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"exponential" poems
By the sill sit still; Listen to the wash on the roof; Specks and sheets form a symphony so complete to hush you quiet, Even still. An inundation. This libation to parched earth has been a meditation since birth; to ponder under the pitter-patter hiss and swish of exponential scales At the wrongness of raindrops in a sunbeam. Sit still, brood like the clouds that came to darken a June day, so silent they gathered over a land hard with memory, With fear for passing years and worries that grew like weeds in summer showers. Brief as thought these drops like jewels are set ablaze then strike the dirt; done. They flash for an instant in time, with no way back to an azure sky. There is no telling the distance, How high these clouds climb. Just the sound of falling rain, Listen.
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Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
Summer Showers
I planted a mango seed, Hoping? Not sure what... But the mango grew Out of its context, Poked shiny green leaves Looking for sun and surf, But found itself awakened In a land of snow and cold. Seven leaves into its Exponential Mango growth, The newest leaf Yellowed... Shriveled... Died. The Minnesota Mango Meditates now... Watered, but waiting.... Slumbering? Planning a spring break? Meditating? Waiting for summer sun? Perhaps.... Today I heard about A neighbor boy Who smuggled in A baby alligator From the Bayou, South and warm. At least my Mango Stays inside its Crockery planter, And an alligator jail break Will leave him Freezing in his tracks... We'll see what happens In the summer.
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Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 5:21 PM UTC
Mangoes and Alligators
Seething injustice grows Vineyard with deep deceiving roots Exponential expansion Bears insidious fruits Don’t water the crops Don’t eat a single grape Don’t drink the wine Bring to fiery waste
0
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Vineyards of Injustice
Ebola, coming from the Continent of our roots The WHO is exhausted by your contagion Nurses are leaving their posts, doctors are dying What can contain exponential growth? Not the money and debts of this bankrupt America We print more money and expect The world to stay the same, but it won’t Not after you Ebola, a profit mechanism Vaccines, for each strain and mutation? Ebola, your incubation period is too long Your death-conformity is too high How can you possibly be natural? Man-made, racially biased, targeting The weak, the poor, the masses Ebola, a colonial rampage in your DNA I call your bluff, genocide, Genocide! Obama doesn’t mind Ebola, flights stay open New epicenters for outbreaks arrive The pundits say it’s already too late Fluids or air-droplets, both, who is to say? The CDC seems strangely apathetic The UN is oddly apologetic Ebola, are you ready to decimate The white man, as you have the black?
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
Ebola, Puppet of Propaganda
Now, I'll wisk away responsibility without commitment in the name of art out of me out of this room and now, here I am. There are walls around me and inside these walls are liquid dreams and changing colors and warm light, flight, loud secrets, and love! And impression, upon impression, upon impression, upon exponential impression creates something very different from what it started as. But who's to say it's less real?
0
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
impressions
while there at 26 other people present in this room, i feel alone; or at least my mind has convinced me that i am. either way, it's nice i suppose. and i can't really focus on anything but do i really want to? i could honestly not care less whether Graph B is steeper than Graph A and how it has an equation of -2x-2. i don't care if it's a linear quadratic exponential or cubic root equation all i can seem to care about at this moment in time is you you keep trying to bust your way into my head and make a reservation like i have extra room. NEWSFLASH: i don't. but somehow, someway, you have made your way in. and i don't think you don't plan on leaving.
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
please leave.
The complexity of coupling is an exponential increase. No matter how perturbed life may be, we strive to linearize it, thank you Laplace. You transform us. It is integral to simplify life. Like Da Vinci, Like Thoreau: “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” “Our life is frittered away by detail…simplify, simplify” Let us not differentiate between the good or the bad                          the high or the low. Life is too brief to quantify, qualify, and compare it to others. It is yours alone. Embrace the change over time.
0
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
Mathematical Life
You are evolving mystery exquisite vexing partner exponential... all potential streams through you and back through you returns No matter the illusion we dance with you
0
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
Unknown
I have been told that a love left untouched will never disappear; that because the corrosive oils from our fingertips have not dissolved its coloring, it will, theoretically, endure perpetually. This love, left in its shrink-wrap casing, looming over the heads of the meek and the caustic feels like a scarlet letter hidden behind the robe, a feeling so foul none are to know but, Oh, what if it begins to fester, there in the moist dark? This worry had been sitting in my stomach, churning with the bile and swallowed blood, coming up acid in my throat; I could feel it radiating out. Thought: it must be nuclear, must be radioactive and glowing, eating through me one layer at a time, but love –this uranium longing– has a half-life. When first the reaction began it boiled and popped like lye on skin, singed off my eyelids so I could not help but see it there. I found myself woozy from the fumes, a high I had never experienced before so I inhaled, let it torch my lungs and leave me gagging. My hair began to fall out. I was soggy from the chemotherapy, tried pumping this bitterness into my bloodstream to remove the evil that already existed there, unaware that they were the same entity. It could not survive on a diet of itself and obsession, and so it began waning. An exponential decay, the intensity of this passion varying directly with the frequency of contact and inversely with time, yet it will never be gone, entirely. It will decrease incrementally every time I say good bye, every time I see scarred knuckles, every time I want and he does not. I have counted the days since the day I counted on him and he was accountable and the number is growing larger and getting more difficult to remember. I have scribbled it onto scraps of paper and it has only browned the edges, no longer burns all the way through, and this love –this radium affair– has been losing its toxicity.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
Isotopes
I have been told that a love left untouched will never disappear; that because the corrosive oils from our fingertips have not dissolved its coloring, it will, theoretically, endure perpetually. This love, left in its shrink-wrap casing, looming over the heads of the meek and the caustic feels like a scarlet letter hidden behind the robe, a feeling so foul none are to know but, Oh, what if it begins to fester, there in the moist dark? This worry had been sitting in my stomach, churning with the bile and swallowed blood, coming up acid in my throat; I could feel it radiating out. Thought: it must be nuclear, must be radioactive and glowing, eating through me one layer at a time, but love –this uranium longing– has a half-life. When first the reaction began it boiled and popped like lye on skin, singed off my eyelids so I could not help but see it there. I found myself woozy from the fumes, a high I had never experienced before so I inhaled, let it torch my lungs and leave me gagging. My hair began to fall out. I was soggy from the chemotherapy, tried pumping this bitterness into my bloodstream to remove the evil that already existed there, unaware that they were the same entity. It could not survive on a diet of itself and obsession, and so it began waning. An exponential decay, the intensity of this passion varying directly with the frequency of contact and inversely with time, yet it will never be gone, entirely. It will decrease incrementally every time I say good bye, every time I see scarred knuckles, every time I want and he does not. I have counted the days since the day I counted on him and he was accountable and the number is growing larger and getting more difficult to remember. I have scribbled it onto scraps of paper and it has only browned the edges, no longer burns all the way through, and this love –this radium affair– has been losing its toxicity.
Continue reading...
4
Glacier, Flake Time Crystal Collective Mass Gravity, Flow Breaking Celibate Monastic Oath In This Cathedral Tower Bedrock Cracking Groans Moans Under Exponential Cave Crush Crevasse Plowing Scoring Tearing Mush Melt Calving Diving Block By Block Headlong Into Wave Reflecting Clouds.
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Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 9:04 PM UTC
Glacier
A rotating wheel. Turning an axle. Grinding. Bolthead. Linear gearbox. Falling sky. Seven holy stakes. A docked ship. A portal to another world. A thin rope tied to a thick rope. A torn harness. Parabolic gearbox. Expanding universe. Time controlled by slipping cogwheels. Existence of God. Swimming with open water in all directions. Drowning. A prayer written in blood. A prayer written in time-devouring snakes with human eyes. A thread connecting all living human eyes. A kaleidoscope of holy stakes. Exponential gearbox. A sky of exploding stars. God disproving the existence of God. A wheel rotating in six dimensions. Forty gears and a ticking clock. A clock that ticks one second for every rotation of the planet. A clock that ticks forty times every time it ticks every second time. A bolthead of holy stakes tied to the existence of a docked ship to another world. A kaleidoscope of blood written in clocks. A time-devouring prayer connecting a sky of forty gears and open human eyes in all directions. Breathing gearbox. Breathing bolthead. Breathing ship. Breathing portal. Breathing snakes. Breathing God. Breathing blood. Breathing holy stakes. Breathing human eyes. Breathing time. Breathing prayer. Breathing sky. Breathing wheel.
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 8:43 PM UTC
Wheel (DDLC)
Something about you makes me smile Something about you makes me dance awhile Something about you brightens my day Something about you makes me feel special in every way Something about you gives me comfort in the dark Something about you makes me hit my mark Something about you inspires a part of me Something about you just makes me free Something about you when I'm lost gives hope Something about you feels like a safety rope Something about you is making me write this song Something about you I knew all along Something about you when I'm steamed is cool Something about you keeps me working like fuel Something about you just makes me believe Something about you helps me to receive Something about you strikes me exponential Something about you says great potential Something about you seems like a miracle Something about you is almost lyrical Something about you is one and only Something about you feels almost homely Something about you fills me with great awe Something about you is strong like a claw Something about you is special and sweet Something about you is undoubtedly neat Together we are strong alone w are weak
0
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
Something About You
~for the one who will know it was written for her~ muddy verb and adjective, muddling and muddled have you ever seen a pas de deux/deluxe, one dancer, proscriptive, and her partner, prescriptive? the stage, of course, exactly the width of your head, from ear to shining ear this couple o’muses dance en concert, though their very natures are anti-logarithmic, the value of their exponential activity is a descriptive nomenclature I am overly abstruse this Saturday morn, mushing mathematics and ballet, verbal word games as is my wont wanted, everyone sleeping while I rise at 6am, doing ablutions, seeking absolution, pulling weeds from our respective gardens, answering old friends I have yet to meet, to whom I answer, “still here, though long time no see,” which is of course hysterical funny, inherently contradictory, as the brain grasps well my Red and Dead Sea brain cells, a splitting motif muddling and muddled, proscribed from getting on transport, to deliver to you the proper healing prescriptive, as if I had in my possess to diagnosis and correctly assess even though one of my many passport names, a requirement, to visit, this inter-netting ether, that both combines and separates, permits me safe passage, over the historical lineage of borderlines of land and sea, to deliver this message, to you woman *I am here, waiting patiently, though long time no see like ever, absentia, dementia, both self-censure: here, then, my cadenza, dedicated solely soulfully for you, as the sabbath sun rises over the East River, saying, laughing unto me, “still here, though long time no see,” for though I cannot look upon her, my sun, my sun, my son, yet she, as well, is everywhere-inside of me, warmly illuminating my muddled mind*
0
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 7:57 AM UTC
still here (long time no see)
~for the one who will know it was written for her~ muddy verb and adjective, muddling and muddled have you ever seen a pas de deux/deluxe, one dancer, proscriptive, and her partner, prescriptive? the stage, of course, exactly the width of your head, from ear to shining ear this couple o’muses dance en concert, though their very natures are anti-logarithmic, the value of their exponential activity is a descriptive nomenclature I am overly abstruse this Saturday morn, mushing mathematics and ballet, verbal word games as is my wont wanted, everyone sleeping while I rise at 6am, doing ablutions, seeking absolution, pulling weeds from our respective gardens, answering old friends I have yet to meet, to whom I answer, “still here, though long time no see,” which is of course hysterical funny, inherently contradictory, as the brain grasps well my Red and Dead Sea brain cells, a splitting motif muddling and muddled, proscribed from getting on transport, to deliver to you the proper healing prescriptive, as if I had in my possess to diagnosis and correctly assess even though one of my many passport names, a requirement, to visit, this inter-netting ether, that both combines and separates, permits me safe passage, over the historical lineage of borderlines of land and sea, to deliver this message, to you woman *I am here, waiting patiently, though long time no see like ever, absentia, dementia, both self-censure: here, then, my cadenza, dedicated solely soulfully for you, as the sabbath sun rises over the East River, saying, laughing unto me, “still here, though long time no see,” for though I cannot look upon her, my sun, my sun, my son, yet she, as well, is everywhere-inside of me, warmly illuminating my muddled mind*
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53
Prahu opines re the mathematics of love Her equations hypotenuse me, So I write adjacently, As if we were cosine functionalities. A special formula, A Hyperbolic Cosine, For to equate love mathematically, We must use verbal hyperbole. Binomials,  the pair of loves, Coefficient Trekkers, On the mountains of waves, To a product infinite. So let us, Reductio ad absurdum That love is pointless. Nah, nope. Love is the point on a curve that never stops moving, Even as the curve forever, bending And the possibilities, Exponential... In the sums of love, The finite answer is always two. So let us be clear, This exercise has made me late For work, For which I express my appreciation as follows: X = xo, Or Summation Expansion e e= 1 / n! = 1/1 + 1/1 + 1/2 + 1/6 + ... see constant e e -1 = (-1) n / n! = 1/1 - 1/1 + 1/2 - 1/6 + ... e x = xn / n! = 1/1 + x/1 + x2 / 2 + x3 / 6 + ...
0
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC
Prahu opines re the mathematics of love
I must admit that I am bored. Utterly bored, actually, with the overly romanticized construct of dominance. How easily one can claim to be dominant. Shocking? No. We as human beings aspire to attain the intangible. Exponential wealth. Immortality. Fame. Power. We live in a world of illusion and fallacy. We drive cars that we can’t afford, often to jobs that we despise. We attain validation through the media, from blasé people that require it in return. What I have found- and take this for what you will, is that my longing for external dominance is simply a translation for “By god please take control, and ground me to something real.”
0
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
Beat Me in Your Bentley
Inferno, exponential flame tearing at the world until all that’s left is it’s name from the dust and gravel arise the youth on revolutionary wings of marble only for the glorious resurgence to become fallen angels engulfing the world that they had wished to save in earnest
0
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
Cycle
Defining Lego Moment? What is that, I don’t own one! Life growing up was unacceptable – it was chemical and dispensable My life has never been a bed-and-breakfast - early childhood memories got me ill and susceptible Tryin’ to find a good early childhood memory is like NOT passing “the test”, because I wasn’t in class. So I ask, what’s next? Defining moments were replaced by worries and doubts, fears and shouts My, oh my, why couldn’t I have been brought up in someone else’s house?   I’m just me. So why can’t anyone see I’ve got dreams I want to turn into reality? I know, maybe I’m adopted! Oh, I could only wish that I belonged to a different home So who knows, maybe I’m supposed to grow old in a world where survival is at the core of my bones Future me, I hope that you see, I’m not like them, nor do I ever want to be “like them” -----------------Fast forward to today --------------------- I thank GOD for the life I was given and the road that was driven I’m here because of those dreams which started out as fears - I’m what I am because of those years I know that I wouldn’t’ be here if it wasn’t for those days of dysfunction and tears I’m at a junction in my life - I’ve realized that my unction in life is an exponential function that shines like a bright light My tears have been replaced with people who are sincere and true I no longer have to worry about the black and blue, now I can simply wave ado… So I chose to become not what I saw, but what I knew was right in my heart. I leaned on God and learned from stressful nights that choosing the road less taken was all part of this plight And here we are today…. Now, what does this say, about me? It says that I’m a child of Destiny, not a child of Disney It says that I’m a child of God not a child of the Devil It says that I am… Predestined presently, sensibly created even though I didn’t come from the best pedigree...
0
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
Defining Lego Moment [Slam Poetry]
Defining Lego Moment? What is that, I don’t own one! Life growing up was unacceptable – it was chemical and dispensable My life has never been a bed-and-breakfast - early childhood memories got me ill and susceptible Tryin’ to find a good early childhood memory is like NOT passing “the test”, because I wasn’t in class. So I ask, what’s next? Defining moments were replaced by worries and doubts, fears and shouts My, oh my, why couldn’t I have been brought up in someone else’s house?   I’m just me. So why can’t anyone see I’ve got dreams I want to turn into reality? I know, maybe I’m adopted! Oh, I could only wish that I belonged to a different home So who knows, maybe I’m supposed to grow old in a world where survival is at the core of my bones Future me, I hope that you see, I’m not like them, nor do I ever want to be “like them” -----------------Fast forward to today --------------------- I thank GOD for the life I was given and the road that was driven I’m here because of those dreams which started out as fears - I’m what I am because of those years I know that I wouldn’t’ be here if it wasn’t for those days of dysfunction and tears I’m at a junction in my life - I’ve realized that my unction in life is an exponential function that shines like a bright light My tears have been replaced with people who are sincere and true I no longer have to worry about the black and blue, now I can simply wave ado… So I chose to become not what I saw, but what I knew was right in my heart. I leaned on God and learned from stressful nights that choosing the road less taken was all part of this plight And here we are today…. Now, what does this say, about me? It says that I’m a child of Destiny, not a child of Disney It says that I’m a child of God not a child of the Devil It says that I am… Predestined presently, sensibly created even though I didn’t come from the best pedigree...
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building purist æsthetic proselytizing solar-powered heliolatry commemorating historic concert sensing dark forces fokken lekker antwoord pumping sensory overload featuring high-tech dee-jay admiring gelato micro-truck laxing laying lazing "doing something nasty" continuing quality content entering another cathedral journeying without borders "exactly one year since visiting vatican" appreciating full-time gigasphere awaiting pyongyang performance depicting unlikely crowdsurfer foreseeing exponential improvements furthering esoteric agenda sensing profound incompatibility data-mining people's infidelities anticipating futuristic caffeine perfecting invisible propaganda researching mind-control techniques polishing psycho-social weaponry sensing social embargo flourishing frantic fanfare admiring longitudinal monument parodying marketing slogans cycling through österreich eyeing dystopian disneyland streaming crosswords extended-play herding glass kittens deleting idiosyncratic fragment loremipsum-ing laconic loudmouth receiving ultramodern telegram eigo-ga wakarimasu ka? guzzling duck-fat fries encouraging panic selling (juxtaposing past incarnations) getting black-and-white privilege renewing boutique account relishing cinema poutine re-entering hibernation mode opening old windows continuing zoo motif absquatulating excessive excesses nullifying originality claims proliferating protean persona disappearing sidewalk alphabet shrugging opprobrious moments enjoying vertical alignment re-entering cyberpunk paradise approaching island sun soaring beyond monoliths trivializing extraneous argy-bargy decreasing character limits dumping generic accounts uglifying commit message escaping into idiosyncracy moonshining great lake exuding idiosyncratic propaganda living nineties' dreams making occidental cuisine envisioning idiocratic president expropriating your time ascending homely helix singing fat lady
0
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
201508-h2
building purist æsthetic proselytizing solar-powered heliolatry commemorating historic concert sensing dark forces fokken lekker antwoord pumping sensory overload featuring high-tech dee-jay admiring gelato micro-truck laxing laying lazing "doing something nasty" continuing quality content entering another cathedral journeying without borders "exactly one year since visiting vatican" appreciating full-time gigasphere awaiting pyongyang performance depicting unlikely crowdsurfer foreseeing exponential improvements furthering esoteric agenda sensing profound incompatibility data-mining people's infidelities anticipating futuristic caffeine perfecting invisible propaganda researching mind-control techniques polishing psycho-social weaponry sensing social embargo flourishing frantic fanfare admiring longitudinal monument parodying marketing slogans cycling through österreich eyeing dystopian disneyland streaming crosswords extended-play herding glass kittens deleting idiosyncratic fragment loremipsum-ing laconic loudmouth receiving ultramodern telegram eigo-ga wakarimasu ka? guzzling duck-fat fries encouraging panic selling (juxtaposing past incarnations) getting black-and-white privilege renewing boutique account relishing cinema poutine re-entering hibernation mode opening old windows continuing zoo motif absquatulating excessive excesses nullifying originality claims proliferating protean persona disappearing sidewalk alphabet shrugging opprobrious moments enjoying vertical alignment re-entering cyberpunk paradise approaching island sun soaring beyond monoliths trivializing extraneous argy-bargy decreasing character limits dumping generic accounts uglifying commit message escaping into idiosyncracy moonshining great lake exuding idiosyncratic propaganda living nineties' dreams making occidental cuisine envisioning idiocratic president expropriating your time ascending homely helix singing fat lady
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69
Shade giving Sentinels Custodians of the environment Infusing oxygenated life Extending canopies of bliss! A fine interplay of synthesising solar photons Food factories to the plant Self sustainable gifts from the Almighty God! Bemoan Human apathy Fragile relations with humankind Exponential signs of human induced Ecocide! Oh Humankind! Oh Humankind! Wake up to a Nature’s clarion call Embrace Mother Earths Sentinels Tree Huggers of the World Unite in Unison and Eco harmony Save Trees! Save Trees! Cherish God’s Nature Permeate Environmental Euphony Demolish reckless Infrastructural Cacophony !!! Biospherically Yours Forever 🙏🏻 @Nitin Raikar
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Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 2:31 PM UTC
Nature’s Sentinels
Here lies a continuation of being. View it as scenery indifferent to the weather channel. A silent, exponential inverted sunshine euphoria Warming the deepest letters of the soul: U and I swaying outside linear cubic conventions corroded- We sway like flowering Earth Resonance blooming as foreign [Sensations] A toe-curling in the chest stretched intimate at the highest hour [Movement] An unconditional syncopation of the heart and mind echoing a Design as Liquid Resonance - I am that which you are. “I could cry solid tears. Where have I been all these years,” says You to reflected I rippling [Perception] Never spoken, only written as an abstract entity aware of vibrations Tethered to timeless stories never read, only felt as I and U in Reflected them, the missing strangers with a need to be found [Immortalized] Twisted eyes, encumbered lips, everflowing knitted letters stuttered. Kissed. Growing from itself a rehearsed mantra embroidered pattern discord. Mythical. The murmuration of a serenade’s evil dermis that feigns thick to tooth and claw, but silences to love as the overture. Wide-eyed, you and I are a nascent reprise of words cloaked in inked pages turning in the billowing wind. "Read them to me." So I read in heavy rain. From Monday to Sunday.
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Murmuration.
Edifice erections surreal mistic heights Wayward excursions and catenary's bight Communal collusions of harmonies site Ethereal subsistence on exsertion's light Lingam and yoni are indefatigably tight Exponential overload was communities plight Semantic regalia is myriad temptation Finite being a mutual oblation Vicarious recalcitrance an obeisant sensation Conception's vastness like incalculable equation   Ephemeral effulgence is indomitable pervasion Treacherous traverse and eternal occasion Succinct salience is symbiotic allegory Fecundity's verve a transcendent promontory Imperative ascension the conjunctive's divinatory Audacity's exigence and fertility's invocatory Erotica's erectile like mentality's trajectory Futurity's fatidic and inherent delusory **** it fell right over like categorical imperative's contradictory
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Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
Resurrecting the Tower of Babel
dry fire, dry ice, quiet liar, quiet mice, rendered humble, rendered missile, sharp rumble, sharp thistle, total jarhead, total ******* something guarded, something makeshift, fastened underneath, fastened monopoly, melting dragonsbreath, melting catastrophe,
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Exponential Rhyme
He is an exponential function. Small rate of change at the beginning, But he grows fast when he reaches a certain age.      I am a function of a straight line. A big constant slope since the beginning, But I also have a y-intercept way bigger than zero.      Let our age be the inputs, And our maturity be the outputs. At year zero, We didn’t know each other. We didn’t know we would cross each other one day.        We have been working so hard. We have been living in different countries. We were like two parallel lines, Which would never meet each other.      But at year 20 for me, And at year 30 for him, We finally crossed each other, And we were smart enough to find our intersection.        We are still growing into different directions, Because that probably will be our only intersection. But we only need that one intersection, Because we are all independent now. We don’t need other people to input data anymore.
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
Find the Intersection of Two Functions
Echoes of living All time inside the present Complex and simple Complex and simple Novelty exponential As it always is As it always is Forever swells in motion Change is the constant Change is the constant Transformation's here and now I am living death I am living death Death is living manifest Born from the ceasing Born from the ceasing Constantly falling into The grave of presence The grave of presence Is the garden evermore A fullness profound A fullness profound More than can ever be known Felt here through being Felt here through being All at once liberated Freedom this moment Freedom this moment My breath invites exchanging Interdependence Interdependence Everything's brought to life By spirals self spun By spirals self spun There is nothing I am not No one that I am No one that I am I am existence alone I the paradox I the paradox A mirror in a mirror Echoes of living
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Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
Echoes of Living (a contemplative haiku loop)
I sat behind the barricade between the street, the bar, and the park overlooking that glistening pause-asteric of the water... my phone was clamped closed at zero battery life so I was alone with the city and the city was alone with me. as subtly as I could, I pulled my pipe from the bottom of my over-encumbered backpack satiated with 6 books (and they tell me knowledge is power, but they'll probably just drive me insane with question after question after question because the study of the world is one in which the brain falls victim to exponential growth 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256) MY SKULL ISN'T BIG ENOUGH I couldn't find my grinder, so I tore the bud by hand. More than half a nug was spent, pushed solid in place like a **** mound about to reach apocalyptic ****** thanks to the soft clitoral bonfire of a red Bic lighter. blaze, set, and fade til you rise again little stoner boy.
0
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
self-anthropology