"domains" poems
Her lips constant at the utterance
Of sweet and serene words filled
With adoration, praising him,
He who made endless hearts
do cartwheels and somersaults
Of multiple, millions nigh and far
their hearts loving
As long as he’s living
Nonetheless, changing courses
Of history was what she excelled
One glance, one encounter turned
Her lips managing
to do none but stutter
To his shielded heart
no one managed to flutter
His deer like eyes observing
With admiration, eyes sparkling
every look, crook, nook
Of her smile that shook
The worlds and heavens
Devout in his heart and mind
His earth's plates shifting
His massive planets orbiting
He witnessed it all in one being
The gravity of the universe on her
Shoulders heavy from responsibility
The heavens challenging her capability
Her hardships conveyed as she blinked
their dilated orbs communicating
language barriers unstoppable
To what her eyes held
He understood his needs
To care, to cherish, to love,
Feeling his heart pumping blood
Faster, quicker than light
Travelling the dark domains
Undiscovered, just like her soul
That he felt the need to explore
As his heart finally fluttered
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 2:46 AM UTC
The heart works for the hard work,
beating constantly as targets are acquired.
Shots fired, money wired and payments aplenty.
Contacts signed, terms and conditions defined,
it could take time, but the ***** rolling.
Touch base as we reach for the stars,
customers in charge, their business is ours.
We roll monthly, comfortably in our own domains,
renew them annually again as the pattern remains the same.
Some days, it's a struggle to get out of the pit,
feeling burnout, lack energy for my daily workout.
The wage ain't great but the dividends could add up to millions.
Some are cynical but I won't listen to those opinions.
I treat my staff as people not minions.
No need for incidents were a team of individuals.
Passionate and driven creatures,
hidden features and secret keepers.
Let's get money and lets get paid,
Theres a million ways we can earn more than the minimum wage.
Let's raise the bar, the city is ours and the worlds not too far away...
Dream tomorrow and live today.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Viking chiefs Valhalla bound,
at death, were not interred I've found.
On a fire ship they 'd place their chief
and cremate him per their belief.
Was it an obsequious grief
that gave rise to this strange belief?
For seafaring folk it scarce seems mete
to lose a captain, then burn the fleet.
With Dragon heads fixed fore and aft
Those ships brought terror, sword and shaft.
Irish Monks would think its fine
to burn one to the water line.
The ship of death was burning bright
as it sank within the fjord that night
carrying the Viking chiefs cremains
to his Viking gods' domains.
Was it conspicuous consumption
that drove the Vikings to this junction?
Perhaps after a life , ****** and gory,
they craved going out in a blaze of glory.
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 8:17 AM UTC
IT runs fluid between us and around
Rigid boxes can no longer contain it
the colour scale varies today
what is red is green anyway
The water in your eyes swirls like it does in mine
It drops out of the corners into our veins
ice seas leave unleading tracks
into treasured coves in our domains.
Its a touch of a finger tip and
not what they talk about in song
that pulled me into the air
that you breathed out
IT bursts and falls from trees
causing electric storms of desire
chasing the internal fires
that give us courage to dance in the thunder.
*Him and Her
Pulled towards both axis*
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:05 AM UTC
From the sea I bring you it's treasure's my love
the bounty I have is from Neptune's shallow domains
with his blessing I have a purse full of pearls
I will endeavour to find a merchant skilled
and he will make this adornment for me
proclaiming my undying love for you
I am your humble servant
with a purse full of pearls
to put around your slender neck
I have held all your letters to my heart
wishing year after year we would meet again
not just as lovers, but the best of friends
For I have travelled far and wide
with salt winds in my eyes
to give you a purse full of pearls
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
Well, Gypsy Guy would rather die than hunker down in chains,
be ridden south with bit in mouth, or heed the hold of reins.
The ruling lot are in a spot, the boss man he complains:
“The gypsies’ soul, I can’t control, my patience wears and wanes;
they will not cede to common greed, which conquers far domains
and furtive spies and news that lies have barely baked their brains.
“But in the court of last resort the final fix remains:
in boxcar bins with violins we’ll freight them out in trains
(should one ask why, a quick reply: ‘It’s that which God ordains!’),
and in the bogs, they’ll die like dogs, and everybody gains.”
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
take me to that shadowed place
past all the songs and tales untold
for none can ever see a trace
in domains dark where souls are sold
chill thoughts in solemn darkness tread
outside the sun’s beguiling spell
through barrens deep in mortal dread
of endless night and frozen hell
my voice lies mute in lifeless cold
where twilit lands may hide my face
beyond my youth and dreams of gold
conceal my wretched fall from grace
with stone and star I now will dwell
and grieve alone for words unsaid
leave bone and dust my fate to tell
weep silent tears that must be shed
Feb 6, 2023
Feb 6, 2023 at 10:35 PM UTC
when that hopefully ecofriendly R.I.P becomes my final home
whether bios urn
or spirit seed
or any trendy tree from corpse to copse,
from dust to leaves
or better than
a crematorial commode --for fresher air and fuel for brighter flames
transplanted into other selves
redressed in mushroom spore-suit
seeded with the genes of generations hence and past,
piercing veils to fruit above again,
a mycophile to the last--
i will have lived with growth in mind,
that firm amorphous
ground opining green
to kindly live and die in kind
foment another view,
encompass monumental evanesce
supernal tablets branching neo-dolmen ethernexusnets beyond the r00ts
barking technoshaman psychic rings about a fiberoptic rosey,
perhaps a sappier refrain for finer silica domains
to sing along and echo Dryads doting long ago,
in threaded tones the make-remaking fold
of earthenborn rekindled kin of stars
decided to invent to cater otherworldly themes
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
personification and retreat
I am here like I am here
like I am or have been here
overridden and steadfast
folded like wideswept domains
I broke walls I count splinters I pack light and swing heels I am broken most of the time and I kind of like it
it’s easy to construct
socket set memories
a forest of meaning sprouting up defining swan songs
and their resonant structures
crawl down the valley all sweet and serene
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
"The highest [theoretical physics] models are extremely general in their domains of application and, because of their generality, give little insight into actual behavior." ~Stephen Omohundro
:
Because humans think both linearly and non-linearly
there can be no ultimate pattern of
mathematics equations.
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 2:23 AM UTC
I would argue that what is happening here isn’t the crushing of creativity but the addition of knowledge. As people get more knowledgeable they are better able to evaluate their ideas and sift out the ones that won’t work. Looking at the quantity of ideas for the use of a paperclip tells you nothing about creativity but the quality of the ideas might.
If we want pupils to be good at problem solving we need to give them a lot of knowledge with which to solve problems. There is no generic problem solving short cut we can use. The problem solving skills of “I need to put up a bookcase but have lost the instructions” is very different from the problem solving skills of “We need to resolve the conflict in the Middle East.” I we spent less time trying to find these short cuts we might have a lot fewer wonky bookcases and a little more chance of peace.
I can’t speak for all subjects and contexts but in secondary school geography we are constantly problem solving. It is what Geographers do but each problem needs a wide body of very specific knowledge. We look at how they would solve the problem of the UK’s energy mix, how they would improve housing in informal settlements and yes, even how to solve the problems in the Middle East (if someone without a knowledge of catchment hydrology tries to pontificate on the issue I wouldn’t give them the time of day).
The same applies to “creativity”. The ability to create is an important and wonderful thing. Music, art and drama should play a full and important part in the curriculum but they aren’t about teaching something as generic as “creativity”. They are about teaching the skills to allow you to be creative in that particular domain. Learning to express your creativity in art is unlikely to help you pick up the trombone and learning how to write is unlikely to make your interpretive dance any less awkward.
If you think that these things can be taught as stand alone generic skills (I assume you there is a 54% chance you are) then please do send me a lesson plan because I would love to see how it is done.
Conclusion
I think the term “21st century skills” is a nonsense. The generic skills that people will need in this century will be the same as they have needed in all of them because they are the things that make us human. I don’t think they can be taught in isolation. I don’t think we get better at “problem solving” by solving problems in different domains or better at “creativity” in one domain by practicing another.
Schools play a role in preparing children for the future and that role is to ensure they leave us as knowledgeable and well informed adults.
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 1:05 PM UTC
1772
Let me not thirst with this Hock at my Lip,
Nor beg, with Domains in my Pocket—
1.4k
In Ocean’s wide domains,
Half buried in the sands,
Lie skeletons in chains,
With shackled feet and hands.
Beyond the fall of dews,
Deeper than plummet lies,
Float ships, with all their crews,
No more to sink nor rise.
There the black Slave-ship swims,
Freighted with human forms,
Whose fettered, fleshless limbs
Are not the sport of storms.
These are the bones of Slaves;
They gleam from the abyss;
They cry, from yawning waves,
“We are the Witnesses!”
Within Earth’s wide domains
Are markets for men’s lives;
Their necks are galled with chains,
Their wrists are cramped with gyves.
Dead bodies, that the kite
In deserts makes its prey;
Murders, that with affright
Scare school-boys from their play!
All evil thoughts and deeds;
Anger, and lust, and pride;
The foulest, rankest weeds,
That choke Life’s groaning tide!
These are the woes of Slaves;
They glare from the abyss;
They cry, from unknown graves,
“We are the Witnesses!”
1.5k
Walking a lonely road, stepping over the dry leaves;
Waiting for the sunset, to leave me alone with my thoughts;
Observing the reality is not simple, but feeling it is even harder;
This always follow a change, when u feel theory in real;
For every stand u took, for every right u did;
For every step you took back, for every voice that was suppressed;
A laughing comment may be the reason, or a smile or a ignorance;
Good’s became good joke, deeds became dramas;
Prophets preach love everyone, reality ends in loving ourselves;
No sorry no thanks, rude a person becomes without acknowledgements;
Follow your heart, stop taking free advices, ironical part we do;
Edison said 'value in disaster, start all over again', how hard it is to do;
Ideal is a word that has no practical example;
Even Mahatma Gandhi was only close to ideal;
Resistor to transistor, ideal behaviour has bookish domains;
And what a irony, even great of greatest are running towards this misconception;
Fooling someone is an upcoming talent;
Your last laugh, was it on a ***** act or someone loss??;
Listening advice is a harder job than firing suggestions;
Selfish is a attribute necessary to adopt;
Opening book on a regular day sometimes become crime;
Everyone pretends to be last day hero;
Hardly one dares to take a stand, for someone unknown, for public benefit;
Forgetting, one could be in same place;
Here conscience becomes a vital part;
Doing what it allows, or changing it accordingly;
Does varying conscience have a value? Choice enters in play;
Choice to be what you should be or what you are accepted to be;
Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 9:46 PM UTC
(1)
Every idiot is bound
to take life so seriously
and so Tsarevna Euna
saw the torment, the pretension
in all who surrounded her
and she could not smile
Many a fool in earnest faith came -
many a handsome man
who felt there was only one aim in life;
many a clown in grave intent and purpose
auditioned;
many an imbecile from all extremities;
many a thinker, many a philosopher
many a Prophet who said Heaven is Open
But all earnestness is Dumb and Weighty
like the **** of a hippo
and so Tsarevna Euna
saw the gravity
in all who surrounded her
and she could not smile
(2)
And she heard one day
in her lonely walk
in her gray, dry-withered garden
the mouse, the beetle and the catfish talk
of the man who gave away his every coin
of the only three coins he had in the world
And at last, the Tsarevna knew,
there was one indeed
who knew to treat the world light
(as when a leaf falls, and no one is ****** off )
and so she discarded her mournful looks
and she dismissed her father and the royal court
and she grew to be the Wisest Queen of All
and so it is sung to this day, in all those domains:
*The Princess who never smiled
she had a sudden insight
and she grew to be the Wisest Queen of All*
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
Dear Mr. Television,
There are poor air quality in national parks.
Californians are painting their lawns green.
A ****** Galactic pilot survived failed space mission for billionaire.
Santa Cruz lost an 8 year old and found her dead in a recycle bin.
Berkeley police in riot gear hunted a man with silver teeth for robbing laundromat.
Jamestown archaeologists found first American settler remains.
LA mayor second guessed Olympic games.
SF sign said "hold it!" to keep urination off public domains.
LA police handed out "quality of life" citations to homeless people.
Opinions urged citation clinics for the "service resistant".
Others said it's all in vain without any housing.
Mexico made Presidential candidate Donald Trump into piñata,
but the people have taken enough swing at him already.
Your pal,
Newspaper
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
The salty sweat of his chest
lingered on my lips,
so I tasted
pulled into the depths
of all his discovered
unknowns
my crevices of happy findings
warm tidings
delightful hidings
shut eyes, thoughtful, reliving
memories, flood of pleasure
losing control
I could smell his savage desire,
anticipation giving me chills
we find an everlasting truth
that even though
this distance will remain
we're bound through many domains
and no matter the end result
you and I
can't feel this real
from any other
s.q.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
All this lifeless air created from migrated diverted array
Shot from wasted uneventful deep rooted motionless fatigue
Squeezed beneath a realm of misguided beliefs
Things mixed and shattered, confused mistaken repeats
Dug from a soul that never eats
All this lifeless air was created by total dismay
From thoughts that creep without light often in the calmest state
Shaking the essence of what purgatory seeks to infiltrate
With masks that always intolerably penetrate
The gateway to a subtle overactive mind grenade
It hits like a brick, it comes out of nowhere
Breathtakingly taking you into its mystical embrace
To another space in a place where nothing feels the same
Only discombobulation and facades of an erratic charade
Leaving your thoughts confused and in an melancholic state
Calmness in your spirit is a lantern burned from the light inside you
It seeps from your pours and glows intensely within your core
Unmasking horrific ramifications that you justified in the past
Leaving your mind free to disseminate thoughts that usually trespass
Recognizing feelings can be often obsolete
The lurking and self loathing of being stuck in between
a domain of migrated air and empathetic domains
Dragging your lifeless air into migrated array
Only erratic melancholy conceives and births total dismay
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
There is never an end unless
You prepare it yourself
Stopping everything and leaving it
Or just bringing it to a short pause
To catch your breath
Boundless domains of elation
Bottomless pits of wonder
Endless roads of fascination
The cohesive bond we all share
Unspoken to some, unheard of by many
A unifying of all beings
The blood that binds us separates us
The spirit that connects us penetrates us
I hear it and sprint towards it
To help my fellow man
To listen, to hold, to share
To pick up, to give, to know
No matter the distance
Emotional or geographical
I will come
That I promise
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
The world might come to an end
but I will never bend
to attend the cell
ringing like damnation to hell.
This incessant ringing fills me with rage
like a tiger enslaved, enraged in cage.
'tis everything frightening
the evening's storm, thunder and lightening
pleasing silence no longer remains
grief, anger, frustration domains.
nerves rattle like a boiling kettle
knees weaken, heart's pounding fails to settle
deep breaths no longer help
words trapped and lumped.
fear, panic, dread
deprive me of the valor
to pick the call and end the terror.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 9:02 AM UTC
*Hey over there you gods of the earth and other planets
Your creature like I, a human mold suffices knowledge not,
As you mightly rove all over the sphere and share domains amongtst thyself
To reign over the whitenes, Jewry, negritude, sinotude plus yakeetude of mankind,
Enjoying your ethereally eyeview onto the earth at your creations,
Permit me to shoot up a guestion to you over there in your deitly realm
Be you jehova of the jews or amadioha of the igbos,god of the english or anything dogmatic,
What happened to your clay mud and tools pertinent in trade of human ****** creation,
So that you of late on umpteenth scale have created men who are women
And beautiful women who are aggressive mefolk and then ubuguitous earthwise ?
What has gone heywire with your human architecture ,when *** organs and feelings
Are center stage beckoning for their traditional orientation ?
Is homoeroticality your new creation technology ?
Or it is man recreating himself ?
Don’t you have enough clay ?
If material matters do you honourable deities
Come to Africa , chief Mugabe bob will guide you to copper-belts
Of chimurenga fields were clay is beyond any control,
In such quests you will go back to goldenly old
Human ****** creation topography
That will glorify your deitiness
In the old manner of hetereoeroticality.*
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
Bits and Bobbles
Gizmos and trinkets
Testtubes with creatures
Coming to life with my skill.
Magic and Science
My domains to command
Creating life, Cheating death
Manipulating the very fabric of the Universe.
Dark swirling matter and energy
Bending to my will.
Every thread and wave,
All under my understanding
Yet I pleadge these powers
To the man I love with all my heart.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
Who is to say,
we cannot break our bond with the earth,
that we are too strongly tethered?
Not I for one.
Nor stone age man who leaps to death in mimicry of the birds,
nor the prisoner who, in confinement,
looks to the sky,
framed with the walls wherein he lies,
and says to himself, or herself, nay, I cannot fly.
And could I fly, I would touch the earth again,
or else burn up in the stratosphere.
Nay, nor the wild fowl, who may traverse 100 miles at a stretch,
ere they return to the earth.
Nor ashes carried in the air and bourn away upon the trade winds.
Who would admit an eternal debt to the earth,
which by every step we repay?
Least of all them overcome with wonder,
at infinite depth, at scale, at cold beauty,
at the splendid simulacrum of the cosmos.
Who then would hold me back by a leg or an arm,
who would through envy deny a splendid assimilation with the vasty domains of the other,
for what word, what momentary vocalisation of the earthbound
can in all justice give it name?
But in good faith, commit my body to it,
and I shall move throughout the eternal regions,
and circle in infinite revelry.
Deny me not this wild vanity,
commit not my body to the earth,
and I shall not call you cur, who walks upon the earth,
and there for evermore is tethered.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
A simplistic paradox;
Infinitely finite and finitely infinite.
Now and Never,
Once and Forever.
Logical and Mythical
Real and Illusion.
Reality is all of these things
yet is it none
for these are but words
which oversimplify, by definition.
Reality is a state of mind.
Nothing can convey the true vividness of Reality
except the whole experience of Life itself.
Art tries and comes close
and is a sort of Temple in the Mind
to the once and always infinite;
the secular Divine.
Inexplicable and intelligible
Ineffable and described.
Secular and Holy
All and None.
There is a pattern here
of polarity as unity
of duality as singularity
of simplicity as complexity.
Humans make of simplicity, complexity
and of what's singular we divide.
Of a unity, we polarize.
There is a pattern here.
Reality and all it's subsequent domains
are both holographic and tangible.
It is a paradox of obvious nature,
with an obvious answer hidden by Mind.
It is what it is.
Live it as such.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC