"dispersion" poems
#*Let the evil within be annihilated
And grey be restored
Rejuvenated to vibrancy of colours of love
Dispersion of love and light
Through the prismatic heart
Every soul be washed anew
In colours of the rainbow in mirthful hues
Forgive and forget, past hurt
And in the beauty of love, regale
Let’s celebrate
Holi
The festival of colours, harbinger of spring*#
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
Friendship is like
A diapole diapole interaction
Two different
Entities
Positive and negative
Attracted to each other
Best friendship
Is like a hydrogen bond
Still a diapole diapole
but stronger
Only possible in the presence of
A hydrogen
Someone in the relationship
Able to keep it afloat
A London dispersion
Force
Is like a pleasant acquaintance
Someone you get along with
But no strong emotional ties
To hold you there
Just
Small talk
An ion diapole bond
Is like
A difficult relationship
Opposites attract
But you’re bonded
So strongly
...
That eventually one
Of you just starts
To tear the other apart
Like salt in water
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
In a midwinter night’s dream
i found myself lost again,
or was it even this year ?
It may even go back farther
than yesterdays out of reach,
older than an ancient pyramid stone
Before the rebirth of past life deposits,
unborn orphaned motherless sediment,
flotsam of the ages adrift,
unknown for more than a thousand years
... waiting for so long to see beyond the bounds
High atop a slippery edge-cliff
i clung ―
Searching for a deeper understanding
of who i am;
Roosting like a starving bird of prey
with a broken wing
born alone ... holding on
With a fear in his eyes
that only i could comprehend
Staring way down deep in the pith,
into an internal pitch black abyss,
just begging to see beyond ―
Mindful it's so hard looking
into the eye of a storm
Intimately parsing the recurrent source
of reigning pain
Where the perpetual fog of isolation dwells;
an inversion, preventing dispersion
of the nimbus cold and dark
In the darkness, there bides a suffocating
emptiness,
A swelling silence what loudly knells,
leeching through a perennial ache
An abating voice within hollers unheard,
invisible as a bitter cold wind howling
relentlessly through the hollow pang;
Echoing the subsiding say
(squeezed out) ... of an orphaned soul
deep beneath the light
Awakening to realize ― once i was alive
and
i could feel me holding on to you
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
The blood vats
Stirring clotting goo
A tepid sticky stew
Crimson mess
Spilt on the floor
The hungry goblins
Gulping the pulpy gore
Plasma swimming
In spider web veins
The dripping fluid
Sticking to you
Soaking through
The stained washcloth
Swirling in the warm bath
Cloudy dispersion
Smoky mass
Dark diluting
And disappearing
Through time
And loss
So here we are
Generations of
Vampire blood
Leaching the life force
Spreading the plague
And bleeding
Life from one generation
To the next
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 8:55 PM UTC
///
One day these bricks and buildings were meadows
These fields the processions of spring garden
One day on these meadows used to play the cowboy’s melancholy flute
These fields the playground of the furious grasshoppers
These bricks were rivers
These buildings processions of water
In these rivers the moon's dispersion played on the uprising waves,
How softly the sailor sang his lonely song, disappearing within the shadows!
Travelers,
Have I told you a fairy tale?
///
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
...
..
Much before the door closed
Can be seen regularly when walking on the road
Though dark, see the mass of trash
But did not hear any noise ever
On the side of the sky touch wall
My constant movement
Though shadow yet trademark cynicism
I can go away even closed eyes
Closed eyes within the dark
Yet unbelievable, but brings a dream
A dream within the dark,
See a diamond crystal
Where only light and light dispersion
From each dimension
Suddenly, in dream
I am in front of the closed door,
See a footprint,
Known voice with tune,
Can hear the illusive song
Now neither there exists any tall wall
Nor any closed door in the mind
...
..
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
...You, dearest vagary, aplomb--were
brought to bear.
Vicissitude of memory which is the
dispersion of identity.
Of a time, and of a place--you, a
mellifluous bronze dusk poured upon
a meadow, a solitary immersion, a
moment that harnesses the whole of
the earth, as you are...dearest vagary.
You were afforded as by the citizenry
of the air, lent by an intercontinental
wind.
An undying eloquence featured for all
time--the swaying bud blown to bloom.
You...the beautification of possibility,
its matrices never left in want.
As in withstanding place the round is
made, and remade about you, the whole
of the earth.
Thus, you've no confounding words...
have you?
Thus, this sidelong expenditure that you may--
shall breach the earth you shall.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
The growing day has
Handed over the doyen
To the dawning evening,
Yes, it is the
Responsibility of the
Father to make the
Sacrifices for the son,
Ask the son to wake up
Early on his soul day,
In preparation for the ceremony,
For Ntikuma has exposed
Kwaku Ananse once again,
Perhaps, it was our fault,
For Boakye Danquah has
Gone to the village without a cause,
Now, sprinkle the divine water
From the calabash,
Three times on him,
Oh yes, on the son,
And ask for the Gods blessings
Right after the libation,
Indeed, anyone who does
Not know the drums or horn
Message of his chief,
Gets lost in any dispersion,
Joseph Boakye Danquah,
The true father of Ghana,
We are debtors to your soul.
II
Who is this father?
Ask him to use the three
Fingers between his thumb
And the smallest finger
To smear the mixture of white clay
On his forehead, chick and wrist bone,
For Boakye Danquah has
Gone to village without a cause,
Ah, Boakye was born
In the period where
The stormy rainfall causes
Small ***** to abound,
Hmm, the nations have drunk
The water of affliction
And have eaten the
Strange bread of adversity,
Was anyone there,
To quench his throat?
Was anyone there?
To drink his blood and sweat?
Was anyone there?
To witness this transfiguration?
Indeed, the horns cannot be
Too heavy for the head of the cow that
Must bear them,
Joseph Boakye Danquah,
The true father of Ghana,
We are debtors to your soul.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 5:57 AM UTC
#*Nature has this innate ability to take in many sounds
both unpleasant and kind, insulated its core, penetrating deep, it unravels the mysteries, mysterious its ways, in dispersion to diversity
always bears and offers fruits, fair*#
Jun 22, 2023
Jun 22, 2023 at 1:02 PM UTC
then
he made a gesture
like a farmer with a full hand of seeds
he made a gesture
and colours spilled over the world
and words
like water coloured worlds
dripping in my window sill
flooded in
waves
of forbidden wanting
in a dispersion of me
luths and flutes
silky veils and a galaxy
i made a gesture
walls of cold glass
intangible all the colours
his sail is a wing
a hiatus in the blue
hollowing me
i tie an iron ribbon
to my heart
and watch it
drowning
silently
12.11.14
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Regardless of the contrast or depth of the lens, it all depends on where the
light falls.
Streetlights glowing,
Like bedcovers laying,
Over the harbour waters inky as
Freshly-spilled car-crash blood,
Reflecting deep as a thought can penetrate.
A parade of gunfire
Startles silent rage into the frightened round-up locals
Eyes cowering and arms raised like scarecrow’s overhanging,
While in a side-alley doorway
A soldier anxiously caresses
A girl who he will never speak to again
The tequila-resembling sun standing watch
Their sole clandestine companion.
A child is given relieving news,
Having arrived not without frustrated effort
That she no longer has to follow the same life-stifling routine.
Her doctor, after the dizzying business of congratulating her parents,
Looks out his window without witnessing their departure
Until his eyes are cast back to dispersion
Appreciating fresh rain turn a week’s snowfall
Into puddles upon the ground.
The mind resists the heart’s attempt to repress,
We resist our own borders admitting a consistency of strain
Memory indulging in a fleeting spectacle of sin,
The Sickly exterior of the heart’s delight.
Regardless of the contrast or depth of the lens, it all depends on where the
light falls.
Moments throughout our lives repeated in the stock footage of the
mind,washing thoughts matted out of stark exposure
seeding out a negative frame.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
inverted purpose, a hurting version
verses for this urban exertion
first curse, the burdened dispersion
unworthy service of incursion
perverted circus, a working aversion
reversing their verbal coercion
the first thirst is the verse's assertion
immersed in an urgent excursion
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
Notes, musical keys, rythmic changes-
A modification of the Word
Which purifies her soulfulness
And expresses clarities in the fog,
The hint of Dickinson in her words,
The scent of reality in her reflection,
The words become a path:
One wet summer I heard your words,
The vibrant sky breaths
And the sun became as embers
Of poetic sacrifice,
Through reading your poem
I became as a double being,
Movement began
A sudden dispersion of birds
Followed by the Humm of water
On stone,
Murmurs of infinite moments
Painting them all like some
Poet Saint,
The words became a lineage
To the unfathomable depths of you,
In the helix of hours
The beat of the sea and the stilled
Shimmers of light on water can be found
In the edification of her poetry;
Master strokes,
Like a naked liberation
Of a diamond body beyond
A turquoise sunset,
A co concubine of words
That form constellated meanings
Among the pnumbra,
Reminiscent of the March of hours
In which the words come
And a fixed glitter in her eyes form,
The form of woman,
A form of dizziness
Like a dance of wind and water,
I read between the words,
Vicki,
Vicki,
I imagine a lamp in the middle
Of the night,
A pen and a womans scorching
Words as God had spoken
The First Word,
Like a moon in heat in midday's
Grasp, she counters every word
Of expression
Like a cell for my tortured soul,
She became my solitary star,
I wander in her hours,
Hungry for more words,
A memory inventing itself,
Masterfully,
She makes the sky walk the land.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC
is it strange then to long for wild mountains that spring from all angles?
and stretch to the a sky filled with clusters of white
which escape from view quickly with an ocean wind
to see the unordered grass trompled over by livestock
on their way to the sole tree in the pasture
seeking a brief salvation from a stark ozone-less sun
no bureaucrat planned, manicured this land
he did not sit in a lofty office, feeling the cool breeze of electrically chilled air
it was not voted on, the way the waves are to crash
he did not need the approval of his lay out for pebbles on the beach
corruption did not intermingle the trees, making it cumbersome for humans
or the reclining alp's angles
they were left to the law engrained in movement
the unknown dispersion of marbles across the ground, scientific wonders
now they sit, in their building, living monuments of time
springing up from the ground like ant hills
not understanding
standing on the previous lives of men
entitled
my land
my city
my country
and i long for, my archipelago
stretch of green, a harmonious chord
pining after the days
in D.O.C camps
barefooted
gritty
the feel of sand in the bottom of my sleeping bag
and the wonder of no-man's-land
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
The greatest enemy is the enemy within
The most evil is one most believed as God
The Shepherd sacrificed sheep, and sheep cheered
How can anything not be what it seems
How can I mean other than what I said
How can eyes see soul, when there is none
An apple can be nothing but an apple
A patriot hugs the flag, a christian waves the bible
And the loser, unarmed, accursed, hangs from a tree
In robes of peace, prosperity and power, reigns evil
In dispersion, despair and death, are its enemies
In friends with cleaned feet are traitorous deceivers
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 12:10 AM UTC
One could might hypothesize
That the tears would have
Drained more than
The veins drawing out
Of the confines of the muscle
Pumping sweltering anger
On such a transportation
Of creating a new home
Out of one recognized for three years.
The stacks upon stacks
Of emotional drainage
After the physical had worn out
From problem after inconvenience
After incompetency.
A departure I wrote an outline for
Before I stood at the border
Of goodbyes,
I quickly threw out.
The itch and discomfort,
The aching and drainage
The constant questions in my mind
Throughout the entire time
Divorced me from the clouds
That I foresaw above us
Hugging goodbyes.
The storm was in the lies
That made me hurt
To see such discomfort in your eyes.
Here’s to the storm’s dispersion,
No good deed can split the coming tidal wave.
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021 at 7:34 PM UTC
a voltage feeds my mind
like that of a brief rainfall
where there is an asterisks
of insignificant social commentary
whose reality pertains
to disproportionate events
whose commission
makes a profession out of trivia
which is no more ******* durable
than accumulated dispersion of adrenalin
that of a psychophysical explorative
exploitation of unrealized
perpetual fermentation
that seethes with the singeing smell
that accompanies its lie
those demanding untruths
that lock each and everyone
in a burning prison of panic
a prism of unfocused
visionary liberation perhaps to some
the realization of the cosmos
that lives within the poets interior
a mighty roar of space
waiting to be filled
with visions of future worlds
of future social commentary
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
The candle,
That burning dispersion.
The wick prespires.
The nitro-oxygen air
eaten up with every breath,
in such commonstance as to be ordinary,
and unrevealing.
But how much do you know
about yourself,
about it?
Can you blame a flame?
Can you truly hurt a fly?
Where are you now?
In some place so stuffy,
that you can only wish
that you were something more,
something stupid enough to live,
and not feel the pangs of your billion needles,
cascading down like a waterfall
of death, disappointment, and disorder.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Mist
Irrelevant timeless drift moisture in a collate state triggers dispersion of thoughts and intent what to
Pursue an airy void trouble and worry automatically release the hold on the mind and heart to become
One with density and mystery the familiar evaporates it lays thick and low on the country lane just a
Haze a disjointed broken maze comfort it announces in the softest tingled ease touches your cheeks
What pleasing sensation engulfs you the freedom the same way that fire and colored lights hold you
Transfixed childlike wonder to question to ponder the unseen and the unknown without caution the only stumbling will be that of surprise a gentle moist kiss a touch of a cool hand it is time to assemble
In all the places that are at other times forbidden but now all restrictions are lifted those submerged
Weighty thoughts begin to rise they sway with the sweetest rhythms an unheard but felt symphony
Accost your deepest emotions go with the flow release your inhibitions to the undertow take up the
Oars of this imaginary boat paddle out in deep waves add the silver streaks of moonlight you are only
The lightest shadow mix with all of existence restore depleted stores that were wasted and burned up in
The chaos of life you possess powers that run beyond all reason answer this how long are you going to
Last surge with that truth lay down many items inferior to your nature pick up the bright pulsating bars
Of energy drain them then lay them aside march in the heady knowledge an immortal stands here and is
Passing through the shallows of an earthy walk to strands invisible and their treasures are indescribable
They are my inheritance now they too are surrounded by a mist this day I have bridged the gulf and
United the two the secret place of the most high is to be my dwelling place I think I can soldier on until
My change comes and it will but until it does periodically I will come and sojourn in this tapestry of the
Gloaming and be reborn refashioned by truth that destroys all enemies and affords to me victory
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 3:53 AM UTC
losing nothing
light's dispersion
through cumuli
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC
Oh- falling to the floor
falling off the bat; a swing at love, again
It's not all the same, indifferent but still
the clueless cliché. Anyways what could
I say to not seem the clingy type
a softie sometimes, knowing he'll marry
a strong wife
A dragon, fierce fiery breath
she speaks a word of fantasy, and unlike
the rest- she has a tougher flesh, and presses away
my insecurities with an impressive hug pressing
on me with an impressive chest
Self control out of the handle of my reflection
perhaps my emotional side is never-ending
Cherished by a face that could never disguise a smile;
my awkward smile, belonging to Mr always nice guy
Confidently shy, shying away from being a razor
of cutting words to chat up a girl
My mistake to chat sensibly after a little rude talk,
mixed in those silly jokes. I choke on my physical words,
a silent face and volumes of confidence only in these poems
Club scenes are meaningless to me
meaning less of me would be less active than seen
I'm falling in between an introvert, and a little
extrovert trying to creep out a bit
It's always a risk, and amidst in the mist of dispersion
of a stretched out imagination of a ******
Told always, "you really need a girlfriend"
good at making conversation with just a girl friend
Till feelings are involved, it sort of does in my head
Spares to a secondary nature of testosterone
spiking at a random
Making passes of being a little passive- my confidence
isn't so massive, although my caring eyes and heart
are at times attractive
But I still have the eyes of a jealous man; possessive
to means if I find you as a potential. Potentially pointing
out my heart's gun to shoot around your lines
I'll still be a little awkward saying my hie, and wanting
long hugs goodbyes
I'm just so sorry for being this constant shy guy
Jan 11, 2023
Jan 11, 2023 at 3:58 PM UTC
Irrelevant timeless drift moisture in a collate state triggers dispersion of thoughts and intent what to
Pursue an airy void trouble and worry automatically release the hold on the mind and heart to become
One with density and mystery the familiar evaporates it lays thick and low on the country lane just a
Haze a disjointed broken maze comfort it announces in the softest tingled ease touches your cheeks
What pleasing sensation engulfs you the freedom the same way that fire and colored lights hold you
Transfixed childlike wonder to question to ponder the unseen and the unknown without caution the only stumbling will be that of surprise a gentle moist kiss a touch of a cool hand it is time to assemble
In all the places that are at other times forbidden but now all restrictions are lifted those submerged
Weighty thoughts begin to rise they sway with the sweetest rhythms an unheard but felt symphony
Accost your deepest emotions go with the flow release your inhibitions to the undertow take up the
Oars of this imaginary boat paddle out in deep waves add the silver streaks of moonlight you are only
The lightest shadow mix with all of existence restore depleted stores that were wasted and burned up in
The chaos of life you possess powers that run beyond all reason answer this how long are you going to
Last surge with that truth lay down many items inferior to your nature pick up the bright pulsating bars
Of energy drain them then lay them aside march in the heady knowledge an immortal stands here and is
Passing through the shallows of an earthy walk to strands invisible and their treasures are indescribable
They are my inheritance now they too are surrounded by a mist this day I have bridged the gulf and
United the two the secret place of the most high is to be my dwelling place I think I can soldier on until
My change comes and it will but until it does periodically I will come and sojourn in this tapestry of the
Gloaming and be reborn refashioned by truth that destroys all enemies and affords to me victory
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
i never knew when forgiveness of ******
deviations equated to
the obscurity of citizen allowances,
whereby i was excused from doing ****
like i was excused from having a conscience
stealing your herd of sheep...
but i guess i must have a medieval mentality,
******** childish, having to interpret
the profanity of the tetragrammaton
with the canonical gospels' acts of dispersion,
you said ****** were akin to
meat cleavers... fair enough...
god forgives me butchering you like you
were forgiven having a frolic in the hay...
and we're all one big happy family...
'cos i swear that's when ambiguity on the dogma
entered and the nadir was expressed:
sin - ****** ambiguity - equated itself
to crime - citizen ambiguity -
you want to put that forth to Buddhist
authority chaining ******** bandwagons of
thieves en route to the Tibetan Vatican?
only so much is allowed,
given you're championing one Jew of your fancy
while giving others the gas-chambers...
ain't it just Prince's 1999... we're gonna party
like it's 19-99.... i think you mistook sin with crimes...
that's my "doctorate" opinion...
you said **** with thieving being synonymous,
Christ was saving Greek intellectual culture
with the pederast **** to boot...
St. Paul was encouraging circumcision,
twat-like people with a statue of Buddha asking
whether head meant the shaved one ******
or whether it meant the prickly one gagged on
was on the cards - goose-pimple **** frostbite...
the moment when the forgiveness of sin
turned into the forgiveness of crime...
hence such ****** freedoms right now,
and a... ah... whatever... of challenged citizenship,
why would i? why would anyone even bother?
**** it, let's go crazy, Las Vegas is waiting for us,
the cowboys will never churn out a Thatcher
to "rule the world".
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
Seeking shelter from the ills of the world
Ancient kings built temples
Wind over water
Here is a refuge
And if its our will to further the work
If we can listen to the spirit
We can cross great rivers
We can be correct
Wind over water
The wind drives the water
The wind moves above the water
This is dispersion
It brings us to our ancestral temple
We hear voices from kings of old
Chanting sacrifice
The supreme being
This is dispersion
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC