of deity and rebirth,
Of perfection and redemption.
Let live. Accept and move along,
Move along with your only feet for as long.
The absurd, the faults and the strengths,
Believe no charity nor fate or luck,
Swallow dignity and hate;
Or choke on beliefs soon to break.
What happens now is up to you.
Rise with scarlet sun and high-sky blue
For not even language is absolute; it deviates time.
Grasp words you know, tell me what’s mine.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
You mock and laugh at believers
, men rational and wise.
How foolish is believer's beliefs
you inform and apprise.
Each and every rites and
practices of beleivers you condemn.
Reject divine creation of
heavens n earth, things tween them.
But believe me Atheists also
have beliefs, faith and stance.
Your belief is everything came
into existence just by chance.
Earth started rotating and revolving
with precision on its own.
So that If it deviates a bit no
life will exists not a single one.
By accident were created all
plants and creatures in pairs.
Haply it was decided how they
will produce offsprings n heirs.
Hilarious, laughable are your
beliefs, O wise Non-believer!
Believe me your beliefs can put
to shame beliefs of a believer.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC
Remember our moments as children. A time when innocence veiled us from the tears of the outside.
Now but a fainting cloud.
Burrowing through the shadows of doubt.
And we lived such wonderful lives as children.
We shared our colors.. we smelled the flowers..
Running through sheening cornfields in the summerdusk.
All is gone.
And i could never forget you..
So let me take you for a walk..
I expect nothing of it..
Just hoping to go with you on a treasure hunt..
To dig through time...
Would that be fine?
In this mind of mine.. i paint these lives.. all the universes i made with you.
So let me talk you for a walk.
Between the cornstalks we can talk...
I will always remember those days.
But joy never stays..
You made me shiver and quiver...
Now i only dwell in the deepest caves..
And i cannot forget you.
My affection deviates into obsession..
Since that day you died...
I smeared your blood upon my face
I felt purified...
My heart used to beat...
now it only weeps...
My decayed fingers caress the rotten corn with whom I was buried.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
vvith help from a spit of liquor
gravitates ‘round the pyre, gulps
until highxr the flicker
inside her—oops!
must be supernxtural forces
twxsting these vowels into xxxx’s,
transversing her verses
into hexes—
slurrxng,
she hastens,
crossing her vvords
& mayhem unfolds from their nexus
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 10:48 PM UTC
Dismembered promises
You speak
And my resilience deviates
Deep reluctance festers
And arid attempts
Configure dreams of little worth
A slump characterizes me
I am a concave branch ready to split
A mere whiff of you suffices
To stifle my budding flowers.
The ones I tended to
Shielded from invasive sun
And guarded by gaping moon
With tenderness so deep
I could have rubbed combs through them
But yesterday’s flowers are blighted today
Harangued in spiteful midday light
And frayed with want they are
Want to be tended to
Want to be encircled by fertile mounds
Want to be wanted
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 5:15 AM UTC