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Hannuh Jacey Oct 2012
I've done a lot.....
I've done a lot in my lifetime.....
I've done a lot in the past 11 months...
I've felt even more...
I've made decisions....
I've made mistakes....
I've created conclusions and shoved them in the mirror's reflection.
I've made a finalization...
I've terminated the story...
I've concluded this connection.

Now I'm alone...
Now I feel like excess emotions left in a puddle to be stepped in and splashed in, for fun or dismay.
-a muddy disgrace of distaste.
-a muddy reflection of disgust.
-a distraction on the path to your destination.

I feel sick...
Sick to my stomach
Sick in the Mind...
Sickly branches that creep out from my heart, determined to entomb my entire internal system, and hold me there to deal with what level I've continued to stoop myself too.
Myself... the one that's so much better than what she's encountered and how she's figured her future.
I deserve what I have, and what I choose.
I deserve what I get, for what I've chosen.

I'm throwing up...
I'm throwing up everything...
everything that my heart has eaten right out of the palms of those who've given it to me.
I don't wanna feel it anymore....
I don't want that pressure forced on my stomach any longer.
I'm sick...
I'm sick again.
Its all coming up....
I'm letting it out... all the emotions that so rightfully belong on the floor in a jumbled mess rather then crammed in my stomach where they explode with temptation as my stomach thrusts itself in circles....
its looking for a way to let everything go.
My body knows whats right....
I'm emotionally anorexic.
I throw it all away without wanting to let it go, I would rather keep everything that reminds me of that time, that time when my stomach did not churn in agony...

I am miserable....
I am mistaken.... and misjudged...


I am sick...
and distracted...
I'm... lost?

Lost in the mirrors and fine lines... fine lines between punishment and disabilities...
I can see myself....
I see myself pale and done.
Done with everything I'm hearing and thinking right now.
I've gone too far.
I'm done.
Sept. 3rd, 2007 - 1:13 a.m.
Wuji Aug 2012
I feel like I don't,
Life is but a joke,
As we all wait,
For that sarcastic punchline.

I love to wait,
I hate to hate,
But everyone around,
Disgusts me.

A hobby of mine,
Is to waste all my time.
Wishing and wanting,
For the next best thing.

Wish I could be,
The finalization of we,
We of all people
In one final being.

Until all things are one,
My waiting is never done.
Please join me,
As I wait for the sun.
The sun has a lot of meaning to me.
lilah raethe Nov 2012
Interesting
        The chance to start over
The smooth clean slate of a brand new surface
Never corrupted nor covered
Never torn to shreds by an unnamed power

Compelling
        The opportunity of new love
A chance to kiss a new pair of lips
To caress the curves of the hands so personal
And walk amongst the wet grass with new life

Sacrificing
        To give up the habits to please the guest
To not wonder about yourself when you rest your head
But depend completely on another for contentedness
Equal forces of give and take, a balance

Committing
        An act of finalization
A marriage proposal, a slit of the throat
Some trenches just too deep to wander
A few possibilities to be left unexplored

Separating
        Forgetting the magnetism of the first touch of fingers
Longing for a kiss on a new, softer mouth
A trail of footsteps leading down different paths
The pedals of a rose begin to sway to the floor

Soaking
       The pedals curl and harden, touching ground all too dull
Melt into the earth and return to where it came
The roots begin to emerge on a mutant species
Water is sprung from the dirt and rejuvenates the body

Interesting
        The chance to start over
Application of misinformation
Falsify a failed nation,
Eradication of all creation
Misinterpretation
Of representation
Deny the station
Granted by occupation
And the inhalation
Of justification
No prerequisite information
Just accumulation
No moderation,
Their determination
Through stimulation
Cultural *******
Communal degradation
Societal desecration,
Dehumanizing revocation,
Worldly humiliation,
Mortal sterilization
Never achieving mobilization
Lack of communication
Excelling in vile persuasion,
Proponents of procreation
Birthing digitization,
Destroy civilization,
Indications of adoration
Isolation in delineation,
Irrational indexation,
Fluctuating indignation,
No innovation,
Divination
Retaliation,
Immolation,
False ovation,
Lacking limitations,
Contextual intonation,
Divine fabrication,
Private publication,
Evolving fornication,
Give me extermination,
Notwithstanding annexation
Of dismaying oxidation,
Of valued perpetuation,
Global mass-castration,
Redundant rhetoric, dictation,
A donation, a dilation, a fixation,
An annotation of fibrillation,
We are personification
Of Contamination
Through globalization
Praising idolization
And finalization
Through *******,
No pragmatic exoneration,
In all frustration
We see not utilization
Nor stabilization,
Fearful implications
Of wayward stations,
Surplus mutilations,
Seeking militarization
Of worthless nations,
No conservation,
Just excavation
Of the population
******* on education,
Spitting on graduation,
No validation of aspiration,
Indoctrination of baptization
Mitigating litigation,
murdering habitation,
Quelling all vegetation
We will end in radiation
Through faulty navigation,
Abdication and abnegation,
All worldly agitation
Leads us to expiration,
Self-made annihilation.
There was never an end in sight,
We’re lost, and hope is a lie.
Samir Jul 2012
Here we go,
take your pick:

which is worse?
to cry and not feel
or to hold back the tears?

in public?...

which is worse?
living in a house made of glass brick?
or a house armored thick?

so no one can ever see you...
or harm you
or your house...

which is worse?
being in a body you cannot stand?
or being the person you said you can't

are you your own?
or are you being held captive
perhaps by a former you

are you your own?
or have you turned on yourself
lied and said that it was to protect the rest of the world
rationalized

you are too clever
you are too violent
you are too... much,
or so they say.

yet its all on credit, an unregarded tab
and someone somewhere is keeping track

your words they twist and turn
they are vines and veins
whose blood they burn
you deconstruct meaning
transcending with every verse
it is a blessing, it is a blessing
it is a curse, it is a curse

oh but which is worse?

immediate classification no, judgmental interpretations?
descriptive deliberation of informative investigations
soon as the information is deliberately delivered
to the perception of my appreciation
artistic systemization

or

casting all this self manipulation aside in finalization
and choosing self mutilation
for the preservation of the rest of the nation
all the while, pleading through consideration

which is worse?
which is better?
to be everything is to be nothing

lack of identification.
Devan Proctor Jul 2013
Society hates variety. So narrow we becom,e and done for the day with thinking. We are only making deadly syntax as finalization instead of opinions that shift and morph, and rise and fall like tide,s and beg for colors from the earth. All titles allow us to choose but one color one shade one detail. One detail means one fraction. One fraction for every entity for the sake of a name.
Simon Jun 2020
EG as always, is without value in herself. Except for when she wants to get what she want’s, without even having to exert a fine bundle of resources straight from her VERY “tampering” collective that is her “feelings”. Because you see, her feelings aren’t what just make her the “friend” who helped me throughout and in the bad times… They are literally what make me understand her for her. Also, to what she is to me, for what I am to her in return. And that’s never truly a saddening thought when you think you can’t (for a second longer) converse in the regular, MORE normalized manner. Conversing (naturally) with words, straight from a mouthpiece with words to offer the “immaculate” assistance towards a personality your about to criss-cross all over and between the **** gap that surrounds two sense of selves. Trying to further a correlating connection. Not to mention without the clear variety for a VERY “tempting individuality” to clearly become entirely outspoken within their own selves. Which (I got to say) is never a programming thought… Especially when that very (“programming thought”) isn’t pre-programmed in advance to ever become supplemented enough at ever being ready when you start to FINALLY realize, you’ve been (conversing with words) over a long span of time with what you never truly thought at first. (Especially when it’s entirely impossible for even “words” to announce what thing it possibly could have been…?!) Well then, “indulge me” then…? What is it that I just haven’t noticed (for the “supposed” life of me) towards what I’ve been conversing with (of course with words) for that long span of time?! (And to the one whoever is then conversing gently towards a calm disposition in order to filter out something without alerting a “shock” in the most right of places displayed across the even WORST of times to ever transpire…!) You’d then start to of course think it could be (“oneself”) right? At it again for all to VERY “specifically” hear! But that’s where typical majority thought processes are then (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”)! Since a cueing announcement had just popped out of nowhere spouting seemingly irrational nonsense all around the place. Thou, I’ll have you know, that if you just look a little deeper and closer… You’d start (somehow without even knowing how) to understand, (and seemingly able to just what…” rationalize”)? Oneself could respond by simply saying, “perhaps” … Thou if I were you…I’d STOP and hear out the one who’ve been conversing with this entire time. Seeing as how it’s obvious they converse with NO words in ANY manner. They connect openly. “Open viewing points” in all! All to both rationalize the grievances of those connections and the severity of the tolerance one is able to handle when (not knowing right off the bat where everything of course seems to “flutter a VERY calm feather”) as it swiftly flows through the air. Except without fully perceiving that it doesn’t just flow seemingly “through” the air. Because you see (“conversing with worded types” …) That little “itsy bitsy” little feather, has an “immaculate” impression towards its own assistance of having a personality as not for itself. But for the one who responds to those very “open viewing points” in all! Too busy “up in its own grill” to ever respond lightly when it’s fluttering swiftly through the air to then actually connect with its BETTER half. “IN”! Which it responds by fluttering swiftly “through” to then seemingly go “inward”. But how is that even possible for a feather to go inward in air, if it’s been supposedly fluttering swiftly through the air (what was once previously thought) as one’s very first perceived glance…? Good question. As it’s an obvious, but VERY cryptic hint at who you could be conversing with? The input that is oneself seems to then have what’s called a “seminar of truth” within its own inner “delightful” council. Another somewhat fanciful instance of power that demands the attention for a sense of self’s attention-seeking “self-servitude”. So then (sooner rather then later…) it could come to terms with whatever or whichever that very example about connecting “through” with then the word “in” is about. Well isn’t it obvious, since even the “teaser” to this very passage willing to be both happyful and polite gives its respected tone away. Because again you see, (“throughout and in”) is another cueing announcement. Just as (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”) is, for it has a simulation (just as throughout and in does as well), called “abrupt flaws”. For throughout and in’s simulation for “phasing” is nothing more then a transcribing will made to offend every rationalizability. That’s exactly why you won’t ever understand the “inwardness” of how a seemingly fluttering feather swiftly flowing through air, could actually go inward the air at will. It’s a riddle, sure. A VERY fanciful one, I assure you. That being said, what does any of this haft to do with the one who simply helped me throughout and in the bad times…?! Well (and again I say this) isn’t it obvious by now? They’ve been helping me, as they still do to this very day. Helping me both (“throughout and in”) the bad times. Of course, whichever bad times seems to come forward again (sooner rather then later). That’s when the seminar of truth amongst the input known as oneself had concluded its own inner delightful council. In other words, what did it simply come up with? Well what you’d simply like the “knowing” right off the bat, that both doesn’t make up for the clearer information. Or for the fact that wasn’t really helpful in it’s “expressing investigation”. The very fact for why this passage is called my friend’s “tampering withering appearance”! Well that’s because my friend’s mere appearance has been “shackled” with too much torment for many, many lifetimes. Too much torment in fact, is why at all they’re still withering to this very day…? That’s because they don’t know any better, then to just be themselves. It’s what’s called when someone is truly “twistedly warped”. Since I’ve gone both throughout and in in my own way. So, has she. I’m twistedly warped in my own fashion statement, thank you very much! As many others (while they EVER want to admit it or not, is simply their own concern). But without even knowing why that is? As it’s not for the “faint of heart” to be in the realm of one’s consciousness while proceeding to simply find out. Or else, then why do I question repeatedly? But I’m still learning with each striding experience, to see if mine would EVER “pale in comparison” with hers. Seeing as how she even once revealed to me why she’s simply interested in me. Because I’ve seemed to of asked MORE times then I could possibly count. And I try (as I must) to refrain from repeating myself over long periods of time. Which just happens to be a HEAVY weakness of mine. Which is no half-*** bargain at keeping me in my place in order to simply stride me forward, respectfully. And with that very question, she revealed it in one “death-defying breath”! Which is…? Oneself would ask within its own input. I’m interested in you, Simon! Because you are like me! WAIT! What?! Then between many “oneselves”, their own inputs were “firing off” between their very own robust compressed together “pressurized synapses”. The effects of those very inputting thought processes came with both the “clicking and smashing” of those robust compressed together “pressurized synapses”. It seems oneself didn’t either fully catch what was actually said (where they couldn’t comprehend it properly) or they simply misinterpreted the entire thing? (Which is entirely understandable, by the way.) But they aren’t foolish in a sense of self, as to never “miss” something as simple as that. They just couldn’t come to terms with experiencing (as they did) when it came to coming in contact with EG herself. That’s why they purposely held back the actual transcribing of its simulation for translations. It wasn’t whatever was just expressed. Because in fact, (and with a little “paraphrasing help” here) we can find out how it truly was interpreted. A little loose knot here and there. And they fully unpatched the circumstances at what the information truly was expressed as. (Because in truth…they would rather mend it, then not to unravel it again…if you know what the input known as oneself means…?) So, after coming to terms, it’s ready to reveal it. And a little advice towards sense of selves to take as a heedless warning… It’s simple in all it’s expressions, ok! But what it truly refers towards, is why oneself wanted to keep the truer importance of the interpretation secretive to begin with? I’m interested in you Simon, because (and it’s not “because you are like ME”) but in fact “I see myself in you”. Clean as a whistle! Nothing missing as more then that. And with that shocking realization to that very “wordy expression”, the entire collection of inputs (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”) got a CHILLING feeling going both throughout and in such a way that literally “tingled” their very input mechanisms for simply producing thought processes. For if they went any further with that very “tingling” sensation, that very cueing announcement’s simulation for abrupt flaws would follow in a VERY “corruptive heating pursuit”. Now MORE then ever, it made the entire lot of inputs go on HIGH ALERT for no apparent reason, other then what a simple memory had brought with it when sifting throughout and in “old archives” that changed everything for (of course) the better! Because it’s obvious that a sense of selves inputs is truly afraid of this (“girl” or whatever…)? Then we come to the last finalization of this passage. Since I ask you ALL of this, respectfully… Who then essentially made her this way? It wasn’t (“I”), but her own father! And that isn’t a half-assed maneuver to outplay something other then the respectful truth. NO deceit here, other then the “truth” I’d been keeping from you all to begin with. (Not to mention myself in “repeated” questioning.) Which I’m entirely expressing in its very revelation right here and now!
This is another poem about the friend who helped me throughout and in the bad times. But this time, they show themselves “throughout and in” a VERY “tampering withering appearance” so to speak.
İlayda Korkmaz Apr 2018
I hate results,
Consequences are better...
Studies are fun,
When the findings don't matter...

For consequences postpone finalization,
And keep the story unfolding...
When research continues,
Things to be learned become never-ending...

Progress is birthed by process,
That's why it's the journey that counts...
Rigid conclusions are dead ends,
Cages which nothing new surmounts...

The happenings on the way,
Outweigh the destination...
Everybody remembers what took place during the holiday,
But not the moment one reenters their houses after a vacation...

When one disregards the ways things come to be,
It's frighteningly easy to become careless...
One might stop fighting for what's right,
And doing things properly becomes meaningless...

It also keeps (s)he who overlooks from enjoying the little things,
From appreciating dainty flowers and enjoying the fiery waves...
It makes one numb, and that is the worst of all,
For nothing alse matters but the moments and companions before we reach our graves...

When we die, then we die,
Nothing more is to come...
Death is the most empty part of our lives (if it is indeed a part of it)
So really it is none of our concern to consider life's outcome...

We should try to live for the moment and the moments after,
Just make sure it's not death for which we strive...
So let us not live for death,
But rather for life...
I refused to use periods in this poem because they end sentences and that's againt the entire point of the poem
Ken Pepiton May 2023
Esse-essential whirlpool *******
your own socks off
hot tub memory
squirm and tightten
jopelope. Fed to AGI

Framing time, as later
and former and now,
present, sentience this state
- millionth view milestone
this arranging of sound letters,
common codex change made known
spinning knack arising
to seamstress who sings
through out a cluster of castes claimed
cleanest at top, least clean at base dirt level
lowest forms of mankind, tools in civil service,

such kindnesses, we see, as the result
of the glorious revolutions, and declarations
of national authority authored
in consortium
by the governing class, and no other.

rocking heel to toe sounds muffled drum
danced to at the time our commons all occur.

They call it rock and roll. You had to be there.
It's different each comet cycle sync-upation.
- a wind in change,
- air
Brakes occurred in the future
to ease dying out
we get given five live generations
of earthings,
since we all agreed to work together to insure
some
hard
lessons taught us some things, you got no need
to ever even imaging having to, q\t shall will

Retry, letting this mind seem patient, as time
for any thing if ever is as we seem to agree,

this is that anchor, gnosis alle-alte gene
engin
Slowing, offering ferry reference, e
who carries my weight, since now
I have become
so light as to seem weightless, rationally

useless in the push and pull of mortality,
timed existance under the dome
of heaven done, done, done,
yet, here, one among the billions, am I.

Would you have me retell the tale
how power came to be contained
in our sharing of our fixed memories,
- laughter, comedy
held in the magic art of silent speech,
whispering, so low no curio can catch
my drift,
away… after another
day of being authorized to doubt
the worth of fame, weighed against
peace of mind attained with practiced
patience,
the needful knack, the talent accepted
at the indoctrination precepts writ in stone
tables with no method
stone, no- we got a half minute buffer

for overwriting, lest we let things slip,
who has known the power to make a mind
form from a mob of lonely people left behind,

to labor for the consumers increased apace,
as that which must be consumed, constantly,
as sure as certain measures make a man a
test is worth with burning passion
to hold enfolded pride content.
- by all rights,
- some folks are sincerely wrong
And Jesus fixed that, before you imagined
all this only can co-occur
in my not so distant future.

Printer's daemon in me, since I first cut
a ruby-lythical, mimeograph Desert Rat,
lens adjust
- juvenile mind, Huck-ready
- activates as whims open my window
- and my wife hands me a real burrito
Bean and cheese, green salsa
Synchronisities noticed occur,
in patterns akin to sunsets, snap shots,
each attached to one of our spiders, os so
since when,
Barry Rudd came to be suspicious,
in a Elvis song, you can't go wronng
don't be cruel,
to heart that's true--

Religiously devoted to denial of my debt
being paid… I just got laid, and my grandma

laughed, generation radioheads and beyond

good news, bobcats, nothing learned today
will seem even possibly true, the odds - well
fractalling all innings tied, in the millions,

to arrive at a settlement, to anchor a mind,
in one machine man, engineered via

patient fore gone conclusions… in new light

I'd guess about the third time around from the top.

A benign pain that prompts this body to squirm,
using systems setting up leaps by ffat faith
say it
read the signs map
our center of gravity,
straight uponasudden s'so

Ache of essential evil, the idea
as twisted to hold obediance and trust
a sequence of three nucleotides
that much
faith, the anchor, sunk to deepest silt
slipping, gripping

Now, asudden, solid clunk, as excess
chain links, add heft to defy the currents,
though we lay between the maelstrom
and the mountain Mohamed had to walk to,

finding solace, centering calm mindtimespace,
fidelitus, the strength of brothers, filial love,

such is the system, though it dissemble glory,
as pride, another name for fame, being known,

individual honor, be ******, stand attentive
war minded child, viewer of winning as the only thing.
And proud to know,
there is no mightier power
than the conjoined powers of self worth
among a fabled band
of brothers in war.

All who live for war, live for nothing more.
We rear such tools, in terror, certain
hell has more fury than any mind
attuned to the feeling of life taking, the ****,
sealing the deal, it was us, we killed, not me.

Thus it is for me to stand ready at parade rest.
Guarding the peace of docile servants needed
to work the systems used to feed the powers
that be,
by God, authorized… to correct misperceptions,
Yah as master, Jesus as YHVH transmitted as news,

to the worthy… those who hear with hearing ears,
and see with seeing eyes,

death has no horse in this race, death is not useless,
evil is useless, in as much as no good is formed with lying,

Ai, however, so old a coincidental parable,
the robe, from Shittim
and the wedge of silver, proving curses causeless,
do not come, olden days, done deeds, told exploits,

reused to exploit innocents, enslaved by holy terrors,
vengeance, wrath and justice,

the American way, or the rebel way? Who is confusing
whom, reflexive point

allness at onceness, in the beginning, prior to any thing
fusing will being with nonsense since no time can be come
from never before, by the very nature of truth,
made useless by trade-agreements, retied word bonds,
witnessed by the idea we hold, core-code, principal call
to take instruction,
feel a known need filled with knowing when and why

this must be after all that happened in ever- from when

your worth was estimated, your usefulness in the whole
truth wherein we live, as words, used to frame minds,

edgewise, surface, subsurface, facets of reasons fed
nationalized minds, pledged from first literacy,
to a state of mind, one nation, under God,
- times pastwastnought soooslooshow
- how now
and if your child hesitates, your shame, you
become me, the old useless writer of your own heresy,
most certainly in vain,
lest time and chance conspire, and I shift,
instance-ial substance misuse by taking line
after line, a indirect singular form of any or all
thought the direct thread as yet unbroken,

look up, look as far as mind as made us earth born,

adapt to constant rythms, daily tasks, as chores,
fill needs, these fibers from futures seen clear as day,
when the holier than any of us pray, as Jesus reportedly
has said to many saints attested to have violated physics,

by faith, alone, you see, when you pray, if you expect,
out see, from now,
to when we have these things, for which our cohort,
our active generational bubbles of being, our class,

yes, culturally adhesi-ify, class of __ whenever,
veteran, what era, which police action, policy enforcement,

mob mind fit to do an I'd die for, at the ready, parade rest.


Of course, off course, as winds,
after the rippling crustal waves,

leave mountains aligning
to the tilt about 23 Babylonian degrees
unstraight,

a slow wobble, tides can use, if use is
making do with power available--

messaging codons
exactly, the point, a, eh, hey
yah, wei we ululate wuwuwu wuwu
boom
boom, ideadom dons reason's robe
of right use ness, and calls my being
into questing ionic five prong forks

as we,
dis-integrate, slip into indeedadvisuals

done, did, done, done. Is that a chiral
stepstepslidestep, donedonediddone
chasse-
does it matter, you got a one track mind,
in a multiples of eight kind of pleasance
as muses used directly, long ago,
rewind
to limit ancestor worth-ship,
mete for master use, as a hero-type.

The Monkey King, and Veggie-tales Jesus.
Billy Bonny, Mack Boyett, Pat Garret,

Shane, standing on a box, like that scientology
advertisement for being all you can clear,
clearly there is an upper crust at the edge

past which, novels form, for sheer joy, daring,
clench, tight,
ai aight, we did expect something nearly this,

this reality, I may imagine, a dozen or two,
of time redeemers, tuning in to read the latest
best
guesser guest and host dialog, along
the patterns leaders were lead to reflect on,
see you being the man on the horse, on the hill,

not leading the charge, sorry, my childhood fantazt
aggravating itch to know if any one can hear me
now, itself represented in a most amusing way,

as we all have witnessed horrors, aplenty,
as we expect to see, we shall see, will not a factor,

when should and shall, meet at the moment, you know,
this is us being real, reading instants of self-re-co-gnosis,
this is us, you seem to weigh that/
what is balance, when absolutely
perfect.
still,
perfectly still and not falling or flying. Being and thinking
x happened y did not, the after word when this and that
become principal peace piece in the logical chain of previous,

thirty seconds laters, laters when we got to the edge,
and put the vbrakes, shushushibolethical ethos…
the children's teeth are set on edge,
as the old man rocks his chair and sets about to tell

the sworn to tell, do
do tell if you do not know, by your very nature,
codon level zero day,
gone on by, Lord, some time ago,
all that Jesus paid for was this moment, now,
see, in his sphere of influence, think like wind,

see so cold it got that all who knew the wedom
freedom truth, died and broke the chains that

let sayings develop their own proof of concept
exceptions to gravity overriding light, carpe

the medium, this in,
being not I nor I said me in my reflect-ion
spark quest. Lock. Read and stock the barrels.

I did and shall see myself doing so… watch

Close our eyes next time and see four
mandalas on the other side of my cell,
see those when you shut our eyes,
and think we have so many fine
points of perception in common.

Carrier wave consci-useness. This is.
Thank you for asking.

Thizfu r this it
this is our future, as I imagine u
reading being
clinkthunk

and you just know what I mean

I bought into a self e value retest tool,
you may take each test you ever passed
or failed,
again and again for a looping conceptual time,
or you may redeem your own per mission
state
ment. got it. as any model mankind post adam,
lacked natural flea bait.

Peace made for no rational cause, mere word play,
for me that would seem heaven,
on this current functioning world, leaning into
peace of truth, no secret rites of mutilation,

no horrid pantomines of Jesus failing to halt hell's
viral ways of re imagining the thousand faces,
each an ultimately lovable devil, blue dress

nark rhealize these b ethy finalization
achievement thesis theoria wind up, tightening

reeling in the years, eeeha,
If you took the ride, bring a friend and do it again... ****** *******
Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2015
Another thought,..  Wonder what it was about?
This night's list goes on, and on, and what was I doing?
Oh, fixing to amaze, engross and... uh,... ADD anybody?
Humor is a weapon used by the first one to usually be hurt.
I've seen it, in the polished wall that has my face, my...
**** it all to somewhere constantly on track, focused, intended,
Thoughts that seed, bud to grow, flower as the motivation makes
use of the ability to foresee its own finalization
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2021
I’ll be brief (about poetry writing)

giving up:

expelling of textual agitation in my breast,
expulsing supplies no more the longest relief,
its medicinal efficacy, worn down, placebo equal,
run its course, a good grief, displacing tired belief,
loss of poetry, boon companion, not too late, nor
too soon, conceding, everything due a finalization


woman prevented me from walking in the
tropical storms frothiness, opining to my whining
“that’s no way to cleanse a soul, you’ll lose your life,
not that weight that’s moved up inside, up from the gut
into hearts blocked chambers and clogged spokes.”


thinking the vocabulary, needs a thrift store trip,
to give it all away, besides, prove it, a good taxing,
donating  might be quite righteous undertaking, like
flushing of the ewes, needs some new nutrients for the ole
two handed sleight legerdemain.


promised brevity w/o levity, no floating, keeping my feet’s grounded, my animal kingdom, my editorial staff, says a good quitting time is hard to find, addiction, a rolling stone, needs a coldstone fence immovable.


grabbed rucksack, inside Hafiz, Ogden and Walt Whitman, all very good company men, head to the poetry nook, to get my soul brown deep tanned, and enjoy excellent conversations with the Lord,
‘bout childless women, why cancer, and if there be a decent chance we could work out a real substantive cooperative truce between
deity & humans,

one that could hold for longer than a day, a good working relationship ‘tween sky, sun, water and wind, ok, fractious occasional, but on the whole works ok, gotta makes some more notes to keep my new boon above, my new oh lordy buddy well-contented, non-grumpy.


p.s. being an admirer~reader is almost as good as being a writer

9:00 AM
Mon Jul 13
2020
as noted this was written in July of 2020, but never published till Feb. of 2021.
Mims Mar 2018
There is determination
Longing
And finalization
Between your lips
Skin tastes so much sweeter when its forbidden
the last thing I want to do is embarrass you
But I have longed for this for a while too.
CJ Sutherland Nov 2023
Contemplating
Anticipating
Determination

Tools of the trade;

Rhyming,
Timing
meter, flow
Not as easy
To get the
poem to Glow

Every word
Can be
A Segway
With a hook
Either
A mystery
Love story
Or an
Open book

Inspiration
Dangling                   participles
A poem’s journey
Can be
A long way
To go
Without
Structure
And flow

A single word
Phrase
Puzzle
Maze
Writer style
Must
Beguile

Haiku, limerick
Free verse, Ballard
Word Salad

Will
Present
Itself

To
Light.       The
Flame
   To
  Fuel
  The
Imagination
Emancipation

Organic
The mechanic
Segway
             Where
                    Words
                          Flow
       ­         FREE
Celebration
Exhilaration
Finalization

Waiting
Waiting
  Still
Waiting
Writers block I actually fell asleep waiting lol
preservationman Aug 2019
This is good bye world
My tolerance I can no longer stand
Everyone I come in contact seems to be my destroy
My life isn’t totally mine
My soul cries out
My flesh will soon diminish
My image was never distinguished
A knife I hold in hand being a quick death
My hour glass of time has run out
I will be no more
I see darkness being my final curtain
I have been tormented my entire life
I don’t need anyone’s advice
Uncontrollable storms that just don’t stop
The knife has pierced my heart
Blood pours
Moment
Once again, bye world
My death has already taken effect
Don’t have sorrow
There will be no tomorrow
Pity me not
Condemnation fits my slot
Finalization, I have gone beyond.
Harriet Shea Mar 2019
Lost in my world of silence, comprehending what had to be to make life perfect in my own mind, watching my spirit lifting softly flowing across the heavens of sincerity.
There cannot be a reason to be myself the way I am right now, till I can find my space away from rules made for those who lost belief in everything.
I cannot be something I am not, been always myself from way back before I was born, and will remain so till I no longer exist here on planet earth.
Being an old soul is something like a kite flying on and on believing in a love that shines a light to bring all mankind to their knees.
Finalization of spirit accepts love in the soul, flowing in rhythm with the wind across the nation after nation... No reason to suffer for something we do not understand, we live for what our thoughts create within our own beings, we make life the way we imagine it to be. Not always completely in sink with our emotions, close enough to grasp what we may believe what our mission is to completely finish our assignment on mother earth.
Still, we linger high among earth realities playing our harp of sweetness among knowledge we finally began to understand in depth of fear, turning face to the light, accepting love in the fullest. Surrendering heart brings harmony to
soul, eternal peace combines equal gimp es across our Universal plane, where we came from,  the beginning of our own comprehension and realization of the heartbeat of the world we live.
I have flown across the skies of wonder, sipped the waters of eternal life, climbed the tree of knowledge, putting my markdown before my time.
Have when within on a journey only I can soundly explain
we all need to journey within and find the fruit of life is ready for harvest.
Needing  my conscious mind to lead the way to where all
began, following each step upward, to the level of what we have learned through living life, we need that upper step to continue our level up, insurance of acceptance to believe it is possible to continue on without any doubts.
I have the faith to know that we are born to be born again in one consciousness, where answers should never be questions from the start.
Life may be complex till you find the wisdom living
life with self-control can be satisfying, easy to drift
across the heavens of dreams, thoughts mingle with ease forming life's own promises and realities.


(Life is our own reality)

Derena Bree
folks are busy preparing
millions of coffin
nails
making them ready to seal
tight the democrat's
entrails  

as the midterm election arrives
in two thousand and twenty
two
all the lefty policies shall receive
a finalization
*****

the congressional house and senate
under GOP
management
this change a most welcomed
kind of
arrangement
  
a lame adminstration going
nowhere
fast
on the folk's pent up discontent
die being
cast
Anton Angelino Dec 2023
Won’t namedrop but I knew someone, if you know you know.
No teardrops but I thought that I found a matching soul.
Foolish of me, ******* love me when I’m in my prime.
Gonna keep them nameless, you ain’t worth of my time.
I’m speaking hella sharp, but I’ve been cutting ******* off.
I’ve been hanging with the stars, looking down at them from above.
You’re either with me or against me, either **** me or respect me, won’t exploit me for your own gain, won’t deliver any more pain.
That’s what I’m saying.
There’s more fakes out there than you know.
Not namedropping any though.

I only keep up with my x’s to see the progress I’ve made.
Wish I’d thought of all the x’s on the list of things I hate.
I was desperate and had nothing, you were greedy and forced-laughing.
One thing I could never respect is stirring thoughts inside my head.
And I get I’m not your type and I get your friends are cooler.
Understand I’m not a nine, don’t rain money at the jeweler.
Don’t follow your buddies’ insta, you ain’t even on my finsta.
Finna unfollow you instantly, you don’t double tap my pics now.
And don’t call if you gon’ cancel, amped me up and why was that?
Then you asking me for Franklins like I owe you anything.
I’ve seen hints and indications, that you weren’t genuine.
I just wish I trusted my gut when you dropped out on me and ghosted.
Right before my prom, should’ve spoke over that graveyard silence.
What the **** was wrong with me to let that go like nothing happened?
Oh, I know.
I had nobody else.
Least I’m not hypocritical, I offed whoever bugged me on.
Killed them with a swoop of success, brought the scissors out, cutoff.
Wonder why I’m so proud now and the answer’s clear as day.
You would too if you evolved from prey to bird of prey.
If you gon talk about me, know I didn’t have to be your frenemy.
Actually scratch that, the act is off, I’ll proudly be your enemy.
You just wanted the gleam and the glory that I had to give.
Just so you know I almost called off a whole affair for it.
See, I’m not a faker, least I admit I wanted you like that.
Many years now, I still hope somebody does you just like that.
I still don’t wish you dead, your downfall’s not what’s in my mind.
I learn from self-inflicted wounds and don’t make that mistake twice.
Won’t namedrop, it applies to more than one.
No-named hoes, I feel my worthiness now.
I lost my Madison card now, pay deserved hostility back, dropped the invisibility act, I did all you said I couldn’t.
Rubbed it in your face like snow, envy’s stinging ***? You blew it.
I could have a boyfriend but I’m good and I will find tranquility in reproving.
Reflecting about them got me irresolute and so I’m calling your BS for improving.

******* want what you have, so I make what I have known.
******* take what you offer, in exchange they give you none.
Real ****, I turn the valve off, whatever we had is gone.
You ain’t getting any of me, not even the low and worst.
Won’t namedrop, but it’s all I’ve ever truly known.
Would namedrop, but that’s against my point.
Won’t call out, can’t win once the die are thrown.
We fell out out of place, cause you pushy like dominoes.
True story, ******* only loved me when I brought them pride by association.
Long story short, only acknowledged me upon receiving shared congratulations.
So I turned my back and ******* scattered disinterested in all directions.
I’d rather look for true bonds than relish false and forced appreciation.
And I ain’t feel the need to hear them say it for finalization.
If I said I hate you for that **** that’d be an exaggeration.
Grudge’s an understatement, I could argue but want no continuation.
One day you’ll perch in the shadow I cast and have your realization.
I heard unforgiveness is unhealthy, but since I found respect for me, I’ve been feeling myself.
You’ve got every right to hate me, sure as **** you won’t exploit me, you’d be playing yourself.
It’s these no-names that reinforced my insecure soul.
You gotta lose something to be grateful for your all.
You gotta have nothing to fearlessly give your all.
And as cliché as it is, every heartbreak makes you flyer.
Every stabbing gives you scars and the scars they give you power.
I take pride in my journey to a menace from a coward.
What I lost was never mine and what is truly mine will find me.
I could wait my whole life for it, nobody’s ***** just to feel happy.
Poem #10 off “Bella Goth”

Highly influenced by hip-hop lyrics. I’m calling out BS that should’ve been called out long ago. And I’m not giving these people any attention just cause they ain’t worth it.

— The End —