"equaling" poems
Eternity is closed !
- come back another day with
flower smears for eyes and sincere
passion on your
palms (weathered)
I need another Russian Doll -
Princess to frequent curtains
fashioned from fire & lead
equaling out to crimson folds
which mysteriously call to
the mystical hierarchies of
imagination
Silent requirements signal beneath the steps
which welcome
one (a stranger/
an Ibis-Beak cane & dark coat
stamped with August rain)
They arrive unexpectedly, as if to play the game
of cliches, they carry promises fashioned in foreign ports
tapping my knee
instead of my shoulder
having only known or recognized
entombment
(there is no hyperbole which lacks within
Nature's haunted heavens)
My strange visitor leaves / glass umbrella
in hand / to privacy / our brief interaction begins & ends with simple eager undertakings implemented
in the afterword
What is in another's contemplation of me?
whiling in manifest Theosophy -
- Thought form -
Primal child-rage / whisp of violet smoke &
inksplotches abolished, mutually panting.
Our decorated
four-legged hunter
has arisen and impatiently
craves for the Earth to partner at last with
the Sun
..The Sun a blazing dime
I can smell crispness
in the air
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
Does every moment of pleasure,
Have to be reduced an equal amount of pain?
One can be lulled into this false notion
If they choose
Nature dictates no!
Pleasure exists as a reward
While pain signifies damage
I prefer
Seeking the elusive happy medium
A true balance
An unquantifiable flux,
Never equaling the same value
From one moment in time
To the next
Inner peace
Like a circle
It never ends
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Popularity
This is something tht I didn't have to have
I guess u can say I'm a victim of my swag
And whts tht u ask well thts my personality
The qualities and characteristics tht makes me
Anywhere I go I leave w/ at least one friend
Humor w/ a little sarcasm who can contend
The key to this is to stay ahead of the next man
See things happen before they happen w/o pretend
Which means u have to keep it real
Be ready for wht ever but still remain chill
Add all these factors up and thts not even a quarter of me
Even tho I'm giving u the blueprint equaling me is something u will never be
You see people wait to see wht I'm going to wear
Which makes it hard not to notice when people stare
But I don't care cause I give people inspiration
The females sweating me w/o the perspiration
And it's amazing how some women hang on ur every word
No matter how rude, obnoxious or absurd U will still be heard
I mean in all actuality a **** is wht they want
Y'all embrace them inconsiderate ******* types ladies don't front
But on the inside to project this persona brings about alot of pressure
With ur preconceived notion of who I am w/me left to measure
So u can actually say tht I'm being me for you
Even though u believe all my qualities to be unique and true
Because to be honest u put me before you
In an attempt to negate your own low self esteem
Whether it be an acquaintance or a small association You make it bigger than it seems
Placing me in undeserved high regards
Feeling tht I possess the best hand when you hold the trump card
You see this is just a brief look at the other side of the fence
And even though it may be hard for me to convince
It because of ur interest tht my popularity exist
By: @mr_p3rs0nality
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 5:02 PM UTC
season's come and go
my yin yang remains constant
through rain and sun
through death and life
the compass remains fixed
frozen in place
searching for a horizon whose existence is uncertain
my famine and abundance
once leveled the scale
now my famine is overwhelming
like drowning but not able to die
but forced to relive the process of death repeatedly
plagued by the natural need for love
it cannot be removed, destroyed, ignored or exchanged
left unattended it grows desperate equaling to enslavement
still sea worthy i follow my compass
hoping for the storm to end and the shore to appear
i no longer wish for the treasure just the glow of land
a dream
a wish
a star that dies in the black sky
unknown, lost among the billions and billions
never to be remembered
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
Conscious how below self awareness motives can be.
Subconscious no matter the state.
The density remains linear; all drawn in pen
to attend to these feuding desciples
of being “super” and the instinctive relliance on idioms,
of actions portrayed further than words,
finding balance on this epicenter
of egocentric dreams coined all along the same metaphor.
Sides- to what ever shape of form of the matter ,
linear at point we all eventually
dive/urge finding another
point above or below
convergence in light
to change focus in volume/mass
equaling (1)ndividuality / decreasing the density of situations
Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 10:54 AM UTC
he sat bedside with his great grandmother
stroking a hand laced with what he saw as
tiny blue rivers, flowing from a thin wrist
dammed by ancient knuckles
boulders chiseled by eighty-four years
he read from his book while Mommy
dozed in the chair, and nurses squeaked
in and out, all with half smiles he could
not decipher, for Grammy was sick
and when his mother was awake, she cried
he hadn't seen her tears before;
he tried not to look, preferring his book
with its pictures of the sun, orbiting
planets and mazy moons
and spaces in between where heaven might hide
he understood most of its words,
and none were of heavens--unless noxious gasses
and swirling clouds of dust were the winds which
whipped through the pearly gates
but his seven wise years knew that was not so
when he turned to the page of the
penultimate planet from the sun,YOU-ruh-nuss
he discovered it took four score and four years
to orbit our star once
math's mystery may have eluded him
though coincidence was not yet
in his lexicon, and now he knew Grammy
had her times around the sun, her eighty four
equaling one for the great tilting Uranus
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 11:54 PM UTC
if only i could assign
numbers and equations
to the feelings in my head;
a universal value system
even you could comprehend.
Because then I could understand
that when I think of you
my heart swells like
one thousand helium balloons
and my feelings for you
are approximately
one million, seven thousand and two.
i’d know that how I feel
when you offer her words
divided by the times
you’ve made me smile
equals the lightness in your eyes
when I catch them on mine.
I’d tell the doctors that today,
my sadness is about ninety-four;
equaling my disdain for the mirror
multiplied by the pit in my chest.
and he’d tell me to laugh
until I felt like a trillion.
Maybe it would make sense
when people ask,
“how do you feel?”
and I simply reply,
“zero.”
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC
Pencils
And papers
And fancy erasers
Rubberbands
And soda cans
And ratty old pairs of Vans
This and that
Or 'maybe' something
Equaling all sorts of nothing
And then I met Winona Ryder...
Jan 25, 2020
Jan 25, 2020 at 7:08 PM UTC
It seems most today are slightly confused on what actual talent is. As if word salad hastily tossed, with no seasoning or meaning, is equaling executive chef statuses. But that's just the mainstream line of thinking when it comes to social media marketing. Try to sound the most rehearsed and well-versed with big words describing nothing, and suddenly selfies with weak captions happen to bring out followers abundantly. This is just an observation...but a "cool" background is not a substitute for true use of tools for this vocation. Objectively speaking...there's more "photoshop poets" violating the "do's and don'ts" with candid pics accompanied with words of which they don't even know the meaning. Just saying. This theme is repeating. And it's annoying. Write thoughtfully...and responsibly.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 3:30 PM UTC
Have I done anything
To appear in your dreams?
No??
Are you positive?
I remember late might talks
My mind telling me
You dream about me
I have protected myself
From girls who like me
Because of my style
Not because of my personality
Personality equaling
Behavior,
True sense
My inner laughter
My real thoughts
Not my fake smile
But
The real me
Is known
To few
Not someone
Who would
Flirt and be thrown away later
No
That's not me
I am better
I can decide
So.
You girls
Who will be unnamed
Don't you dare
Try anything
I know what love is
You don't want love
You just want fun
I don't
Leave me alone
And let me be
If I need someone to love
We shall see
In due time..
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC
Once upon a time,
There was a beautiful maiden.
Without a doubt,
She glowed with magnificent power.
Power equaling beauty, that is.
This maiden, however,
Had a flaw.
She knew she was lovely.
She needn't be told so.
Yet, as much as her power radiated,
her flaw beamed brighter.
She was an envious soul.
Jealousy ruined her.
If she was the most beautiful in the land, why must she be vengeful?
She felt insecure compared to all of the other lovely maidens,
even though it was written in stone that her looks out shone theirs.
But it didn't matter,
All that mattered was that she was beautiful....and no one was to ever know about her little 'Beast'...barely being contained in the maiden's tiny body...ready at anytime to be released, and wreck havoc...
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
*You paid me a most humble courtesy
Ingratiating my own imagination’s sensuality.
It ‘tis one of those quiet thinking moments
Where for a time – mere moments – one’s spirit bows
Down with the body telling the mind a beautiful story.
But the body does so much more than just tell it.
So as I remember it, your mind does replay it.
The pleasure – as if it were greater than an actual
Remembrance of any true physical event.
What does this mean? you ask.
My feelings – my dear – would not be worth a penny
If I had not given these memories along with it.
Within ecstasy's imagination you will always remember me.
Whatever comes of it will make you the better for it.
What is imagination but a prelude to creation?
With the creation of anything – its being reclaims the imagined.
Imagined – created – imagined – created –
It goes round – n – round making of itself
A flavored reality sprinkled with the sweetest of all that is.
The sprinkles you feel are the effect of the seventy five
Percent water that we all truly are.
What can you imagine would happen if our memory
Awakened with this capability while holding hands?
My love, I can see the innocence in us both.
Innocence does not mean that we have not known life.
Innocence means that we are not guilty of failing our love.
If you are affected by these words or by any of my others,
May all of them be received with an equaling retort.
Upon each turn, each ascent and descent – they all are but
Road signs marking out our journey.
The safety that I afford you is as real as my memories.
Let my memories wash you clean of the evil
That you endure daily – repairing all that is damaged.
Absorb my imagination in word, in song and visually
As you feel yourself evolve.
Isn’t it sweet to feel these sweet threads spun in love
Mixed with the colors of our affections?
You have never touched me before -
But you have haven’t you?
We have all by ourselves, with a liberating simplicity,
Coupled our minds which must prove that love
Can be out of our heads and for my part in it
I cannot help but have these convictions.
All I ask in return is that you wear this love
As if it were a coat of arms letting my
Imagination free you from any evil harm.
For my kiss caries within it an Apostle’s heart.
If evil should continue to stand in our way
I shall imagine that evil’s demise.
Casting out the demons with nothing more
Than the warmest of all kisses.
Can you not feel them cower now?
That is the power of the imagination my dear.
For what is imagination if it is not a wish?
And is not a wish a prayer?
And is not a prayer Divine Ecstasy?
Let this be our truth!
Oh Lord hear my plea, I imagine ….*
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
**** a love
There are times when I feel like just leaving you alone,
But there are times I don’t want to be here all on my own;
But I know if we keep on, keep going on,
I can be right there with you when things go right
And when things go wrong.
I hang out with the losers and the freaks;
I love those people, they are just like me.
Why are you so cruel?
Why did you treat me like a fool?
Why do I care about anybody in this world?
I’m going to see you as a star and pick you apart;
I love you with all my heart, but to destroy is to create art.
To **** a love is to tear apart a connection.
One plus one equals love; this is what they call a misconception.
One plus one equals the possibility of two equaling love,
But it is not a definite answer to the question.
What happens when you put two people who love each other together?
I’m sorry the answer is not they stay together forever.
**** me please; my life is a tragic comedy,
Written by the Devil and acted out by Jim Henson.
Love was my all, now it is just another word,
I have become the killer of love, I have become another version.
Version 2.0, the new me I became;
I have changed from lover of love to the death of hearts.
I live in a hole of endless pain,
I must **** love; I must banish it to the stars.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 11:23 AM UTC
A map to treasure
An "X" perched sullen and unreachable,
Unchangeable
Immutable
Inedible
Intangible
In caves, dark
Scrawling crawling up my sclera
To blind
To bind
With direction more lethal
With words less lustrous:
Like diamonds
equaling crushed ice.
All this, a trick in the eye.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
dear god
i was thinking about it the other day
the dying the sickness the hunger
the one person getting hurt equaling a million prayers
yet the boys and girls being thrown in the basement bruised and battered get nothing
i've been praying for sixteen going on seventeen years
and what do i get
little
but the years before fourteen meant little
every year after meant a lot
my heart and soul went into hoping war would end and children would thrive
and she would fight for me
but alas
none of this came true
children starve and are beaten
women are *****
men are murdered
unthinkable acts of violence must go unseen because we worry about the small things
so verily verily i give unto you, this time, my final prayer
an echo a dream of space and the universe
of peace and love of literature and poetry
of songs sung loudly proof proof i need proof
i want her to love me
not anyone else because that will not be true
and even though i say this over and over again
that all i want is some peace of mind and some attraction to last throughout eternity
i figure, knowing you (for the most part)
nothing will come through and I'll be left here to fight in the Nothing
keep a man with two billion dollars safe and sound, though
you're good at that
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Which is worse:
The beast of Jealousy,
Or the beast of Regret?
Both equate a torture so painful it carves scars into your bones.
Guilt, eats you up with an acid so sharp, you're diminishing to nothing.
Envy, cuts you down with a fury equaling your own.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:47 PM UTC
Her favorite color was blue
Fluorescent
Transparent
I saw right through
Her favorite color was blue
And she was patient
As the moon
Awaiting the sun
For its rein to be done
Stars were her eyes
They would shine
Light up my lies
I couldn't hide
Her favorite color was blue
Though she wore the colors of pride
Neon like the signs
She drew attention
She took my mind
Held conversation
Touched hearts
Never was complacent
Her favorite color was blue
A color of the nation
Red were her lips
Full of excitement
Plush
Anticipating more than lust
White bright stars
Looking straight at me
Searching for secrets
I had no place to keep
And so we loved
And so we loved
And so we loved
Transparent
We loved right through
Skin to skin
Bone to bone
Just wouldn't do
She caressed the spirit
Her favorite color was blue
Like the veins
She kissed my wrist
Told me we were the same
An equation
That leaves two equaling one
Her favorite color was blue
Never thought I'd be saddend by you
Lying cold frigid
Her favorite color was blue
As her lips
Weightless fingertips
Dimmed eyes
They use to shine
Neon like the signs
She gave me her heart
Took mines
And so we loved
Transparent
We loved until
She was through
Into the blue
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
I hold love and yet
I repel love
I hold pain and yet
I am numb to pain
I can stand time
And yet...
I cannot seem to stand
Time...
Time is but a commodity
And yet I still feel at loss
Pushing forward against the axis of time
Pain equaling the progression of time
So that my pain never decreases and suffers
At a gradient of forced positivity
Or is it really forced?
To live in a state of both pain and positivity?
Is it really forced?
To fear death and yet also infinity
Is it really forced?
When you can see all that which surrounds you
As if blessings hide and yet are plain to sight
But to live through that all brings about confusion
You continue to move forward without falter and yet
You find yourself in seclusion
Not wanting to be found and yet
Seeking warmth til delusion
Finding comfort in the painful cold
And yet begging for the warmth of a human.
Time is but a commodity,
And yet man cannot compare,
They fall weak to its clutches,
And lose to despair.
Take a hint and do not try to live in seclusion
Because one can only take so much pain.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
I am a collector of hurt souls and sour people
Taking them through themselves
Answering confused looks
Nudging toward harsh truths
Laying out my ***** laundry
Everyone has something
Venerability equaling authenticity
In meeting people who are worth meeting
Showing yourself
hurt to heal,
a trade of sorts
Making deals
But you would not bargen
In the mist of all these people
I fell…
Fell
In
Love
In love with
Making others feel understood
Standing alone, I stood with everyone
They all felt they knew me
Truth is they don’t understand
But you do and we meet each other where I am
You walk me through myself and you through you
Not standing in a sea alone
But standing next to you
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
I used to long for
metal doors
that melted
forming
pool like portals
to other worlds.
Places where monsters
roamed distorted landscapes,
where skies rained
drops of purple
forming portal puddles
that would take me
to places even farther
from my messed up family.
I dreamed of
adventures tempered by pain
cause I felt there must be
a balance to pay in my fantasies.
Scars for freedom,
bruises equaling
the level of love I deserved,
the level that would earn my
warrior princess’s affection.
Through proof of
unfair punishment
while wielding healing hands
I would help
other victims like myself.
Earning a redemption
that was never necessary.
How strange that even in
my fairytale dreams
I treated myself as unfairly
as the daytime beast
that left red marks on me.
But now that I have found peace
I no longer dream of
a troubled love like that.
I no longer feel I need to earn back
that dignity and tranquility
that was so brutally
stolen from this mother’s son.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
milo and quantum physics
but yet there is no equation
for your emotional unavailability
y equaling the x factor of vulnerability
i’ve always hated the duality of
math
all the silent rules to remember
i just want to be loved the way that
i love
without so many computations
how do i know if silence + comfort equals
pleasure or complacency?
a limit on the questions i can ask in a day
i just want to know everything
do you like the way i **** on your *******
am i ever going to meet your family?
are you going to love me forever?
2 standard deviations of what you mean
when you say what you do
am i enough for you and i just don’t
know it yet?
basic math skills at a deficit
am i unable to put 2 and 2 together
are there limits to us
or do they not exist?
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 12:21 AM UTC
My first rendezvous with you
Catalyzed and equation equipped with elements
of cutting passion and delusional euphoria
Equaling to a recipe for catastrophe.
Even now, we forget
That we are just friends.
As your skin brushes against mine,
The friction builds
And static flares like a dying sun
Your flames bursting into the abyss
When our lips part open
Silently begging for a kiss,
Remembering the days
We always did.
My insides churn to the deep ring of your voice
Our breaths entwine visibly in the stark morning air
Like our limbs had once upon a time
In a heated frenzy of guilt and lies
Physics denies the sun to kiss the planets
Just as God forbids Eve the pomegranate
Yet your fiery blaze habitually
Crashes into my earth
Until the chaos of daily life
Numbs my mind.
Even still,
A red star splits the sky
Every morning and every night.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
divergence divergence
meet me at ten
i could kiss your monotone lips, your lighted eyes
in your quick glances a grander feeling
floating like a feather in spite of you
effortless
by your command, your suggestion, your guidance
working on up through towards never equaling infinity
resistance creates a larger slope
but resist we try as we make room for the never-coming
i know you see right through (but not in)
and it's a **** good thing because the message isn't clear
computing, comparing, contrasting still
deliberate derivation, patient integration
a mistake i would make again
to feel the security of then
and the ever-outstanding promise of the rendezvous
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
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