"endear" poems
Even though I knew it from very start,
That there is someone who owns your heart;
Even if I see,you're not sitting next to me
I'm still hoping that someday you will be.
I cherished all the memories we shared in our school bus
Keeping them alive within my mind,like a big fuss
My heart keeps on yearning for you to be near me
"Why?" You asked me."I love you."I said simply.
I can no longer control this throbbing heart and mind,
All this love for you made me completely blind.
I can't see anybody but only you,my dear.
You say you like somebody,"Its me" I endear.
My heart silently cries the tears from deep within,
The pain won't stop aching but I just keep it in.
If only you can see the one loving you is me
I'll do anything for you,anything,just tell me.
Sometimes,I ask myself: How long will I survive?
With you there by his side,letting romance revive;
Whilst shattering my heart into tiny pieces once again,
Leaving me with only scars that forever will be in pain.
I've tried often to soothe myself with this one big fat lie,
That I'll be happy for you,just to see you smile.
These tears keep pouring down as fast as a river flow,
Since I can't believe myself for letting you just blow.
I've gone crazy,my dear,crazy over this one sided love,
But only you can cure this lovesick,I had just said above.
With all your heart,please share that love with me.
Save me.Love me.Save all your love,for only me.
--------Anonymous-------
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 3:03 PM UTC
I fear thyself
I fear attraction
I fear unfamiliarity
I fear attention
I fear incidence
I fear conversation
I fear interaction
I fear answers
I fear questions
I fear to tell my story
I fear to hear yours
I fear compliance
I fear conflict
I fear benevolence
I fear mutuality
I fear victimisation
I fear change
I fear to love
I fear to hate
I fear significance
I fear insignificance
I fear the lies we tell
I fear the truths we hide
I fear imprisonment
I fear freedom
I fear hope
I fear despair
I fear old age
I fear children
I fear intelligence
I fear ignorance
I fear to take
I fear to give
I fear to borrow
I fear to loan
I fear to exchange
I fear to teach
I fear to learn
I fear to laugh
I fear to cry
I fear to be
I fear not to be
I fear to be afraid
I fear to be brave
I fear to die
I fear to live
I fear discomfort
I fear responsibility
I fear to gain
I fear to lose
I fear victory
I fear defeat
I fear antrophy
I fear hypertrophy
I fear inertia
I fear activity
I fear obedience
I fear disobedience
I fear justice
I fear injustice
I fear totality
I fear poverty
I fear embarrassment
I fear addiction
I fear declamation
I fear guilt
I fear pride
I fear delusion
I fear unfulfillment
I fear my apathy
I fear to be wakeful
I fear to be tired
I fear my capabilities
I fear my incapabilities
I fear my dreams
I fear my nightmares
I fear women
I fear men
I fear being disabled
I fear misinterpretation
I fear misrepresentation
I fear altruism
I fear limitation
I fear to endear
I fear to inspire
I fear to forget
I fear to remember
I fear self doubt
I fear discrimination
I fear starvation
I fear migration
I fear fragility
I fear formality
I fear banality
I fear enticement
I fear cruelty
I fear judgement
I fear to embrace
I endure what I fear
I endure because I must
I endure myself because I fear
Endure thyself
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
Your serene lips could liquefy petals of a rose
With twigs on your spine
Consuming my dreams as you lure me
Stretching as the stars shine
Tangled in the ocean breeze
Beyond beautiful you steal my soul
Our hands unify in the shade of the unknown
Tonight we step beneath the flesh
As the path of dust disappears
I want to drink from your collar bone
Every crevice I will endear
Following the maze of your fantasy
Impeccable skin inviting me in
The anticipation intoxicates my desires
As I travel your outline I stiffen for you
Eager to gratify the valley of your liquid pearls
You whimper as I dissolve your engorged delicacy
As you spasm and tremble you ignite the evening air
A Magnetic exuberance of fervor swept over me
Our swollen, lustful lips surrender again
As your majestic heart nurtures our love
I famine to have your tongue renew me
Your quivering hands beginning to stimulate me
You brush against my hardness lightly
I stir inside my stomach
Restless and blazing I await
Teasing the tip my luster rises
As your manhood swims inside my mouth
You swell my peaks, passionate yet tender
You linger feeling my need
Slipping into your enticing throat
My fingers clutching your hips
Connecting with my core as I absorb you
I quiver and cry out loud
With handfuls of starlight and luster
We create a haven just for us
You enter me so carefully
As we wither and blend
Our flesh is stamped together
A serene ambiance is swaying with us
As you whisper and writhe beneath me
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
For Beauty's Maiden Name he can Compose
And hope that your Legacy will ever Live
This Shimmering Petal which he dares Un-Fold
Will by Clock's End endear with your Harmony.
Why in the Fifth Summer Month we Praise the Womb
Responsible for the Songs we hear Today
Whilst the Toll's Hand turns from Cradle to Tomb
Your Best Song can chant the Goblins away
And perhaps if I try to Improve my Lot
Then avoid the ****** Record of Defeat
He is your Story; This I almost Forgot
And the Name once-spoken will again Repeat.
With this I Commit, Beauty's Maiden Name
Your Feathers un-changing; Your Spirit Remain.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
Look at the beauty in her eyes,
a glow that shines like the sunrise.
Her smile opens up the cloudy skies,
her laughter delights butterflies.
The ocean greets her as she passes by.
Her gorgeous toes leave their mark, saying goodbye.
Gentle breeze through her hair,
she walks elegantly while astonished eyes all stare.
Rosy cheeks cover her face.
A flower-child blossoms, kindly accepting embrace.
She is a thorn-less rose without compare.
She is the love my heart will forever endear.
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC
Dear Santa
all i want for Christmas is a penny lover
a women that enjoys the small things in life
the lincolns instead of the benjamins
thrift instead of trendy
peanut butter instead of steak
my bottom shelf written poems instead of polish
the small things in life, Santa
the small things
is that too much to ask for
your gift to me
sans the star spangled spangled
the fireworks
the silver, glitter and confetti
i would endear
can you help me Santa
i dream
i dream real
a simple snowfall
me with her on the bunny trail
doing the bunny hop
later sharing a hot cocoa
borrowing heat, and time
Santa in my dream
i can see my mirror
a pincher
a thinker
wrapped pretty
maybe in ancient ski gear and attire
but together
and maybe in love
santa, in retrospect
i ask for a lot
because my heart would be filled
Merry Christmas
Logan Robertson
12/3/17
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Everywhere
She's in every crossword
She haunts the radio
she's in my mind, memories blurred
Cant help but chase her shadow
I feel my heart still palpitate
With just the utterance of her name
All my life , to her , I'd gravitate
For no one else, i feel the same
She's in the stars, for each an ode
Under the moon I'd weep
I think of all the " I love you's " told
And I cry myself to sleep
She's in every, unoccupied thought
I can't help but to endear
But despite all this, its all for naught
Because she's everywhere, but here .
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
my polygamous relationship with you distances me from the monotony of monogamy and makes me feel lonelier than the loneliest mundane monogamist. my mere apologies for my misendeavors, the malnutritious morals of my miseducation propose metal mirrors and castaways controlled by cutting carvers, craving crazy letters and loyalty from lengthy lies and lonely lives. lethargy overtakes and vowels reign, raining drops like rainbows and rocks in rivers, rusting relationships, rusty railroads at intense intersections entwined in everything inside and nothing on the outside anymore except these
muscles. we are back at the beginning.
my mind marvels in the magic of the memories, the madness of the morbidity and the hesitations of your reaction. his, I take, is misunderstood as my misfortune, but it is not a miss, my fortune: it is a fox in feathers colorful like friendships 'fore their forfeited and feigned approval, forced for fear of polygamy tho' it promises the purest pleasure, the most personal independence and precious pearls of princes, princesses, powerful, plight-less
poetry. peace surrenders,
souls surprise themselves, surprise their cells, call for curious catastrophes to take place. colorful and calm they coincide with cooperation that can not contain the context of truth, of teases, of teasers and targets and tonal dualities and we endeavor, we endear you, we dare destroy the darkness of the devil in its disguised diamonds.
words lie at my feet like pebbles of poetry and I promise personal demise, deterioration and ridiculous obsessions- there's madness to be had and fragments to be written and I play with silly alliteration instead!
serious and serene you stare as if my sanity has slowly faded and I sternly helplessly smile shyly. I suppose you are sincerely offering me your blessing before parting, so stumbling slightly I surrender…
if this is the prevailing promise of mere mortality, I'm graciously aware I was worthy of words.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
I have friends with whom I share,
great poetry and verse.
And friends I visit taverns with,
to drink with and to curse.
And friends with who I share a passion,
for music and for art.
And also those, just like me,
kindred spirits of the heart.
Some, I will call, when I am down,
and weary from lifes' run.
Some, I long to just gift a smile,
before every day is done.
Some, who seem to need my presence ,
to heal such a simple pain,
Some whose smiles touch my soul,
and shelter me from rain.
Some who like the same wine as me,
some coffee and some books.
Some who care little of possessions,
some who are all into looks.
There are some with whom I share a movie,
some I respect their great advice.
There are some who are simply pure genius,
and others; .... not quite so wise.
From professions, they all do differ,
no occupation is the same.
Most of them have no mutual liking,
but two...they share a name.
No. Each friend, has naught the others',
unique fortune, skills, or fame.
But I endear each to their own,
and treasure them all - the same.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 12:30 PM UTC
my mist expires in your atmosphere
linen sheets adhere
around my throat, no fear
smell pheromones in the air
it's crystal clear, my dear
i am amiss without you near
self-controlled
white-knuckle hold
now conquered
cold and longing to spy a songbird
if only for a single moment
and nothing longer
i am somber but mighty fond of her
strong enough to say it still
and stronger now to do
smart enough to ponder it here
but dumb enough to squander it too
red hearts are lies
beating blood flows blue
it is true, did you hear?
i'm amiss without you near
i thought we were musketeers
turns out you're the puppeteer
pulling my strings, was as I feared
another way to ingratiate and endear
while I'm tied here waiting to hear a footstep
to take the next step
another level for this intimate project
but from this aspect with all due disrespect
you subject me to intense neglect
you're a ****** architect speaking scintillating dialects
only I can connect but I am a bad girl... so I guess I deserve it
my favorite show now that you mention
is when you are standing at attention
you brighten your eyes and your voice changes inflection
my indiscretion becomes your intention
but I digress, and bite through, throughout this blissful rendezvous
as we float like a feather into the bedroom together
past dawn until noon
it must be true
i am amiss without you
Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 11:16 AM UTC
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden ****
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."
3k
283
A Mien to move a Queen—
Half Child—Half Heroine—
An Orleans in the Eye
That puts its manner by
For humbler Company
When none are near
Even a Tear—
Its frequent Visitor—
A Bonnet like a Duke—
And yet a Wren’s Peruke
Were not so shy
Of Goer by—
And Hands—so slight—
They would elate a Sprite
With Merriment—
A Voice that Alters—Low
And on the Ear can go
Like Let of Snow—
Or shift supreme—
As tone of Realm
On Subjects Diadem—
Too small—to fear—
Too distant—to endear—
And so Men Compromise
And just—revere—
2.6k
313
I should have been too glad, I see—
Too lifted—for the scant degree
Of Life’s penurious Round—
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference—have blamed—
The homelier time behind.
I should have been too saved—I see—
Too rescued—Fear too dim to me
That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect—yesterday—
That Scalding One—Sabachthani—
Recited fluent—here—
Earth would have been too much—I see—
And Heaven—not enough for me—
I should have had the Joy
Without the Fear—to justify—
The Palm—without the Calvary—
So Savior—Crucify—
Defeat—whets Victory—they say—
The Reefs—in old Gethsemane—
Endear the Coast—beyond!
’Tis Beggars—Banquets—can define—
’Tis Parching—vitalizes Wine—
“Faith” bleats—to understand!
2.5k
Flower flower, on your stem,
Do you not worry less and less,
What you’ll be, like one of them?
Flower flower, in the wind,
Take my heart, take me in.
I’ve wanted nothing else since.
Flower flower, how you bloom!
You shine so brightly just to be in a room.
Time controls when fate is too soon.
Flower flower, where do you live?
You’re stolen of pedals and yet you still live,
Hoping there’s more you can happily give.
Flower flower, in the grass,
Are you not crying, are you not sad?
I’m already used to it with all I’ve had.
Flower flower, show me your face,
I want to be you, I want to have grace.
So I will always have the words to say.
Flower flower, please open up,
Show us your pedals, show us your love.
There’s no reason why you shouldn’t reach for the sun.
Flower flower, hold your ground,
Don’t be alarmed when you hear the sound,
Of others mocking and playing around.
Flower flower, release your scent,
Let us know you and no longer guess,
Of your colors, shape, or past.
Flower flower, tell me your fears.
I will listen to you whenever you’re near,
And hear your voice when you fail to endear.
Flower flower, show me how.
Do they not hurt, do they not gouge?
You were tried and forsaken, yet you make no sound.
Flower flower, hear my cry.
You’ve heard so many others so why not mine?
Seems all there is to do in life is die.
Flower flower, I beg you, don’t fade.
Choose to keep on, choose to stay.
Before the wolves devour my last words I’ve always wanted to say.
Flower flower, forgive my actions.
I faded away along with the ashes,
Holding the fire, holding the rashes.
Flower flower, I can explain.
I’m so desperate to say what I’ve always to say,
Waiting for that one miraculous day.
Flower flower, I made a mistake.
I know I’ll remember it all the way to my grave.
I’ve told you nothing, so don’t bother saying what you’ll say.
Flower flower, it’s not your fault.
You were never aware of this pain as I walked through the halls.
I kept my head held high, kept my shoulders tall.
Flower flower, where will you be,
When I’m buried and no longer can see?
Guess you were the person and I was the deed.
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 10:09 PM UTC
Life is a pantomime
light hearted and plain.
It's behind you they shout
but it's all part of the game.
The villain is booed
by the on-looking crowd
but there is nobody there
when you decide to turn round.
You think that you know,
you think you will solve,
but the answers are gone
when at last you revolve.
Is it the king?
Or perhaps that old aunt?
Who's got two ugly daughters
who would tear you apart.
The boy with the buttons,
is he evil or good?
Or is it that carved out puppet
with that long nose of wood?
Who is the goody?
Who is it best to know?
Well we really can't say
till the end of the show.
Life is no pantomime
not so light hearted and plain.
Full of caring and good
but also vile and insane.
No one shouts he's behind you.
Villains do not get booed.
You cannot always see them
as you're plied and you're wooed.
They are not always ugly.
they may never seem nauseous
so the only advice here
is to always be cautious.
Trust takes time to endear.
Trust is something to earn.
Trust is something that you need
very quickly to learn.
Never hand it to quickly
to anyone in the line
cause we all need to realise,
life is no pantomime.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
1083
We learn it in Retreating
How vast an one
Was recently among us—
A Perished Sun
Endear in the departure
How doubly more
Than all the Golden presence
It was—before—
2k
Through all this strife
We create life
It's not wrong or right
It's humanity's plight
Whether it's with a wife
Or a stranger
We create life
Despite danger
There is a new addition
He could end repetition
Of negative patterns
And social ladders
But there is a competition
Between the new editions
Of positive versus negative
He'll be the one ahead of it
In a world plagued with stabbings
By the greedy money grabbing
Not to mention the beastly bombings
That endear retribution wronging
And elusive peace longing
There is a birth
Amongst death
That makes it worth
That first breath
Which provides hope in promise and potential
When they could be the positive differential
That could change this planet
And the hearts made of granite
We are born screaming
And never stop
We find ways of teaming
To be cops
Imposing our will on others
Through fascist force
There are many ways to cover
How this ruins discourse
But I sense a new sheriff in town
Our old ways he'll bury in the ground
He might be one or two now
But he'll change the world and I don't know how
For he brings hope
To a world with none
He helps me cope
A compassionate son
He'll make the world brighter
By not being a fighter
In a world of strife
He'll create life
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 2:47 AM UTC
1424
The Gentian has a parched Corolla—
Like azure dried
’Tis Nature’s buoyant juices
Beatified—
Without a vaunt or sheen
As casual as Rain
And as benign—
When most is part—it comes—
Nor isolate it seems
Its Bond its Friend—
To fill its Fringed career
And aid an aged Year
Abundant end—
Its lot—were it forgot—
This Truth endear—
Fidelity is gain
Creation is o’er—
2k
Do I love you?
Do I,
Love...?
The words have stopped
doubled over on themselves
in pain
unrecognized
In truth
I wouldn't know--
you, Love?
But maybe from a picture
thinking--
"This is from where the poems come?"
Having never searched your eyes
with mine
nor heard your voice
invoke me
Known your thinking
in any given moment
Nor you, mine
Nor watched your hands
for hints
endear
affection
in expressions
Could you forgive my mess of moments?
the lame that years have left
so slow circles
the lonely artless?
socially inept
I fear
you could not forgive the fear
for so long
left behind
How can you say
you love me?
By what assurance do you
Speak into my void
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 10:30 AM UTC
I see you
You lurk beneath the skin
Razor teeth shining through otherwise empty words
I see you in the malice
In the anger and confusion
Contorting the human mask you wear
I see you in the hatred
Growing stronger
As together you learn to hate yourself
Each passing moment you are brighter
Your host duller
Although you hide it well
And I am afraid
Afraid that one day
I will see you
And you see me
In a mirrors reflection
That one day you will ravage my mind
Tear away all knowledge and perception
That I endear
As I burn my loved ones
With your bitter tongue
And slowly forget them entirely
Until I become you
And then can no longer see you
As now i have seen you
Take another's skin
Remove him from his family
Take his pride, his mind
His love for all
And isolate us
In our islands of fear
Frozen, we can do nothing at all
I realise that there is no happy ending
There is no way back now
I always thought there were second chances
But he is leaving us, painful piece by piece
So fast, yet slow
It's unbearable
For now I have seen you
And I can never forget
The look in your eyes
The words you've said
I see the void
I see living death
And at least for now
You cannot see me yet
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle
did waft on the air
twas a bouquet of beauty
for the lovers to share
they strolled
amid the scent
as eve drew near
and spoke of their love
which would forever endear
neath the moonlight
they caressed
in the honeysuckle's
loveliness
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
Sí. You do.
When You . . .
Pour me your 'cuppa'.
I taste your morning.
Text me your emoji.
I know your expression.
Spout out your wit.
I laugh out loud.
Show me what you see.
I behold your clear view.
Awash me in your color.
I'm ablazed by your vibrance.
Throw me your smile.
I throw one back.
Send me your music.
I feel your mood.
Choose your words deliberately.
I absorb your meaning.
Share your day.
I simply smile.
Take me with you.
I see your world.
Ask me to 'Please S'Plain.
I value your sweet inquiry.
Seek to understand.
I feel worth.
Kinda like our bubble.
I breathe more air.
Fall for the make-believe.
I fall for it too.
Just sayin the truth.
I admire your honesty.
Reply with warm understanding.
I adore your sweetness.
Share your insight.
I de-code.... reflect.
Breathe with inspiration.
I feel alive.
Send me your portrait.
I stop and stare.
Unveil your expressions in Face Time.
I'm drawn to touch the screen.
Show your sweet vulnerability.
I admire your courage.
Speak your true voice.
I know your choice.
Respond with Yeah! & Yah!
I feel your shine.
Feel like falling.
I hold you.
Share your fear and pain.
I help you to regain.
Tip toe with ambivalence.
I hesitate and wait.
Say 'What are we doing here?'
I doubt. I wait... I wait...
Take 1 step in, 1 step out.
I ponder poetry to pull you in.
Shuffle in and out of the room.
My heart rises and falls each time.
Promote healthy boundaries.
I respect them.
Throw me your x.
I feel your affection.
x softly and slowly
I smile and blush.
Risk your heart.
I trust (again).
Reveal your pure humaneness.
I endear to you.
Touch me.
I dissolve.
Brush my cheek.
My breath slows.
Kiss my chin.
My self opens.
Breathe me in.
I take you in.
Reveal your true presence.
I understand your existence.
Adore my presence in your life.
I adore your presence in my life.
(c2j2c)
ps.
C
Our fleeting moments in this bubble shimmer.
These subliminal and true moments we share.
I see hints of your presence and scribble them on paper.
These words of your essence exists with me in here.
J
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
O! How I long endear myself
to thee,
in the urgency of my desire
to yield to the mercy
of this faithful destiny!
As soon I am about to commence
my new course of journey,
embracing the heath on the hills
and the dark of the mills
looking for wholehearted sincerity,
healing my long-lost gaiety,
prudence, and generosity!
O subtle, yet perilous gaiety that
was ignored by such disparagement,
and its fabulous tenacity!
Ardent, merciless tenacity!
That but shan't befriend the course
of thy adultery, yet praise thy ignominy
and infamy in an adorable, inherent manner!
But never forget that the entire breadth
of this journey
I devote to thee:
in order that thee would become my love,
my soul, and all the healthy demeanour beneath;
thou hath my life, kisses, and
the sacred secrets of my fiery health.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
**** you and your little intelligentsia
group therapy sessions
basing its roots in caveman cartesian
theoretic - i know you know that
the blank canvas are the ********
and that artists work on that -
because normally grey citizens are no
blank canvas but a subordination -
but still, **** you, why not concentrate
on the blank economics of a beggar
to exercise your little intelligentsia
get-together sessions?
there are less social securities in that
department of inquiry -
mental health and art... what's that?
you jealous of the caverns of the mind
crafting an escape pod to your
****** exercise of mechanisation -
**** on me, crosswords! su doku!
all matters of encryption!
endear your lack of creativity with
the synonymousness act of creativity
decoding encryption,
because you obviously can't encrypt
on a complete lack of encoding parameters (blanks).
you can't encrypt originality unless
you start with encrypting nothingness
with stars... and how often does that happen?
perhaps once... i care to make you
feel something akin to bombastic,
a football stadium size of appreciation lost -
skull kickabout with commentary:
to create the post-relativity warp
of quantity-quality, akin to space-time,
for indeed the answer to science's
space-time hyphenated couplet
is quantity-quality - and that's hardly a measurable
consideration, since there are too many particulars
involved, i.e. too many individuals, choices
and disparaging wills - too many particulars
in the hyphenated couplet quantity-quality,
since science is offering universal breadcrumbs
with its space-time rationalisation
for each and every for a share in populating
an insignificance, whether on a personal
scale or an impersonal / collective scale -
and both are indeed expressed,
the famous parasitical comparison found
in too many numbered essays by individuals -
but still humanism has a quantity-quality parabola,
while science has its space-time parabola,
and indeed both in dip, provide waves,
for example the former with Plato and Neoplatonism,
and for example the latter with
the revisionists of Einstein - the revisionist excavators
arguing precision to 100% proof of measurement
in exponential scaling of the mind theorising
a bus trip to Saturn like a bus-trip parallel-akin
to a 1 mile trip on the same vehicle in the earthly atmosphere.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 8:40 PM UTC
I don’t call you crumpet
I doubt you taste very good.
But you fit the name strumpet
Like I was sure you would.
A better name would be porcupine
The pork part fits you so much
But it would be so very awful;
You’re a thing I’d hate to touch.
I’d call your crew a clown car,
But, while you are surely on wheels.
You are more of a slow train wreck
Based on the looks and the feel.
Some fools call you Robin Hood
But I reject that whole twisted pitch.
Robin Hood did not rob the poor
Just so he could give to the rich.
You think you’re a smart cookie
But, you are nothing but a crumb.
You think we are all of us stupid
But only your supporters that are dumb.
You’re a ****** cake that has fallen
With a poisonous coat of frosting.
You are not worth a penny of what
A disaster like you are is costing.
You leave a nasty taste in the mouth
Of those who have to be near you.
There is nothing about you at all
That would serve to endear you.
It really would nice if you would go
Live for decades in a prison cell.
That color of orange, for once
Would suit you so very well.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 12:09 AM UTC