"favouring" poems
me? these days?
i have to bribe bonsai tigers
to fall asleep by giving them
excess treats,
drink myself to a limit
and then take insomnia tablets,
glance at the stars
and gag up a bolshevik black hole,
think about russian
newly-wed millionaires
spending so mcuh the taxes go up,
testifying: well when the full circus
with elephants and missing acrobats
comes... and there's no french revolution
versace... we're in bigger crap
we thought we were...
so i took to peddling, keeping heart
rate with feeling rather than
a heart-rate keeper on the wrist known
as apple / iWank...
you'll never believe the amount
of creativity that comes from Onan...
it's like that story of onan and samson
like it's that story of cain and abel...
you'd have to be a mozart to find a creative
continuum in women rather than
beethoven in the hive of being deaf...
say rich and thus say spend...
say poor and thus say like a primate
with two flint stones... what the hell is this?!
japanese crow reduced their beak for
nut crushing purposes into a car tire.
FIRE! FIRE! PROMETHEUS!
so came the world favouring thought
from prometheus' liver
when in diaper-shelter postman pat delivery
by a stork... but each of us that got the slit
of liver never claimed origins in the apple
adam ******* out when eve forgot
that satan's singularity was expressed in
a pluralism: eat this apple, depilate,
and you and adam will be like the gods...
but then the metrosexual emerged
with shaved legs and a shaved chest...
down the drain that dream went:
as long as you eat the apple and know
you have hairy legs... i'm sure whatever you
say he will be ordained with pleasure to perform...
eve - i need a hammer
adam - here babe
eve - i need a nail
adam - here babe
eve - i need five planks of wood, four legs one like an abdomen
adam - here babe
eve - mash it up
adam - hey babe, what's that?
eve - a ****** table, tapestry for porcelain!
adam - woah! that's great!
eve to god - this adam is a ****** robot!
satan to eve - well... get ready for ******
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
The rattle is shaken and life becomes unfixed
Torrential rains cascades downwards on ancient bricks
These stunning moments have been rediscovered
In wonder all is flustered in awe as the state of silence honks
Love creeps out of tune in time, the unsureness of cold feet
The voice fades, the toned whispers continually erased
Stormed and soaked, stilled and stalked by a heart that stole my dream
Drenched in uncertainty, non-favouring multitudes won't let me be
These flutters flattens and deflated, I stroll and I will not run
The floating fun fares vanishes, the morning bird furnishes
The time capsule evaporated, unstripped and frozen
Ohh, how I wished to plant and harvest inspiration
Wake up with a renewed breath of air, the flowing river
Of the days when the gloom masked, I hated what life had become
How could humanity be so self centred and selfish?
I looked for silence and the banging never ceased
The masses rushed, never to let me be, they snatched my freedom
I inhaled the hope of the freeness and longed for the racing momentums
How so?
That over time the weather collapsed to coldness, the darkness marbled
A nag of the songbirds, as I escaped in the ****** ozone layer
A disconnect of the mind, body and soul; when I saw my spirit sail
A snail sailing on its own course and journey slowly but steady
Reflections and visions of the timeline of growth and fertility
A heart of one, the soul of all, the mind of many, a tongue in sums
The chandelier hanged on a ceiling, high, holding the flickering bulbs
A condense of energy, the modelled nature of a prognostic intervention
A laughter and synergy rests in the symphony of the unsung melodies
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
Can you hear them whispering
There inside my brain
Can you hear them tinkering
Trying to shake lose what is sane
Can you hear them Clamouring
There inside my mind
Can you hear them favouring
With sadness all they find
Can you hear them plotting
There inside my cranium
Can you hear them knotting
All my thoughts till thier alien
Can you hear them screaming
There inside my brain
Can you hear them scheming
They are driving me insane
The voices here inside my skull
Are always chattering, never a lull
They are bent on my destruction
At first it was a sweet seduction
Now it's a roaring wave
Trying my head to cave
I can hear them as plain as day
Can you hear them what they say
Those voices in my head
All them yelling, one thing said
They only want me dead
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
One inhalation of the sky
To separate the murky sea
And reassure you as you cry
The clouds still hover by your knee.
Two puffs of moonlight left behind
As products of the midnight rose
Then let your sorrow be refined
As angels let their weak wings close.
Three champagne bubbles of a laugh
A courtesy sent by a friend
A flash of lightning in the dark
Like vaulting over to the end.
Step four is harder than the rest
As it depends on nature's strain
Abandon sunshine on your quest
And wallow in torrential rain.
And halfway there it's number five
And rhythm marks a saddened truth
A little song to drown alive
A beacon in such inky youth.
A devil's dance at number six
Invest in favouring your greed
Some crime electrifies the mix
Prioritise things you don't need.
At seven let yourself break free
And choke in sympathetic arms
Unscrew the lock and break the key
Because your friends contain some calm.
Except, at eight you'll be alone
Reciting old quotes that apply
And spending hours on your phone
Relating till your eyes are dry
At number nine then, here it is
The scent of fear that smells like grace
You tune your blood to lightly fizz
And brush the tears from off your face
Ten gashes end the whole ordeal
Of shortened breath and shaking hands
Though sunsets bleed the way you feel
No one else will understand
It's not a choice, it's a command.
Now your mind is stressing less
You've cured the chaos with a mess.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
God in the *great *assembly stands *Bagnadath-el
Of Kings and lordly States,
Among the gods* on both his hands. *Bekerev.
He judges and debates.
How long will ye *pervert the right *Tishphetu
With *judgment false and wrong gnavel.
Favouring the wicked by your might,
Who thence grow bold and strong?
*Regard the *weak and fatherless *Shiphtu-dal.
*Dispatch the *poor mans cause,
And **raise the man in deep distress
By **just and equal Lawes. **Hatzdiku.
Defend the poor and desolate,
And rescue from the hands
Of wicked men the low estate
Of him that help demands.
They know not nor will understand,
In darkness they walk on,
The Earths foundations all are *mov’d *Jimmotu.
And *out of order gon.
I said that ye were Gods, yea all
The Sons of God most high
But ye shall die like men, and fall
As other Princes die.
Rise God, *judge thou the earth in might,
This wicked earth *redress, *Shiphta.
For thou art he who shalt by right
The Nations all possess.
1.9k
Can you hear them whispering
There inside my brain
Can you hear them tinkering
Trying to shake lose what is sane
Can you hear them Clamouring
There inside my mind
Can you hear them favouring
With sadness all they find
Can you hear them plotting
There inside my cranium
Can you hear them knotting
All my thoughts till thier alien
Can you hear them screaming
There inside my brain
Can you hear them scheming
They are driving me insane
The voices here inside my skull
Are always chattering, never a lull
They are bent on my destruction
At first it was a sweet seduction
Now it's a roaring wave
Trying my head to cave
I can hear them as plain as day
Can you hear them what they say
Those voices in my head
All them yelling, one thing said
They only want me dead
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
*i wait all weak for the newspaper sections i read to arrive,
the magazines of sat. and sun.,
the style section, the culture section, and the news review,
things that matter to be honest.*
i wonder why people want brave ethnicity,
they want the long ships the arabs do
listening to viking metal,
the vikings want peace and quite,
but with global capitalism
and the defunct national socialism:
if only the jews weren't involved
the single pathology, all those able and nimble,
we get no ethnic bravery,
we only get citizens and astronauts,
the only exploration geography is empty and vast
space, and since we're using fossil fuels
we're exploring and destroying at the same time,
like the olden days: plunder and pillage mechanics,
but we're waiting for the other exploration
dynamic, where almost everyone is involved:
turn an autocrat to be paired with a tsunami
or an earthquake and you get panic,
pair the tsunami / earthquake with democracy
and you still get panic...
pair it to a theocracy and you get theories
like evolutionary history with the time scale all
too wobbly extending too far, people
think of gooey eggs easy in 5min,,
but monkey to man in 5 minutes - where's
the adaptability issue concerning?
the darwinian per se dislodges man's
adaptability concerns - historically it was going
to be either Stonehenge or the Giza pyramids,
darwinism dislodged man's adaptability
to future concerns by favouring debate of past truth
and whether mathematically speaking:
the geometric beginning of x, y, z, was
a will to live from the standpoint of (0, 0, 0),
denial of denial creates a propeller, kantian
given 0 = negation.
instead of being as darwin stressed evolutionary beings,
we've become historical beings,
with 24h news reels, with celebrity culture,
trying to piñata nazis... japan conquering with karaeoke
singing... loss of story telling...
with intellectuals trying to pinpoint and in an arena
of plagiarism agree a historical date
where dialectics is impossible... because something
is cited, circa, and the circa defines one person being
wrong and the other person being right...
evolutionary analysis made us so overcome by our history
we're trying to live a single day out,
but in 24h news reels no important historical event will take
place... i call it historical insomnia...
as a scot might say: eh maytee,
das est shovel of ***** (linguistic allegory: shy kite)!
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
Tonight is the night, be it All Hallows' Eve
One filled with fright most refuse to believe,
For deep amongst the shadows, silently lurking,
'Tis a terrifying creature, his jagged teeth smirking.
Thou hast all heard of demons, and hast battled thine ghouls
Whilst this terrible beast watcheth with hunger and drools.
It's spittle, like acid, can burn through thine flesh
Making thee so much easier to digest.
No name shalt be found for a creature so foul
That gobbles up goblins, and ogres disembowels.
Dost thou think that thine lanterns shall frighten it hence?
Oh foolish man, it shall consume the light thence.
It standeth hunched over, twelve feet in height;
Stalking thou, watching thou, waiting for night.
It cometh from deep within the forest, as the moon wanes
His fur smelleth of death, his claws favouring pain.
He shan't be stopped ere his hunt is over
Yet he only hunts the thirty-first of October
Take ye heed, then, and hear the warning of the raven
For this beast is coming, and from him there is but one haven.
He preyeth upon the weakest, and the one full of fear
So stand fast, take courage and in another likeness appear
Put on a mask, as treacherous as can be
Conceal what layeth within, do not let him see
Or else you shall be taken, beaten and devoured
For this beast prefers to torture just to see thee cower.
So please, take heed to this warning and believe;
Thou art only safe if thee wearest a mask on All Hallows' Eve.
11/3/16
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
We started out being cheap,
but being impoverished eventually saved us...
It became a fad,
almost everything did.
Whoever had money,
would spend things to make themselves more connected to the singularity,
more tapped in.
We were all suffering from information addiction,
looking for our next fix.
Likes were a thing of the past,
we didn't just want digital affirmation anymore,
we needed to feel more powerful.
Of course this was just something we created in our mind because we saw others gaining this perceived 'power',
of course if you can,
in your mind,
research,
copy,
paste,
spellcheck
- everything a computer could do,
you would seem more capable of a human,
but in reality,
once you left your mind's energy up for just processing power,
you were nothing more than a machine...
some of us let our minds go entirely,
favouring searches and what is already known to fill in the blanks for our own exploratory research.
Mods weren't cheap.
But so many people were willing to pay for convenience.
- mods help us think,
they can schedule our lives.
- certain ones are just cognitive enhancers,
basically a microcomputer that knows which electrical impulses to fire in your brain for improved cognitive functions,
muscle controls or even releases of certain chemicals (serotonin)
- Others are just things like ocular mods (contact screens)
- Viruses are terrifying.
- New wave of humans who choose to be 'fed' - near braindead. Enabled to know made unknowing,
allowed to follow,
sometimes the struggle is necessary.
Reporter
main character either snaps back into reality or
overpower systems with willpower
she sees past the hiccups of self
and knows how to command the bots
break it down, robot girl,
make the demons dance for you,
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
unendurable, long and exhausting
are the pains
presumptuous in their plenty
such are these pernicious pains
that swarm in a slivering hiss
upon dark and lurking shadows
aesthetically applauding themselves
as they push here and there
in their wounding commentary
of painful narrative
agonising enough to reduce
the soul to debilitating bouts
of disagreeably damaging experience
with startling exaggerations
that produce disgraceful extortions
upon mind and body
squandering unbearable isolations
fragmenting the cracks
in a delicate structure of personality
uprooting it from a sanctified paradise
providing instead a monstrous, shameful loathing
that makes one choose to become another
other than those unthinking
other than this misery of anguish
other than this pain
deliberately to provoke an anger
the other with ingratiating timidity
or rebellious defiance
favouring a rejection of
all resentful obligations
all that is distasteful
all that is not worth carrying out
such as with a contempt
that allows one to escape into an emptiness
of the ridiculous and the impossible
through thoughts to an absurdity of beliefs
through the deserted streets
the neighbourhoods of the lie
pass the filthy inadequacies
of obscene caresses
where one is mocked
by exquisitely satisfying ******
of vicious pains
pains that control behaviour
freedom of movement
time and space
who appear at corners of the mouth
where lurk sarcastic secrets
now I know in these horrors and torments
that time has stopped in all dimensions
eternity has ceased
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 5:32 PM UTC
He' a furtive
sneaky quiet boy
scraps of stories at his tongue
Small slips of strings
waiting to be pulled
Undone;
He is nothing without his lies.
Sitting there
with a smile
tattooed
imbued
lips stitched
with invisible thread,
not misread
more unwritten.
He sits smitten
by his undisclosed.
He sits savouring,
favouring the silent stealth
of hidden words.
His privacy is coded, arcane,
It sustains his urge
to keep his as his,
a little something
for his soul, his
alone to feed on.
His alone to feel.
Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 2:16 AM UTC
Some time ago one went on a little trip
To check out the internet poetry landscape
What one saw remained in the mind's tape
A movie reel which had a compelling grip
Poet's comments were of such cliquish old rock
Like being an exclusive remarking club
Outsider verses left out of their hub
The scenery verily stunned one with much shock
One so wishes one had not gone away
A dream of venturing did disenchant
The roads lead to (an in house favouring)
After sighting the terrain's mode of sway
Taking a journey one may well recant
These vistas weren't enjoyable savouring
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 2:03 AM UTC
I fly not on wings of folly
Nor in self deceit
Destroying my person
I hover not on smeared words
Of Vulturous mission
Nor on Kiteous skill on mother hen
I swaive on wings of truth
Surging through the horizon
Souring high above the orbit.
I fly across weathers:
Through the sun
Through the rain
High in clouds above the winds
Finding my strength on will
Favouring my cause on trust
Trusting my vision with precisions.
Like the eagle to the eaglet
I spread my wings of love
Conquering Tribes, Nations,
Continents, Race,Religion and Heights.
Thus i fly to reign.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
The huge bird tattoo on her
Back burns like lazers when
Her skin gets warm,
And I, a human radiator
Favouring a sub-zero bedroom
And thin covers not to
Burn an imprint of myself upon
The sheets,
Massage heavy lotion onto her
Cringing canvas, occasionally
Kissing that phoenix rising from
The ashes of her history of
Colder lovers.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
Nostalgia or Noosetalgia?
Cause it chokes me in it
To recall a world where I existed
Without a limit
Crawl around a place
Inside my head
I can't escape
Unsure if that faded memory
Is real or fake
And did I make it
Did I make it?
For here I am
In a present
I'm unable to open up
Tied down by a past
Too much spoken of
And Will I make it?
To a future where there is no limit
Break the bad habit
Take the leap
Snap the rope
Or end up choked by it?
Pulled back by the past
A rose tinted hue
Blood shot eyes
Of asphyxiation
Fixated on a south facing view
Sunny
Its funny how warmth can be found
In something long dead
Neglecting life
Favouring the thoughts in your head
Gotta Be careful when you
Tread this path
Cause memory lane
Will be all that remains
Nostalgia can last
Fed it will grow
Your time is its payment
And before you know it
Your presents your past
You passed up your present
For your Past and your Future?
What Future?
All you ever hoped for or looked to was the Past
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
I long for the touch, warmth of your skin. I yearn for my own. A prized possession more than diamonds and gold.
Cover it with the sky’s eyes. In my mind’s eye, a wonderland painted with chaos in stripes of coloured confusion in all its distorted beauty.
Come with me to my wonderland. Be my fairy-tale.
To the twinge and twinkle of the stars we’ll sway our bodies together in harmonious defeat.
Light up my dark with your smile.
Fill my heart with your innocence.
Paint my walls with the honey dipped harps hidden in your voice.
Soften this sedative of insanity with your love. Dancing in the night. Space filled with emptiness.
Two single souls favouring the stars in melodic motion.
Spinning in the heavens spotlight.
The passion of a thousand burning suns hidden between them.
My escape from madness.
But like a rose; prominent in beauty and tenderness, it withers away.
Crumbling at the hands of immortality.
A symphonic sigh clawed from her sentiment dried lips.
From ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Life did not live on in wonderland.
No escape from my wonderland
© Raffi
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 3:07 PM UTC
worthy of impedance over time.
cause of this space is to
deliver me sleep-shaped. exit lights harbor
sounds of the coming into just when you are
born and raised, held completely
against light favouring the source.
undenied, the demand of this
assemble. in any given climate, moderate
but will not touch ground. frothing elsewhere
true life, once again this machine: in between
labor and rest is the impossible. to reach
for a certain ****** midair. height is palpable
and will rinse flesh anew, how urgent
before i decompose into blue shear
in sky face to face with the
all-too-immediate rasp of ground pulling
together, cast into the unloved water
breaking apart like mesh unwanted.
he is over space and this is
to measure warmth, when execution
is the verge of undoing. so barely-living
and claiming it so, the cause of this
performance
is to free the body |
making past the divide, careless and almost faced
beyond a forthcoming of rescue:
have escaped, have gone and already here.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
i know that the devil is blamed for much evil, but so little evil is condensed into words... imagine what good would have arisen had mein kampf been protected from the assurance of third party muscles being exerted into verbs from orientating out of nouns with ego as pro / favouring the disnobling of stone with a human voice as thus named, stone, thrown. imagine? too late, history has been written; hell... evil doesn’t really write, it just acts on impulse... good writes a lot, so much that being good becomes fiction, obviously, since fiction exists, which naturally compares with evil furthered as a denial of some sort in the historical context orientating an established contnet.
so a bunch of anthropologists and some other etc.
met at the top of the pyramid and discussed
whether a labourer believed in paradise right at the bottom...
and the labourer said... well... i don’t care
for top or bottom, but the corner-stone doesn’t exist
as a crucifixion for the rest of this structure to be
elevated and stable... surely?!
i actually forgot to mention in one poem,
christianity’s saving grace numbers only one:
doctor heal yourself...
well by saving i mean amused grace -
doctors reconsider proclaimed fault progress,
and thus claim knowledge as acquisition rendered revelatory
via progress rather than a stasis of intuition / i.e.
fake knowledge / hidden work, as all magic serves
in whatever limitation is necessary for a logic to express its full potential;
esp. if hidden and if revealed only upon the crucifix.
i hate those idiots at the top... the beatniks would have
just called them squares... we have to just call them atheists...
or if you’re polite english... ***** / wankers.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
Fortune favours the fortunate,
forget about it favouring the brave,
we are slaves to the knaves and the
queen,
king of spades.
The brave fade fast and no fortunes can last
as the dealer throws a pack in the shoe.
What
is nothing new and why it was something to do don't deter and chemin de fer for a fee
cannot make a gambler
or set a man free.
I remain the scab on the night sky,
the pauper that begs you and
you pass me by.
The moon be my fortune
the stars be my trove.
And so I rove
I'm a river
a rover,
two aces up my sleeve two
times over and that's four
of a kind and I find in the
end I don't mind
if I do.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 1:04 PM UTC
Broken heart
Favouring loneliness
stumbled upon paper and coffee
rewriting the story of forever !!
©shade_of_a_lonely_girl
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:32 AM UTC
Diamond tears
Fall upon rusty grounds
The golden stairway
Now stained with time
No silver moon
To light up the way
It's crashed and burned
In a crazy blackened haze
Pearls and ruby's
Scattered along the broken dream
Of what tomorrow
Might, could have been
Replaced with tin
Dull and scuffed
No pavement of royal gems
No raining emerald drops
Just wasted time and fortune
Niether favouring the bold
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
__[Dove]__
_/dAv/_
(countable, politics) A person favouring conciliation
and negotiation rather than conflict
Spare no fortune to the worth of
these words- pay attention to details
for the bullseye of love, as a dash and dart
Falling in love, as there are many falling feelings
…brace yourself when the bombs start.
Embrace your frightened eyes; holding
onto the sights of your whole world burning
Choked up on your own words, as when an addict
swallows their cigarette- the smoke that's churning
As I’m in a hell designed by the torture to my eyes
the sight of you gone from my life- after the roles we
played from my thoughts; acts of my mind
My love, there’s no need to tremble and hide, like a bird
that had its nest burnt over. Nestle in my love, and I’ll
wash you so pure with my words- setting you free as a dove
We don’t need to negotiated our love;
making love in peace with a piece of my mind
Jul 16, 2024
Jul 16, 2024 at 7:05 AM UTC
The old grand medina,
Once famed for its great beauty,
With bustling alleyways packed with
common folk and thick smoke
Furnished with eclectic selections
Of vibrantly ranging djellabas
And glimmering lanterns,
Possessing the utmost variety,
And I, favouring a sultry red.
In this bracing climate,
I stroll pass a provincial area,
Witnessing the penury which lies
amongst dilapidated riads,
Surrounded by decaying sidewalks,
Forming the shape of deprecation
Across my face.
However, the most harrowing of all,
Is the plenitude of the crippled,
Deprived of everything but meagre rations,
And a penny to spare.
Pondering over the question:
Does anyone truly care?
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 1:36 PM UTC
Fortune favouring the brazen and bold, the aether is passing on gifts untold, weaving the future, dismantling the past, these learnings we're taking on happen ever so fast. The whirring, the chaos, the mattering and facts. Showing me what strengths are and where there are lacks. Crushin' it, buffering wit, figuring out the issues. Figuring it, biggening it, avoiding the tissues. Everything needs solving, problem absolving, crafting patterns and habits to enforce the structure. Creating barriers and buffers, ignoring martyrs and fluffers, make a fabric free from puncture.
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:00 PM UTC