"expansions" poems
As life in Israel flourishes
For Israelis, it's not so fine--
As many conditions deteriorate--
For the poor people of Palestine.
Chances of a two-state solution
Dwindle, which is not a good sign
As settlement expansions increase,
Affecting the people of Palestine.
For Palestinians imprisoned in Gaza,
The infrastructure is in a decline.
Will Gaza be uninhabitable for
The poor people of Palestine?
Defining what is their land, Israeli
Lawmakers draw a hard line:
This land belongs to the Jews, they say,
Forgetting the people of Palestine.
Cuts in economic aid
And hospital care will undermine
The health and quality of life
Of the poor people of Palestine?
Will an Israeli apartheid regime
Be the ultimate design,
Or will there be hope for the poor
Struggling people of Palestine?
-by Bob B (10-22-18)
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
The expansions of space
the matrix we learn to re-create
lucid dreaming conquers the mind
lust drains the mind rendering it blind
past issues fade like clouds
pedestrians pass in the confusion of time
inner thoughts expressed aloud
surrounded atmosphere all around
limitations is what keeps humanity underground
infinity: a number of fantasy
kept up like gasses and when the bubble pops acid drops
slipping into the abyss till gravity stops
amid the ashes is where life crashes
so long as it stays concealed in darkness
everything comes out to light
in such sparkling moments
in energy in rebirth
the fallen jaguar rises taking the form of night
chosen by the stars
given divine right
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
*concerning the last lines... all we can do with the Cartesian Libra is add adjectives to it, which is contrary to what the existentialists did by simply modifying a furthered abstraction of the compounds 'i think' and 'i am', via the inverted comma(s), otherwise known as dittoing, sic, prior said, or re-, true to the oddity; a king will continue to question his position / being a king by not thinking about it, hence his uninhibited delusions, hereditary, very much genetic; and hence someone who precursors his being with much concern for thinking, the inhibited delusion, self-serving - both are adjective expansions of the Cartesian Libra, just added qualities, given both are facts requiring a slab of marble to look like Rodin's kiss - or approximate, with therefore being the chisel, and so dependent the end product, indeed a slab of marble at first, but not necessarily Rodin's kiss at the end - perhaps a Notre Dame gargoyle...*
i am what i think,
that's what i came up with after
reading some of the bio sketches -
even though the truth is that
i am what i own -
thinking is the part that comes last,
if i own a bed and a roof over my head,
i end up i thinking about being
homeless - but sometimes you do find
the ones that are inclined
to be what they think, the extremes
we call them - supreme anti-materialists,
it's not satisfying to own a house
or a phone, more is required,
something tinged with transcendental
counters - they "own" a home
but rather not live in it, already the
looming fairy of heaven tells them
of an unnatural life expectancy -
some might say thinking a form of
uninhibited delusion sketches,
like i'd be a venture capitalists taking
a weekend away in Hawaii while
some ridiculousness of poverty in India
was to blame for my jet streams and
carbon footprints - they keep the
inhibited delusional in cages without
a chance to sketch - because the uninhibited
delusional have all the freedoms
that Versailles could allow - or...
uninhibited delusions of non-thought,
inherited, hereditary,
versus inhibited delusions of thought,
mutated, self-invented...
this could very well be a "magic" square
with two further variations, i.e.
uninhibited delusions of thought (psychopathy)
inhibited delusions of non-thought (coma?
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
****** suspicious schemes,
Right or wrong, I see past all communication into extreme expansions of a negative mindset,
Scarlet buttons compressed with Indian shaded tint, through mistaken pigment,
Veins pumping overtime with boiled fumes of something condensing,
You’re running out of immediate clockwork when days brew skyward and panic appears to be tempting your envious iris,
Behind the machinery are the blueprints,
Directed only towards agitated agony and sour sorrow,
Illuminated by locked doors-
I ask you- as the reader- the listener-
See passed my memories and create room for visions of a tangible imagination and leg-pumping adrenaline,
Needle infested wrenches lock arms with the absent intelligence of conscious deprived brain flow,
I see you peaking around my duct and depict an abstract view of confused, focused eyeliner,
Slick and plentiful dew drops linger between a plugged safeguarded build,
You’re running out of precious seconds as Antoine Fisher burns free the story behind a smearing disguise of gratitude,
Amen to the present and many men for this lopsided track record,
I’ve got a key witness in my pocket, along with images of what I lived for, before mistakes took flight,
Continue on with your heart, as nothing more than a stranger in a cauliflower society where I erase the painted tapestries,
Beware of the ticking, as I await my calendar to run dry,
Prepare your own stopwatch and click on the rolling minutes my old friend,
I hate everything you represent,
Everything you expose to the previously tainted atmosphere,
But mainly, everything you have coming home from war,
Tick…tick…tick…
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Can you turn it down?
Loves on turbo, hearts destruction,
Willing partner needs eruption.
Love is rivers, I might drown.
Can you turn it up?
Souls construction isn't flowing,
Welcome warmth is ever knowing.
Love is wine and you're the cup.
Can you still be more?
Satisfaction guaranteed,
Whether chained or will be freed.
Love is knocking at the door.
Can you have it all?
Handled well but simulated,
Diamond eyes were stimulated.
Love, so handsome, shall it fall.
Can you die tonight?
Left in bliss, and still tuxedoed,
Warm expansions, then I'm vetoed.
Love, or is it loveless flight.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 5:03 PM UTC
time passes, does it not,
trickling away in drops, from a leaking tap unnoticed
imperceptible, drops of our days and months that
tsunami into years
we might grow more cynical or wise
we might allow the animals to howl or to transform
or we might eliminate hierarchy and symbolism
and see plain and clear past the allegory
what is left of the experiment
(an unintended one, an unknowing participant even)
the residue, the remains of the years –
what chemical composition do we have?
What has transpired here? -
as clueless as we are of the first expansions
the time when the universes arrive in another cycle;
or perhaps we could see everything in the cocksureness of faith
and drag on, in suspension, leave in doubt or in certainty –
each but a conditioning, a myth,
the truth shrouded in symbol and plainness
O sweet loves,
Time wraps us in its mysterious archaic cyberspace
an inner space that draws a roar, a bark, a howl
and we have justifications, visionary words, systems
to put everything into perspective
like a Titian framed so elegantly in an esteemed museum
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
A Faster Cleanup
I’ve watched the documentaries,
Read the news and watched TV.
I wish I weren’t ordinary,
More pedestrian than I would wish to be,
Surrendering to traps of
Entertainment for diversion -
All those mediocre pastimes I accuse the herd
Of needing, and I shan’t excuse my nerdy being
Leaning on that chestnut ‘will is strong but flesh is weak’.
So before you puke I’ll speak
And say, we need a faster cleanup.
Plastic on the ocean bottoms,
Record heats and floods and rain.
Deserts spreading, Arctic’s melting: symptoms
Of the odium of inhumane
Expansions everywhere you look:
The Book of Crooked Modern-day,
Modernity’s last supper.
So, we need a faster cleanup
Mr. Trump
and all the others.
A Faster Cleanup 5.27.2017
Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin
I'm sure you get the message. It's a pregnant one!
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
I'm going in there,
the box is locked, but I've been feigning,
shouldering off opportunities,
tormenting
how you lie, how;
you
are too ****
good,
too **** sweet,
for me.
still,
take me with you, please.
how do you manage to,
or, how do I delude myself as,
to get to the matter at hand:
i want
every
last brushstroke
of your co-ordinate skin
surface patch union
in a quilt of
frail, tendre, beauteous,
branching, distant
expansions.
but you're here,
no mind.
ok, so:
you're a forest fire in my
eyes when
I simply glaze through
your
al-
a-
ba-ster domain,
where your heart sits,
still,
contorted,
left, chinese-puzzled, by a boy you, still,
could never hate.
{nobody ever hates anyway, truly} maybe.
{nobody ever loves anyway, truly} I guess I have proof, otherwise.
And I, well,
I could never not love everything.
Whatever it is, makes up you.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 7:27 AM UTC
Nature, in the broadest sense, is the natural,
physical, material world, or universe;
Nature can refer to phenomena of the physical world,
also to life in general. The study of nature is a large,
if not the only, part of science. Although humans
are part of nature, human activity is often understood
as a separate category from other natural phenomena.
The word nature is derived from the Latin word natura,
or "essential qualities, innate disposition", & in ancient times,
literally meant "birth".
_Natura_ is a Latin translation
of the Greek word physis (φύσις), which originally
related to the intrinsic characteristics that plants,
animals & other features of the world develop
of their own accord. The concept of nature as a whole,
the physical universe, is one of several expansions
of the original notion; it began with certain core
applications of the word φύσις
by pre-Socratic philosophers,
& has steadily gained currency ever since;
This usage continued during the advent of
the modern scientific method in the last several centuries
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
When all the dust has blown
By all the rust be grown
Change the scene for once more;
Leaf in the wind, and spore.
An infinitesimal seed
So hapless and inconceivable,
That emptiness of heart
Germinates of a green new start.
A negligible bacterium
To the unforeseen eye
Effervesce, bloom and spume!
Company will soon greet you!
O embrace the sobering ground,
'Tis here just like you found.
All the resources will draw nigh,
'Twas in you all this time!
All need words of encouragement,
Some protein and enzyme.
Rest, reactants, in thy calm tent,
Get some shut eye to see rhyme.
But ever haunted of the past
Should the even'n empire return(1)
See a world in a grain of sand(2),
But never Heaven on this land.
Lo the booms and the busts!
Lo expansions and recessions!
Lo the mad and the sad!
Lo multitudes and solitudes!
O humanity I love you!(3)
How generations trapp'd
That live in cells within, imbued
To so idly stay rapt.
But to their good fortune, adapt!
You shall be absolved
Walking with peace as every stepp'd(4),
The diplomat endow'd
Alas! A new variety!
With such resilience
In ev'ry zone, ev'ry climate
Here to live, here to please!
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
Sometimes when I miss someone
I feel it catch in my throat
Something between a whimper
More of a cough and a choke
Fireflies flutter in my pulmonary cavities
My ribs are the lantern
Caging my fatalities
As they burn from their expansions.
Igniting even the darkest of nights
They flicker off
One by one
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
I knew you once
I knew the gaps between your teeth
The spaces between your eyelashes
The scratched up map
On your back that showed me
Where you’ve been
And where you still longed to go
I knew the cracks in your lips
The carvings in your skin
The dreams that you projected
On the wall as you slept
I collected those unconscious seeds
And planted them in my garden
I knew the vessels in your heart
The adhesive bonds of your molecules
I witnessed the expansions and contractions
Building to an existential crisis
I saw the moment of realization
That logic may be irrelevant in such situations
I watched as you fled to that forsaken land
Between your heart and your head
In the back of your throat
To keep you from saying anything more
And you stayed there
Until you became a stranger
But I knew you once
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 4:59 AM UTC
He dispossessed me one summer as we sat beneath skies
blazed blue with such wonder that it burnt my eyes
and I sat and I faltered as those days wore on, this beauty
that mocked me because my glory had gone.
I saw blankness instead of the stars of the night
for he left me, bereft me, took the colours from the light
I was angry, inconsolable, annihilated aspirations of
affinity, consciously avoiding living in contempt of infinity.
Those days were sandpaper shards beneath my clothes
and I worked hard to make sure that nobody knows
those depths that I sank to, the sleepless smoked nights,
where I sat and I wondered how to turn off that light.
Life is brittle glass, dazed and ***** stained clothing;
there's no meaning or secret or way to be knowing
where steps we have not taken will force us to move
and sometimes this darkness is our only truth.
But colours crept back despite eyes not meeting mine
and unwillingly I resolved to tear down this shrine
and I won't lie to you and tell you that each day is joy,
simply subtle expansions of life cherished without that boy.
Torrential rains still lash and terrible things still happen
and his name I still hear which causes infernal distraction
but steadily I am limping my feet away from his lack
finding fire in small things to kindle lapsed hope back.
For the wind and the rain bring green grass and seeds
and salted solitude brought serenity; refusals to concede
and there are new secrets to hold which force me to warm,
for hope, heart and happiness return after each storm.
Look up to the treetops and look around to your friends,
you stand tall, worthy amongst many great men
truth is but perception and so the truth I perceive
is there is hope for you, because there was hope for me.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
Continuous reflections of every light that passes,
The detection of my eyes as water simply dances.
Stillness shows a shimmering reverse dimension,
Tires break the water shattering buildings in its reverberations.
Tiny droplets hit the glass like little expansions of reality,
It is often sad that wet blacktops lead to many fatalities.
But despite the flaws water at night is still the greatest,
Yet the warmer rain brings the sweeter kiss.
In the midst of a rainbow one I cannot resist,
But as we drive down the path.
Seemingly dark and dampened,
You grabbed my hand so tightly.
I never saw the edge of the road,
Flying through the air.
The water seems so very cold,
Now a love of something leads to never growing old.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
It is just a thing
barely a temporary fix
that does not mix
with the mind’s expansions
does not help you grow
or know
new worlds
within or without.
It will not save you
or take you to
new and grand places
with unknown faces.
Unless, it is a book.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
Is it true?
that our mother is dying with blue
making her weak without any clue
destroying her body until its due
Our mother is sleeping for generations
while we **** her softly with excitation's
inches of her body were destroyed by expansions
taking her for granted for our situations
Her long deciduous hair that gives life for us
suddenly gone missing for our lust
shaving it all is a must
not knowing for her kindness to us
Now we shall proudly say
that we viciously **** her everyday
making her look bad until we may
ending her life, so to us I shall say
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 9:47 AM UTC
so my common sense
expands past
common expansions
this trance is
a prison my sentence
i'm risking
Gaining time here i
wont die here
i try to hear the guards
i lie here
constructing and tinkering
but i fear
my concious and thinking
are not clear
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 11:47 PM UTC
Blood’s on your lips as you stare into my soul.
What is it you see?
You see a victim.
I can see the carnivorous beast in you and the predator gnashing her teeth at her prey, sending the scent of adrenaline through the air and intimating with the fragrance of potential gratification.
But I am helpless as my ears flick like a helpless doe.
You stalk your pray with ***** glances and sweet smiles from across expansions of room, waiting for the perfect moment to lunge in for the ****
Finding it, you come closer and let me know my vulnerability with only one word.
Hi
And the rest is history
Little did the prey know that he was the hunted. Our bodies twisted and bent in such ways of pleasurous escape that I don’t realize.
I’m trapped.
Nibble on my neck like a predator crushes a windpipe.
Lick your lips like a satisfied wolf and let me know who my ender is.
Spread yourself over me and don’t let me escape, grip me like you’ll never satisfy again.
And then leave.
The predator has been satisfied, the prey left to the vultures.
How can she play with so many souls and feel no remorse? How can she turn such innocence without the slightest thought of disturbance?
One must keep his lust and his love as separate entities, for if you confuse the two, you might become a victim.
Man-eater
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 7:31 PM UTC
I had a dream last night, one where I was whisked away in the arms of a love.
A love so pure even angels envy it, Sweet like honey,
dripping from the top of my head, capturing the essence of my soul,
in doing so, moulding me and gently teaching me how to feel
A love that completes me and makes me whole. Listen, I dreamt of a love
An unconventional, but familiar kind of love.
One that doesn’t need to conform to what’s supposedly normal
But a carefree kind of love that is not subjected to rules but governed by free will, the will to love.
One that gives me hope and rids me of my burdens and in turn gives me peace and blissful happiness.
A love whose mandate is complete and utter contentment.
An unfamiliar yet pleasant warm feeling, I must confess.
But as the sun wakes to caress my skin in the morning, I slowly realise that it was just a dream, mere expansions of my deepest desires, longing to be fulfilled.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC
this coffee-stained desk knows everything
count back my sins
is new york as afraid to let me go as i am to leave her?
i don't see solace in suburbia,
no i crave her maddening grid
noise never will stop,
dont think it ever did
the symphony that bursts the mind but heals, the speed that tweaks the soul to reveal
on scribbled yellow paper
i want to dance within this frozen may
i'll miss her most in the shards of glass that sing back the worst of yesterday
in everyday
the light, the dark;
the lovers, children in park
we're all the same as we dance on
just different way into One
lilac expansions of this holy bronx sky
stealing breath,
kissing death;
to love is to try
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
I am hungry.
If it weren't for toxicities,
I'd swallow the change in my pockets.
Will I ever fill myself?
My expansions seem to be dimming.
I will remain empty forever.
My neglect is my biggest regret.
I argue and I am prone to loss.
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 4:45 AM UTC