"extrapolate" poems
In this trigonometric love equation
You're my arcsin,
You're my special angle,
Secretly placed
In that unit circle of feelings.
You may arrange my major arcs and diameters
Inside of it
Perfectly triangular,
Love will always have
The same ratio pi.
Our equation of love
Is seemingly incompatible.
It has philosophical numbers becoming
Common geometric shapes
Of love itself
Like hidden spheres
In triangles,
But in real terms of graphing
Our parallel lines of life
Went on forever not crossing at any point
Of this imperfect world.
Our love is, in fact,
A complex system of equations
With the same set of three unknowns
Searching their own values
It has a narrative statement.
You're my C.
You're mister C,
From c'telzing
From caleptikide
And from cataguerrillaism,
In this beautiful madness of love.
You know, our love is getting old
In concentric circles,
Those circles of time.
Extrapolate it to infinity, sweetheart,
You may be my semi-infinity
Until the end of the time,
That semi-infinity,
In which I lose myself
From time to time
Each time coming
From the same unique star
As that already existent
In an old Romanian novel,
Which is called
Lorelei.
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 1:47 PM UTC
I should waste more time revising. I feel as though it may benefit me; may I extrapolate the fact I stated waste more time, not spend. I could use that time practicing songs on my bass or beating Mario’s *** on the GameCube. I feel mediocre but that’s okay because I AM mediocre; and a sell-out. I should make that point clear. I smoke; not like a chimney, it depends on if I feel like combusting into a cloud of tobacco ash. I would happily crementate my being. I would happily get hit by a car and become the road **** I would happily fall from a concrete building into a six foot deep cavern. Passive suicidal thoughts at eight in the mourning; just like coffee but it doesn’t make you need to **** Just those bitter moments you need to get your day started on the wrong side of the bed.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
the teacher
expounded on the value of the tree
*“Isaac Newtown
discovered the law of gravity
under an apple tree;
the Buddha gained nirvana
seated under the Bodhi tree
Children -
what can we extrapolate from this?”*
“It’s obvious, teacher,” said a smarty-pants kid
*“class is useless -
for if they’d been seated in a class like us
they’d have remained ignorant”*
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
"All I really need to know about how to live and what to do and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate-school mountain, but there in the sandpile at Sunday School. These are the things I learned. Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life-- learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some. Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that. Goldfish and hamsters and white mice, and even the little seed in the cup-- they all die. So do we. And then remember the Dick-And-Jane books and the first word you learned-- the biggest word of all-- LOOK. Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation. Ecology and politics and equality and sane living. Take any one of those items and extrapolate it into sophisticated adult terms and apply it to your family life or your work or your government or your world and it holds true and clear and firm. Think what a better world it would be if we all--the whole world-- had cookies and milk about three o' clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankies for a nap. Or if all governments had as a basic policy to always put things back where they found them and to clean up their own mess. And it's still true, no matter how old you are-- where you go out into the world, it's best to hold hands and stick together.
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 7:14 PM UTC
Dance in dark
Delight in days
Revel in reality slipping slowly to the gray.
Inky black comfort dripping into haze.
Distraught in denile
Damaged in disdain
Rememberd reason trembeling in shadows to the grave.
Nervous the edge of sanity sinking slowly below the brave.
Cringe in quiet
Crumble in cacophony
Bask in benign indifference to the coming of the fray.
Shape the broken mold into which is squezed the clay.
Form in function
Friction in fruition
Extrapolate from nothing what is real of what is fake.
Drive doom through the heart wooden to the stake.
Damaged and distroyed, disturbed and distrought, this is the friction of the fraught.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
Astutely speaking, we all at some point
Ponder on matters spiritual, the kind
In the realms outside observable phenomena.
Even to some extent, we can’t help
Consulting various spiritual practitioners to
Extrapolate circumstances prevalent in the future.
Otherworldly beauty is not only a matter of
Fascination it’s an obsession too.
Hallowed space in today’s world is
Exceedingly limited, an abundant scarcity
A paucity of meaning attached to it.
Various denominations exist to
Entrench a semblance of piety to counter
A rather stack waywardness.
Neverland, is it real?
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 2:00 AM UTC
What an email,
Can reveal!
Embedded within the message,
What simple words unravel;
From where, and whom, they have traveled!
How much one can extrapolate
From mere more than chatter,
It would be astounding if not frightening
That you can tap out so much
From just dry lightning.
Jun 14, 2023
Jun 14, 2023 at 12:05 PM UTC
For 2 years, we've met, until now, I stop.
Arranging impassion's unpleasentationships
in this 10th year, doubtlessness's equipped
to unveil all of his un-friendship.
I'll leave here.
I leave behind.
I'll leave today-
& wont return.
When you go so far and facetiously thank-
what you know to seek forgiveness for
Your once full words, empty and blank
while guises of gratitude implore.
All the cop outs and shifting blame
To grow up and then blow away again
Us tortured youths, from diamond minds
Extrapolate all that we may find
Worthy, of exchanging for our flesh's time-
Insidiousness perpetuates the implicit crime.
All that's perceived within a pill
Freckled iris, minds eye's staring still
Each kiss, Every smile, im abhorrently ill.
no doctor but witch might placate my will.
May 17, 2025
May 17, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
Self-medicate to keep the hatred down
Self-medicate to keep the ***** down
Self-medicate to keep the sadness down
Self-medicate and pick your poison
pick the one you haven't tried for a newer
buzz
for a newer feeling
for a newer hate
self-medicate, extrapolate
miss yourself and all the hate
because the devil is mine today
the devil is mine today
to do with what I please
self-medicate and fall
a spiral
a helix
something familiar to feel the feelings
something familiar to feel the people cry
self-medicate to feel your mother cry
what am I becoming today, who shall I be
a dashing rogue who doesn't care, someone alone
a dashing rogue at the bottom of an ocean
with a portal to another world where I am normal
where I matter
self-medicate
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
The cigarette I had afterwards
Felt better than every time we had *** combined
Basically,
I'd rather get cancer
If having *** was getting ******
I was drowning in it
But somehow you're okay with me ramming my **** into your skull
And this letter will be the mindfuck
Let me extrapolate
So extra!
pull those sheets off the bed late at night because you made a ******* mess again
And I don't enjoy laying in wet sheets
Because having to hold your head out of the toilet when you threw up from partying like a Highschool sophomore got old pretty ****** quick
And having to be the answer to every problem you had
trying to tell you how to fix it on your own
Was like handing you a loaded pistol, helping you aim at the target,
And then watching you shoot yourself in the foot
If sitcoms were ****** tunes
And you were still too simple to get it
That'd be my favorite ******* show
Until it bursts through the tv screen and moves all its baggage into the room where my writing desk used to be
I can't wait to beat the *** of the love child you thought we had
Shake and wake it up
Tell him the tooth fairy doesn't exist
And no matter how much **** she talks
That he will walk away with less money in the end
And all it will take is a fleshy hole to remind him of her
Your sugar daddy has a cavity
And before I replace it with a tooth wrapped up in a gold ring
I'm pulling you out
I guess you'll know what it feels like now?
Because for every time you made an excuse
I ran around in circles to
made sure you were happy
And when I got to the end of the marathon
You made me take you by the hand and walk to buy you ice cream
“Daddy” is not for grown ups
So don't act like it was serious
All you did was child's play
You wanted me to be a single father who ****** his daughter's brains out every night
And bought her toys whenever she wanted
If that was love
You were a game
And I got played
And.
it's ******* disgusting
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
All of this shouting, but who's to really claim
When we walk around so faceless with nothing to gain
It's just a system to extrapolate your fears
Designed to be destructive, disgusting, and to jeer
Quiet as we sit, appearing only to view
Questioning nothing, we're erupting into something new
It's a victimless society, for we have all chosen consent
As we cry to the TV for what's true, we pray and repent
Blinded by the odds we ebb and bob like a float in water
But the bed is dry, there's nothing to deny, enjoy this job
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
It had been the longest summer of longing in my not so long life I had imagined how you would feel from our ever so innocent beginnings, I was in his car the late august air brushing stray hairs from behind my ear softly on to my cheeks the air like slow warm breaths with undertones of the promised september chill. In the space of forty five minutes I had counted fifteen red cars in the wing mirror. everything in this long wednesday seemed as futile as the war poems in the anthology with the sunset on the cover similarly filtered and dissected to try and extrapolate some kind of meaningless meaning to meaningly satisfy the means which I know full well I do not mean.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
Each and every day I have learned to extrapolate what I have learned from yesterday into a new tomorrow where I can do better by you, for you. I multiply my knowledge by yours and together we soar into this new and untraveled business of becoming something we don’t know how to name just yet, but we already agree is better. I take the effort I know how to give and give it twice, with more intensity and surety than ever before. I will always try harder for you.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
How strange it is to enter a place that is dedicated to taking from the present to provide for the future. Red patterns flow through thick red veins and are extracted through thin tubes. This precious pathway discerns the owner and rushes to the side of another, like a straying lover; pooling, seeping, oozing from fresh orphises. Where it is to go after it leaves me I do not know; what purpose it serves, I understand only vaguely. To spill a drop is to waste a divine gift. How odd it is to be able to give so little and fix so much. How often is one able to extrapolate potential in such a unique way.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
Two guys drowned in my backyard... a month and a half ago. At first I thought I would process it spiritually, and I tried:
sitting shiva on the dock
reading tim leary’s book of the dead
writing poetry while they were in the bardo
But their death has become a social metaphor.
A transitional event, transitional like:
covid
the recession
and 9/11
They are Boys Forever
Even though they were both men, and brothers aged 26 and 30, they are frozen forever, anywhere before their death. they are the 90s and 2000s, and most importantly the 2010s, but definitely not the 20s.
So, I swirl my callused toes around in the water’s particles wondering what pieces of them may be left behind from before they fished the bodies out. I wonder, what those pieces saw, what secrets those pieces saw, when, if ever those pieces were loved.
People extrapolate theories as to how a day of causal boating could result in the senseless death of two brothers, letting their phobia’s and traumas project upon the event ie;
“they were doped up”
“they were fighting”
“they were drunk”
Why can’t we just let them be mythic?
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 7:57 PM UTC
So what is it that brings you to my words...
To stack them and pluck them into your life like little bricks
To grind them and hold them and mold them until they work for you
What is it that I say that you need to hear...
To extrapolate my intent and humanize your fear
Why should it be me whom lay naked my soul...
So you can clothe bareness in your life and once again feel whole.
Why must I eviscerate experience and gut my past...
So you’ll have meaning in yours and love that might last
Why must I shake and tremble and grind my teeth...
And shed tears over someone I’m still waiting to meet
Why can’t I now lean upon you...
And hide behind your walls and bury my truth
And will you be there when I can’t hold on...
And I need someone else’s words to help me along
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 7:01 AM UTC
This morn
freshly purchased
provisions
called my name
Cravings
swiftly soured
as all hands
came up empty
multiple theories
Extrapolate
the likelihood
that they
didn’t walk away
Alone
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
For the general good of life, and that more abundantly, you must pay attention to little things.
Unseen things.
Time compression is essential for even the briefest of glimpses, mere blinks,
A wink,
and what threatened Nihilation of the finest realities imagined so far, is nothing.
**** Again.
"there are universes
where eons go by in the blink of an eye". Somebody said.
Bubbling universes each able to open itself to the first level bubble, your bubble with everything you know in there with you. And, today, me.
"indisputable fact, there was / is a first bubble, light fills it to the brim
and what happens there touches
all, and I am,
in a word, part of that
First bubble kingdom"
Every desire of your heart he delights in.
There is such a universe, before you think or ask,
and you are sort of quantum bonded to your heart's desires, y'know,
hearts and minds, body and soul, 2 different systems.
Entangled.
Breathe.
You know.
Soulish desires disciplined in disciples
found blood washed hearts,
unlimited.
Extrapolate this. How much blood is in the ocean now?
More than you can think or ask.
You believe the first thinker thought you would
appreciate a path to each and all of your heart's desires, one path,
or you never find the way, no matter how you look. ?
Ya gotta beli've it to see it
Be li've
Ya gotta wan'it
Jah praise first bubble knocking
you b just one wall away
step into alpha thought and proceed to the omega thought,
Copy?
Respond.
This is the narrow way.
The old way, where good is. You found it, walk it.
It's in beta, so you can fail. Life ain't fair, its jest
okeh, ever how we lie and say this jest
cain't real-ish-tic
be, don't make me no nevahmind.
life and light, those two team up and kick ***
evil gets all turned around, ****** if it don't. then
The peacemakers rest, the meek inherit the earth
and everything goes back to normal.
Moral: believe no lie is of, in, by or for actual truth,
you know. Take it as a test.
Like changing your own air filter, in the realm of ideas,
you change your error filter when ever it
seems you jest cain't breathe. You can change that
****** error filter and hit any dusty trail
that seems right, as far as I can tell.
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC
today was yesterday and they lied about tomorrow.
it doesn't exist. just like you.
you are only one thing in a world of hatred recklessness.
you were never planned. you are nothing. let me make it clear.
i don't want you to think that you got it easy. because you didn't.
no-one ever does. its a myth of constellations in the sky.
i want. * don't say it * it breaks people and keeps them in eternal darkness. you are asking for something they can't extrapolate from themselves.
what are you going to take from this. nothing.
you fit. thats all you need to know. you certainly don't fit in. but you fit. within a world of your own.
because of me. i wanted it to be perfect. it wasnt. it never will. and this is now my punishment.
take it from me.
yours sincerely,
past
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 6:38 AM UTC
two flower boys
thorns penetrated when interlaced
its fate, its truth
two flower boys born to bloom
pain brought birth
painful to let go of what you knew
carefully to prove you grew
plant your seeds within my dirt
extrapolate the course
two flower boys should not divorce
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 1:52 AM UTC
A whisper of genius heard
Or phantom in my periphery
Ever stalking me
Each time I guess their meaning
Each time I try
The spirits cry...
extrapolate and you castrate
exonerate and you evaporate
say it once more and it's dead
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
The sides of my teeth
Are one bigger than the other.
Saturn mouth is this
Hardto extrapolate with
When I tasted
Soggy combination
We tied a ribbon.
My fleshy hands down your
Sides; its done.
Condensed milk it were
For the beacons I bowed
Curled to the side you
Is it good
Replacements, mirrors, echoed
Boxes: hot over hangings in my
Fishhook. I cant stop hurting
I cannot stop
Hurting my little loves.
My protectors.
She rocked me and took my milk.
Infused the dirt I had a muddy muddy
Wishes. The big rock
Hands placed silence in heart and leap I was always always fingers warped or
Wrapped into cloudy chalky bark.
Skin! She knows the cycles I was
Cyclical and unknown.
Little crossed out tiny
Arms of the creatures I knew to be me.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC