"disecting" poems
Rain drops trickle down the siding,
Each one an orphan,
Rushing to find it's way home.
The sound of it all,
Streams,
disecting their way through the grass.
Determined.
Puddles,
fill the cracks in the old, broken down drive way.
Healing.
And the beauty of it all gives me a little hope,
Maybe we are all just rain drops or puddles,
Looking to fall peacefully into something broken,
something we can heal,
something we can make new again,
something.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
In a scribble
grammar-sphere
Covid-spastic-wormholes
from a new world intelligence.
Come on dudes this is a personal invite
who-ever own the guru-rules out there
come clear make contact
let's boogie on Bach
eat together with Spock,
vegans are welcome too
no disecting
no probes
no props
only sunlight strobes
just the few of us
a humpback tv
Danny Glover, Aeon flux
and Spielberg,
indulged in mars bars and smoked-yeast,
if the kitchen heats up I'll offer you
oil Sheik in galaxian crude dip with
elongated Musk on fire and ice.
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 2:15 PM UTC
I miss being friends
Were we ever friends?
I miss being in love
Did I ever love?
I miss the fighting
I miss the passion
I miss the heat
The pain
The healing
The art
The late nights
The wondering
The writing
But,
Was any of it ever really there?
-Disecting
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
i stroke the water
with amphibian grace....
plastic protuberent eyes
bob up above....
then down below
.....disecting view
sky blue../...to aqualine
aquamarine.. black line
water sluicing off...
latex bundled, bumpled head
in streaming rivulets...
legs creating rhythmic geometrics....
arms parting waters to glide.........
my frogskinned self.....
is irregularly pattern
....dead fish white,
and sunkissed brown,
......on appendages
bright cerulean, slashed
with swirled butter yellow.
.....wrapped across the
overotound body...
glide onward frog girl...
....through...
the crisp chlorine clean pond...
thoughtless.... except for stroke
and lapnumber.
we.... the army of lapsswimmer
frogs.... are a silent breed
our territorial sound/call is the
regulated plash of arm or leg
.....against surface water
as we swim....always....
in straight lines.....
......that etch away miles....
and
...our overindulgent..
land based......
...vices
we are the water monks .....
of penance and self improvement
....grimly discharging our vespered canon of strokes....
before fluidly lifting our... watersilked
bodies back onto the reality
of land ......leaving
our amphibian grace
........adrift
....in the wake of daily need
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
bright eyed, indian style
we sat and smiled, while
the world conquered our brains
my peers and I,
we grew up under the same light
learned about life
from one hand guiding us through time
the other, hard-wiring our mind
our secrets splashed, staining the walls
our footprints danced down the halls
and my friends found their rolls
but i never found mine
too busy self disecting
in hopes that I'd feel whole
but my brain believed
that love between a man and woman was the only acceptable kind
i grew 15 years believing in my brain that this was true
until my heart insisted on a different view
feeling broken down to my core
i realized, brain or heart I had to choose
i had to end this civil war
not realizing my mind is what I'd loose
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Howsoever it may look,
it may sound,
But no other way till date,
I have found.
For tasting the heaven,
the God's domain,
Give up the counting ,
what loss or Gain.
For God is not loss and
benifit you count,
Nor he can be bought
what be the amount.
You hear the sound ,
the whistle of train,
But never you find,
the whistle of train.
If candle will try,
for catching the heat ,
And music will try for,
catching drum beat.
Can cloud get success,
in catching the rain?
And can a bird find,
sky the empty terrain.?
Like fish never fathom,
what water what sea,
And fruit seldom find,
the bud and the tree.
For a Fish is in water,
and a bird in sky,
Sea cannot be found ,
whatever fish try.
As breathing not separate
from body from life,
And family just dependent
on part of a wife.
God' business is different,
and different his way,
He is closest of the closest,
and still far away.
A man is not separate,
nor different from God,
No question disecting ,
the source with a sword.
The Proof of heaven is ,
within you my friend,
Just venture your search,
in your heart's terrain.
Ajay Amitabh Suman
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 7:53 AM UTC
You took my heart and left
I trusted you
and
spilt my guts
yes I spoke my mind
spelt out
every heartfelt moment of love
for you
now you come back
After disecting my heart
trying to convince me
how much you love me
I'm sorry
my heart changed it's mind
and
my head tells me
that
you're just playing
mind games
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
There are many dimensions of my complex personality
Some deem it a flaw, I think it makes me unique
Therefore it's not just one certain thing
That keeps men I've crossed paths with
Coming back to me
It's my intricate mind
That have men spending their valuable time
Disecting and learning
And constantly yearning
Exactly who I be
It's the joy in my voice
That leaves men no absolute choice
To continue to dial my number
Leaving them to wonder
Exactly who I am
It's the genuine feeling that they receive
Every single time that they lock eyes with me
It's the hint of my sensuality
My mysterious smile
That reveals that this good girl can definitely be wild
Yes, they all want to know who is she?
Since I am so complex
And at times more of a challenge then the next
It seems that men are more drawn to me
They want to have an exciting journey
They want to see
If they can indeed compete
They want to know exactly
What it is about little ol' me
That keeps them intrigued
Any time that we meet
But most men are so shallow
So for them I'm just too deep
So they wound up drowning
And I in return save them
Once they get their breathing back on track
And know for a fact
They're still alive
They strive to get to me
Because they still want to see
Exactly what is was about me
That had them so intrigued
So they all eventually
Drift back to me
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
the templars can sing all they want... we're dealing with really sick people with the insurrection of the nag hammadi library!
kaptur...
of a monk's hood...
kapć -
slipper -
noun-verb translation,
for some reason,
other than what the orthodox
people state it being...
but how would you
ascribe the trill to R using the existing
diacritical marks?
and example...
a monk's hood:
kaptur v. káptür:
both instances exist and are equally
justifiable - let's suppose there is
a need to add a diacritical mark on
one of the consonants,
k? no... due to c and q...
p? papa pa... no...
t? † or st. andrew's X?
no... r... R though... i can revise the vowels
to embody syllables... acute a to cut up
the word: ka- like a bad crow onomatopoeia...
-ptoor hence the umlaut doubling up
on the U parabola...
:: :: :: ::
but i want the trill R! i want the sign denoting
that it should be "rolled"... rattled...
the rattle snake symbol...
no, not the french vogue of
levitating it toward the hark... the phlegm consonant...
i don't want that... ȑ? i.e. " above the r?
it's a real word though...
the word: kap-tur.
a monk's hood...
and depending on how you engage
disecting a word according to the rule of syllables...
there's a higher power that also dissects words:
diacritical markings, that was invested in
by guidance of the thought: it will make it easier...
evidently it made it harder...
funny me, in the 21st century pointing
this out.
e.g. : + u = o
dot dot... join up the dots for a circle
and then say: : + u = oo.
ooh! steven fry playing
austin powers! yeah baby! yeah!
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
Shuffling through my emotions I relive all of my days. I look at the triumphs and failures and think about different things. I pull at the layers of my inner self to find out who I am inside. I look for some reason for knowing love, fearing what it is that I might find. With know sense left in my spirit, I dare not chance this to fate. If I make one mistake, it could end the gift I have been given. So I carefully dissect my heart to know that my love is sure. Because I cannot never find this gift again, because I have found perfection in you.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 6:16 PM UTC
Stripping the spines of angels
Disecting the void in our hearts
As we pull their wings apart
And to what end can we justify
Murdering the innocents of the world
Committing suicide with our youth
So they never find the truth
That we never really knew
What we were praying for
While we were playing
The part of god
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
You are a crowded intersection
Ebullient bloating, churn
Bustling with acquaintances
They know your name
Know your way, but see you mearly as an impass
Navigated with neither choice nor decision
Route without resistance
Path of least conviction
A jumping of point
Endeavors formulated; yet your corridors are never considered
No exceptional exemptions
Chimerical observers, are shuffled and thumb Fulminant prostration; muddling insertion
Maudlin automaton corral
An adverse opposition, preferring to evaluate you at night
Your gaslit candescence reaches in all directions
Ebbing lambency traversing space
Conveyance of curious possibility
Enveloped in your vacancy
Swaddling spances; rampart wrapping
Quarantined and completely mine
Somber meditation tranquility
All of my substance settling to a manhole center
Shedding all my persistent memories
Unencumbered relife; unfettered elation
Ravishing beatitude exaltation
Distracting detraction
Time abstractedly trickling away
Disecting rays of light clutching the arc of the Plutonian horizon
Stampeding hordes in infinite single file lines
Sieging you from every direction
Like a colony of ants disintegrating a discarded carcass
You are gone
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 9:55 PM UTC