"disseminated" poems
The Great Debate started,
Parliament was the open forest,
electors were divided into two groups—
Sir Fox's, and
The Lion's,
The first group wanted to overthrow the Lion
from the sovereign head of the forest,
It was a tough job to confront Lion directly,
So, Sir Fox, appointed a Monkey as the Chief campaigner,
and that monkey appointed other monkeys in the business,
Scaring them with a story of vanishing trees, and living on
the land increases the mortality rate if Lion Party continues.
Monkey, the chief campaigner exclaimed,
“We are not living in the rule of law but in the rule of Lion,
All are equal, but the continuous target of a particular community,
Like a beautiful deer, by another community in majority
should be banned, Deers bring historic and aesthetic
significance to the forest
And need to be treated as the same,”
Deers bellowed gleefully hearing this.
Cows felt hurt,
their exclusion from Monkey’s speech
proved to be a setback to the Fox’s Party,
Cows were the most targeted community
by the Carnivores, everyone in the forest knew,
Potential voters were lost to Lion’s Party.
Polarising speeches of Chief continued,
It brought Rhinoceros to its side,
Seeing rhino in political rallies,
Hippopotamus chipped in,
To counter the increasing weight
Political advisor of Lion, i.e, Tiger,
persuaded Elephant to become an official
member of their party.
Hate speeches increased in numbers
Giraffe, the bearer and upholder of law,
Overlooked everything,
the long neck looked tilted towards
an ideology.
Rumours became truth,
truth became rumour
Monkey was good in it,
And an army of monkeys were excellent.
Parrots, Pigeons, Peacock,
**** Cuckoo, Cat,
Loved the importance they got,
Disseminated the Fox loving songs.
The listeners felt threatened,
They had an enemy living between them
and they were considering them friends,
They thanked the Parrot, Pigeon, Peacock
for pointing them out.
Now, biped hated quadruped,
Quadruped hated reptiles,
Reptiles did the same to amphibians,
And in this way the whole animal kingdom
danced in chaos,
The fiery speeches of Sir Fox helped
in creating illusion,
The slogan of the Man as a common enemy
was changed to, Feline as a common enemy,
Felines joined Sir Fox’s Party,
And Canines ran to Lion’s Party,
Obvious was difficult to observe
Obscure was easy to see.
to be continued
Oct 23, 2021
Oct 23, 2021 at 3:22 PM UTC
1444
A little Snow was here and there
Disseminated in her Hair—
Since she and I had met and played
Decade had gathered to Decade—
But Time had added not obtained
Impregnable the Rose
For summer too indelible
Too obdurate for Snows—
3.2k
I want to write a poem
but I have to write code instead
There can be a kind of poetry in code
especially my code
I'm proud of the elegant design
of my loops and logics
my streamlined systems
My code flows
pulling the User along effortlessly
guiding them gracefully from one end of the black box to the other
and out again
No Errors
My code flows
secret haikus left in comment blocks
for other programmers to find
like digital hieroglyphics on virtual cave walls
test data populated with pantheons and
mystical chants from faraway lands
My code flows
water of ones
in sea of zeroes
pouring through me
from aether to mind to muscle to machine
bit by bit
block by block
stacked upon stack
module into module through function and parameters passed
My code flows
flows through me
until the integer flips
the Boolean switch
change of state
status update
now compiled and crystallized
Executable
and then passed on
leaving me
out of my hands
disseminated to The Users
like a prayer to a congregation
I hear the clicking fingers of their choir
singing the song of my code
now flowing through Them
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
These lines experimental but elemental to your mental,
My creativity,
Will never submit to the minimal,
Isotopes subliminal penetrating the simple,
Similes send criminals to infiltrate your biochemicals,
Infected stanzas with stacked syntaxes sickness,
My subconscious semiautomatic and stimulated,
Formulate semblances of Leviathan illuminated,
It's a tragedy my soul's has become a victim of gravity,
Now my temples been raided,
My nirvana's disseminated,
And I've contemplated annihilation of self,
Picturing my end as a senile senior citizen,
With no one by my side,
My mind can't complete a sentiment,
Remembering has become my source of a smile,
But it's making me even more curious to taste the end of this projectile,
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Intestines twisted into a bow
Skeleton, no skin, all bone
Chased into a grave
By someone "brave"
Head cut off, and hung at the hips
Mouth sewn shut, wires in the lips
Promised a voice
In a place of just "noise"
Ears forced down into the pharnyx
Tongue cut off, and swallowed
Chained to the dark
Left with a "spark"
Wasabi poured into each eye
Needles poked into the iris, to dry
Breathing fractured breaths
In the times of "stress"
Fingers shredded in blenders
Toes were sold by the vendors
Broke the rules
To be reduced to mere "molecules"
Heart frozen in ice
Lungs cracked in slices with a knife
Crawling towards a light
Dipped in "fright"
Genitalia, mutilated
Thighs and chest burned til it was disseminated
Walking into the darkness
Trying to reach the "conconscious"
Frigida glacies
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
Sweet silver tongue
Builder of hope and of Nations undone
Whispers of light against the darkness beyond
Oppressive dictators, shackles of freedom with the tune of a hum
Hum sweet silver tongue, do you tire to be a rudder
Sailing your ship through the cracks of instability, tearing down a sister, or a brother
Setting up systems, to rob child from their mother
Foreign lands now discovered, shackled hands, the nations dollar
When you’re sitting in your palaces,
Sipping blood from your chalices, made from labour of your educated salve, indoctrinated ways, disseminated lies- made to believe these shackles are made to save
Sweet silver tongue, do you blame the throne or do you blame the song, do you blame the culture gifted from generations gone
Do you blame the man upon whom this title is on,
Or do you blame the nations lalaby to the newborn, “live for today, tomorrow may never come”
Price of admission
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 4:22 AM UTC
Social media's intent was to spread authentic information among people but a few motivated by their selfish motives used it to generate those flocks which easily form conjectures just on the basis of baseless accusations disseminated from unknown sources and keep on barking with profanities on others.
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC
Down at the business factory profits were low
or at least lower than the shareholders wanted
so Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man masterminded a brilliant plan:
“We have three people performing a task
two people could accomplish while losing their minds
attrition rates shouldn’t be a concern
because we’ll just streamline the jobs
so there’ll always be desperate workers
who can easily replace the disillusioned ones.”.
The other businessers were impressed
the emperor of business had heard enough:
****** you’re ‘Work People to Death‘ theory might just work.
I’m naming you chief execution officer of the company.”.
Profits went up and were disseminated amongst the higher-ups
so that everyone that mattered was happy
all thanks to Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man.
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 3:15 AM UTC
When death’s errand boy arrives to collect the grocer's bill,
The balance will have remained unanswered.
The mythology of life is death,
And like tales dispensed in the oral tradition—
The Iliad, Beowulf, the Odyssey—
The story of death changes with nearly every recitation.
The order that I seek is something more like chaos,
And it perpetuates despite all reasoned inhibition.
Like the machinations of a tired Proteus,
Being accosted at unawares.
It will surface and speak to my indignation,
This, while the soul concedes to my self-effacing tradition.
Yet, it cannot be mine, and it cannot be yours.
I too often return to evaluate my position,
And still find it impenetrable—
Unmoved by any fool’s tepid fears.
But death’s account grows continuously nearer,
And one cannot pretend that accounts of its comings and goings,
Were ever disseminated by a man who, in his egocentric violence,
Was anything like sincere.
This reality in which I squander spiritual and moral trust,
Achieves its most cutting sentiment,
When it proposes that I change into it,
And I lean now on a bleeding altar,
The last bastion of an impecunious star child--
A false conduit.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
In the attic
Swallowed ether
lust on the highest shelf
Down the well
Engorged consolation
salt discharged for the self
In the mirror
Mute refutation
the evasion-led sublime
Up the tower
Disseminated bile
the beguilement of the grime
Jan 7, 2025
Jan 7, 2025 at 2:44 AM UTC
I took out a piece of parchment to scribble down the things i wanted to ask you, hoping the angels would bring it to you.
I thought perhaps, should i ask why? Why you couldn't hold on to life a little longer because i still can't get over the fact that you are gone. Or maybe to ask if it is really you who appears in my dreams...or am i just overly hallucinating to the point of memory alteration.
I should ask what keeps you busy because you mentioned the first time we talked in my dreams that you couldn't visit sooner because you had been busy. I should ask why you can't appear in my dreams everynight. Like the night before my graduation when you came and we took pictures full of glorious technicolour and we were content.
I should also ask whether you noticed that i am blue, broken...i lost myself. That I am so afraid of loss that i feel the need to push the ones i love away. To ask whether you noticed that i keep to myself so that i do not burden those around me when i break down with the mere mention of "mum".
Or let me just ask for advice. I grew up accepting the concept of broken hearts because somehow humans decided that figuratively the heart is made of glass. But mine isn't. It's made if sand. I lost a grain or two over the years but now...i should ask for advice on how to mend my disseminated heart. For it is scattered into millions of grains.
And for some reason time seems to have gone to a stance. The saying that time heals all wounds seems vague to me now. For no matter how much time passes by, this wound isn't healing. Its hard to think about you, but its even harder not to.
So after contemplating all these questions, i took out my quil and wrote the one question i was desperate to ask you:
mother, are you well?
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
If only words are enough
If only a hug can be the key to your soul
If only my touch electrified your veins
If only my look melted your heart
If only the touch of my lips transfered words to you
If only our bodies disseminated love to our world
If only the river running under our bridge didn't wash away our flow
If only submission gave me remission from a love that circulates through my blood.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
I was watering the vegetable garden , a rainbow appeared where the stream divided , a thousand individual prisms colorfully disseminated , fell to the ground
The humidity screamed for absolution on a calm , cloudless Dog Day of Summer , the supplication , denied ! Falling upon deaf ears ..
Front porch rocking chairs , ceiling fans strain under the fiery siege of August, fly strips gently sway beneath their mediocre output ..
Popsicle sticks and Orange Crush bottles are covered in ants , Guinea wasp light upon the window screens , children laugh in the distance
Jonesboro was under fire , continuous cloud to ground lightning
Stockbridge laid under the gun , preparing for the onslaught , clothes lines in need of attention , garbage cans , hanging baskets and welcome mats brought indoors !
If it's raining over my house , it's most assuredly raining all over the world .
The steam poured off the blacktop later that night , a future storm over someone else tomorrow ? The burden of streetlight apparent , consumed in the difficulty of night , I am in recognition of such plight !
My star struggles to find its place , tears recycle into storm drains , transpire , flood defenseless habitats such as mine !
Five o'clock in the morning , ceiling fans work their magic for now !
Crepuscular wildlife , a chemically afflicted depressive replays his familiar lot in life ...
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
[May 8, 2017]
Iridescent particles radiate plasma, recharging static contamination
Fueling infinite constellations, projecting boundless manifestations
Nebulae mold variant patterns, clogging limitless limitations
Eloquent metallic vessels navigate, defying chaotic creation
Cosmic beings intervene passive voyage, gravitational forces surge
Electron emissions incapacitate circuits, hostile capsules converge
Pressurized lasers illuminate, accelerated photons transverse void
Noctilucent energies deflagrate, vacuum consuming alloy destroyed
Abyssal proximity swallows vast mass, bottomless absorbing singularity
Ravenous aeon mercilessly devours, malicious translucent calamity
Fathomless malevolence seethes, corrupting magnificent innocence
Tainted cosmos amplifies density, embodying absolute omnipotence
Galaxies progressively deteriorate, distorting ancient orbital trajectory
Dimensional vibrations reverberate, imploding parallel centuries
Planetary extinction disseminated, bequeathing oblivion eternal
Macrocosm matrix terminated, transmitting external extraterrestrial…
Operating System deleted.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 4:48 AM UTC
i want to live in a world of thoughtfulness
one where every action having an opposite is remembered equal
where we admire the different and accept its importance in keeping life interesting
and where its difference is admired simply for being
whenever two the same congregate a sliding scale is created
and the different become separated to be judged by one mans thoughts amplified and affirmated
and then lossily disseminated
i want to live in a place where we think our own thoughts
where in action or inaction we decide for ourselves that what is right is what is law
i dont want anarchy as a political congress
i want anarchy inherent and dominant in the whole of humanitys thought process
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
My poetry will circumnavigate the world,
And ride the waves beyond the continents.
Maybe someday I'll become translated into many languages.
Somewhere my words will grace many moments.
Even though I was born to disadvantages,
My poetry has resonated beyond the Ghetto.
Sonewen, the womb of abject poverty,
Who once prayed for the children of Soweto
Look at where you placed my poetic identity
See what your genes engraved in my DNA?
Just listen to the poet in me roar like a lion.
Old verses I wrote from the belltower of the College of West Africa,
Rhymes I perfected in the Chapel of AME Zion,
Has become spoken words I penned in Europe,
Disseminated daily on platforms on the internet.
Great words of motivation engineered for hope.
I was born to write, for this journey I am set.
IB-Poetry©
01/02/2019
#Bassapoet©
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 2:36 AM UTC
Be my muse
Entangle me with fear
A blossoming lotus
Makes me lionhearted
Quickly still
Powerful will
Gather the disseminated members
We shall proceed to the next
The chassis is ready
Caress my heart
Be my muse
Embodied in violet
It sinks to my bones
Elegance perceived
Luminosity received
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
memorize, dismember, revive
This isolation has left me rigid,
eteranlly printed into this desolate landscape.
rememnants of the bones
that I tore from my chest for you
the residue of you still on my skin
inadequate, remember
I am hollow, my insides disseminated
around your creation.
How can one march with no bones?
souless, I cannot find myself let alone you.
How does the Earth dilate
deprived of it's oxygen?
dismiss, absolve
My heart was dug out
to replace your resonant ribcage,
but now we are not parallel
I am the hollow one,
depleted and collapsed
from the albatross I've seized from your lucidity
scarce, barren
i cannot reassemble, i am still sown
should I condemn you
or bear no malice?
recollect, release
absolve, exempt, alleviate
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 8:42 PM UTC
The plane that brought me here has long gone.
The fear of being isolated & rootless here, disseminated over time.
The strength of positive thinking flowered in the whenua.
The power of finally being one’s own self blossomed like sweet red pohutakawa
This is what I gained in 10.
The love of the land and its tangata whenua, swooned me over
The beauteous feeling of living simply soothed my ageing soul
The ease of making friends (a skill I had given up on) was really as ‘easy as’.
Life is there to be taken, not endured.
This is what I learned in 10
September 19th 2018
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 5:08 PM UTC
In the beginning was the Word
And the Word was good - good and powerful
And so those in power dictated what was allowable
Claiming the rights of absolutum dominium
But soon found it too strong to be restrained by barriers of the tongue
And while they thought the Word was securely locked
It turned out to be the kinda Word that could not be blocked
It was still very good - good and angry
And in righteous anger in duplicate it broke free
To invade the hearts and minds of the laity
Of men and women like you, like me
to shake off the shackles of the antiquated educated
And to settle into the more readily disseminated.
The Word was out and stayed out after curfew
Keen to travel as far as it could do
To spread wide it's indelible red ink stain
A no matter how hard you scrub it will still remain kinda stain
Recklessly stubborn, to colour, to infest
to fully extend its world wide out stretch
Using every digital tweet and text
And to go on to cast its world wide net
So now you can all binge-feast on the freed up goodness
Of the eternal Word who was once made flesh
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:43 AM UTC
Once upon a time in a faraway land
Where evil ran rampant, as many as desert sand
Bloodshed and betrayals, deceit and greed
In here the devil reigns, while good men bleed
Life in here can only be called heaven
To the corrupted souls and wretched minds
Sins and selfishness are a dime a dozen
That unrestrained freedom, where no laws that binds
Love have long turned cold
As cold as winter’s ice
Morals and conscience have long been sold
Every promise said, probably lies
In the darkness a ray of light shone
Flickering, yes but still holding on
Threatening to extinguish at any moment
A common occurrence and another light to lament
But expectations are suddenly broken
For the light, instead of extinguishing had brighten
Now the darkness is threatening to fade
With new born light the evils with farewells bade
That one luminescence spread its wings and scope
Over the mountains, the seas and skies
It propagated love and disseminated hope
Never ceasing until it was time for its demise
All it took was a single spark
From a bleak place, to a bright future they embark
Even if doubtful never forsook the hope in thy heart
For we’ll never know what’ll happen if we start
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
And bard men song
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête
With clunky meter
And rhythms wrong
With stumbling stanzas
And rambling on
I must confess
My souls intent.
My fear,
To be regarded as
Just decent
No I'm not the son of Xanthippus
Who instigated the apogee of Athens
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions
Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted
Won a few
Others busted
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering
I've lived like Cummings
The farthest extent of emotions
I've kept a drug induced devotion
But never could I stop from wondering
Never could cease sundering
I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static
And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch
I've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use
I've drank with old lost men, dreamers, sloths, faux intellectuals, and conniving *****
I've seen them carefully explain their situation
And hope for their future.
Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
My poetry will circumnavigate the world
And ride the waves beyond the continents.
Maybe become translated into many languages
Somewhere my words will grace many moments
Even though I was born to disadvantages
My poetry has resonated beyond the Ghetto.
Sonewen , the womb of abject poverty,
Who once prayed for the children of Soweto
Look at where you placed my poetic identity
See what your genes engraved in my DNA
Just listen to the poet in me roar like a lion.
Old verses I wrote from the belltower of CWA
Rhymes I perfected in the Chapel of AME Zion
Have become spoken words I penned in Europe
Disseminated daily on platforms on the internet
Words of motivation engineered for hope
I was born to write, for this journey I am set.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC