"duplicating" poems
Onion,
luminous flask,
your beauty formed
petal by petal,
crystal scales expanded you
and in the secrecy of the dark earth
your belly grew round with dew.
Under the earth
the miracle
happened
and when your clumsy
green stem appeared,
and your leaves were born
like swords
in the garden,
the earth heaped up her power
showing your naked transparency,
and as the remote sea
in lifting the ******* of Aphrodite
duplicating the magnolia,
so did the earth
make you,
onion
clear as a planet
and destined
to shine,
constant constellation,
round rose of water,
upon
the table
of the poor.
You make us cry without hurting us.
I have praised everything that exists,
but to me, onion, you are
more beautiful than a bird
of dazzling feathers,
heavenly globe, platinum goblet,
unmoving dance
of the snowy anemone
and the fragrance of the earth lives
in your crystalline nature.
13.9k
[Intro: Honey *******
You ******* ******* stink
Go take a ******* shower
Schwag. Asian *******
[Verse 1: Honey *******
****** I ain't got time for a stupid broad
Cause bro I'm 'bout to beat a ***** and probably lose my job
**** I'm a bubble
Listen, ***** I tell you cool it off
Cause acting smart'll get you deaded
***** I rule the spot
Now, homie, I ain't ******* down to catch a charge, bro
Now her body found the same place she had parked, bro. (Whoops! [x3])
I forgot my ******* ride for me
Cause these ******* that drive for me
Are these ******* flying for free
I gain mine. There's a difference. You remember that
Cause I'm always hungry for the **** that I ain't never had
This here is baby food and be all like, ***** **** a snack! "
See ****** who said I'm crap is asking me to hit 'em back
***** **** that!
[Hook x2: Honey *******
Now, I ain't got time for ********
If I ain't getting mine, then that's ********
Why you all up in my face with this ********
Ew. ***** you smell like ********
[Verse 2: Honey *******
Oh, here I go. There they go in this here game again
Now these ******* praying they gon' never hear my name again
But look, I'm a stay around even although they acting like I can't
I don't sleep at all cause it'll always be my time again
That means I work hard, homie. I don't play around, dawg
Better cut this ******** or your face'll meet the ground, dawg
But after all, it's for the haters and the groupies, though
Find me at the studio
The smart ***** with a stupid flow
**** delivery. Got fans who in the dance
Now my enemies got plans
They just searching for a chance
**** friends cause I'm married to the music
***** cause I gained the world and die before I lose it
So cool it
[Hook x2: Honey *******
Now, I ain't got time for ********
If I ain't getting mine, then that's ********
Why you all up in my face with this ********
Ew. ***** you smell like ********
[Verse 3: Tyga]
***** back, back. Why your *** so flat?
Tell your best friend I want that
I don't pretend, ***** and I don't act
Why you all up in my chat?
Telling people that you know him
If I lend you all on my back
Criss-cross, you wiggedy-wack! (Aghh!)
Duplicating my racks
Introduce you to my life
Yeah, my gold heavy metal
You can't rock out on my level
Yeah, yeah. That's a red Ferarri
And I'm dancing with the devil
***** testing me, you get answers
**** a ***** quick fast, like cancer. (Aghh!)
(Well, well) Make a ***** rubbin money on my **** till it swell, swell
And ya money, money shorter than a elf, elf
And I keep cool J's like LL
(Hell yeah) I don; t wanna start nuttin' ***** lemme finish
All in a ***** net ***** mouth like a dentist
(Dennis) Rodman. Come on, come on
***** is you with it, with it?
Cause I ain't
[Hook x2: Honey *******
Now, I ain't got time for ********
If I ain't getting mine, then that's ********
Why you all up in my face with this ********
Ew. ***** you smell like ********
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
It’s 12:08 on a Saturday night and I can’t help but notice the stutter in your breaths
as the speedometer ticks 45,
50,
60.
The wind whips across the top of the open Jeep making both of our hair fly as you turn to look at me.
I looked up at the dull constellations in the sky
trying to avoid the stars I knew were in your eyes.
There’s a tickle on my leg and I look down to see your fingertips tracing tiny circles on the skin above my knee.
The pressure on my thigh gets tighter and I look up to see everything
swimming in your eyes mimicking the look you had when we used to talk ourselves in circles.
The car runs over the rumble strips forcing you to look away and quickly becoming my saving grace from the question I knew was coming:
what are you thinking?
Slowing down to 15 below the speed limit, swerving left and right
in a lame attempt to avoid the never ending *** holes on a back road I didn’t even know existed, we sat is silence.
It’s 12:43 as you put the car in park and say you want me
happy, say you’re ready to commit,
that you know things are different now but that’s not good enough reason to quit.
The full moon shines light on the black silhouette in front of me defining your messy hair, nervous look, and everything eyes.
I whisper I want you happy too, but your fear hasn’t died,
and that there’s nothing romantic about a joint suicide.
We’d crash and burn, get lost in our teenage addictions without caring who or what we hurt.
It’s 1:37 and you pull off again except I remember this spot from the summer after junior year.
Unlike now, it was warmer that night we were last here when the crickets echoed our conversations of love, loss, and regret.
With two simple clicks the headlights were off and the world around us seemed to stand still. I could hear your breathing
getting heavier and faster as you gently cradled my face in your hands
duplicating the night we earlier said that we regret.
Taking in your dimly lit face, you pull my forehead to yours as that song comes on talking about how we used to be so young and self assured.
I realized a rush like this doesn’t come from caffeine
because before I knew it,
you were all over me like we were back at 17.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
So busy so busy.
Getting mine getting yours
What's the sine of this?
Add 9 to that!
Wait. I'm too busy!!!
Busy busy busy.
There's a species said to be associated with this.
They'll bee forever remembered
For their to and fro and their
Back and forth.
But I'm too busy! Too busy to notice.
Bees. Bees. Bees.
Mind our own bees wax!
You're busy alright, busy being an anteater that's what! Hm.
Get your nose out my busyness!!
I'm just an ant. An ant. An ant.
Not a worker. Just an ant.
Busybodies.
Everywhere.
Multiplying.
Duplicating.
Keeping ****** busy.
I'm done. Being. Busy. With the. Business. Of. Busyness.
I can't take it. This Human Nature.
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 4:38 AM UTC
The multitude is flowing ahead
Teeming with dreams and hope
Crammed, with little place to move
There is dearth of space in the mind
Physically, we are reaching fatigue
What do we have for choice?
The power to choose is taken away
Our choices influenced by publicity
Duplicating a parallel world of feel good
Yet, deep down we are queasy
Something is not right, not identifiable
Blinded by the dazzles of show- biz
As if, all the actors are being directed
Chosen to play a role, not ours to choose
Memorizing written scripts, to deliver
Speeches which are not ours, we feel
Our dreams invaded, and manipulated
Our originality, suppressed in the makeup
Masquerading, our inner thoughts and ideas
Repeating the same role everyday
Delivering the scripted dialogues
Keeping in mind that we are here for audience
Our originality and individuality torn apart
Our original script has gone down the shredder
Who has the energy to pick up the pieces?
To join, the strewn dreams and live in a new way
We are just a created avatar, directed, indirectly
Of what we love, wear, eat, and live our life
Swept away by the waves of multitude
Individuality is relegated to the dark confines
Where can we start searching, our real counterpart?
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Laying low and waiting
in the grass, see the sky.
Light above is grating,
caught, perfect, in your eye.
How the moon guides you by
its untroubled movements.
Pristine, untouched, how thy
hand makes no improvements.
With the spear you’re weighting,
once again you will try
in the dirt translating
(caught, perfect, in your eye)
that unbroken line. Lie
that your own amusements
could hold that light. Each sly
hand makes no improvements.
While you stand hesitating,
I place your hand on mine.
“Look,” I say, “duplicating,
caught. Perfect, in your eye,
the moon reflected, spy.
Despite the light’s influence,
to your beauty, his high
hand makes no improvements.”
In vain we satisfy
our heart with our reply.
All of us are truants--
all of nature’s students.
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 2:54 PM UTC
Thousand thunderous tones continuously smash walls,
Shouts, the constant shouts of deafening pitch shriek.
Echoing vibes loudly quiver mimicking tyke calls,
Make living conditions unbearable here so too speak.
As passing hours swoop by, vision of pale white cheek
Creates an environment within endurable in a mind,
Still even now understands not why I left you behind.
Those memories, that we are thankfully blessed with,
Too simply close your eyes lie back and fly away.
All the recounts of stories, song and a ye' old myth
Held on a tip and flung just as quick the tongues sway,
Gently fluttering the air in a kind of a childish play.
Towards my god, I humbly give thanks so I thank.
Within my heart, all memories of you I gladly drank.
Prime flowers spray their scented aroma over green,
Whilst the honeybees hoard yellow buds of ambrosia.
Encircled by sweet tender winds and sun shines sheen,
Bathing light duplicating your lips of the genus rosa,
My lovin' breast heaves fondly with warmth of Jehovah.
Fading squalls diminish dreaming emphatically of you
Opportunistically implorin' to sweep up your essence hue.
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
Haven't wrote in a while my
words stutteringggggg.....
repeating the words
before that
duplicating expressive
alterations.
that sounded different!
A particular vibrant diversity,
worded, formulated..
effectively resonating, echoing
in the same flow that seems different
but cascading within contrasting similarity's..
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 6:09 PM UTC
Inheritor
Inheritor of life liver of Moment's
to Skipper of day,
of but who else only I I am and can speak for that man,
so then speak your matter’
I choose to skip this matter’/ click they're choose/ /click I'll skip.
Their choose /click
Skip again. /their choose/ click yes that's I and I'm looking for two man? ( two of the crowd yelled as if they must know the higher pitch voice ‘two man’.).
Then on a higher but feather ReSound one of the crowd duplicating the previous but louder ‘Two mann’ as if shock and disbelief. Now everyone gets it! /Click everyone now faces each other just like that /click I'm looking for a keeper and hold man, /click begin staring at each other just like that \click ‘SO'
/Click then just like that ‘hold /click I'm that man/ click great you're coming with me/ click I'm ready /click…….
Just like that click I'm the keeper man /click
You're coming to/ click I'm ready /click my brothers finally.
JOEY DIAZ
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
What have I done? What can I do?
One was a challenge, but now I have two!
My garret was lonely as I lived alone
Until Apple's Siri came to life on my phone.
When Siri moved in, Alexa was miffed.
Two personal assistants with a personal tiff!
While I talk to one, the other is scheming
to send every suit that I own to dry cleaning
If I ask for a song both join in the fray-
each plays different versions
for which I must pay.
They both ordered groceries duplicating each other.
My accounts overdrawn; I must borrow from mother.
Yesterday, really, was the last straw
Alexa sent Strippers to my boss's front door!
For Sanity's sake I'll unplug them manana
From here on I'm a one woman man
My Cortana.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:43 PM UTC
They will come.
And it'll you.
It'll hit you because its the 21st century, the reality of the modern world. You and them; them and everything that surrounds them.
Like a pedestrian attempt, the government system is all at cost about change and more change and brainwashing.
The in and out assests duplicating the excruciating mantel of dead lives and lives at stake.
You will walk half-asleep doing things you think are important.
Like a baptized child, to sanitize the dirt is even pious to the church, but they will come to you
and expect you to write about them; them and everything that surrounds them.
A column of pathological liars, OCD's, manic depressives, and a row of *** positives is the table of modernism.
But its fine, until 24/7 never stop wishing to 11:11.
Like a house is fine without a home, you will at least feel you're not alone.
They will offer a god - in high buildings, in the streets, in your neighborhood; a fine narcotic charm
that will mend your mood. And then they will come to you.
You and them; the faces, the ideologies, the tattoos, the smell, the drugs, the skin; they will insist you to write about them.
And it'll hit you.
They're disgustingly beautiful.
Way of thinking - sound,
tattoos - artsy,
scent - morning's dew,
drugs - crystal and *****
skin - cashmere of the richest kind.
Like faith, you are worm on bait in the modern world called 21st century.
They will come to you wanting you to write about them.
You and them; them and everything that surrounds them.
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 2:16 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
The dark is fragile to ones that haven't given their lives,
The ungrasp of something coming closer towards you,
Knowing your every move and duplicating your fears,
Seeing what is not there and scaring off any of your peers,
But somewhere,
Is where,
We all belong,
The holy Grail isolated from the world,
A place where you could be free,
See the beauty and conduct of freedom
All around you,
New friends, a new race,
A new salvation,
Where color isn't problem,
And cops don't beat on us when they want,
But so far,
We aren't too far,
From societies harsh ways,
The dark will not harm us,
The dark will not isolate us from our destinies,
To be one with our entities and make no more
frienemies,
Hoping it would last long as any Utopia does.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
These words, straight from my tumultuous soul. Another one with a hagridden, asphyxiating heart. 1---*-2 purblind eyes as injudicious as always. Even though airy for a change turned bovine, storming, screaming, it wants me blind. Gelid weather left behind, duplicating my touch from brisk to biting, killing the lie within your skin that was never on display.
Now...
Meaningless memories smothering the limbic system. Willthis be all that remain? Lets hang it up.
Now...
There's just another withering fire, burning the secrets. Will this be all that remain? Lets stab it deep.
Now...
Like a pernicious disease, dreams of the promised, made me blind. Will this be all that remain? Lets tear them out.
Now...
Like a metastatic infection, the pretense makes my skin numb. Will this be all that remain? Lets cut it open.
Now I'm calling 26280 and still you put me straight through to voice mail. I've had enough. I beg of you, please loosen the grip so I can renovate my fragmented life.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 1:35 AM UTC
My god doesn’t tear ribs from their nsfw relationship love . She tears the flesh from my bones. She doesn’t do it to create she does it to be selfish and to fatten herself, duplicating in my mind over and over like a tumor until nothing but herself is left. She straddles me with an unnamed sin, sinking her dull teeth in as brown and olive mix. Her voice booms into my ear, begging me to end her in a sorry attempt at being human. Her, my goddess, dressed as a succubus dragging out my sin as she strokes my ego. I turn to a golden
idol but she still shadows me for she is monumentous. We commit sin over and over again, and I... love it.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 10:41 AM UTC
As the language aids in communicating our similarities
Duplicating these unique isolated experiences
Detailing the nuance crevices in the porcelain blur
Moralizing Gods and reflecting design flaws
Finding a mortal prevalence
You attempt to un-speak your empathy
Cuffing your wild uncultured flares
Taking shade in poorly structured bravados
You drum your chest and imitate your father’s voice
Fear starts to take form, as intimacy starts to rust
You are not without love, it’s just peaceful in the void
You replay the conversations
nitpicking the words and intonations
Editing out your rogue sways
Caging the child between a rock and a hard place…
And you go “who says that”
You in your unrefined glory
Your cello-taped memory
You and your poor choice of words
You uncultured swine
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
started from the top
what are we doing at the bottom
still down
I don't think we'll find a way back
on repeat
duplicating the same problems
replicating our regrets
there's no redo
I don't know
mistakes like to follow us
stuffed inside a cloud
waiting fall again
collapse
I'm afraid
of
I'm so fearful of
this
right to wrong
feels the same
painting over the layers
I'm still under and below
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 9:35 AM UTC
To give away a child is the bravest thing a mother can do
for a better future and education too
but to waste the sacrifice of mothers decision is the worst thing a child could do
instead of going to class and completing the work
it gets thrown in the trash by going to parties and getting drunk
due to wanting to have some fun
Now is that being a good son?
It's selfish and disappointing at the same time, in fact, last time I checked being smart and attending classes is not a crime
but stealing money and duplicating your parent's keys is a felony
although you refuse to take a session of remedy
it wouldn’t hurt to sit down for an hour and reflect on the decisions you’ve been making
because it’s not my heart you're breaking
it’s the women who sacrificed you because she couldn’t provide a life worth living for
in the hope that her child wouldn’t put in a drawer
yet you did the opposite and many more
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC