"fostering" poems
The engineers they tweak the DNA,
fostering changes to the RNA,
the plants becoming something else,
immunevolution modify man’s health.
And never will they accept the blame,
for their arrogance and dangerous game;
and when the food cannot be eaten?
History recall of the viral cretins.
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 11:12 PM UTC
Afu Ra Ka
Which reminds me
I'm just another Red Letter
Muslim Jew Adieu as Zen Master
says in the Tao of Hindu's Krishna as
Buddha's Bodhisattva's Love in the Great
Middle Way of Mother's Forever Embracing
Zarathustra a son's spiritual fostering to heirs as
Abraham of Love in Folly and Light All of Daughters
and All Sons Sown sowing in and out of forgiveness reap
Satyam Shivam Sundram Love Truly as Kindness in Action
as Beauty Be of Great Spirits's Ka- Alling Afu Ra's Childeren All
Must Be One Great Womb Where Our Love's Light Spirit Breathes
Within as without, above and below every rainbow I Am Another You
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 10:56 PM UTC
Heirloom rose petals fall delicately in the rabbit hole,
Rose tinted visions of you. Visions of ecstasy.
Adrenaline rush, crystal precipitation beads.
Perfection. Purity - You. Like snow covered marble.
Dopamine fostering the rush of euphoria.
Morphined sugarcane for blood vessels
& the labyrinth of love...
my gateway to wonderland.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
It won't stop,
It can't stop, the fire that is rushing through it,
Burning it's content until nothing but ash might be left,
An inferno, a firestorm maybe a rain of embers fueling the misery,
When did it start, that conflagration which consumes my being,
When will it end, this purgatory inside my chest, producing misery,
Without realising it I already gave up all my remaining hope,
After all, there is not much left this fire can feast on in laughter,
Will I be hollow, will I fade to ash and blown away into a soft breze ?
In the end it does not matter, in the end I will not be able to remember, in the end there is nothing for me left to worry about,
My central has been turned into a kiln, fostering this flame,
It may sting, but I can move on, even if I sink to the bottom,
The light in me will finally be able to carry me out one day
All I need to do for that event to be triggered,
Is to hold on,
And hope.
~ Umi
[M i d w a y - H i m e]
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC
So you think you are a master of techniques of persuasion?
You shallow pips-squeak, mediocrity is your mastery
the obsequious hoi polloi that surround you are the pitiable averageness of conciliation
Sophistry and subterfuge are your game of compromised facts
syllogistic arithmetic conceptualizing doesn't make anything so
your addition is flawed by your bungled bombast of banality and guile
fortunately for you, your crowd will never study logic
fortunately for you semi-literacy is de rigueur
You pompous swollen grandiose mass of hyperbolic gas
Fear is what you offer, lies are what you sell
your rhetorical flourish is as the stench of a waste dump
fetid, corpulent, fallow and febrile
toxic
half-truths, innuendos, ambiguities, conjecture and asinine aspersions comprise your specious fare,
fostering rumours, manipulating facts, you are the purported Biblical brood of vipers so extensively reviled against
Your relevancy is attributable to the dull stupidity so profusely prevalent today
Your "success" is the stuff of taint and treachery
You'll probably choke to death on a stuck piece of poorly masticated flesh
so appropriate and befitting the demise of a professional liar
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
"Who am I, mother?
Who am I and what do I do?"
–Norman to his mother Norma, "Bates Motel"
And so it goes, a split self - the protagonist defending the darkness as
Bizarre murders satisfy obsessions of a mothers love, taking a
Chefs knife, stabbing victims to death.
Dualistic wars within, a helpless man whose mother taught him of the
"Evils of women," instilling her own moralities of their wickedness.
Fostering the antagonistic personality of his mother
Giving to his incomplete soul a sense of wholeness.
Hidden behind the boy next door innocence, a terrified man
Incarcerated; locked & bolted
Juddering with fear - promising to adhere - set free said to be "cured."
Kleptomania returns; unearthing bodies from their graves, stealing skulls; a comforting souvenir, as
Loving anyone meant destroying them also.
Multiple personalities dominate him
Norman Bates becomes Norma; his mothers persona, crawling into her skin
Originating from their very kiss, kick starting a timeless love affair
Paraphernalia of skins tanned, butchered conquests -keepsakes turned to art & now protecting an un
Quiet mind
Reasons pertaining to mental insanity
Sectioned to institutions
Taxidermy as a young boy fascinated his mind
Urges to **** & fill, feeding euphoric highs, & even
Vertigo.
Women thrilled him; their smell lingered on each garment he kept.
Xenos to himself; who, am I mother?
Youth denied, cried away
Zenith ended; his final resting place behind the bars of Mendona Mental Health Institution, 1984.
© Sia Jane
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
The destination of a questing flame,
The concealed invincible core.
No longer able to hold back the emotions,
that once the flood has subsided, herald a new future .
Your concealed invincible core
fidelity arrives, bearing trust,
that once accepted, will not end.
Obliterating sadness, magnifying love.
Fidelity has arrived. Take his trust.
It will erase the confusion, you know what you feel.
Let it obliterate your sadness, magnify love, and pleasure.
The wheel of doubt and accusations, stops right here.
You can erase the confusion, you know what you feel.
Fostering love, when you need it more than everything.
The wheel of doubt and accusations, stops right here.
you are destined to rise up to the zenith.
Let me foster love, when you need it more than anything
Don't hold back your emotions.
You are destined to rise up to the zenith,
the questing flame of love, has arrived at your core.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Scholar gypsies are wandering as nomads
Like the yuppies of 1960s with guitars....
Singing as romantic heroes and heroines!
Men and women are living in singles......
With children too fostering like the birds
Learning about life seeing various cultures!
Gypsy life is a free life they feel in world
Having education but loving freedom more
To live independent life ever till the end...!
What a life this scholar gypsy life to live
Sans a family as even the animals like
Elephants and lions too like to live in forest!
Independence is needed to stand alone in life;
But can one live a complete life sans culture?
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
I'll be your rainstorm
Filling your deep desert cracks
Fostering new growth
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 9:53 PM UTC
I put back
our broken pieces
differently...
So everytime you look,
you'll find a new 'Us'...
I paint myself
each time with
an untouched
part of your soul
So the beauty of our love,
is captured within us...
And everytime you feel,
you'll find my heart
fostering the love
for you differently!
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 3:21 PM UTC
Do images of I appear in her thoughts?
Or simply the fostering of quaint fantasies?
Through all pandemonium paramour is sought
Though warded within profound secrecy
Frantic I plea for reprieve
To recover voluminous wounds
Renounce excuse to grieve
Slaughter the walls of this cocoon
'Tis never known where time will guide us
Underneath the sun she soaked hollow promises
Issuing surreal decrees decayed of trust
To romantic encounters she remains a novice
Genuine amour long since faded
Perennial you've become jaded
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
O Divine Matchmaker, pay heed to my plea.
I guard an egress open ajar, crusted by thorns
I guard this world against the odium behind it
I guard this door, not in service, Matchmaker.
My hands, grip on the barbs of this doorway
To keep it ajar, for a glimpse of my remittal;
Of the extant light of my sole soul so brittle,
Anneliese, Blessed with a name so celestial,
Anneliese, Cursed with a burden so menial,
Placidly fostering the lives behind that door.
Anneliese, my only mud-soaked nightingale.
O Divine Matchmaker, answer my quandary.
Am I to serve this world as an eternal Atlas?
Am I to forsake my mud-soaked nightingale?
Is our union ignoble to you, O Matchmaker?
How many unanswered sunsets remain alas?
In distraught, a thousand misereres, I penned
In every breath, I pine to pen a thousand more.
If only I had a drop of ink left…
If only I had a drop of ink left…
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 4:10 AM UTC
Filling up, wide eyed, breathing deep
Avoiding the spillage, the jerking motion
Rowers giving elbow grease to churn out sobs
Of substance, grandiose design to sorrow
Bold, emblazoned tears of texture, relay
Racing to the jawline finish, backup tissue
Business flourishing, mopping up the fast flow
Red eye fostering their talents with expertise
Glooping globules on rain dance alert, dancing
The tango, the rumba, the belly dance parade
Of unchained dam busting, snot ravaging
Sodden and damp, choking its route outta here
All cryed out, on empty, exhaustion reigns, eyelids
Closing the stop tap to the off position, rearranging
Priorities to sleep mode, sinking down into sprung
Heaven, resting heavy lashes to bed, curling up
To while away the hours, silencing the alarm
Of solitude and inner turmoil, resting the think
Tank, cells charmed habitat of hybernation
Booked and paid for, down payment secured
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 3:38 PM UTC
My birthday is today
Seventeen years since another Sunday at 9 AM
On top of a mountain called Ozark
In a land that reminded me of Harry Potter
Called Pettigrew like Peter
It's forests elicited sprites and daddy long legs
Made of me a changeling then spit me back out
I learned what real ice tea was at the age of three
It was my birthday
Doing Pirouettes on my aunts Patio
Again, under Arkansas stars
With faery lights leading my way
I ascended to the brush behind the house
Got lost in the greens and browns of paradise's supply
Returned with flesh painted the colour of love
In an apartment overlooking crab apple trees
Fresh Canadian foliage fostering a well concealed creek
On a 90 degree angle over a dark chocolate cake
My ninth birthday
I drank pickle juice because Vinny said it was limonade
I wore dresses that year
And coveted baskets filled to brim with blossoms
Baked the crab apples into a pie
But preferred mama's banana cream
I wore bandages on my arms
and grass stains on my knees
My tears washed away like Crayola markers
And my biggest inner questions had to do
With what was for breakfast
And the lifespan of a temporary tattoos
14 came with a big black bow
Done up gaudily in greys with a sad little smile
Three years marked with pink splotches and lines
A subject to hormones and arsenic tones
My birthday
A celebration of decay
And mama still sang, and baked, and kissed my face
And didn't wake when I placed cotton ***** in her ears
Because I was a happy girl
Today is my birthday
And mama exclaims
"No more babies! All four of you are so grown!"
But the mirror still illustrates an odd little show
With a baby face
A girls chest
And a womans hips
An ordinary freak all stitched up
Awkward and too much of everything
But not enough all the same
And inside I know
Is a sea of paradoxical Samanthas
Some stubborn and loud
Some shy and reserved
All with changes to make
Books to read
And places to go
And only few that are quite wanting yet
To be 17
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
I fell short of matching all of the stars in space with the raindrops that made its way to Earth
Instead, I matched the stars in your eyes with the old pain's last breath and otherworldly love's first
The clouds have opened back up for business, booming thunder and zooming lightning
Somewhere there, the flash of your smile
The beat of your heart
The coolness of your waters that quench my thirst for you
It's natural to look at nature au naturale
Like Italians and Nigerians talking with hands as expressive as Deaf lovers relay romantic verses
Clear, nimble fingers that massage my soul within the cumulonimbus and nimbostratus
Fueling, flooding, fostering the gods' apparatus
You
The final form of unfinished paintings
Give birth to worthwhile wishful thinking
On my mind like taxes and teacher's lesson plans
A soft brush adjusting to the sky's new hues kissed like ones we've missed or knew
A masterpiece in pieces of Vishnu's vision for when he returns to look for Lakshmi
Hopefully time will not be Shiva to end this for me
How does it feel to be adored by Indra, when showers descend and drench the deepest ditches to force creation of drawbridges for those dire to cross your path again?
- Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2021
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 5:00 AM UTC
Where does one start if not with the absolute I,
Beginning with sight,
The sun kept clockwork in check.
The kids kept their songs in their heads
The parents kept photo albums full of smiles where a split second
Becomes the cover letter for years of dread.
The page kept condensing life that is better left unsaid,
While the reader kept considering the page a part of him.
Beginning with sound,
The ocean kept grinding the ground.
The guitar kept articulating the waves that come from
A place that can be found
In the engine of muscled bone,
Arriving at what you know
Through nature's transient code,
Read between simultaneous consideration of scope
And a song that keeps you on your toes.
Beginning with touch,
The cage kept the prisoner condemned
Who was slave to the ego's violent whims.
Hunger ravages the idealism of men,
Who kept on believing in sensory over stimulation.
While rapid eye sleep kept fostering shackled sheep
Towards their only release.
Beginning with dreams,
I start to seem incomplete
Fuzzy puzzles kept flagging themselves as urgent but unapparent in meaning
And even faster in disappearing
To make room for me.
A resurgent thief
That kept insisting on stealing a mind's freedom to be.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
Art is a hell of a *******
drug, I tell you
it surreptitiously creeps
into you in a way that is
utterly indecipherable,
and lures you deep;
deep into it as the void above...
For the eye loves
what it sees,
and what's been seen
by the eye
is rather fascinating to the soul,
Amidst all these
Overwhelming emotions,
a harmonic converge
between the eye and the soul
is created,
Fostering a sui generis ecstatic rhapsody!
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
Luscious lovers strangled by sheets of seduction,
Is this for real or is this our thirst for another,
Do I need companionship?
Or was the **** simply not good enough,
A man on a makeshift crutch
With a dependency fed by lust
Not a ******* son,
But close to the Judas of Love,
Defying what those before me had done,
Doubting the prospects of the one
So beyond the romance and the monogamous harmony,
All I care about is the curves that caused us,
To get close enough to realize,
It’s no longer about trust,
Since a physical attraction caused us,
To get close enough,
To experience what we can’t live without,
Is this a weakness or my evil plot?
To enjoy what I perceive,
Without the prospects of a teaching an infant to walk,
An action that caused a religious reaction,
A natural necessity once socially ingested,
We are fighting to keep from,
Regurgitating our misguided perceptions,
Of what brings you and I close enough,
To abandon those popular convictions
An extension of humanity,
The exemplification of our species physical conformity,
In the wake of a pleasure, an enjoyable experience,
Came prospects of fostering generations to show what we’ve done,
My fantasy goes beyond the seductive sheets of lust,
As I hope that my words will one day be carried with those who follow,
Those who will inherit a world of,
****** deviants,
Ego edified lunatics,
And love.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
*what a love you speak of in sonnet
and in the battle of the Somme!
no wonder Shakespeare is disputed!
only among actor and not poet the two should care.*
free floating lizard akin to the pickle
serpent worth of spine,
she's there, attired in the sun, a biblical
woman hardly a name worth remembering,
why? because she's all *****
and you're all... well... ending up laughing
long after the F.A. cup result is in
and she's lost her daydream...
ooh... 2 nil... i too was into the Faroe Islands
rather than into Craggy Island of: *'drink! drink!
dingy Titanic twin tuck 'n' sunk lucky bet!*
no, really, i was reading an article and started
to laugh... some ***** with a Stephen Hawking
jpeg., i goo my hashish high with porridge...
she said Ibiza was fine with hens but not stags...
she mentions shaggy **** with dispensation
& carrier pigeons of philanthropy or abuse that
fostering advice involves... well, cheap jokes
elsewhere, crucifix over here? what fun to suit
comedy!
NONMONOGAMOUS... ? hey! why not try
a zygote relationship! if trans or bi or hetero
or **** doesn't work? all men around seem
to say the same: i'm not ready for this arson of talk
with a woman tongue replacing both bullet and rifle,
tank, cannon and an arab ******* on holiday...
give me extinction... i'd listen to the lizard man
that hear of mammalian love, that's as much cold
blood with the lizards as i had to learn with keeping
things i worked for being jealous:
it seems it was easier to keep a thief that way than a dog.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
"My people refers to me as Adamant,"
Adamant, this
Adamant, that
Adamant, ruin their marriage.
Adamant, make the politicians **** one another.
"What do I get for being Adamant?"
Come here, Adamant
Stay away, Adamant
Chant me million of butterflies, Adamant.
Learn how to nurture, Adamant.
"But I will not be Adamant no longer,"
Adamant, this
Adamant, that
You will love yourself, darling.
Fostering kindred soul within us all.
"God bless you. Not me,"
Adamant, darling
Adamant, dear
You are God.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Sweet dimness of her loosened hair’s downfall
About thy face; her sweet hands round thy head
In gracious fostering union garlanded,
Her tremulous smiles, her glances’ sweet recall
Of love; her murmuring sighs memorial;
Her mouth’s culled sweetness by thy kisses shed
On cheeks and neck and eyelids, and so led
Back to her mouth which answers there for all:—
What sweeter than these things, except the thing
In lacking which all these would lose their sweet:—
The confident heart’s still fervour: the swift beat
And soft subsidence of the spirit’s wing,
Then when it feels, in cloud—girt wayfaring,
The breath of kindred plumes against its feet?
1.6k
I've tried to record
The way your name falls out of my mouth
When I drop glass onto the floor
Like my mothers list of forbidden words
In spreadsheets
Counting with fingers and letters
Every time I pass a red pushpin in a map
Of where you told me
"You're so young and immature"
Like a compliment traced with
Sobriety and melatonin
I've picked up pencils
That end up in pieces
After scrawling your dialogues
Onto "it's your own fault" paper
I've scrubbed myself raw
With people who wont
Look me in the eyes anymore
With your goodbye words
With the flashbacks of
Your hands manifesting
The uncharted areas
Of my brittle hips
How my ****** syllables were
Dinner party jokes
There's nothing that can hurt
A god of power
And business suits
Someone who's never told no
Holds a child
In a way that erases the thought of comfort
And now
I lack the maturity to refuse requests
And you tell me
I'd make a good corpse
At a funeral catered towards
Twenty-nine year old men
Who never learned the difference
Between property and personality
And my promises
Tighten around my throat
Gratefully
Like your hands
Fostering the
Aurora Borealis of love
In a way that
Makes me choke on
The things you've shown me
The things you've ruined for me
The words I will never get back
And I sit
With you surrounding me
In and out of every crevice of my body
You've claimed for yourself
Helpless
And defeated
Like a child
Just how you like me
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
There she goes
With each and every thought that flows.
Painful memories flooding her mind
Never leaving those days behind
She is strong
Even though she is sometimes wrong
She questions herself
"was all this worth it?
Why did it have to end this way?
Was everything, from the very start,
Meant to go astray?"
OBLIVION was all she seeked now
It was her shallow
Her shelter from the deep and dangerous sea
Yes, she was broken indeed!
Had it all been a dream?
She doesn't seem to know
Her dream of the world being a happy place,
All melting away like snow.
Her innocence killed
Smashed, crushed all the way
"Ruthless she is" is what others say
Let there be peace, love and happiness is all she prays
She wants to be the change
The flare that starts the fire altogether
She wants to touch the stars
She wants to sing her heart out
She wants to love like nobody has
She wants to give the world hope
Something to look forward to
Something to wake up for
Is that too much to ask for?
Yes, she is harsh
But what made her that?
All those painful things she heard,
All the loathsome things people said
Made her foster hate for her close ones
Satisfaction is something they never seemed to find
Their thirst for perfection was never satiated
She felt like she was a liability
Something they were ashamed of
Yes, she hated when she burst out on the people whom she loved
But what else was her way of venting out?
Her solace became a boy
The one who loved her
Who adored her
The one who made her believe that there was still hope
He was her rock
The firm and dependable stand
The one who taught her to be calm
He spoke to her everyday
Made sure she was alright
Consoled her when she cried...
though she was rude to him at times,
He gave her second chances
He was her midsummer night's dream come true
How long would he stay by her side?
She wasn't sure
He was promising and his love for her- unconditional, irrevocable and extraordinary.
She asked him to wait
So he did
If he doesn't have her
The sun doesn't shine
His world doesn't turn
And her love for him grew each day
Every passing minute only made it increase
"It's just a phase" she said
"I guess it is INFATUATION"
But who knew that she was fostering only love for him
TRUE and PURE
He was all that she could ask for
But she knew that her heart was beyond repair
She thought of herself as the carrier of ill-luck and unhappiness
She tried distancing him
But it only got them closer
And what happens next
She couldn't say
But all she knew was that things were meant to be this way
She started being happy
She laughed and enjoyed life
For him she tried
And all she asked for now
Was a stable, happy and peaceful future
Without a broken heart and shattered dreams,
Without nightmares and those hollow screams!
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC