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reveling in the unity of contradiction
the omnipresence of disjunction
the opaqueness of transparency
the anarchy of governance

the unknowableness of the zeitgeist
the banality of chiqueness
the slavery of fashion

kinda like being a hipster in Brooklyn
with no conscience of consciousness
or is it no consciousness of conscience?

one is a statement the other a dumb question
seeking an intelligent answer
truly the tragedy of comedy
or is it the comedy of tragedy?

enough of these silly questions....  
why don't it just fall apart?
how does it stay together?

accessorize smartly
tight ensem
put together
right

Music Selection:
Jimi Hendrix
ifasixwas9


Oakland
6/21/13
jbm
Victoria G Jul 2013
This thing
It sounds like an illness
But I don't feel sick
I held my head between my knees
Till I remembered how to breathe

I don't feel wrong
I just don't want
to burden anyone else.
I needed someone to hold me
Until I forgot what I was crying about

I didn't realize that I was now
"that kid"
And it didn't upset me the way I thought it would
I can't tell anyone
Nobody needs to know.


I'm okay.
*I will be
Victoria G Jul 2013
Before you can tell anybody
You have to tell yourself
What people say you should already know
Even though I didn't.

How could I tell anyone else
When just trying to tell myself
Ended with me unable to breathe
At 3 in the morning?

I didn't feel relief
I didn't have a revelation
In the end,
I mostly felt resignation.

Nothing is more lonely
Than realizing
That you don't know
Who you are.
Gowtham Ganni Mar 2018
Bronze glitters more
whereas Iron is natural and more useful

Bronze weakens with every blow irreverseably
whereas Iron strengthens with every repair

Bronze cannot be bent
whereas Iron can be used to make multiple products

Bronze dont mingle with others
tinge of carbon could enhance the power of Iron

Bronze melts at 1000°C
Iron could withstand and withhold for more

Bronze is denser
but Iron wins the strength game

Bronze does not rust
but Iron has the attractive magnetic power

Bronze is discovered earlier
but Iron dominates the world!
Keiko Larrieux Jan 2010
I’m on a great journey
Trapped on a glorious road
I feel like running
Embedded with a code

Chewing myself
Swallowing one person
Digesting someone else

Plausible reminders
Allow the time

I prepare for the jaunt
In discovery of what I want

Chewing myself
Swallowing one person
Digesting someone else

I’m wrapped in a cordial dysfunction
Seared with an initial
An acronym of disjunction

I’m on a great journey
Trapped on a glorious road
I feel like running
Embedded with a code
Poetic T Jun 2016
Staves and mineral deposits
may  disjunction my cartilage,
but inherent and  derivatives
can never impair my reasoning.
Sticks and stones can break my bones but your words can never harm me, new take on old rhyme...
Sethnicity Dec 2016
You missed me
As if your words were bullets
and your lovely intentions
invisible suspension
bridges,
I'm lit
and your words mean ****
Like Neo
no longer consider
myself a hero
because I absorb the hit
Your actions tha hatchet
everything you wanted
you came & snatched it
Steadily voices echo
You know
she ratchet
But I'm being Supreme
Scission from the dream
from Your, destruction
no physical eruption
just disjunction
Son of Atom
We split
I spit
on












U
Well, I didn't miss you.
Born from a Dream,
Dying on the seam,
Of your heart,
Taking me apart,
I can feel it feel it now,
The stretch and tear,
Of the stitched be reared,
My tender heart is chasing you,
But only in the dream,
Because dreams aren’t dreams if they are real,
And as real as you are,
I’m just an apparition,
A ghost of an actor,
In this stage we call young love,
Not quite absent, but not quite present either,
A street with an impeding dead end,
Not long now, not long you’ll see,
Born from a dream,
I’ll come crashing into you.
Down or up,
Day or dawn,
Life goes on,
But still tonight I fight,
For whatever feelings you possess,
If not for me then for life,
Happy enough and content to be,
A smile that kills on your face,
How nice you can be…
I’ve never met anyone so innocent and pure
Forgo the spice and stick to the sugar,
Cuz’ girl you are sweet,
Going on with that smile and that heart,
I know how hard you push,
And how long you work,
Your muscles tight,
With every step.
Still your gorgeous, an angel,
Among us mere men.
Gracing us ever so humbly,
With the present of your presence,
So, Born from a Dream,
I think I just want the real you,
I don’t want *** in the back of my truck,
I just want to talk, and hug, and hold, and care for,
Someone worthy.
This is the second act,
And in it we move from the problem,
To the pain,
And it’s clear that the end is quite lame,
Cliché in its very modest success,
And painful in its failure.
Throw that stone at me,
Cuz you know I’ll cry,
Heartache and love take,
Away everything I’ve ever needed,
Every breath I’ve ever breathed,
Full of regret and remorse,
What was once a symphony,
Is now a disjunction,
Harmony and Nature is broken,
And it’s all because of that dammed Mused,
Entitled since and hence, fate.
I laugh because otherwise I’ll cry,
If it was any other day,
And any other time,
Perhaps you could have just said yes,
That for now you’ll be mine.
I think more than anything,
I just want a chance,
But alas its not to be,
For it was my last dance,
A man’s ego and confidence is slim,
As powerful as it is,
Easily shattered and hard to repair,
It takes a skillful and dedicated tinker,
Of which you are neither.
Instead your just as clumsy as me,
Just as sorrowful and lonely as me.
Just as confused and scared as me.
Anything new, anything different,
That’s why in the back of that truck,
I just couldn’t get that kiss.
But you know maybe it’s for the best,
Maybe I’ll be happy without you,
And you without me,
Because if there is one thing I’ve learned,
It is simply this,
If you think its bad now, wait…
It only gets worse.

I believe I was meant for the job,
As our story rounds to a close,
Like Christ I think I was set up,
To take the sins and evil of all,
The burden is deep,
And the hill is steep,
The sun’s a setting,
And it’s the most ugly thing I have ever seen.
Still I won’t open my eyes,
Because even deaf I cannot see.
Its too painful every day,
To be so unhappy.
I don’t know how man ways I can say it,
Born from a Dream,
Maybe!
You are not real, just a vision a mirage, a fantasy
But you are as real as can be,
And babe, I’d give up heart, soul, body, and toll,
If  just for one day, one perfect day,
Where we’d just lie in bed, with the phone unplugged,
In each other’s arms sleepily,
Not moving, not talking,
Just listening to each other’s hearts beat.
And thinking all the while,
I’d give it all up,
If only I could,
Hear this drum tap one more time,
And it always does.
But you know…
As great as this is,
And as perfect as you are,
I am an imperfect being,
While you are Born from a Dream.
I don't think any poem has made me so emotional whilst writing it. Therefore if the quality suffered because of it, I am sorry, but this one's for me.
Onoma Feb 2016
Take heed, but do
not take hold...memory
is more than can be
remembered.
From personal, to
collective... by
disjunction it will be forgotten.
As if its shapelessness were a ripple,
touching on itself to be--
to remember...till it must
adhere to the loss of its round.
Truly, memory is more than
can be remembered,
minds are drawn out by lack
of distinction.
chimaera May 2014
IF
a condition for disjunction
an empty land on a delusional scape
a void in a vertigo vortex

eulogy on past future tense

search
for utopia

a time
a place
to be

unconditionnaly

deleting
deluting
dispeling
a scattered voice

to thrive
groping
along the blind  alley
leading
nowhere
CrackedMoonboy Apr 2021
I feel like you
Bjjijojdnnv mnjjfnd dmomv omsinmv invinfv isnsivnd
Ksnivdnvk did.  Ifvismovo dmvoa. Fsmvim momzc Jon
Chjvh dnnf djfjsbu) f fhinshhjf. Finins njdmvn
Dvivjsvjo fjvihsnc uhnvjfnnii firmer ejfijrbe hi. Dimf meom
Dciovjr ijvindoc disjunction cirsjrojer jcdoksvojeo
Kncm vknis cdkmvfom. Fidvk bm fjsok gneu igmfufik gjfijnfhd
Difkf jdi kbndh vjnbns uvjfbcu.

That’s what I thought you can’t understand me!
When I talk to some people they just don’t understand how I feel or try and
compare me to other teens.
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2019
why would a logical argument be worthy
of an adjective?

no real reason:

propositions are a set of premises,

which allow, set premises
to suit a proposition,

but prepositions are
are not a set of premises,
they are: "prerequisites"

well... take away the prefix
pre-
and then study "logic"
on the grounds of what
is left...

         -requisite...
ideal...

       -mise...

hmm, so how does the thesaurus
overcome
the mathematician?
pre-requisite is a tautological
complex: implying?

what is prior is also
a requisite...
hence a pre-prerequisite...

premise?
the same meaning
(or prerequisite)
but said "meaning"...
truth? contra good?

these days "the" good
is precisely "that",
i.e. a "good"...
it's neither good or,
or nor good:
worth as much as
a testimony to
interrogate, "evil"...

good isn't good is good,
evil isn't evil is evil,
truth:
a regurgitation of facts,
"made to feel"
claustrophobic...
or... some other adjective...

the Hoover dam:
is not a metaphor,
but the state of affairs
that is the 21st century
in its infancy
in having to inherit
the 20th century...

the 20th century didn't exactly
culminate in a zenith
with the atomic bomb...
but...
Oppenheimer...
citing the Hindu poetic
prophesy:

   jetzt ich bin werden
tod; die zerstörer von
                  welten...

i assure you:
give a mathematician
a thesaurus
is equivalent to
giving a ******* addict
a ******* toothpick
to requisite with
a missing pre-
toward a snort...

i.e.:
isn't a prerequisite
a premise?

if that is the case...
or isn't...
what is the entomological
basis for the synonym
with the prefix pre-
to associate an "anomaly"
of -requisite
and -mise?

mathematics lacks
nuance,
or at least there's no need
for nuance
to be grounded in
what is regarded
as: ultimatum:

true / false...

         beyond good & evil,
there is only
the good is true /
the good is false &
evil is true / evil is false...

but...

  why is good,
given the predicate
of the...
the definite article?

in casual expressions...
the good & evil...
well...

     there's God & the devil...
there is never
an "abstract" reference
point in "a" good,
or an "evil"...

the good and God,
"contra"
evil and the devil...

            borrow...
i look upon mathematical
strict rubric and
extract two letters,
like Socrates did in
Plato's theaetetus...

i see:
  the g(o)od and God,
  evil and the (d)evil...

  DO...

broken baron of the hunch
upon the wheel of
the recitation
of the last compensation
of thought:
dislodged from being
and made to
"repent",
in the form of confession...

typos plague elaborating
logical statements
in rigid rubrics...

coincidentally:
http://www.bu.edu/linguistics/UG/course/lx502/_docs/lx502-propositional%20logic.pdf

2.

if φ
is a wff,

3.
   ¬φ
is a wff (well-formed formula)

a negation is as "true"
as an affirmation...

4.
if φ and ψ
are wff, then (φ ∧ ψ),
(φ ∨ ψ), (φ → ψ),
(φ ↔ ψ) are wffs

5. nothing is a wff...

wait a minute...
why do "we" need for the proof
at point 5.?

weren't we dealing with
φ and ¬φ begin with?
so where does ψ fit into all of this,
"logic"?!

what is ψ?!
typo?
if ∧ = conjunction,
∨ = disjunction
→ = implication
↔ = equivalence...

the **** is ψ doing in place
of ¬φ?!

yeah, i might be drunk,
but i still have some screws
to count as involved
in my head being intact...

(φ ∧ ¬φ),
(φ ∨ ¬φ, (φ → ¬φ),
(φ ↔ ¬φ)

are more accurate
statements of "logic"
than

(φ ∧ ψ),
(φ ∨ ψ), (φ → ψ),
(φ ↔ ψ)

conjunction:
   2 events existing together
in a contradiction

disjunction:
two clear alternatives...

φ & ψ are not alternatives,
in such that
  only ¬φ is the only alternative
of φ, whereby ψ could
be presumed to be a
covert alternative: snyonym of φ...

the same logical conclusion
comes within the confines
of ¬φ, φ within the term implication
and equivalence...

but how the **** does
ψ fit into this?

nope... sorry... Picasso makes
more sense right about now...
honest to God,
or a gyrating ***** i'd
prefer to a slug of kalimotxo
down my throat:

look at me...
i too can regurgitate crap
in an alley while *******,
and i don't have to exactly
call it a university publication!

please! please!
find me a point where ψ
is worth the logical argument
in this university paper...
i can't find it!

   i hope it's a ******* typo...
but i doubt it;
i'd love to claim that
i made some purposive
typos of my own...
I've forgotten how to flow.
To seamlessly merge one line with the next,
Was once second-nature to me,
But now I have lost that,
Replaced with disjunction.
Disconnected thoughts that,
Just.
Won't.
Fit together in any kind of,
Harmony or even agreement.
Perhaps what I've said all along,
Has destroyed me too:
Poetry is the bleeding of the soul,
Through the hand,
Onto paper.
But when the soul is confused,
Angry,
Discontent with itself,
It follows that words won't,
Follow on like they used to.
This could be the most honest,
Expression of my mind I've written,
For a long time,
Because I am not thinking,
I am not binding myself to structure,
Or a theme,
Or an image.
I'm just writing,
Hoping that perhaps something,
At least a little meaningful,
Will be portrayed,
Displayed,
Maybe even admired,
If luck smiles on these weary hands.
I have never endeavoured to find myself through words,
I prefer to be lost for words,
For the sake of poetry,
I can stop worrying,
Just.
For.
A minute about who I am,
Lose my inhibitions and scream,
Scream onto the page or screen,
That I am still alive,
And I need not know more than that.
So perhaps worrying about flow is pointless,
Because perhaps that's just where I am at the moment,
Somewhere a little less fluid,
A bit rougher.
And as I've reminded myself in tough times:
Pens write better on a hard surface.
Michael T Chase Mar 2021
Getting help with an answer can often remove any need to think.
Except the need to think about how I could remember how to solve it the next time.
Often I've unknowingly believed that there is a disjunction between common sense and reasoning because I've believed that my common sense was no help.
In reality it was just a lack of communication between common sense and reason.
Learning helps the brain communicate within itself.
It is not merely learning more, but the ability not just to see connections, but communicate them.
Autodidactic
Satsih Verma Feb 2021
Lips frozen by xenophobia.
I was ready for the disjunction between
the republic and the crossed border.

It does not work. Hovering
over the pyre against fire. The wax palace
was ready to go in place of scapegoat.

Do you think this was a
universal failure? For human existence
I will write the anthem with blood.
Oh Father God, deliver us from divorce
May we strengthen our ******* with mighty force
Oh Lord Jesus, save us who are like Joseph & Mary
Grant us all values to keep us united for eternity
Oh Holy Spirit, rescue us from disjunction
Be our home of a strong conjunction
This we ask in our Almighty God. Amen.

-12/20/2015
(Dumarao)
*Gideons Prayer Poems Against Life’s Problems
My Poem No. 453

— The End —