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"didactic" poems
Once again a still sunrise, Quite too much to my surprise; Now no longer the same reprise, Never believing in fate's demise. Once again awaits the sun, Otherworldly; waits for none; Terrestrial battles with wars unsung, The time is now, and has begun. Once waves of calamity striking the coast, Now sinking caravels with swift riposte; This paves the insanity to roads of most, No graves on marvels without a host. My ambiguous ocean, bounds not to the throes, An effluent river asks not where it goes; But through frigid winters it finally froze, Yet two rigid reasons -- it once again flows. Your guess is as mine, for nobody knows, This mess is divine, and to us it bestows; Thrown into disaster, yet much room for prose, We are the ship-masters -- and everyone rows. So set my oars down, and go for the sails, Open your eyes, ears & mind; there is no trail; Wandering didactic wisp you will find, futility of 'fail', Galactic inhale, cosmic exhale, maybe then will the true path unveil. So leave nasty mates; abandon the ship, No mutiny required, just let the wreck tip, As though through spread fingers they suddenly slip, Though red feelings linger, you find your own grip. Then leave folly habits -- straight at the shore, Shut it & lock it, and close the **** door; There always are options -- endless possibilities to explore, Just activate your wings, open wide--soar. Glad once again, for another sunset, What you pursue is what you will get; So forget calumet, anisette & cigarettes, Simply don't fret -- paint vignettes with no regrets.
0
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
Sceni(deli)c Horizons
Once again a still sunrise, Quite too much to my surprise; Now no longer the same reprise, Never believing in fate's demise. Once again awaits the sun, Otherworldly; waits for none; Terrestrial battles with wars unsung, The time is now, and has begun. Once waves of calamity striking the coast, Now sinking caravels with swift riposte; This paves the insanity to roads of most, No graves on marvels without a host. My ambiguous ocean, bounds not to the throes, An effluent river asks not where it goes; But through frigid winters it finally froze, Yet two rigid reasons -- it once again flows. Your guess is as mine, for nobody knows, This mess is divine, and to us it bestows; Thrown into disaster, yet much room for prose, We are the ship-masters -- and everyone rows. So set my oars down, and go for the sails, Open your eyes, ears & mind; there is no trail; Wandering didactic wisp you will find, futility of 'fail', Galactic inhale, cosmic exhale, maybe then will the true path unveil. So leave nasty mates; abandon the ship, No mutiny required, just let the wreck tip, As though through spread fingers they suddenly slip, Though red feelings linger, you find your own grip. Then leave folly habits -- straight at the shore, Shut it & lock it, and close the **** door; There always are options -- endless possibilities to explore, Just activate your wings, open wide--soar. Glad once again, for another sunset, What you pursue is what you will get; So forget calumet, anisette & cigarettes, Simply don't fret -- paint vignettes with no regrets.
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36
60 sunshines, 59 nightfalls till I face the day 40 topics held in to regurgitate, **** and span for the marker man to give a brother a break. Wait, I ain't done Got anxiety about two more chores in head Not to ***** and moan but ******* Getting tired of this **** What's the point to push if you don't know where to go Blindful blissful ignorance? They say, and you go. What subject? What ever is most respected. What job? What ever brings financial comfort. What about this? Nah, you ain't good at that. And so you sulk ever so distracted Hearing the drip drop taps, splat on to the sink. The metallic ting of the radiator reverberates as dormant inner silence sings. Forever more. A didactic sore for the ears, Apologies in advance, Though regardless you must hear it. Never run to please others Rather, focus and listen to the deep.
0
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
Listen to the deep...to get out of the sh**!
Boredom #2 I’ve never seen so many synonyms for one small noun, Blocking maturation and enjoy-dom: Boredom. “Weariness, ennui: frustration; Restlessness, dissatisfaction, unconcern: frustration; Lethargy, lassitude, flatness and frustration; Dreariness, repetitiveness, apathy: frustration; Tedium, monotony, dullness. yes, frustration.” Can it be overcome, this boredom? No more war - the boredom won, Exchanged for something more like fun? It can. A friend who, when we speak, says, “It’s a part of nature…has no answer...” Reasoning fallacious, She is wrong as wrong can be And her reasoning a fallacy. Awake at night: hormones, full moons; The glut of light: electric gadgets and devices, Radios that play a song too strong, too long.. A trick I’ve learned that’s brought results; A knack, a shortcut worth consulting Is to train the brain to focus on/in/with the brain; Travel round in, sense and feel… Make it real – as if you really feel The part you aim at, frame then tame. In seconds you’ve an object that’s becomes a subject. Boredom fled, you freed, You and your mood well pleased, released And taken places least expected, Un-objected to by you, The burden boredom’s through. And doomed! Boredom 11.24.2016/ #2 revised 2..16.2017 Revelations Big & Small; Definitely Didactic; Arlene Corwin
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Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
Boredom #2
Let’s revolutionize the ethereal butchered up remaining bits of intergalactic attack. Gazelles! Zebras! Both victims to the same tyrant. Incessant and volatile death, those who never were didactic masters for themselves turn to speak; no words remain.
0
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 1:57 PM UTC
Don't Pass me by
That snapchat filter will always linger And never fade... Those cute ears will remain The same in that frame A static image of humor and fun Not didactic in any way Except to say I am here and forever young...
0
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 4:22 AM UTC
Snapchat Filter
**Meek Astute Noble Didactic Exemplary Learned Angelic** For You Mandela
0
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
MANDELA
We are the change we are searching for. It's no surprise we're having a hard time finding it, like a trick question the answer's inside. Some, like me have high expectations we're trying to erase because they limit the places our minds can go. And we know it's not to race to conclusions or exclude any info but like a kid on Christmas our impatience can sometimes take hold. But it's ok, we're humon. We are youth in revolt of the old ways that are clearly keeping us chained to the ground like slaves to didactic socio-political religious segregation. And like me, sometimes we forget that change brings growing pains. Do you know how much force it takes for a flower to sprout through pavement? We are growing everyday, that's scary to some, leaving many parents to wonder why their children aren't driving on the roads they paid to pave and ride on. It's because WE have our heads higher, in the sky and beyond. Roads are antiquated when you can fly--dropping the gas pump for light trying for a brighter future with nature as a guide. Don't get me wrong, it's a long flight and there's going to be lonely low dark parts in the timeline but I find some comfort in knowing I'm going with my own flow on my own ride and no one elses cause then I'm not myself which is where all our pride should lie. Not on material & wealth, but health, body and mind.
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Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
A Message For All Those on The Path/For The Ones Answering the Call
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise Of the tit-less toys The dick-less boys Enraptured in the music The anthem Of invidious phantoms My eyes hurt inside and I want to pull them out and Scrape out the gunk and rust that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance so I can cry for the first time in years… Wrapping my hands around his slender torso Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges To bite what emerges And my mouth purges The obelisk from underneath The iron-pierced jester The voracious molester My hand tightens as I grip his throat tighter and I want to squeeze until his eyes pop from his sockets and laugh until I puke against the walls, watching the ****** fluids mix like an execrable marinara sauce… I turned thirty while still being sixteen The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams But none of mine, none that I can recall Many years have passed since I took the oral fall Where no one saw Intransigent need to live For the snake in my veins hungered for more So many had their way until I was limp and sore. Defamatory fingers of mire and strife Probing and stretching My insides And devilishly comforting With limpid ambrosia That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing And fruit Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions That fracture, crack, morph, distort Emphasize, marginalize Rationalize, desensitize Acts of *********** evasion, moral drainage; Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings; Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes, Love, lust, infatuation Adoration Boys, girls, women, men, Angels, demons, monsters, humans Creators, gods, titans, divas All extended and limited from the minds that worship Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify While humans eat more, love more, **** more Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans We ponder and cherish Nevermore, for me Ever lore, for all Crows surround And chaos found.
0
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
Anatomical Pieces, Didactic love
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise Of the tit-less toys The dick-less boys Enraptured in the music The anthem Of invidious phantoms My eyes hurt inside and I want to pull them out and Scrape out the gunk and rust that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance so I can cry for the first time in years… Wrapping my hands around his slender torso Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges To bite what emerges And my mouth purges The obelisk from underneath The iron-pierced jester The voracious molester My hand tightens as I grip his throat tighter and I want to squeeze until his eyes pop from his sockets and laugh until I puke against the walls, watching the ****** fluids mix like an execrable marinara sauce… I turned thirty while still being sixteen The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams But none of mine, none that I can recall Many years have passed since I took the oral fall Where no one saw Intransigent need to live For the snake in my veins hungered for more So many had their way until I was limp and sore. Defamatory fingers of mire and strife Probing and stretching My insides And devilishly comforting With limpid ambrosia That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing And fruit Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions That fracture, crack, morph, distort Emphasize, marginalize Rationalize, desensitize Acts of *********** evasion, moral drainage; Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings; Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes, Love, lust, infatuation Adoration Boys, girls, women, men, Angels, demons, monsters, humans Creators, gods, titans, divas All extended and limited from the minds that worship Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify While humans eat more, love more, **** more Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans We ponder and cherish Nevermore, for me Ever lore, for all Crows surround And chaos found.
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67
The sound of your voice, linguistic forte digital portrait combined, reads lyrical, like Joyce, the use of imagery - elevating the plebeian, resplendent -   the imposition sublime. Pellucid prose, tête-à-tête immersed in esoteric allusion spoken with au fait. Liberating my pedestrian inhibition, premise of surrender - adrift, desultory, delicious ambiguity. Seduction begins in the mind, assets of imagination, intellectual property; side by side: lying supine didactic invitation, in assertions of diversion; a chance to find euphoria within our reach. Linear alliteration; fulgent flowing Fumé Blanc, fire and wine private beach, rhymes of elucidation two bodies align, I will learn if you teach. Sensual epistemology, curvaceous figure of speech, the Orphic; woeful lover’s plight, a porous song recite art professor, verse confessor tutor me tonight. ©2010 & 2011 W.S Warner
0
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
Elucidation
Verbiage Sagacious humans would concur Salacious verbiage is trenchant Verdant language withers a guileless soul Hubristic linguists deem limpid oratory irksome A Didactic, petulant, boorish, garrulous, nefarious, obtuse, and insolent Overtone is not my intent Puckish, risible, mannered, jocular, antic, and adroit Reverberations I am manifesting TRANSLATION Words Smart people would agree Healthy words are sharp Unripe words die naive spirits Self-confident word users find simple language annoying Moral instruction, rude, insensitivity, wordy, wicked, blunt, and contemptuous Feelings are not my purpose Impish (silly), laughable, artificial, playful, clownish, and clever Reactions I'm hoping to create
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Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:15 PM UTC
Verbiage/Word
To understand it, you have to meditate on it. Block out the chaos and white noise. Some messages lie clear, while others are deep as the sea. Without proper caution, one might drown than swim with pleasure. The words that are etched on paper are constructed to make one think, compelling the mind to become active. Once you’re into it—it becomes more than didactic. As one focuses the mind—much is revealed! What is revealed is like grapes yielding wine and olives yielding oil. But until then the mystery remains sealed.
0
Dec 6, 2022
Dec 6, 2022 at 3:02 PM UTC
The Book
Slippery insanity careens through marble forests,   trained insurgents capture dragon flies grinding them up for pixie dust, cowards siphon rain drops from entangled subatomic particles inscribing hopeless anecdotes for economical tyranny, bloated bumble bees bomb pearl harbor, golden harps sprout wings chasing lost lovers nourishing their insipid dreams, homophobes parade **** inside sinking ships, graveyards sneeze showers of formaldehyde, nature's chemical cathedrals synthesize the eleven dimensions of space and time, summer's daughter bathes in autumn's waters a myriad of memories engraved in the brain's tissues trace the tapestry of neural plasticity Prometheus's pollution and the alchemist's sunset
0
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
Didactic Pychosis
To be at the highest pinnacle, mount on the pyramids of desolation, seek for sunlight until it burns you, reach for clouds, until the storm comes. To be the royalty of your universe, embrace death like a ghostly friend, provide a funeral for your own end, put six feet under, the afterlife of your qualms. To break away from dishonor, cage the angels within your borderlands, free the demon inside your core, let them out, let them die.
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
A Bowl of Hyperboles (didactic poem)
An adamant introvert of inert thoughts Dowdy and crapulous Arrives in a fastidious yet effulgent Didactic, contumacious world of education Bilious in the beginning Still taught an adroit sense of survival Nefarious acts and risible happenings There was a lesson in all Zealous sclerotic soul Learnt well, thought well Contributed to goodness Willfully abetted evil The transcendence, Luminous, loquacious Cerulean peace within, built in blocks Of love, respect and fear A better heart, a better person A better LIFE.
0
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:56 AM UTC
I'm out.
It's in the sequence within the space on the slow turn at the touch of the page it's more than the optic less than didactic much more tactile, less than merely mercantile it's more immersive, deeply collaborative a match that's unconventional beyond art, words and materials avoiding any deference, embracing our difference flicking 2 fingers without fear of irreverence it's greater than the sum of its many surprising parts more than what was found in the inspirational, original art and whether it's deliberate or accidently incidental these are books as art, beyond the coffee table
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 12:24 PM UTC
Turning the page
*did you buy all of this on credit and can you do without going to ceremonies for awhile look what higher learning and empty rituals have given you a distrust for humanity and all that's truly valuable are you a nihilist or a solipsist what a life to be so twisted like an elliptical esophagus so strange the way we spell things what would we do without spellcheck or a dictionary these days is a thesaurus a dinosaur or a literary device the swelling went down right in time for your dialectical revival while didactic strange attractors are strangely repellent selective attackers leave your marriages despondent disparaged orthodontists leave fluids on your face still you wipe your chin with sandpaper and leave greasy finger stains in their place fluoride is a bargain complete with its own argument and quite often batteries are not included but that doesn’t mean you’ll never use them for what's a *** toy to do if its lacking its adjacent latex compartments or if you're really just not in the mood i guess this human body will have to do grooving to the music is all about our choosing to becoming outdated or faded like a tax evader these equations are meaningless when you are fermented with libations if you drink more amber liquid would you be negated relevant for a moment and then just as quickly discarded as a piece of paper the receipts we diligently saved are just as well used to light your fireplaces*
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Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
fermented solipsists
From Popularity… (comes danger) From popularity comes hazard, Risk of peril, Boy or girl at danger’s call. From anonymity comes shelter: No one knowing you at all. Every country loves its tourists - Bridges, tunnels… easy access; Weapons, drugs, Lawbreakers, thugs: In short, new foes; New secret foes that no one knows. From popularity come woes. Self-imposed expansion low. Moderation is the answer, Modesty the balancer Of friendliness And isolation. From Popularity 4.17.2017 Our Times, Our Culture II; Definitely Didactic; Arlene Corwin
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
From Popularity...
Should’ve listened to those didactic tales, those voluptuous sores, like vines in the heart, those tantrums and those fits of ‘can’t get enough’, should’ve played a lil nicer, should’ve loved a lil harder, this truth was never pragmatic, baby, never concentrated, fixated, never stifled, appreciated, never what you wanted to feel, but, babe, it was always real in your eyes and mine, ‘guess you never thought this time I would actually walk away, diluted, squeezed out, filtered to a drip, your hackneyed fibs burn me more, dissected into tears, you planted all of these fears in my conditioning with your temperamental code, hypocrite –hypocrite –hypocrite, corruption in this affair, still ain’t playing fair, but why am I surprised? tripped into a hole of utter depravity, shaking in those wet boots of bull-fucking-shit, I’m so ****** off with this I could spit! Or, I could quit you entirely – comradery broken, revoking that affection in me that has been stuck on you,
0
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 10:53 PM UTC
Insidious Love
I look in the mirror, the subject framed-- A monster-- scarred with decades of conflicts, But others see a youth perpetually tamed. The battle fought was all within, only to me explicit. Strifes with friends all in my mind Overthought words clog reason. Reserved, but virtuous, Always expecting the golden rule to apply, though none are kind. The problem's within me I am too nice, the other's aren't contemptuous. I must work to elevate my mind, resent less. Not my neighbors-- my thought; the catalyst of my growth. An arduous journey, efforts must remain relentless, But less rest makes me regress, the ebb and flow, The didactic struggle of history, in a microcosm so small. The flight of the mind anchored by the burden of guilt Each new break through shows a hole in the wall of yesterday's beliefs towards good, now a window to a grander one built. Does every soul struggle with this Hell? The will to do good not nurtured by nature. I hope for the best, will good will come? Will time tell? First my soul must work to mature-- No hatred, love only, for all, no exclusions For He would do the same, forgive forever. Each hurtful word said is a soul's laceration. The ire over, but there's scar tissue--Past's physical identification.
0
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
Gorian Dray
the blood on this dental floss is muito rico! i must write all about it; that’ll show em. {espero!} but what will she think of it? i think i'd like to be stuck to her, like a plantain peel on a naked shore. two giggling morons under a chocolate moon. {suspiro...} yet i’m stuck in didactic verse. in a winterland. knitting sonnets about oral hygiene and shaky hands. back in bed now, the words start to come together: “Scatter my ashes in Dublin, Ohio   or the Bronx Zoo!" I’m all over the place this morning.
0
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
draggers
Dearest Abstract, tell me- what color you drip when you laugh? how many languages do you tempest? when you cry, who spills deeper you, or the rain? You abridge me into a litany of mysterious elations. I asphyxiate inside your rapid joy and you drive me past my fondest entropy. I fawn at your luscious humor. Dearest Abstract, take me- outside the realm of plastic men into the hive of the eloquent- will o’ the wisp denizens who flaunts shafts of pickled delight like isolated pilgrim adventure. Dearest Abstract Allow me to dive into the furrows of your didactic faith and there consume me raw.
0
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
Dearest Abstract,
As if I mocked him or Love, so wounded he dreams me on swift legs a doe-woman with bow and arrow the graceful counterpart of the centaurs equally shy, but more slender equally modest but not didactic equally wise, but a woman equally free, but subject to his desire to possess my desires, and to let me do as he pleases: to stay sharp in view as I run, to look with longing at him, and panting, entangled in his hands, to keep looking until he is satisfied
0
Feb 22, 2023
Feb 22, 2023 at 3:03 AM UTC
Doe
Held hostage by the didactic rituals of Diacritic mindsets, It is a scourge to separate man From his brothers. The semblance of articulate postulations Have been conceived in the wombs of liars. This quo of assumed status, This contemptuous agility With regard to bias. We toil under the same sky, And drink from the same river, And the caress of the wind Falls upon all faces. The earth has been bestowed upon those that walk it. Upon those who have been returned to it. To those who cleave its riches and separate its chaff. The misbegotten, forlorn and forgotten Lay in un-named graves They seek the light of their identities In cries of historic laments And yet the world in gasping sighs Sits as if they are deaf. Low the time has come that men should stop and listen And release this burdensome chain Of self hate and loathsome disdain. O, how hard the answer to such a common question, It’s in the mind of man to continue to be simple, But far worse in the reality of this Is how difficult it has become Filled with dark decay O so Bitter some.
0
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 7:31 PM UTC
From the wombs of liars
Zombifying minds of many, dooming them to a life rooted in the ground. The didactic lay forgotten, decaying in a graveyard of tattered pages, old typewriters, and eight-track tapes. Monotonous drama deludes these robots into surviving in a reality teeming with **** and drugs, ****** and lies. Optimism overshadowed, out-shined forever by filth. But even I still succumb to this regime, an addict to his fixation. Plug in, power on, and wait to retrieve the signal, for my brain to be white noise while potatoes grow on couches.
0
Aug 27, 2010
Aug 27, 2010 at 9:55 AM UTC
Signal