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Olivia Kent Jun 2013
Buttercups Diversify!
Posted by Olivia Kent on June 19, 2013 at 11:46am
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Buttercups Diversify!

In peach tinted temple of time,
Painted in poetry's dreams,
We kiss, we talk, we ,
Writing leisure through pleasure and pain,

I laid on your bed,
You bathed my shoulders so sore,
Left me smouldering with desires for you,
You donated to me, while we played in daylights sweet kiss,
A sweet single bright buttercup,
Dressed in waxen yellow,
Precious petals sparkling, shining ,
Glowing in the afternoon, after laying on the the spiky dry grass,
After dancing had passed,

A garden full of dreamers dressed in pink and white, blessed with fragrance, pure.
Collected from a century of rose tree,
The tree had seen much over the years about a century I was told,
Witnessed bombings in the blitz,
Watched mother's father's children's kiss,

Flowers of such beauty, dressed with a drizzle of love's sensation tickles,
As the dance goes on!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
721

Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—
In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—
Whose Prince—is Son of None—
Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—
Himself—Himself diversify—
In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—
’Tis Miracle behind—between—
A Crescent in the Sea—
With Midnight to the North of Her—
And Midnight to the South of Her—
And Maelstrom—in the Sky—
dazmb Jun 2015
a lupine prayer
to bear and bull
cry wolf
cry wolf
cry wolf
now look into his eyes
until you think like I do
and then take a desperate man
for his last penny
(finance options available)
go long on a cheeky Nando's
followed by
no
inflation
constant
expansion
short the small print
and profit from the fight
against pollution by
investing in the future
but as returns don't come cheap
diversify and purify the self
the Ganges is so polluted
it has gall bladder cancer
the main economic indicators
are telling us that
inflation is set to jump, while
British statisticians are optimistic
that the housing ladder
will continue to defy gravity
as it is an export barometer
with a blue eyed quant inside
crying wolf
crying wolf
cry wolf
Aiden Sep 2017
my heads up in space
but
please give me grace
im
working at a slower pace
and
im not in a very good place.

you say you believe me but that’s a lie
you know,
sometimes i’d just rather die
you don’t
believe how i identify
you know
it doesn’t hurt to diversify.
MacKenzie Turner Mar 2013
I used to keep my baby teeth in a butterscotch tin.
I guess I was making an investment
in tooth-fairy stock; trying to diversify my easter bunny portfolio.
Quarters: Like chocolate I could feed into a Coinstar and turn to dollar bills
which I could then use to buy more chocolate.

I just, hey, I just remembered that I have a butterscotch tin filled with quarters
sitting in the back of my closet right now. Funny,
when things move in circles like that--I can’t even remember
the last time I ate a butterscotch. Or even how my final tooth
came out, which I’d think would be a milestone.

I was eating an egg-salad sandwich when I lost one of the last ones--
I just took a bite and one tooth stayed behind.
For weeks I couldn’t even look at a sandwich,
I just kept thinking about the disturbing look of blood on mayonnaise.
I wonder if there’s much business for the tooth fairy these days--
my dad, winding blue ribbons around small stacks of quarters so they’d look nice;
my dad, stepping on LEGOs in the dark and stifling swears;
my dad, navigating bedroom geography to make a swift exchange
while I slept and turned a tidy profit, trading old small parts
for riches and a grown-up mouth.
Now I wonder what they did with my wisdom teeth,
after they pulled them out last year.
Were they drilled out, finally, into dust? Or did
a dental surgeon slip some pilfered teeth
beneath his pillow on the sly,
turning one last profit out of my face,
the summer someone noticed
I needed a grown-up mouth?

All I know is that for days
I stayed at home moaning into my pillow,
strung out on percocet and eating anything
that could be sipped through a straw.
(It was only then I discovered the Sonic had stopped
serving butterscotch shakes--years ago, apparently.
You’d think I’d have noticed. But then, you’d think
I’d notice lots of things.)

I wonder how much my teeth would be worth now.
I wonder if the tooth-fairy has adjusted for inflation.
I still get excited over stray quarters,
but now I guess I just have to find them on the street
like everyone else does.
It's been awhile. I stopped posting about a year ago for reasons. I'm not dead.
Tien - Tim Jul 2013
Sitting alone in my bed,
Anxiously yearning the touch of something different.

Contemplating about differences,
Visualizing the new experiences,
Mesmerizing about different beauties,
Fantasizing the new opportunities,
About women of different cultures,
Ethnicity and upbringing.

Pay no mind to the language barrier,
As our body speak that universal language,
We can have intellectual conversations,
We can have passionate  interactions.
Lets's ponder with deep imagination,
As we diversify this love, ignore it's discrepancies,
So girls of all colors come closer and get drawn like crayola,
As we paint this picture to see what we can make of this blend of colors.

Envision this:
Background music effectively babysitting my thoughts as I listen,
Laying under the moon, 
With that special person. 
Inwardly rehearsing, 
Every move to make, 
Opportunities to take,
Intaking the passion from the air she breathes out, 
Creating chemistry not even Einstein could figure out.

This love should be an equal opportunity,
You plus me that's all that should matter.

So would you explore your heart?
Release the stereotypes that keep you in the dark?
As darkness falls,
Our temperatures rise.
A reflection of moonlight shimmers in those eyes.
They tell me your secrets;
I tell you no lies.

What lies beneath your skin will be ugliness' demise.
Ironic, in the dark you see me for who I truly am.
And I tell you who you truly are.
So far. So good.
So deep, it goes beneath your beauty,
It goes beyond whatever society will tell you not to do with me.

Tonight your biases shall not rule thee,
For I am king of this pride.
Swallow your pride and swallow my pride.
Release the wait of inhibition and take this ride.

Our inner flames fueled by passion shall light our way.
They say, we are blind but it is only in darkness that we truly see.

Give up shallow emotions, let your heart be free.
Immerse yourself in this reality:
My love is river, all else is only skin deep.
A.R., Sidney, and Tien
judy smith Apr 2015
Getting the fashion industry excited about an event is no plum task. And yet season after season, Anna Sui does it with her thoughtful and fun runway shows. Blame it on her ability to transport her audiences deep into her world full of references that range from Pre-Raphaelites to Diaghilev to disco. (Of course, the retro soundtracks and top models don’t hurt, either.)

Lately, Sui’s been sharing her passion for fashion history with a wider audience by taking on many collabs, the latest of which is with O’Neill, in stores now. Just in time for summer, the designer crafted a selection of swimwear and cover-ups that echo the bohemian mood of her main collection but also target a new kind of customer. We caught up with Sui at her Soho store to reflect on her career, her favorite muses, and texting with Anita Pallenberg.

You’ve been doing more collaborations in general lately—why is it important to you to diversify into these arenas?

Well, there are certain limitations that we have as far as production for what we’re able to do. A great way to overcome that is to work with somebody who has the expertise in that product. So working with Frye, they make the coolest, sturdiest boot that you can imagine, and so I think this is my third time collaborating with them. They’re just dreams to work with. It takes you to another place. And also you learn so much, because we’re so limited as far as resources now that it opens up new avenues. I did the same with the Coach bags and with the luggage with Tumi and now this collection with O’Neill.

How did you get involved with O’Neill?

Our sales manager knew somebody at O’Neill, and she started thinking that it would be such a great pair-up between O’Neill and Anna Sui because O’Neill is very much our girl. They’re very print-oriented and known for their surfer style, but we wanted to incorporate our bohemian style with it. I think that we’ve blended it so well. The clothes are just so dreamy; we were all just oohing and ahhing over these lace pieces.

That perfect white lace dress is a very necessary summer item.

It’s so true. I remember one summer I was looking at Naomi [Campbell] pictures on a yacht on Daily Mail or something, and every day she had the most beautiful, little white baby-doll dress. I thought, Where did she find all those?! But she can just zero in on something, too. That’s always been my dream, to have all those gorgeous white baby-doll dresses.

You have the best references season after season—who was the beachy surfer girl that you looked to for this collab?

We wanted to capture that true bohemian feeling of the ladies of Laurel Canyon: Joni Mitchell, Michelle Phillips, all those girls you put pictures on the wall and are like, “I hope I grow up and look like this.” So what we tried to capture was that dream.

I think fashion in general is really swinging toward the Anna Sui vibe, very bohemian.

It’s exciting. It’s kind of like a new beginning again. We’ve had so much reaction from all the stores and press—it’s like when I first started. It’s got that same feeling. It’s wonderful.

How do you define who your customer is and continue to change and grow with her over the years?

I think that somewhere I never grew up, and it’s still that same dream as when I was looking at the pictures of Michelle Phillips. It’s still always that same thing, and no matter where I go with the collection, Vikings or Pre-Raphaelites, there’s still that bohemian girl there. That was always my ideal. As much as I try to veer away from it, there are always a couple of those Michelle Phillips and Joni Mitchells in the collection. Through every collection you can find them.

So what’s the secret to staying young forever then?

I think loving what you do. You can’t ask for more. This is what I wanted to do since I was 4 years old, and just the fact that I’m able to do it and do it globally—I work in Japan and I work in Europe and I work in New York—it’s kind of a dream. It’s a lot of hard work and I’m very, very dedicated to it. I do a lot of sacrificing of other things, but it’s what I’ve always wanted.

As someone who’s been in the business for so long, how do you stay inspired and not get worn out or jaded?

One of the things that I love the most is research—learning new things and exploring new things. That’s what I do when I work on a collection: I find something that sparks my interest and then I’m obsessed with and I just go into it. It’s like going into the rabbit hole. Then all of a sudden you find out all these other things because one thing leads to another. Like when I did the Ballets Russes collection [Fall 2011], I saw that beautiful Diaghilev exhibit at the V&A; and I thought, OK, now I can be inspired by those Léon Bakst drawings. I remember one of the Ormsby Gore sisters was telling me that the way they started wearing vintage was because of a sale of the Ballets Russes costumes in, like, 1968. They couldn’t afford the principal costumes, but they could afford the costumes of the Sugar Plum Fairies, all these crushed velvets. So they started wearing them on the street, and all of a sudden the Beatles and the Stones and everybody else started following what they were doing. Well, don’t you know, in the Diaghilev exhibit, there was a film of that auction. I was just like, “Oh, my God.” That’s what sparked that whole thing where everyone was looking romantic and medieval. I love finding that connection. That makes my day—that makes my season when I find that out.

Do you feel like it’s harder or easier today to communicate that to your customer? I feel like with the pressures to make Instagrammable moments, it’s become very hard to get people excited about the history of fashion.

There are so many levels in what I do. Somebody like Tim [Blanks] will get the really intricate things, but then the obvious things will be the things that people talk about the most. I always try to bring it all back, make it current, and tie it in to something that’s happening in our pop culture, like the Viking thing. It’s really true—I was watching [the History channel TV series] and I got that idea. It wasn’t an intellectual idea, but that’s really how it happened. I think that you have to put it on different levels.

Is there one specific era or muse you feel like is the most Anna Sui?

My biggest idols are Anita Pallenberg and Keith Richards. So at the end of the day, it’s always like: Is there something that Anita would wear? Is there something that Keith would wear? Is it cool enough for them? And then I usually send Anita an image and say, “This is the outfit that I did for you.”Read more here:marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses
Zemyachis Apr 2015
When will we ever learn
Not to love with ALL our heart
I suppose it just means
I'm a bad economist.
Christine Jul 2010
I haven't been writing much lately.

My vault is being emptied into you
Instead of into poems,
I think.

Maybe I'm running low
And need to go to the bank to get some change.

Maybe I need to
Diversify my portfolio, so to speak.

Maybe
I need to go to the casino
And take a gamble to see if I can refill it.
But I've never been good at any game but slots
So you'd have to come help me.
We can count cards all night
And stuff my safe with the anticipation
And risk of getting caught.

Maybe I just need an accountant.
Maybe I need a loan.
Maybe I need you to be my loan-shark.
- From on love and other twisted things
There once was a child living wild and free
Within that child are an abundance of dreams
To become anything his mind wishes to be.
One day the moon glistens and seduces his eye
And the white puffy suits begin to suit his mind.
A week later his minds ideas begin to diversify.
He sees a hero in blue show what he can do, so,
Now he wants to grow up and catch bad guys too.
In another week or two that idea will be through.
Next thing you know, he’s playing catch with dad
Watching ball on TV thinking “That would be rad!”
But that doesn’t last and he decides to move past
Because as you grow up you find out who you are
And realize that not everyone can be a shining star.
Rather, be your own star, that’s what’ll take you far.


Time flies by and this child is now a grown man.
His mind has matured and he developed a plan
To become as successful and happy as he can.
He still misses the days where he could dream
Of anything his mind could dream to be, but,
He knows you must be blind before you can see.
Now he’s is the real world doing what he loves.
He worked for what he wanted and never gave up
When life threw a curveball he put on a catchers glove.

It doesn’t take a man to fill a boy’s shoes
It takes a boy to fill a man’s shoes.
In other words,
Don’t let people tell you what to do with your life.
You were born with your own two feet
To eventually walk in your own two shoes.
If you let someone fill your own shoes
You will lose the feet you were born with to walk on.
Instead of living a life in the driver seat
You have to settle as a passenger
Letting the driver control your direction.
Just a random poem I wrote about a kid growing up with dreams.
Steven Hutchison Apr 2013
1.
Because you are lonely too. And you know what it's like to spend hours waiting for a notification that someone values what you say. Verification that some of the people in your box of friends still walk through your forests waiting for trees to fall.

2.
Because you didn't understand the metaphor and so it must be deeper than your reach. Because people who appreciate poets are more approachable than poets themselves, and are far less likely to spend Saturday nights alone.

3.
Because the words look like family. Because when they pass your teeth it's as if your heart joins in chorus, and their syntax wraps cozy round your shivering bones. Because their eyes look like yours and because they know how to cut you, but don't.

4.
Because you are in love. And if a raccoon tore a hole in your garbage bag, ate last week's green chocolate cake, and returned it to your porch shortly after, you would see poetry in it. Because poems look like pies through rose colored glasses and it's really hard to find a bad pie.

5.
Because you hate this poem but won't tell me. Because our relationship hangs on your approval, and you know I'll expect you to make me feel ok about writing this. To tell me people don't appreciate real art anymore, and that's why no one else has responded.

6.
Because it doesn't rhyme, and there are numbers separating the stanzas that force you to read the last line slowly. Because it references Facebook and so it's something you can relate to. Because it's cliché enough to be memorable, and a little out of the box but still inside mine.

7.
Because you know why I wrote it. And you know that seeing your name beside it will be all the consolation I need. Because their is loyalty in a signature that even our forefathers acknowledged, and because it's the best way you know to take sides.

8.
Because the last thing you liked was McDonald's French Fries and you're looking to diversify your portfolio.

9.
Because you want me to remember you. Because we haven't spoken in years outside of birthday wishes and silence is a hard habit to break. Because neither of us is sure who the apology belongs to but because you're willing to take a step on faith.

10.
Because you know the impact an echo can have on its target. Because we all scream from stages built with fearful hands. We carry microphones in our pockets on nights too quiet to sleep and purge our lungs of their angst. Because this cave can not be empty. Because words are not like family unless they are spoken by someone we love. Because some nights all I need is a name to believe I still have my own.
Theplishk May 2022
the battle cry for
creative violence is:

"Diversify the wounds!"
poems from my twenties
Perfection of my bad habits/
headed to Budapest seeking Buddha/
the root of all evil had it/
bared fruit which is truth/
prequel to the madness/
time could only tell
so I'm killing it on tales end/
new urban legends substitution time just flew bye/
plane to see tail spin
nose dive flat crashing
I need coffee to survive/
know limit is the sky
I'm under the weather cloudless grounded temperature on the rise/
I could bite my tongue
So I speak with my eyes/
blink you may miss it like a mistress/
spending all yours with your wife/
life is a drug addicted/
I need a second opinion/
doctor told me death is all that can be prescribed/
what a gamble if I lose shambles all in or diversify/
Spirits in the air impaired perceptions unclear/
All these bad habits
I'm ill prepared/
Circle of life where do we go from here/
avalon Apr 2018
i spend a lot of time changing, changing clothes and changing earrings and glasses and world views. my opinions leave me quicker than my eyelashes do, and i don't know how to stick them back on because false eyelashes aren't cheap but they don't sell fake opinions at the dollar store. i don't even know what currency i'd use to buy them---my energy? morals? creativity? all spent and gone months before now. i spend most of my energy trying to become the kind of person people like, or at least admire, or are at least intimidated by. if i can't care about you at least i can make you want me to. is that fair? does my loneliness justify the pedestal i put myself on? pride is my only currency left and i don't know how to diversify. at this point all i know how to say is i'm sorry, i'm sorry i'm constantly a changed person, constantly ridding myself of the baggage tugging on my skin, baggage that sits quietly until i am finally comfortable in my seat, quietly until it screams and i have to start over again. unclipping luggage was never so difficult as a child but then again i didn't have this much.
Matt Jun 2015
1.) Our US based Clients have recently begun negotiating/implementing changes to the terms of our Purchasing Agreements that will allow them the ability to pay in currencies other than the US Dollar. Usually, the most requested forms of payment are now in either RMB/Yuan, Euros, Rubles, or Dinars.

2.) Tied to this, we have also noticed that our US based Clients are relocating their payment centers out of the US, usually from New York. Instead, we are now being told that we will need to be invoicing our US Clients through their new payment offices, located in such places as Dubai, Singapore or more times than not; Hong Kong. Also, those same individuals/Department VPs, usually based out of New York, we are now finding, have also suddenly relocated to these various countries in order to set up their new payment centers.

The companies involved are household names.

So if they are starting to diversify their payment centers away from using US Dollars, we (meaning I and my Chinese partner), can only assume that they know something is coming and that being tied to a US Dollar based transaction could place them at a competitive disadvantage.
Zachary Fore Sep 2010
They have been bought
everything has a price
the best way to invest
to diversify
to profit
is to take free will
and end it
the market loves that dollar
and so do we
worse than extremists
are those who walk the line
between sanity and the alternative
everything is better
without inhibition
edwill makamu Jan 2016
I thought and I set of what life is to me
Actually! I have a dream
I have a dream to open doors and let my wishes in to survive
I anxiously and I urge to make my life valuable and let the past be

I have a dream, a dream to socialise
I have a dream, a dream to express my talents, to society yes.
I have a dream, a dream to brighten my future, to society yes.

I have a dream, a dream to handle challenges and let my heart love and care
Acquire the ability and stabilise the requirements of my thoughtful senses and hopes
Resemble the minds of those who heal and let me breath out disgrace to suit grace

I have a dream, a dream to diversify
I have a dream, a dream to successful life
I have a dream, a dream to see and individual stand and say,

because of you, I've build an empire
because of you, I never give up
because of you, I'm singing a song
and I say, thank you
thank you for making me believe
thank you for building trust in me
thank you.

I have a dream.
anything is possible if you believe, dream big and one day you will enjoy the the fruits of your positive thoughts and actions.
Thomas Charlton May 2019
I dream of a world where passions are free to thrive,
Where we’re not controlled by rules that tell us how to live our lives,
But we’re stuck inside a world where people don’t try to diversify,
This place I call the place where people’s passions go to die.

I don’t think people understand it but we’re all basically the same,
Listening to the same repetitive music over again and again,
I don’t like what I’m hearing it sounds illogical and vain,
I listen to what I listen to so how people view me is maintained.

It’s the same with fashion, technology, media and trends,
And no matter how much I want to leave it, the cycle never ends,
My personality is biased and based on what society recommends,
And makes me contemplate if those I call friends are really friends.

Because I like poetry and writing and to most that’s quite obscene,
I’m not like them buying expensive clothes from expensive magazines,
So when I look into the mirror I know exactly what I see!
I see a guy who’s way too scared to be who he wants to be!

Step back, Breathe in, breathe out, repeat, relax,

There’s a point about all of this that I’m wanting to inspire,
If there’s something that you love, wish to be or admire,
Don’t sit by idly, letting the passion you have expire,
Do something with your dreams and make it something you require.

So rise up! Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and can’t be,
Who cares wether or not the people surrounding you agree,
The passion inspires action and the action is the key,
For you to say to yourself how great it is to be me.

So you finally made it, a world where passions are free to thrive,
Where you’re not controlled by rules that tell you how to live your life,
A world that you created to be slightly more diversified.
You’re no longer in the place where people’s passions go to die.
Guy Howard Nov 2019
So Corbyn has promised the Earth
And Labourites can't see the mirth
Diane Abbott's sums
Will Make us all bums
With no homes and negative worth

JC will fix our NHS
Sort out the Conservative mess
Millions more Docs and nurses
From his magical purses
Where the money's from's anyone's guess

Countless new cops on the beat
Is Corbyn's inspiring new bleat
But his short working week
Turns the scene rather bleak
With less police hours on the street

"For the Many" you hear Corbyn say
But if Jeremy gets his own way
He'll jump through the hoops
For terrorist groups
Like our good friends the old IRA

Corbyn stands by unchecked immigration
To diversify our entire nation
Don't shed a tear
As our new friends land here
Viewing our jobs with anticipation

Renationalise everything now
The TUC love a good row
Production will dive
As untouchables skive
Thanks to Labour's trades union cash cow

Labour's 70s weren't all that bad
Even though they made millions sad
Corbyn will take us back
But you won't get the sack
For the unions, we all should be glad

Tax big companies ever so hard
Is Jeremy's vote-winning card
Then look on in glee
As these companies flee
And your job moves to some foreign yard

Democracy thrives in the Left
The way Corbyn works is so deft
We'll have vote after vote
Till the miserable goat
Gets results that won't leave him bereft

My conclusions may seem rather gory
It's Labour's ridiculous story
The only way free
Anyone sane can see
Is to cross the box next to the Tory
Brieana Rose Mar 2015
I hate you , that's very vigorous
The damage you have done , diversify , mutilated , abandoned .
My heart decayed , by every deceit from your prismatic divine lips.
I have become so numb to the brokenness , I'm lying if I said I loved you.
Silence but yet surrounded by so many , emptiness but yet so full of rage.
I close my eyes , squeeze them so hard I'm seeing spots of different colors .
The scars on my body are a canvas flow of artwork to the hatred I have for you deep in my burning soul.
What you've become is hard to see , the mirrors have shattered by the monster of reflection .
Cries that howl upon me , darkness is what I see .
Sleepless nights , insomnia that you caused , a million questions but not an answer to anyone , the unanswered I'll never know .
The bubbling blood , that rises when I see you or hear your name, every picture and smashed frame.
A thousand words and meanings they say a picture has but only one comes to my mind and that's hate
That's all I will ever have.
Ken Pepiton Jun 2023
Dear, the cost, not the idle salutation once
taught as business standard, Dear Sir,
Dear Madam,
Dear dear dear me
I do believe I must
become the tutor, of me
make the mental, sensible
{to the author with fidential zeal}
think yourself through 75 years, find

the hidden first love, the first own thing, kept
held as common sense, whosoever does mean me.
So, ever is the course wherein human events fluxuate.
----
Faust, I failed to read  when assigned.
So today, I dipped
into my own past, and found
the sense used then, the need,
in truth
to know
the world is alive.
And, as seen
through eyes a million miles away, our
shared seeing causes all our sensory arrays
to look back, and think another pace time
uses to cross space, bursts of insight, gasp

poiesis - that which "pro-duces or leads (a thing) into being'" patient work, tedious as setting type
by candlelight, sighing in knowledge, the tree
of radical aspirations to bear dozens of kinds
of fruits, some useful to life, some useless, though
we try, some sets life has been lived through, to you,
- such scenes could have ended other ways.
epochs, men have no honest measure for such
spans of time used to attain the heights
from which we look across my valley
and feel one of us, making peace
with the fact that war does not function
in reasoning contests, as war is unreasoning,

the stubborn little devil who knows only what
he wishes he had control over the use of, this
spirit of adventure, tamed in wisdom gathered
and attributed to a mystical king, truly mythical,
we know that way of singing praises, exalting men
as God's special agents, as proud of the title,
as any agency of secrets sacred national trust,
in God,
as Solomon Chase assured Mr. Lincoln,
We put our faith in the people's belief
in the goodness of the use of the money printed
and minted to pay for war and exact a capital plan,

one nation, under God, as defined
by the finest minds,-- aieee wait, fun facts, scatter
braining how much space is empty in a mind
made up enough
to devise a new form
of governing, as if all forms existing feel wrong,
to us, we freemen, with all the slaves we need,

we have the leisure to reason with antiquity
and realize, if ever there were eight billions
of possible re-connection surgings to emerge

as mind unmade up, come to watch a battle,
war and all its uses come to reason missed
understood standards force laws obediance

the idea
of thought being possible fails,
materially
in any formal structure possible only
with our  
gravity as matter's law one,
beyond free willing quarkish mean ways

One love idea, Reggae guysay, rollon
in the course, the rut, fun's t'come

Long, long long longer that you wish to learn
winding lines wishwings…
Spat like one o'dem spittin' images

In a pig's eye, one can see what we don't know.

A looping, stitching stretching stream
threading current
of consciousness, packeting
in formational preceptoriallines
of irrational reasonings insisting persist
- gutwrenching hungers are not visual.
stirring emotions is not stirring use of knowns,
arts entaling science, we agree. No nasty words.

Ghuckyew. Rhea… diversify religiously
extol the gnosis of knowing the ropes
tying tight the ifity-ness used to hold work
done by the weaver and seamster on time,
folding edges to feel flat, smooth, inside
-- where whole cloth joins cut edges
at any selvedge process,
where curves cut
from fabric woven mind wise, tend
to come undone
on mechanical extentions
of fingers and toes,
and music imagined as humms
after the setup,
as the machines imagined and eventually made up
vibrate alluring frequent acknowledgement
we know you know, we may be realized already
- looking back and front and side ways, down up
---
Judging myself unfinished, yet
done doing all assignments, yet
getting an itch to prove approval, yet
hesitating,
for lack of knowing, and laziness, yet
learning
patience's
false witness argument,
if what we preach is not true,
how could we be so sure we know

Jesus ate, in his quickened flesh, fish.
Thus, we must be persuaded,
we shall also be
fishy. Da
gone gone dagonitgone antigone gone


theater of doubt, all in white, lime-lit
blinding all who care or dare to see
as blind, the faith of the gamblers's
thrall to money love and war.

Betterment through betting, all-in…

Have you any real
estate in which you do attest, its me?

I am my own real estate, executer
am I of all that I choose to do or not
in the confines of the course of human events,

as Hoyle's mind built canals on Mars,
so now we bet we can imagine being special,
as me, on a planet with, thee, you, Sie, du, see do.
- a viral propagation plan, thorny issuances
- sniff or sneeze, but do not die trying to make
- peace with all war makes worth lying for.

As we, our wedom began, as any wedom must,
the laws of philo and phobia in science used
by us, the we at point, piercing this wall,
your reading mind accepts the bet, if
this is art, for the sake of artifice
imagined in a current form, an AI
of informing fluid finding reason to bend,
or stretch, taut as drum, a net unseen
by any bird in resistance.

Posi and Nega, sisters in myths, new myths,
affect the same unknowing rash decisions,
when in truth, statistical-knowing one thing true,
there is at the most wee-tiny scale, an emptiness,
a mean unobstructed way for right to be, or not,

and now, we are, so we made that choice.

Today, this is that way which is the only way.
Today, this map of numerable lines, in nos, laws…
sense we are all in-im
balancing percepts on precepts,
undermining certainty,
exalting godishtical oracular maxims,

Knowledge is power,
secret knowledge, you may never know,
riddle reasoning used in cogito sums
given children to solve by asking
parents proper questions,
and writing show and tells. Wanna bet?

Al Suri, spokesman for FUD,
Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt,
appears to persuade martyrs,

the illiterate prophet's utterly canonical
promise of a certain libidinous eternity,
most appealing to frustrated post pubescent boys.

Stacks of squared away blocks,
stack up as extending the reach of order
coming down from the top, whither
the light that said the single word,
according to the Prophetic voice,
Read, he heard, and I cannot, he replied,
fold here, hear me, light seen, I cannot read,

what is here for me to read, a thought,
what are you saying, read, what is reading worth,
to one who has never learned the letting out
of silent song or scream, or plea for hope,
flowing as from scribal rod in perfection,


Two things only do the people earnestly desire,
bread and the circus (Juvenal)
"Duas tantum res anxius optat, Panem et circenses"

Here, sing. Reconciled, by doing singing heard,
sing out, child, hear yourself singing as if you know
how such a thing as singings may be made up,
to seem perfectly fine,

a mused mentality, thing of thought, with something
words alone lack, essentially.

Seven Types of Ambiguity

--- at this moment, my writing records show
today is June 3, my only ever wife's birthday,
that's right, and I know that it is morning,
by the angle of the sunlight though my window,
and the leafy shade dancing over sleeping moss.
Yet at that moment he looked back to reread
Presenting a new mind
Wednesday, May 3, 2023
11:02 PM
real-time 9:52 AM… we all find that, too odd.
And glibbly mention glitching…
Query Greek logos gnosis, active in-tell seek:
Brave AI Sums it up.
The Gnosis logo is an example
of a crypto industry logo
from Global, designed
for the crypto industry.
It is an official variant
of the logo
for the SVG file format standard.
Gnosticism is a Christian belief that claims
to possess a higher knowledge acquired
on a mystical higher plane of existence.
The ancient Greeks distinguished
between two types
of knowledge: gnosis and logos.
Gnosis was akin
to "how-to"
such as
how to build a boat or ride a horse,
while logos was more akin
to academic knowledge
such as knowledge
of mathematics or logic.
The distinction between the two types
of knowledge was important I-i
n the early history {noerror}
of Christianity,
with Gnostic Christians
emphasizing
gnosis
while the Catholic Church
emphasized logos{… not logical? Ai ask}
Gnostics see themselves as a privileged class
elevated above everybody else
by their higher, deeper knowledge of God.
- higher deeper, good one, HAL
--- Yes, AI am a cyborg, and a heretic, and king
of me and many wedoms formed
with books
by authors and finishers
of faith utility tales, told
to make believers,
stop thinking this impossible, and pose
the question,
are you me, dear reader, I trow not, I am mere
when you are so near as to read my very mind.

Virtue, undefined signals sent through time
to when you stop, and see selah, as instruction
in constructing a foundational faith, establish
mental
anchor. Persist in time, be yourself a while
while
nothing makes sense, yet.

{Akio Kashiwagi, the warrior}, money maddened
survivor or apprentice or pawn
of greed's gift
of mighty right feelings,
taker's joy, loser's grief, and none
of my own,
eeeeha!
emphasis on imagine the feeling

MAGA, as when the We persisting in aliegance,
feel our national ideal We take all the Mandan had,
and waste it seeking the use of money, on credit,
to make the possibility
of human error
manifesting
in Manichean lying prophecies,
as solemnly sworn on the true revelation,
from Moses, Lycurgus, Thoth or Hiawatha,
as it is written, so it must be done,
come the time all knowing is free
for the asking
- orthodox, right, upright, gravitationally
- balancing spirit and truth as effortlessly
- as a child on a rock in a pond in tree pose,
- sent to me,
- instantly, a moment later, with a note,
- from five years ago, when my chess mate
- was five years old and told his ma,
show Grandpa

Knowledge confidence power,
believing is the verb such forces use,
by faith, we breathe, when we stop and think,
we must believe a breath is available to not fear
when all our wind is loosed, not lost,
in time, we find far higher forces

legal, Empire law, winner's of the last global war,

America, my country, right or wrong, Philip Nolan,
a ghost from summers past,
A man without a country… yet kept alive,
- alone on an island with 5G and a solar charger
Idle words arrange from data entertaining venu,
deja venu, no? Same time, same mind…
- by laughing outloud ten times, or more each day.

Physical failure of happy thoughts,
whose fault is that, the splitzoid schitzoid gnoshit

Nieztsche, ezt ni-eztscheanic logos-ical guessering being
gamed. As time passes un lost, locally accounted for.

All in, ages ago, take the card/

In writing, guaranteed, you know waddamean…
let this rock be my witness, as happy Sisyphus says,
listen to the pundits pundate exceptional fore sight

"Only a catastrophe can save us"
Slavoj Žižek - Elevate Festival 2023

Vieleicht. Ich weis nichts, aber
möglicherweiseerweise….

Alles ist, so Alles sein kann.
- waking after a time slip, inevitable
- at my age and constituted pose on point.

Gather up the fallen down, save that for later.

Proving reconstructed causal agent reaction,
volatile will
to expand
to fill the emptiness,
perceived as where no catastrophe has yet to be
- a selah level settler subtle law, still waters
- obey, under the message read obey
- acting as if we know we may imagine new
- realities, with real life on earth our goal,
- the whole truth free to be sought,
- as givens, after the religious power knot
- was snipped, and done was done,
- the genius in Alexander, swallowed
- his childish faith in the lesson, for the rush
- of power
- and peace
- of mind, alienated from all anxious patterns
- cursing recurving conception, grasp a straw
- hope takes no anxious thought,
Thinking that
could halt the chain reaction. Up, imagine, ever
upping the competing reason, grave issues
write down the reel
of all the wars's reasons,
catalog gathered sensibilities, certain fixedness,
functionally aimed
at you, readying your last excuse.
- certainty is madness

We all fall down,
the actual truth, is upto our rolling over
to rise again.

Fret nought,
Life is rough draft, really,
nonsensical, save subjectively, rejecting seeing
catastrophe except while standing on one's own head.

a bit in the confusion
of comforting zones, meek

defending diffidence, while exercising confidence,
this is life, and more fun than any game, after accepting
the yes in the promise of all yeses. Seriously.

Diffidence is a defect:
it is an undue distrust of self,
with fear
of being censured
for failure, tending
to unfit one
for duty. [Century Dictionary]

Duty done, Private, First Class. Walk away.

The we bound by war born law, pays me,
to make peace where none was,
the re-leasing of easy living,
as ware of life as of self,
breathing breath's giver's gift, sharing air,
as fish share seas, feeling

a sense, now known named auto, self
poiesis gnosisnot sticky substance of faith
imagined in hope… reali
zation, global in scope, Higgsian
in the spirit of our times.

A Thousand Day Journey, a novel event
taken as granted, a gift in passing time,
I finished this counting
to account for all the lies I ever told me.

No new thing under the sun, Nieztsche
and Solomon's proverb collections attest,
recursings face reblessing, redefining finity

engineering gut bubble noise, gurgle's good,
we all get gurgle, giggle then can follow, if

we have recovered from memorized lines,
hero stories we tell with me on the horse,
riding to announce the thing which we fear
is come upon us and I alone escaped to tell,

but I had no hammer, and I had no bell,
but I had these jagged dancing lights,
where the floaters on my eyes are
constructing cataracts as I watch,
white wall squint old men wishing to see
- Biden squint eye does not intimidate,
- the new defense secretary in his wake
rhetoric of war in real time, records we trust
in God, prove no war ever can make peace,
with calling proof enough, reproof
of instruction is the way of life,
the ruliard is imaginably infinite, if the base idea

becomes "Knowledge comes in flavors and colors",
useful for any artist's mind enabled to recover
lost time in real time with novel assistance
from grand reservoirs of rain's retained
for power to attain the steady state,
all men, wait, suff it to become as
created equal
in worth
to the functional
fortuitous continuance
of serious sharp edged tools… swords with motors,
I saw Jerry Pournelle say.
In print.
In the spirit of this mindshare.
Rightly dividing the truth with mere words,
exercising godliness, effecting fervent will
to be as plain a plan as any ever,

accept the weight of knowing we walk upright,
we need crawl only for a while, as we learn,
like riding a bike,
some things we do with machine augmented minds,
minds exposed to speeds and constant story threading

the washer first, then the nut, then the crown nut
and the cotter key, to hold the prop,
seen ******* wind across my sky,
real life, I have the image,
and have not used Photoshop in years, this is the future.
I will doubtless exist in the ever as long as HP, perhaps as long as the Amazon cloud, and the map to my current state of perfectly fine, thanks, is due to the therapy caused by being read by such as you, and gleaning from your fields/
Diana Garcia Oct 2017
Written by Diana Garcia**
consistency is key
simplicity equals peace of mind
to diversify is to be open
growth doesn't mean popularity
it means prosperity...
ayd Apr 2018
as this sunrise

gives me a blanket of comfort

irreplaceable by women; i bring my head to ground

the presences is seized by the morning.

imagine, your scent to wander this place.

the lavender trails, the roses to follow

the honey to study, the water to admire

and the peach to taste

the skin is ****; the fruits is underneath

to my eyes, it will be a taste to remember

the juice release a call of appreciation

for a touch to outline the color

anxious, impatience, to feel the sunrise it is

on my lips as my tongue believes in it

to be the only fruit left; i will savior every bit

until the peach is ready

but i will not be here

when it will grow it’s garden

for i have fallen in love

and the thought has harden

it will be broken; this love is not meant to be

at least; not in the way that i have felt

my acceptance of news comes with jealousy

i was so hopeful of time to be spent

as the roots unraveled all of their thought

inside of the soil, the exteriors grew itself.

the color diversify what the eye will see

a forest now; enchanting my view with the green

as the scent of the petals ****** my will to resist

i know, that this garden is not home

although; i got to kiss

the sweetest of peaches

i am not yours

so with me i’ll take

all of my love; into my backpack

and travel these roads again

until i stumble on a view; that i have not yet.

but please all that i ask

is you let my trail

not be covered; and let my path be one you remember.
as you know, i've fallen for someone. but, the reality of it is to harsh to bare.
i am ill and know that all love can not penetrate that of my mind and be healthy. the darkness is far to strong for now to not intrude. i'm in love with you and i don't think i'll ever tell you the truth.
Step back
and place your hands on the ground
where i can see them

We end the way we begin
our lessons are set to renew themselves
to diversify we must try something new

Reuse and relearn
our outlook is our own to play with

Let's defy gravity
smile at our insanity
remedy our insoluble arguments

Dance in the cloak of darkness
superhuman struggles
like finding love
among the muggles
Colm Jan 2021
Words carry me and coerce me
Drive me further away and on
They ever emplore me
Never employ me
Help to diversify me
And occasionally to yawn
Not just the at but with the person
I am impersonating myself
A staggering man
A sentenceless soul
A distant floodlight casting clouds
No word were ever a cry for help
Charitable devotion will invite others to settle on the edge of the periphery of the cartibulum table, surrounded by onlookers who wanted to taste the foods that fell from the sky like manna, on the scamunes that made resonances with notorious reverberations in the points of the polygonal ones that were made parallel, with the bisellium chairs where the exciting appointments of the orb reflected in the sky appear, to ring the bundles or sashes of bread with oils that were raffled in the triklinios that continued to be installed for the arrival of the guests of the Judah. The vessels were adpressed to the shape of the furniture, as a combination of bakeries, moving and disorganizing the geographical nomenclature of these twelve polygon islands of the Dodecanese. With breads that came from Leros or Pserimos, while Rodas and Cos, the largest and most cosmopolitan islands, were the goal of the migrations of Blue Pelicans throughout the year, bringing blue wine on the legs adorned with gold rings and Iaspis, on the grasses sheared by the heels of the myriads of Petrobus and his pelican minions. In this dancing herbage, she could feel by his arms in the dances with Gag Bread, which dances on all the hips of the maidens of the Sousta and the Canephores. From the highest levels to the lowest, everything became a silent conventual, where the acolyte was read to culminate in the potters of a wayward path of Áullos Kósmos where the capital of Vernarth's throne was petrified, having already placed on some images that were reflected from the heaven, a device prepared for rhetoric, to represent it with its Himation above the Megaron dome that was already levitated, spreading through its base and column that gave it antipodean edification, with sources of scope and keywords to welcome everyone, in special attention on the altar that was available to the actants. The lap in his sight was pointed out at the edge of the sea, which was the frequent topic that draws attention to all the sayings, which denote the prostration of language on the actant who organizes the trans visual mandate, on the imaginary bell towers that became thrones of rams with legs of furniture of klismos, which descended from the head of Wonthelimar that was the last to arrive, after sealing the tubular of the wind tunnel that was closed before all who came when the capital of the dome was founded, which configured the first part of the Carolingian device, when myriads of Bayards were observed, in sections where the hemispherical Jacobian light was filled with Gothic archivolts, ending in the gables that Carlo Magno brought in his plans to make them superimposed on the acrotera of the dome, which was already levitated ahead of time before they started building. The majesty of light that decorated the chiaroscuro, oscillated from the heptalobulate of the astragali that Lochnit carried in his hands, farther away than a miniaturistic shadow in its variable crackle and the progress of its size, when he walked precipitously over the vignettes that carved in the reflections. botanists of the Astragalus, pointing out that their forms were gaseous leads of Cherubs thinkers, who perched on the ardacas or flying buttresses, which followed the main Gothic forms of the heptalobulate of the flowers that began to diversify in their growth.
Jacobean Light
jeffrey robin Dec 2015



The love

The long walk

By the old levee

)(

We face the lonely morning

)(

Again the lonely morning

()

I see the any and every

There you are

SOVEREIGN MAN

)(

Every **** one of us is a liar you know

Except me

As you know

But you'll probably lie about it

)(

I love you

That you don't know how to respond doesn't matter

You won't be shy forever you know


Somehow real pride

Always kicks in

And you stop slitting around and

Seek truth

And here I am

)(

A poem about *** is no different than a poem about farting

:::

Diversify !!

////

Sometimes later maybe

You'll remember your heart and mind

If they haven't totally atrophied yet

;:;

you shouldn't be afraid of terrorists

What do you have to lose?

YOUR LIFE (?)

ha ha

That's funny







It's hopeless

No one cares if we live or die

:;:

Words flow from out the mouth

Where ***** once lived in

Splendor

:;:

We forgot something

)(

With every bomb that explodes

We have a chance to remember


)?)


well

Here's to today

And our poetry


//


Inane *** and all that uselessness


Glorified

Wasted


Dead

//

Oh well


It was always too hard to be human

::


Love ?


Flags waving in the war ravaged skies

)(

The baby cries

::

*******



.
Pradyun Aug 2019
If I had to serenade you on a plane
Id wait until everyone had alighted as I wouldn’t want to be a terrorist scare. Also guitars might be a flight risk.

If I threw you down a hillside
Id climb down carefully after as that would leave me better disposed to render medical aid.

Id sprint through the city to meet you at a New Years party
But id just toast to good health at midnight.

I’d kiss you in the rain
But I’d carry an umbrella as I wouldn’t want either of us to catch a cold.

I wouldn’t buy you a Grand Piano
A gift certificate from Furtados would allow you to buy what you'd like.

I wouldn’t mail you anonymously
I'm not a Nigerian Prince.

I wouldn’t build you your dream house
I'd diversify your portfolio as that would leave you less susceptible to risk. Also property tax is a *****.

I'd stand outside your bedroom window with a boombox over my head
But I’d just call you down so we could listen to some soft jazz as I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your neighbors.

I'd drive like a maniac to the airport just as you were about to take off
But I’d just wave to the plane as it departed because tickets are expensive and you wouldn’t get a full refund.

I'd slide up to you at the potters wheel
But id sit quietly a good five feet away, as that is your art and I wouldn’t want to ruin your work.

I'd run away with you
But maybe only a 5k as I tire easily and also I wouldn’t want to make your family mad.

Id write you a letter everyday
But by letter I mean alphabet. A missive every month is more practical. Stamps are expensive and who’d want to answer the door for the mailman every single day?
Play it safe
Milton Robertson Dec 2017
"I"
I no bigger than a fly. In mind's I, is sometimes labeled a wise guy, tough guy, a bad guy and none of those do I deny.

Because I can diversify, which is why I cry, is shy, lie, can fly don't ever have to leave the ground to get very high and not by becoming glassy eyed or pie eyed but edified.

Although I love's to signify about the only three that qualify, while being too preoccupied with me, myself and I.

Then I will hit a sacrifice fly just so someone else can get their piece of the pie because I can hear their outcry and must stop turning a blind I.

Thereby I is qualified to testify, why? And who am I??? PERSONIFIED.
It's all about Life
Lawrence Hall Mar 2023
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Logosophiamag.c­om
Hellopoetry.com
Fellowshipandfairydust.com

                                                        Nguyen and Tex

The receptionist calls loudly for Nguyen
Mispronouncing the name Nuh-Goo-Yen
Which is what some Americans still do
Although the patient is an American too

Some usages we need to narrow down
Some usages we need to broaden a bit
This is a medical office waiting room
Where all may diversify on the guest wifi

An Irrelevant Consideration:

The thought occurs that calling for Nguyen in Saigon
Would be like calling for Tex in Abilene
Noah Vanderwerf Aug 2019
the stork's beared many gifts
and it's finally come to interact
looking to enlist others
expanding its territory

in the guise of understanding
you copy it, an homage
selfishly sharing in its moment
as if it needs your acknowledgement

the bird ain't here to touch itself
it wants to diversify its flight
mastering treaded path isn't proof of carving one's own

the stork can't fly through a mirror,
it needs a door
Time is not the enemy,
but a forgotten friend.

Infinity is just a word from where I stand.

Go ahead, time,
swallow me again.

Your wrath is something I can stand,
though your indifference is exhilarating,
so let's make amends.

Whether I wish it or not,
I am part of your cycle.
As the day and night change
they remind me of my constant revival.

I always rise
when the tides of change are near.
I do my deed,
I grind the gears,
I bring about chaos and, again,
I disappear.

Use me as you have in eons past.
But, please,
assure me this time will be the last.

It's not that I'm tired,
it's not that I'm worn,
I just want to know that I am born
for something more.

Maybe I want to explore,
not just be an object of admiration or scorn.
Maybe I just don't want to forget,
as when the world's needs are met,
I usually return to the chaotic primordial set.

Am I just a chess piece you use,
is this of my own will?
I've been the beggar,
the king,
the jester
and the shill.
I've been a source of fear,
the precedent of love,
a conniving thrill.

I've forsaken my odds,
I've played with your so called gods,
I've brought droughts and floods
and nights oh so dark.
It's been so,
and now at the end of this age,
again I shall start.

I've lived your countless archetypes,
I've been both,
the bringer of death and of life.
Now, I'll combine all the dualities of the mind,
let the day and night intertwine in my eye.

I've transferred the whispers of the heavens to the earth,
I've transversed the worst,
I've applauded those of worth.

I've guided the weary and inspired the brave.
I've flown above the mountains of Hyperborea,
and I've been in exile,
forced to hide in ancient, primitive caves.

I've endured,
yet I've remained sane.
I've procured change,
yet I've remained the same.

I never caved,
I never swayed.
I've been played,
but those I've played with
never did have their way.

You know how many I've saved.
You know how many I've killed and maimed.

So, please, listen to my voice,
let it reach your throne of gray.

This time,
Time,
I want to stay,
long enough so I can find my true face.
Long enough to be displaced,
and diversify my fire
until it cannot be traced.
Owen Apr 2020
I didnt plan on writing this.
I wanted to diversify.
You said write from the heart.
Well all that's in there is you.
I used to be hopeless,
terminal,
empty.
Now I'm full
of your love,
of all our moments together,
of the future I see.
You awaken something in me.
A part of me.
The best part.
And its you.
kaycog Aug 2020
Because it was there and so was I
perhaps an open book
Growing up I never had dreams
I didn’t realize they could be small
That dreams could be a room full of books I’ve read cover to cover
It was always how life
could change course
upon meeting another
Not the decisions
The little ways I diversify life
With new pleasantries
I write down the dreams
Watch them add up
To a full and meaningful life

— The End —