"exclusivity" poems
Genuine intellect is often falsely understood.
Brainpower cannot be measured by grades or exam performance,
Nor from one's tone of voice or accent,
Or the complexity of their vocabulary.
It is not always proportional to the size of an income,
The exclusivity of a school,
The grasp of understanding of trigonometry or algebra,
Or one's apparent IQ.
*Difficulties and struggles do not make you unintelligent,
They make you human.*
Perception;
Clarity of insight,
Being a good judge of character
and showing an understanding beyond thought
indicate subtle brilliance.
Having an aptitude with words,
Knowing how to comfort, to console,
Delicacy and precision
And showing empathy to emotions
Signify the intricate beauty of the mind.
*Intelligence is sensitive, and has a certain elegance.
It is knowing, but not saying.*
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
Chanel No.5 fills the air.
My bleary eyes make out the outlines of a stage.
I catch sight of athletic contours of her body, gold dust covered skin shimmering under a flood of exclusivity.
Chic, Elegant with a touch of class.
All senses awakened by her salacious seductive moves.
Tassels and feathers add to sensual illusion and my eagle eyes are transfixed on her snake like movements.
Sugar **** takes centre stage!
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
twice by god's accidental interference,
our crash vehicles, super sized shopping carts,
connect, we are manger-penalized for unnecessary roughness
and disturbing the supermarkets peace
what better way to judge character than to examine
a single persons shopping cart contents?
hers,
all organic, milk, heirloom tomatoes, even the Chardonnay,
grown upon the farms of the island and vineyards on
the forks that shelter the isle from the ravages of the Atlantic
mine,
Hebrew National franks, yellow mustard,
very classy brioche buns, a six pack of Corona Light,
and funny colored, funny looking, rusted russet potato chips
with a tremulous smile, and an overly loud, derisive sniff,
pronounces me dead man walking sooner than later,
to which, I respond,
then, teach me, where shall we dine tonight?
later that night,
after a thousand kisses of her fluttering eyelashes,
she props herself upon an elbow and
in a tone sincere and caring,
extracts from the poet promises of
natural exclusivity
from now on, healthy, natural only, organic and pure,
from the soul soil of our shared habitat
her suntan skin, garden-digging hand, I clasp,
softly climbing on top of her,
announce with total genuine sincerity and solemnity;
I swear it, from now on, all my loving will be sourced locally
rewarded with a laugh and a gentle but hard enough,
garden to table (with her free hand), head smacking,
I noting nod, good naturedly
that both the laugh and smack,
as well,
*sourced locally,
sourced lovingly,*
which then seeded
this new only love jointly authored poem,
planted in our mingling blossoming crashing
bodies
5/29/17 i
12:43pm
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
The inverse of error
A metaphorical math
Because I rhyme so sick in season
You can call men Sylvia Plath
You can call me Sylvia Plath
Spilling verses accidental
Spilling blood like pen and paper
Give me rock paper, scissors—construction
Philosophy of metaphors—the reciprocal of destruction
Creation in deviation
Multiplication in meditation and mesmerizing memorization
Mad in the head, but I’m a mat-hatter for love
'A zombie by neuroses
A zombie by drugs
But on those pharmaceutical
Cause cut **** is for thugs
(3% probability
Is in the margin of error
How many times have we ******
And would you even care?
Oh, despair. The plague of a woman-
Slick wit like slick ****
And you can call these rhymes grimy
Because I’m cleaning your eyes with it.)
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
*Unity in diversity
This is indeed an exaggerated paucity
Of information by think tanks
Advancing this school of thought regardless of their money in banks
Towns and cities boast of cultures varied and eccentric
Despite a people having an intrinsic
Nature of sense of purpose and wherewithal
Matters accentual,
An amorphous issue subject to constant change
Either way it’s a cake in the oven of fabrication, hope we don’t cringe
When fruits of this intellectually deprived charade
Become realized by a people with minds renegade.
Isn’t it “well-placed” being a pessimist?
Of the mind than an optimist of the heart hence an intellectualist*
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
Try your best to escape and free
Your mind is not your identity
Your genetics, your family tree
Your looking glass eyes can see
Through the window an fatefully
Change your perception of reality
And redefine who you are to be
My new persona is in a coma down in Barcelona
Now I'm Jonah in love with Mona from Arizona
Drinking corona with Fiona in the streets of Verona
Creativity is a proclivity that unshackles our identity free
Journey with me far from the vast sea of mental captivity
Exclusivity of proactivity creates a glorious life of festivity
Consent to your dreams to the absolute umpteenth degree
Augment your schemes and forget about the no guarantee
Reinvent thee extremes, and you will never be a life absentee
Remember as you read that we are all connected eternally
On this marble together spinning we are all just guests
Wandering around trying to solve our personal quests
Humans being we happened to be, but only temporarily
May as well attempt and squeeze life to death and manifest
All your aspirations and ambitions should be put to the test
All so blessed with a mind, and a beating heart in our chest
So why not invest the rest of our time to aspire to be the best
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Fashion designer Manav Gangwani feels that the Hindi film industry acts as a catalyst for the Indian fashion industry.
He believes that since Bollywood has a huge fan base, it helps in getting a designer’s brand recognised.
Gangwani says the Indian couture industry has significantly evolved over the past years and it is the responsibility of the fashion fraternity to keep this evolution constant. “Over the years, I have always added a modern twist to the silhouettes in my couture collections. The couture industry has significantly evolved over the past years. I think it is important that we keep this evolution constant,” Gangwani said in an earlier occasion.
The designer, who has styled Bollywood stars like Hrithik Roshan, Kangana Ranaut and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, believes that associating with such celebrities does a world of good to a designer’s creations.
“Bollywood certainly acts as a catalyst for the Indian Fashion industry in terms of retail. In one way or another, the designers prefer to commercially dress up a celebrity outfit for a film rather than showcasing it exclusively on the ramp. Since Bollywood has millions of followers, the brand recognition through it goes a long way,” Gangwani told in an interview.
The designer, who also had the honour of dressing the King Of Bhutan Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, shared that the “potential customers are more discerning than ever and have a growing penchant for exclusivity”.
The growing couture industry has set high standards for aspiring designers and that intense competition makes designers put their best work forward, he added.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
This divided society
putting most of us in poverty
but can't do nothing 'bout it
cause the computer cuts us too neatly
Still upholding the divinity of Austrian economic theories
when for the last hundred years
the rise of the dollars been all about
demographics & behavioral science
Capital is nothing more than a natural resource
I don't care that you got there first
The aquifer runs wide
please don't poison mine
Profit is nothing but an unpaid cost of labor
Cause I agreed to a certain pay
I must work the rest of my hours as a Wage Slave
Yeah, you could say it was consensual
but don't have much choice
when I got mouths to feed, a checklist of other needs,
and no extra dough to risk buying
exclusivity rights to plunder a piece of Earth
Human Beings: We call ourselves advanced
when we never been closer to death
Human Beings: We fear the government
while proprietors with most control grab up more
Human Beings: I get more joy buying things today
than playing with the things I bought yesterday
Human Beings: Millennial pessimists, riding out the apocalypse
instead of promulgating progress
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Kippers and toast for breakfast,
washed down by a fairtrade Ceylon,
eagerly anticipating the Christain Aid appeal
through my letter box.
Aware of others earthly disengage
their morning monotony flickers through their lounge,
consummate hypocrites watching the repeat soap operas,
the profundity of their silence radiates through to the adverts.
as they had a cause too,
until its auto recluse with the
outside world
the news slot borders on paranoia
a dent to exclusivity.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 4:41 PM UTC
Our love is a living legend,
Of our story there is no end,
We together will make a life.
I'll sure be a good husband,
And the most loyal partner,
She'll make the best wife..
As it started centuries ago,
Ah, the yolk is mature now,
The egg of our relationship...
Not hollow - it's just sturdy,
Of its sweets we're worthy,
It's the Easter of our love..
We both relish its flavour,
We've that rich exclusivity,
Our world of love we live in.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
Leaflet through the door on a 5K run for charity.
Spam email on the benefits of the Paleo eating regime.
Pals posting photo's of culinary creations on Facebook,
and Im in the queue for the food bank;
a hand to mouth existence.
In Scotland, half the people in poverty are working families
struggle to survive day-to-day and the basics of food to live
being asked to work longer hours for less money
while the politicians say they have nothing more to give
and the "Queen talks about austerity while wearing a £1 million hat"
(I'll thank Frankie Boyle for his razor sharp insights on that)
and Im in the queue for the food bank;
a hand to mouth existence.
Contrary to common misconception it doesn't always rain in Scotland.
This week its been 26 degrees, and Glasgow is awash in t-shirts and shorts, and beer gardens with bees. Cold beer never looked so refreshing.
West Enders in their top-down convertibles extolling the virtues of organic produce from Peckhams and their exclusivity price-point gourmet cheeses,
and Im in the queue for the food bank;
a hand to mouth existence.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
*There is a voice that enlists itself
To exclusivity, and is patient.
One that never knew the tongue,
But just the heart.
There is a voice that heeds,
And heeds only to your eyes.
There is a darkness somewhere,
That is an origin of light.
Lean to it. It deserves
Your celebrated silence.
It deserves your soul.
It deserves itself, its true.
It deserves...
...your love.*
© 2015 J.S.P.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC
Cordoned off from moneyed people
Kept at distance by the clique,
Separate by class and culture’s
Moneyed boundary is their trick.
Wealth creates a boundary zone
Where only wealthy tread,
Admission is beyond the reach
Of those who toil for bread.
The maintenance of status
Is defended by their code
Of only Rich association
With no dilution in the mode.
Rich parties held on tropic isles
Exclusive to their wealth,
Accessable by private jet
And curvey blondes with stealth.
With status strictly guarded
By muscle, dogs and fence,
And fawning politicians
Who clamour to commence
The photo opportunity,
The handshakes and the smiles
Of wealth and power in unison
To win them votes for miles.
The Rich protect their Rich friends
In their universal club
Exclusivity’s the keynote…
And you’ll deftly get the rub
Should you smear your gloss and polish,
Lose your money in a fraud,
Then you’ll be exorcised at once
And immediately ignored.
The rules here are quite simple
And elementary my friend,
No matter how you gain your wealth
Or make it in the end….
By fair or foul’s acceptable
Just so long as banks’ remand
That you OWN a ****** fortune….
Then the Rich will shake your hand.
Marshalg
Broke@the Bach
Mangere Bridge
4 December 2010
Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 1:47 PM UTC
Frozen,
Close to absolute zero
In a state of near preservation
Do our atoms collide
Breaching the comatose exclusivity
Of each electron as it slowly orbits the nucleus.
In this way we can simplify the quantum
To a near exact state of uncertainty
Which Heisenberg predicted
Even as cold as our atoms have become
Their exact speed
Or their exact location
Continues to remain a mystery
As neither can be known plural
Only singular to the extent
That the realm of the smallest of particles
Is dependent on the temperature
Within the heart of a proton
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
there is a numbed feeling
one of exclusivity
that suggests
a solitary reconnaissance
one of orientated purposes
where moods are reflectively animated
in individual focus
in order to infiltrate
a non sharing experience
but the feeling abruptly stops
it is a synchronized wound
it is the assassination
of the distant and complex
terminals of the human mind
i am irretrievably shocked
poeple live
but there are really no survivors
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
Born my son of youth,
My pride shadowed you,
Our long talks sitting outside,
Your wisdom and learning astounded,
You followed my career to fly,
Your letters stroked my ego,
Returning in uniform,
So healthy and strong.
Life is random and chaos,
Tomorrow is a dice tossed against a wall,
Struggling up my drive,
Grasping a wounded leg,
You was a ghost decimated by ****
My heart bled, my love insane,
You were weak, sick, you were meths *****
To the VA and rehab I hoped,
But rules by elderly, tired, bored women closed the doors,
You detoxed, and cleaned up in your high school room,
Daily classes, and screening followed soon,
A wife, two girls, rounded your life,
But **** called her *****
And she had exclusivity of your soul,
Of your girls gone, likely a loss for evermore,
We opened our hearts and all we had,
To you, wife, and little daughters,
Once, twice, three times many more,
Our pain ebbed, but our love was true,
Lastly, my wife and I had highest of hopes,
Everything fell in place this time,
I prayed, cried, it’s been awhile,
Life is Random and Chaos,
We all fell this time, no energy anymore,
No hope, no faith, battered love I taste,
The emptiness I feel is to great, I put it in a box,
My son of youth, I can no longer shadow you,
Yet Chaos and Randomness is a two edged sword....
By James Kirk-Wiggins (c) January 2020, All rights reserved
Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 4:33 PM UTC
The separations between
time & space
grow a little bigger,
the further I am
from your
face.
Relativity,
lost
with no trace.
*everything you do
drips with grace*
love bearing no exclusivity
it cannot be
misplaced
Souls intertwined
leaving
little
space
for things
I once called
mine
caught in your arms
there is no race.
Remind me again
where we are...
What is time?
What is space?
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
We grew the earth, grew it around us and grew into it.
We grew into pairs of shoes after pairs of shoes
and we grew into our names.
We learnt to tie the laces of our shoes
and to tie our tongues around our names,
and the names of other things, other people,
and around other people's tongues.
We planted our cultures, cultivated them,
and they blossomed into traditions
and stereotypes and generalisations and rituals.
We broke in our shoes, broke the ice,
broke our voices, broke promises.
We broke glasses, hearts and bones.
We built hierarchies, looked up, looked down, bowed down.
We broke down into dictatorships and demonstration.
We found solutions like democracy
and diplomas and delegated.
We fixed fountains and freight trains
and falling trees in the forest and faucets that leaked.
We formed partnerships, made promises,
pledged to parties for both politics and both parents.
We made marriage and then we annulled, we divorced.
We fabricated the faiths that we fed on.
We invented stopwatches, reality television,
pedicures, lampshades, philosophy,
greenhouses, dictionaries, exclusivity,
feng shui, hand-holding, ****** medication,
street art, lawsuits, lingerie, car boot sales,
snow days, karaoke, comics, psychics,
boarding schools, toast, baseball, psychiatry,
bird-watching, plaid, research, stag nights,
slasher movies, salads, and interventions.
We wanted and we wished and we waited
and we wanted for more.
We were growing faster than we invented.
We were outgrowing ourselves
and our earth
and our shoes
and our names.
We forgot what we had found and fixed and formed.
We broke down and went broke.
We are waiting to invent a new way we can fix ourselves.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
It's a funny sort of Understanding
when One postulates an assertion
based wholly upon interpretation
and then proceeds to refuse to allow
the reply of the Subject
before forming subjective conclusions.
So what if you're being facetious?
I can take a joke;
and if I'm the subject of the joke,
at least I'll get the context,
if it is, in fact,
a valid hyperbole to draw.
If, as you claim,
"Reality doesn't cease to exist
just because one choses to ignore it,"
then why, I must inquire,
would you send that note
and then not allow a reply?
I see a Jungian pattern here!
If you take
all of what you see
to heart so readily,
then I fear for your sanity;
I anticipate
your exclusivity.
All I do
in this particular medium
is put ideas out there,
hence the title
"Philosomancer;"
as I have said before
(not that anyone cares to investigate)
I don't necessarily subscribe
to the notions I consider and write down,
they simply provide a map
of where I am,
of where I've been,
and, perhaps,
in Time,
a notion
of where I'm going;
a truly powerful piece of information to have.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
Some place quiet
peaceful
Preferably
I would like to
Walk
Or maybe
Ride a bike there
If I have to drive
I think too many people might know about it
It has already become too popular
Its purpose
The reason I would have went there
has already been defeated
I’m not trying to give an impression of exclusivity
Sometimes
I just want to be alone
In a place where
I can take a book
Read for hours
I can take a pen and note book
Maybe my laptop
Write for days
I’d bring my headphones
Or
Listen to nature’s symphony
A radio would be too much
Too loud
Not something I would want to carry
I won’t do what I did to my last one
One became two
Two became a few
A few
For me
Became too many
I won’t tell anyone
Ill just leave a note,
***Gone fishing
Be back
Sometime between
Now and Then***
©Christopher F. Brown 2012
Technorati Tags: Fishing Hole,poetry,Christopher F. Brown,cfbrown.com
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC
Dangerous words are the ones that slip
under our guard.
They nestle next to us at night,
and whisper treacle-sweet nothings
that trickle and slide down canals
to a dosing mind, honeying the way.
They want to ensure easy passage
for the poison kept still at bay.
They tuck us in,
fluff our pillows and our egos,
till we give them freely
those moments of sincerity.
All those genuine smiles and hitched breaths,
we suppose their value
was in their exclusivity.
We break off these pieces of truth
like our hearts are homemade chocolate,
and hand them over in pretty gift wrap.
It’s when these snakes have us so charmed
and they are sated,
that they finally snap and spit.
Their bites are full of venom,
and we see their fangs too late.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 5:33 PM UTC
I AM LONGING FOR YOUR LOVE
I was born with a morose luck.
Awnings of my eyelids contain it,
Meaning to contain the deluge.
Love me not with anything restricting you,
Onto my future, you should move,
Not carrying the baggage of your past,
Genteel breezes of your breath, me they heal,
Into the future you must step with me,
Not worrying about negative things,
Guest you be mine and just accompany me.
Few to wait are more years,
Over the long and lanky,
Rosy and sunny days.
Yes, only your love saves me,
On the days of loneliness,
Under the wicked sky,
Rugged are otherwise my feelings.
Lost in the past is my sweetheart,
Ostensible is my love for you,
Veering away from it you are,
Expecting I am this exclusivity.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 12:59 AM UTC
there is a feeling
one of exclusivity
that suggests
a solitary reconnaissance
of self orientated purposes
moods reflectively animated
in individual focus
in order to infiltrate
a non sharing experience
but the feeling abruptly stops
it is a synchronized cyber wound
it is the assassination
of the distant and complex
terminals of my mind
i am irretrievably shocked
there are no survivors
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
The stripes in one ear.
But through the other, the music of,
timers, chatter, lunch dates, and gossip,
heels clicking across the floor, black, yellow and glossy.
Steam, glass bottles, plastic bottles, recyclable cups and coffee beans and nuts.
Hipsters...
Pomp and derogation and self empowerment your the sake of self indulgence,
and the who knews of what firsts,
and the ******* iPhones!!!
Everywhere looking out there apple eyes, winking at their older brothers,
openly mocking their lack of flash and exclusivity,
(secretly resenting their rarity, in a world washed in white).
Its the 3.
The 4.
The 5, 6, 7, 10!
Look how clean,
Look how much I payed,
Look how little is left of myself, as my own.
I am one.
I am unique.
I am original.
You are one, of a million others.
You are unique, in your perspective of the world.
That of a carriage horse with blinders, led by his driver to buy and throw away and buy again...
You are original.
You are.
You are unique.
You are beautiful.
But you are Nieve, lost in the sea computerized ******* produce.
So you,
you one in a million.
You unique flake of snow, with a pattern all your own.
Let me take you from this place.
To the beginning.
Where the apple got his name.
Where the trees grow fruit to eat.
And the only music is that of the wind.
And the water.
And leaves in the trees.
And when you feel, rather than hear.
You will be the thing you want most.
Yourself.
Yourself alone.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
*The wind whispers secrets
And the sky hollers, annoyed
With exclusivity. I think I heard
Laughter from the leaves.*
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC