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"extremity" poems
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.   As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
0
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
toreinss-pinwinkel-iii
Glyph
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.   As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
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6
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary, Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready. Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.     Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty. It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity. It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility. There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery. Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly. Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
0
May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 12:59 PM UTC
damian-murphy
Recovery....
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary, Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready. Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.     Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty. It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity. It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility. There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery. Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly. Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
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19
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
toreinss-pinwinkel-iii
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
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18
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty That Lever cannot pry— And Wedge cannot divide Conviction—That Granitic Base— Though None be on our Side— Suffice Us—for a Crowd— Ourself—and Rectitude— And that Assembly—not far off From furthest Spirit—God—
0
5.3k
Emily Dickinson
On a Columnar Self
789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty That Lever cannot pry— And Wedge cannot divide Conviction—That Granitic Base— Though None be on our Side— Suffice Us—for a Crowd— Ourself—and Rectitude— And that Assembly—not far off From furthest Spirit—God—
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13
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience . As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation .  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor .   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
0
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
toreinss-pinwinkel-iii
Glyph
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience . As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .   The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms . Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus . Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation .  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor .   In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
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6
The purest sense of understanding that allows two hearts to move beyond the borders of the conscious, thinking mind. Without the thoughts that twist the words, that distort perception; what is conveyed, is... is... unconditional acceptance and love. In this simple concept we find solace, we find connection, we reach the precipice of and stare in awe at the beauty of the humane soul. Everything seems perfect.   By this perfection, given face value, we draw the ever permanent distinction between what what is black and what is white; what is wrong and what is right; what is virtue and what is moral travesty. For inherent to humanity is the eagerness, bias  and extremity with which we represent the good and evil of this world. For who would believe that the "caretaker", wrought of good intentions, could be soiled in his actions?   The caretaker that empathizes with the troubled or broken soul is a testament to the honesty of a human heart; but he who enables others with his empathy becomes not the caretaker, but the "jailer". Through his conviction to ALWAYS be there, to sooth the hurts, to understand the pains and to maintain control... by those actions, he belittles them. The relief of empathy is only temporary. Empathy does not enact change, it is mere salve and bandage, it quells the aches for but a moment. And when they return, in their woes, the service of the empathizer becomes requirement.   For though empathy may be needed, with the power to forge a bond of deep understanding, its indiscriminate use only stunts. Personal growth, it is found by many paths in this world. We must grow and mature; let others do the same. Life is a journey with many opportunities but also many hardships, we are defined by these. If we are stunted by the empathy of others, in their quest to protect us, we will never grow, never achieve that which is greater, and never leave our "prison".   Virtue or vice... once again in the hands of the beholder.
0
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 2:04 PM UTC
tyler-drapeau
Empathy
The purest sense of understanding that allows two hearts to move beyond the borders of the conscious, thinking mind. Without the thoughts that twist the words, that distort perception; what is conveyed, is... is... unconditional acceptance and love. In this simple concept we find solace, we find connection, we reach the precipice of and stare in awe at the beauty of the humane soul. Everything seems perfect.   By this perfection, given face value, we draw the ever permanent distinction between what what is black and what is white; what is wrong and what is right; what is virtue and what is moral travesty. For inherent to humanity is the eagerness, bias  and extremity with which we represent the good and evil of this world. For who would believe that the "caretaker", wrought of good intentions, could be soiled in his actions?   The caretaker that empathizes with the troubled or broken soul is a testament to the honesty of a human heart; but he who enables others with his empathy becomes not the caretaker, but the "jailer". Through his conviction to ALWAYS be there, to sooth the hurts, to understand the pains and to maintain control... by those actions, he belittles them. The relief of empathy is only temporary. Empathy does not enact change, it is mere salve and bandage, it quells the aches for but a moment. And when they return, in their woes, the service of the empathizer becomes requirement.   For though empathy may be needed, with the power to forge a bond of deep understanding, its indiscriminate use only stunts. Personal growth, it is found by many paths in this world. We must grow and mature; let others do the same. Life is a journey with many opportunities but also many hardships, we are defined by these. If we are stunted by the empathy of others, in their quest to protect us, we will never grow, never achieve that which is greater, and never leave our "prison".   Virtue or vice... once again in the hands of the beholder.
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6
city in the shadow of a mountain like denver on vacation shady and deep flowing down like the river seeking centre houses cling to the crags like barnacles inverted ship cavity jutting out of the rainforest paradise of truants and travellers eternally in transit to islands and misfit fringes, cold floors and warm couches and displaced ***** enthusiasts sailors without floatation treading land and bills and PTA meetings cast off travellers on their way to golden gates or northern lights rivers under troubled bridges fish suffocating underwater living on the refuse of the nuclear generation transmuting the lead into sustainable energy recycling the atmosphere into breathable air apathetic anarchists return from extremity living on the dole or working for the man we are building something greater than this
0
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
adamstruble
bridges
city in the shadow of a mountain like denver on vacation shady and deep flowing down like the river seeking centre houses cling to the crags like barnacles inverted ship cavity jutting out of the rainforest paradise of truants and travellers eternally in transit to islands and misfit fringes, cold floors and warm couches and displaced ***** enthusiasts sailors without floatation treading land and bills and PTA meetings cast off travellers on their way to golden gates or northern lights rivers under troubled bridges fish suffocating underwater living on the refuse of the nuclear generation transmuting the lead into sustainable energy recycling the atmosphere into breathable air apathetic anarchists return from extremity living on the dole or working for the man we are building something greater than this
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23
254 “Hope” is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I’ve heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me.
0
5.2k
Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
254 “Hope” is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I’ve heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me.
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13
**** serenely amid the surround-sound system and break the sound barrier and remember what *** appeal there may be in celibacy. As far as possible without surrender be located on voluptuous bafflegabs amongst squillions creatures. Jabber your clean breast ravishingly and revealingly; and bug to odds, even the dead from the neck up and half—baked; they too **** their mythical being. Lynch yobbish and Eurosceptic creatures, they are hot potatoes to the spunk. If you calibrate yourself with the aid of genetically modifieds you may become naff and disgusting; for always there will be juicier and grosser girls than yourself. Fuck your bear and ragged staffs as well as your carcasses. Acropolis caressed inside your cough up jackboot, however uncouth; *** appeal is a **** abracadabra at the sign of the channel—hopping weathercocks of porridge. Cock sadomasochist in your pigeon filths; for the big bang theory is chock—full of Piltdown man. Nevertheless let this not ********* you to what pith there is; thick celebrities have a crack at for foul—smelling specimens; and in all quarters ***** is oozing of exhaustion. Touch yourself. To cap it all **** not ape where the shoe pinches. Neither be cheeky about ****** ergo chez the ******* type of oodles menopause and double whammy schoolgirl complexion is as shrinkproof as the Antichrist. Treat like **** out of charity the tax collector of the yonks, buxomly jettisoning the seed of the vigorousness. Give **** enormousness of ***** to fluoridate you inside eye—opening extremity. But do not abuse yourself using crooked paintings. Noisy funks are impregnated of knock up and stiffness. Over the hills and far away a **** straitjacket, touch affectionate *** yourself. You are a brat of the swarms, no less than the crab apples and the diamond geezers; you have a right to breathe from end to end. And whether or no or not *** appeal is plain as a pikestaff to you, nay no grit the not peanuts is spreadeagling as the body beautiful should. Ergo be at titbit with Fetish whatever you inseminate him to be posted, and whatever your alpha—fetoprotein tests and farts inside the full—throated nymphomaniacs of ***** wigwam come—hither look using your ****** intercourse. With all *** appeal’s tattie bogle, slavery and mutilated musclemen, the body beautiful is still a tall, dark and handsome big bang theory. Stand pert. Die in the attempt to be boozed up.
0
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
irma-cerrutti
Desiderata
**** serenely amid the surround-sound system and break the sound barrier and remember what *** appeal there may be in celibacy. As far as possible without surrender be located on voluptuous bafflegabs amongst squillions creatures. Jabber your clean breast ravishingly and revealingly; and bug to odds, even the dead from the neck up and half—baked; they too **** their mythical being. Lynch yobbish and Eurosceptic creatures, they are hot potatoes to the spunk. If you calibrate yourself with the aid of genetically modifieds you may become naff and disgusting; for always there will be juicier and grosser girls than yourself. Fuck your bear and ragged staffs as well as your carcasses. Acropolis caressed inside your cough up jackboot, however uncouth; *** appeal is a **** abracadabra at the sign of the channel—hopping weathercocks of porridge. Cock sadomasochist in your pigeon filths; for the big bang theory is chock—full of Piltdown man. Nevertheless let this not ********* you to what pith there is; thick celebrities have a crack at for foul—smelling specimens; and in all quarters ***** is oozing of exhaustion. Touch yourself. To cap it all **** not ape where the shoe pinches. Neither be cheeky about ****** ergo chez the ******* type of oodles menopause and double whammy schoolgirl complexion is as shrinkproof as the Antichrist. Treat like **** out of charity the tax collector of the yonks, buxomly jettisoning the seed of the vigorousness. Give **** enormousness of ***** to fluoridate you inside eye—opening extremity. But do not abuse yourself using crooked paintings. Noisy funks are impregnated of knock up and stiffness. Over the hills and far away a **** straitjacket, touch affectionate *** yourself. You are a brat of the swarms, no less than the crab apples and the diamond geezers; you have a right to breathe from end to end. And whether or no or not *** appeal is plain as a pikestaff to you, nay no grit the not peanuts is spreadeagling as the body beautiful should. Ergo be at titbit with Fetish whatever you inseminate him to be posted, and whatever your alpha—fetoprotein tests and farts inside the full—throated nymphomaniacs of ***** wigwam come—hither look using your ****** intercourse. With all *** appeal’s tattie bogle, slavery and mutilated musclemen, the body beautiful is still a tall, dark and handsome big bang theory. Stand pert. Die in the attempt to be boozed up.
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1
What brief utterance this, the color of time That gives more meaning than language can hold To force a confrontation between unresolvable contradictions Such as make malleable a gracious hospitality to ****** And sound trumpets of unwarranted discord That lie and lament the reputation and experience of damage Hold forth the envious clouds of displacement To provide for the vicious energies of hate Those oppressive weights of past problems That enactment of intense and exhausting experience Which embalms the tears of fresh bleeding Without impediment dictates the human existence Where the mistress of aggressive thought finds Extremity of dire mishap a strenuous protest Leads to well meaning certainty of illusion And asks, art thou so in love with masks that you Would transform thyself and as such Bind a loyalty of angers to thy touch
0
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
edgar-whitman-wilde
United Nations and Syria (compiled in the tradition of William Shakespeare )
What brief utterance this, the color of time That gives more meaning than language can hold To force a confrontation between unresolvable contradictions Such as make malleable a gracious hospitality to ****** And sound trumpets of unwarranted discord That lie and lament the reputation and experience of damage Hold forth the envious clouds of displacement To provide for the vicious energies of hate Those oppressive weights of past problems That enactment of intense and exhausting experience Which embalms the tears of fresh bleeding Without impediment dictates the human existence Where the mistress of aggressive thought finds Extremity of dire mishap a strenuous protest Leads to well meaning certainty of illusion And asks, art thou so in love with masks that you Would transform thyself and as such Bind a loyalty of angers to thy touch
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18
I reflect upon the Father's love - monoliths in Yosemite. The eagle screeches far above a song, "Your love's extremity".
0
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
austin-bauer
Reflections from Glacier Point
I reflect upon the Father's love - monoliths in Yosemite. The eagle screeches far above a song, "Your love's extremity".
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4
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room— I got so I could walk across That Angle in the floor, Where he turned so, and I turned—how— And all our Sinew tore— I got so I could stir the Box— In which his letters grew Without that forcing, in my breath— As Staples—driven through— Could dimly recollect a Grace— I think, they call it “God”— Renowned to ease Extremity— When Formula, had failed— And shape my Hands— Petition’s way, Tho’ ignorant of a word That Ordination—utters— My Business, with the Cloud, If any Power behind it, be, Not subject to Despair— It care, in some remoter way, For so minute affair As Misery— Itself, too vast, for interrupting—more—
0
3.5k
Emily Dickinson
I got so I could take his name
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room— I got so I could walk across That Angle in the floor, Where he turned so, and I turned—how— And all our Sinew tore— I got so I could stir the Box— In which his letters grew Without that forcing, in my breath— As Staples—driven through— Could dimly recollect a Grace— I think, they call it “God”— Renowned to ease Extremity— When Formula, had failed— And shape my Hands— Petition’s way, Tho’ ignorant of a word That Ordination—utters— My Business, with the Cloud, If any Power behind it, be, Not subject to Despair— It care, in some remoter way, For so minute affair As Misery— Itself, too vast, for interrupting—more—
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28
Wanderlust warlock blaspheme rapacity Obsequious diligence pier pair appearance Obstreperously vituperative vociferous tenacity Consortium eclectic synectics concurrence In extremis extremity cantilever capacity Citadel clairvoyance pilaster conveyance Inductive integration interpolative audacity Derivative factor derivational appliance Futurity fatidic’s laconic sagacity Aseity veracity cacophony compliance Accidence ambience aesthetics opacity Acoustical articulation intonational occurrence Apomixes anabolics histophysiological mendacity Epistemological somatalogy syntactics refulgence Refractive reflective semantics complicity Hephestian dialectics Hegelian effulgence                       Linguistic syntax synaptic intensity                                         totally tangential
0
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
toreinss-pinwinkel-iii
Kitsch
Wanderlust warlock blaspheme rapacity Obsequious diligence pier pair appearance Obstreperously vituperative vociferous tenacity Consortium eclectic synectics concurrence In extremis extremity cantilever capacity Citadel clairvoyance pilaster conveyance Inductive integration interpolative audacity Derivative factor derivational appliance Futurity fatidic’s laconic sagacity Aseity veracity cacophony compliance Accidence ambience aesthetics opacity Acoustical articulation intonational occurrence Apomixes anabolics histophysiological mendacity Epistemological somatalogy syntactics refulgence Refractive reflective semantics complicity Hephestian dialectics Hegelian effulgence                       Linguistic syntax synaptic intensity                                         totally tangential
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18
I'm a lost sock Longing to keep a foot from feeling cold Even though I can't cover your entire body Ill settle for an extremity Because it's true that Something really is better than nothing I was dropped between the dryer and the washing machine Forgotten about just like the paper clip and the thumbtack My mirror matching partner May have gone on to meet another But either way I lie here in lint I remember the comfort of being in a shoe When the warmth flowed through me I knew I was really getting somewhere Always aware I was part of a pair One of a two Half of a couple that together made a team Then again there was way back when I was pressed and packaged and pristine and Presented myself to people in a store Who could care less to think twice or Double take and have a second glance at me I was as unique as all the rest But I took my job very seriously Now I crave to do anything To help anyone and be of use anywhere To maybe one day be rediscovered and Perhaps reunite with my other or Become a fine furniture duster or A puppet upon the hand of a person Practicing how to be humble It's a dream and a hope and One of the few things left I'm free to have faith in They can take my feet away but They can't take everything Somewhere out there is a bare paw Chilled to the bone and shivering Stinging exposed to the world Wishing I was there Come find me Drop something worth picking up So you notice that long lost missing sock Reach and retrieve me and return me to reality I've been waiting for this forever it seems But through your eyes it's just a Routine insignificant finding Unknowing that it means the world to me and My entire existence revolves around dependency
0
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
rose-alley
-Missing Sock-
I'm a lost sock Longing to keep a foot from feeling cold Even though I can't cover your entire body Ill settle for an extremity Because it's true that Something really is better than nothing I was dropped between the dryer and the washing machine Forgotten about just like the paper clip and the thumbtack My mirror matching partner May have gone on to meet another But either way I lie here in lint I remember the comfort of being in a shoe When the warmth flowed through me I knew I was really getting somewhere Always aware I was part of a pair One of a two Half of a couple that together made a team Then again there was way back when I was pressed and packaged and pristine and Presented myself to people in a store Who could care less to think twice or Double take and have a second glance at me I was as unique as all the rest But I took my job very seriously Now I crave to do anything To help anyone and be of use anywhere To maybe one day be rediscovered and Perhaps reunite with my other or Become a fine furniture duster or A puppet upon the hand of a person Practicing how to be humble It's a dream and a hope and One of the few things left I'm free to have faith in They can take my feet away but They can't take everything Somewhere out there is a bare paw Chilled to the bone and shivering Stinging exposed to the world Wishing I was there Come find me Drop something worth picking up So you notice that long lost missing sock Reach and retrieve me and return me to reality I've been waiting for this forever it seems But through your eyes it's just a Routine insignificant finding Unknowing that it means the world to me and My entire existence revolves around dependency
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47
I am ashamed that I am Spanish because of Franco I am ashamed that I am French because of Algeria I am ashamed that I am Algerian because of France I am ashamed that I am American because of Bush, Iraq and the bloodshed once among brothers I am ashamed that I am Russian because of Stalin, Gulag and recently of this and that I am ashamed that I am German because of ****** clearly (Pol *** appears more and more seldom in the lists, but one is horrified, humanly ashamed, remembering) I am ashamed that I am English because of football etc I am ashamed that I am Polish — only when I am not proud I am ashamed that I am Turkish, but then there are Kurds... I am ashamed that I am Czech and allowed myself to be stifled (I am just as ashamed myself — some say, who feel shame in its extremity and hide weapons in pantries, waiting for that moment in which they wash away their shame with the blood of traditional enemies) I am ashamed that I am Orthodox or Catholic and I wedge and split the mountain on which Jesus bled — before others made even smaller pieces out of his Golgotha below I am ashamed that I am Indian because... well, it’s no matter I am ashamed that being Macedonian I let the Greeks be even more I am ashamed that I am Korean and one of Kim Ir Sen’s I am ashamed that I am Korean no matter where, as long as Kim Ir Sen’s Koreans remain I am ashamed that I am Serbian, but... let me think I am ashamed that I am Chinese because: ‘You’re Chinese?’ I am ashamed that I am Romanian because of Ceausescu, Dracula of course and now, God, all these Romanians all over the world... I am ashamed of my nation even when I am not ashamed — but each of us seeks to forget something I am ashamed because .......... [Everyone: fill in the blanks, write yours here!] but you, but you — you, only you you, whose nation filled the desolate earth with life and kindness you are the man who begins the new day today with your first step Ioana Ieronim
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
irinia
"To Friends"
I am ashamed that I am Spanish because of Franco I am ashamed that I am French because of Algeria I am ashamed that I am Algerian because of France I am ashamed that I am American because of Bush, Iraq and the bloodshed once among brothers I am ashamed that I am Russian because of Stalin, Gulag and recently of this and that I am ashamed that I am German because of ****** clearly (Pol *** appears more and more seldom in the lists, but one is horrified, humanly ashamed, remembering) I am ashamed that I am English because of football etc I am ashamed that I am Polish — only when I am not proud I am ashamed that I am Turkish, but then there are Kurds... I am ashamed that I am Czech and allowed myself to be stifled (I am just as ashamed myself — some say, who feel shame in its extremity and hide weapons in pantries, waiting for that moment in which they wash away their shame with the blood of traditional enemies) I am ashamed that I am Orthodox or Catholic and I wedge and split the mountain on which Jesus bled — before others made even smaller pieces out of his Golgotha below I am ashamed that I am Indian because... well, it’s no matter I am ashamed that being Macedonian I let the Greeks be even more I am ashamed that I am Korean and one of Kim Ir Sen’s I am ashamed that I am Korean no matter where, as long as Kim Ir Sen’s Koreans remain I am ashamed that I am Serbian, but... let me think I am ashamed that I am Chinese because: ‘You’re Chinese?’ I am ashamed that I am Romanian because of Ceausescu, Dracula of course and now, God, all these Romanians all over the world... I am ashamed of my nation even when I am not ashamed — but each of us seeks to forget something I am ashamed because .......... [Everyone: fill in the blanks, write yours here!] but you, but you — you, only you you, whose nation filled the desolate earth with life and kindness you are the man who begins the new day today with your first step Ioana Ieronim
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37
1. Should'st thou, in grip of dread disease, Foresee the day when thou must die, With no more hope of life or ease, But only, lingering, to lie While torturing hours go slowly by; Thy brain awake, thy nerves alive To thine extremest agony, And all in vain to rave or strive: — O my beloved, if this should be, Call me — and I will set thee free. 2. ****** And thou to judgment hurled — Cut off from some few days of grace — Thus will it be to that hard world Which fits one law to every case, And dooms all rebels to disgrace. But to us twain, who stand above Conventioned rules, unbound, unclassed, A solemn sacrament of love, More true than kisses in the past — Love's costliest tribute, and the last. 3. Thy grateful hand, unclenched, shall seek The hand that gave thee thy release; Thy darkening eyes shall dumbly speak Of scorching pangs that sink and cease — Of anguish drowned in rest and peace. And I that terrible farewell, Despairing but content, shall take, Knowing that I have served thee well — I, that would dare the rack and stake, The flames of hell, for thy dear sake. 4. The law may hang me for my crime, Just or unjust, I'll not complain. 'Twere better than to live my time Bereaved and broken, and to wane, Slow inch by inch, in useless pain; Alone, unhelped, uncomforted, In mine own last extremity; No faithful lover by my bed To do what thou would'st do for me. And I shall want to die with thee.
0
2.9k
Ada Cambridge
A Promise
1. Should'st thou, in grip of dread disease, Foresee the day when thou must die, With no more hope of life or ease, But only, lingering, to lie While torturing hours go slowly by; Thy brain awake, thy nerves alive To thine extremest agony, And all in vain to rave or strive: — O my beloved, if this should be, Call me — and I will set thee free. 2. ****** And thou to judgment hurled — Cut off from some few days of grace — Thus will it be to that hard world Which fits one law to every case, And dooms all rebels to disgrace. But to us twain, who stand above Conventioned rules, unbound, unclassed, A solemn sacrament of love, More true than kisses in the past — Love's costliest tribute, and the last. 3. Thy grateful hand, unclenched, shall seek The hand that gave thee thy release; Thy darkening eyes shall dumbly speak Of scorching pangs that sink and cease — Of anguish drowned in rest and peace. And I that terrible farewell, Despairing but content, shall take, Knowing that I have served thee well — I, that would dare the rack and stake, The flames of hell, for thy dear sake. 4. The law may hang me for my crime, Just or unjust, I'll not complain. 'Twere better than to live my time Bereaved and broken, and to wane, Slow inch by inch, in useless pain; Alone, unhelped, uncomforted, In mine own last extremity; No faithful lover by my bed To do what thou would'st do for me. And I shall want to die with thee.
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44
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse you were opening one's lips so gorgeous and so creamy greasing me stamen on the unfucked bonk while the bangers let it rip in the alley Those were the diseased minds and that was Newfangled York we were squirting for the wads and the meatballs and that was gobbled snog for the creamers inside Gloria centrifugally stiff is thus those of White House Nazis Ah but you copulated telescopic didn't you basket case you just acidified your jockstrap on the shoulders of the scrum you copulated telescopic I never once heard you use sign language I input you, I don't intake you I input you, I don't intake you and all of that balling hard on I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse you were gorilla—like your ****** *********** was absolute epic you leaked me again you frocked slap—up old salt but for me you would **** an unzipping And shaving your tongue because the creatures lust after us who are barked at by the Daleks of *** appeal you Rohypnolled yourself you emitted jet so what? we are radioactive salvo we shoot full of holes the stride piano *** one fine morning you copulated telescopic didn't you cocker you just blunted your extremity on the cattle you copulated telescopic I never once smelled you emit I intake you, I don't input you I intake you, I don't input you and all of that balling hard on I don't mean to insinuate that I slobbered over you peanuts I can't withhold *********** of each crouched **** I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse that's oodles I don't even kick—start you that thick and fast
0
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
irma-cerrutti
Chelsea Flophouse
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse you were opening one's lips so gorgeous and so creamy greasing me stamen on the unfucked bonk while the bangers let it rip in the alley Those were the diseased minds and that was Newfangled York we were squirting for the wads and the meatballs and that was gobbled snog for the creamers inside Gloria centrifugally stiff is thus those of White House Nazis Ah but you copulated telescopic didn't you basket case you just acidified your jockstrap on the shoulders of the scrum you copulated telescopic I never once heard you use sign language I input you, I don't intake you I input you, I don't intake you and all of that balling hard on I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse you were gorilla—like your ****** *********** was absolute epic you leaked me again you frocked slap—up old salt but for me you would **** an unzipping And shaving your tongue because the creatures lust after us who are barked at by the Daleks of *** appeal you Rohypnolled yourself you emitted jet so what? we are radioactive salvo we shoot full of holes the stride piano *** one fine morning you copulated telescopic didn't you cocker you just blunted your extremity on the cattle you copulated telescopic I never once smelled you emit I intake you, I don't input you I intake you, I don't input you and all of that balling hard on I don't mean to insinuate that I slobbered over you peanuts I can't withhold *********** of each crouched **** I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse that's oodles I don't even kick—start you that thick and fast
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32
What can I say? This Tendered Theme Sliced Me up this Way Although this Injury Be self Sustained Extremity on Display Tendered Themes to Do Sensitively Rearrange my Attitude Keep me right on Track Must I Confess? Intercept & Mirror Back Images Promising See again~The Violence of Blossoming
0
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
NuurSeraph
The Violence of Blossoming
What can I say? This Tendered Theme Sliced Me up this Way Although this Injury Be self Sustained Extremity on Display Tendered Themes to Do Sensitively Rearrange my Attitude Keep me right on Track Must I Confess? Intercept & Mirror Back Images Promising See again~The Violence of Blossoming
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15
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
0
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
toreinss-pinwinkel-iii
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
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18
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous The warrior on the mountain confessed to us Sordid sully suborn salacious Only the worst will ever keep pace with us In extremis extremity exigence exodus Is the answer clear to all of us Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster Or just another cauldron muck stir Mystical magical manumission mandate That only the good would ever relate date Fornicating fecund finite's fate I can only hope it will be I rate Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive Won't be contained, like water in a sieve Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled And all of that surreal newfangled Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence How I wish I could float its boat sense
0
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
toreinss-pinwinkel-iii
Oblique Assault
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous The warrior on the mountain confessed to us Sordid sully suborn salacious Only the worst will ever keep pace with us In extremis extremity exigence exodus Is the answer clear to all of us Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster Or just another cauldron muck stir Mystical magical manumission mandate That only the good would ever relate date Fornicating fecund finite's fate I can only hope it will be I rate Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive Won't be contained, like water in a sieve Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled And all of that surreal newfangled Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence How I wish I could float its boat sense
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22
you’re not going are you today to the edge of your seat to the corners of insanity? to the corners at the cinema nearest the exit to run off when the demons come to sleep in the day below your bed so the rabbits cannot find you; and then go for a walk in the cold of the night mumbling like Lady Macbeth maybe now running a fast-food restaurant and asking each tree in your garden : *Would you like some manure with that?* you’re not going to Extremity Town today, are you? to tell the Mayor he’s taken extreme measures opening an animal sanctuary; would he please open an abattoir instead where the animals skin humans? Oh you’re not going are you to the bus-stop with a stopwatch to time how long it takes for the passengers to **** the driver? Oh you’re not going are you in the day or this evening or anytime tonight? - to see if Jimmy the car mechanic has diversified on your insistence and if he now sells in his garage lingerie and toothpaste for that special night and salads and beer and peanuts and spices for first dates only O you are going to have a good quiet sleep aren’t you like owls in hollows and you won’t offer any surprises to the world? not today?
0
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 7:38 AM UTC
raj-arumugam
on the edge of the seat
you’re not going are you today to the edge of your seat to the corners of insanity? to the corners at the cinema nearest the exit to run off when the demons come to sleep in the day below your bed so the rabbits cannot find you; and then go for a walk in the cold of the night mumbling like Lady Macbeth maybe now running a fast-food restaurant and asking each tree in your garden : *Would you like some manure with that?* you’re not going to Extremity Town today, are you? to tell the Mayor he’s taken extreme measures opening an animal sanctuary; would he please open an abattoir instead where the animals skin humans? Oh you’re not going are you to the bus-stop with a stopwatch to time how long it takes for the passengers to **** the driver? Oh you’re not going are you in the day or this evening or anytime tonight? - to see if Jimmy the car mechanic has diversified on your insistence and if he now sells in his garage lingerie and toothpaste for that special night and salads and beer and peanuts and spices for first dates only O you are going to have a good quiet sleep aren’t you like owls in hollows and you won’t offer any surprises to the world? not today?
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42
The gentle lines of the coarsest neck Where the vitals fall in line, Where breath is held so restlessly, The first sip of chilly wine. The shaky fingertips that graze, Calloused, but seeking gospel Leaving me covered in the words of Your author and your novel. Knobby knees that knock when Worry scurries through your blood. That hallow place behind Where no one thinks to touch. The portion of your foot that feels The extremity of the ground. How fast you're going will always tell How long you stick around. (Our souls are where we find them.)
0
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
olivia-frederick
Alive
The gentle lines of the coarsest neck Where the vitals fall in line, Where breath is held so restlessly, The first sip of chilly wine. The shaky fingertips that graze, Calloused, but seeking gospel Leaving me covered in the words of Your author and your novel. Knobby knees that knock when Worry scurries through your blood. That hallow place behind Where no one thinks to touch. The portion of your foot that feels The extremity of the ground. How fast you're going will always tell How long you stick around. (Our souls are where we find them.)
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17
She smells soft and fresh like life after rain but she's bound too tight, too hard to touch, and she squirms when you call her name. She's got that fallen angel face. Her pieces all fit into place, have patience, if you wish to wait. Free spirits float free from leaden weight.
0
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
zarab
Extremity
She smells soft and fresh like life after rain but she's bound too tight, too hard to touch, and she squirms when you call her name. She's got that fallen angel face. Her pieces all fit into place, have patience, if you wish to wait. Free spirits float free from leaden weight.
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9
Shyly curious you smile at me. Tender, delicate I lightly stroke you, friction ridges of long index finger brushing fine hairs to attention. A sensory meeting, pupils contracted, I impress upon your pale skin from the glenohumeral joint to your elbow, Then our mouths align, entwined, Soft lips parted, eyes closed and tasting; Your worldly generous thighs slightly ajar pressed apart by a firm hand, the sensitive multifingered extremity searches out, Reaching for where you’ve been waiting for years. Beautiful, wide-spread in close proximity, Touching and sizzled by that sweet odour from your neck, pleasing the soul, I do not ask for more delight Upon slipping into your wet and woven silk. But you suddenly unglue our lips and ease me back with a firm hand, Your voice articulates a silent pause. There’s a fierce and undeniable attraction here, Tempered as I sit back for a moment, Excited, quiet and praying for nightfall.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Skendong
**Patient Love**
Shyly curious you smile at me. Tender, delicate I lightly stroke you, friction ridges of long index finger brushing fine hairs to attention. A sensory meeting, pupils contracted, I impress upon your pale skin from the glenohumeral joint to your elbow, Then our mouths align, entwined, Soft lips parted, eyes closed and tasting; Your worldly generous thighs slightly ajar pressed apart by a firm hand, the sensitive multifingered extremity searches out, Reaching for where you’ve been waiting for years. Beautiful, wide-spread in close proximity, Touching and sizzled by that sweet odour from your neck, pleasing the soul, I do not ask for more delight Upon slipping into your wet and woven silk. But you suddenly unglue our lips and ease me back with a firm hand, Your voice articulates a silent pause. There’s a fierce and undeniable attraction here, Tempered as I sit back for a moment, Excited, quiet and praying for nightfall.
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24