"grouping" poems
psychologism, i.e. neo-racism, neo- due to it being without any collective ethnic collectivisation, best insinuated by marijuana users, grouping alcoholics with ****** sharp shooters; they think they have the moral high ground, but they talk jack sh-: medicinal marijuana is synthetic marijuana / ore without casual-use effects, it's not the sh- you put in your **** have a *** change and tell me about children suffering from cancer while you're at it: because those starving children of africa adverts... are really really working... knowing that the man in control of such charities earns over half a million a year - post-colonialism only really works while you have former colonial indigenous peoples nearby, then you can milk that ***** cow from the locals... make sure you think the nairobi international airport has a dirt runway and you'll feel all ******* fuzzy giving money to these companies... post-colonialism only works like that... import some former colonials to milk the former colonial whites into coughing up money & guilt... then watch the irish get leery with sarcasm at almost anything... and the scots gear up pride and become politically malignant... the good friday agreement? tony blair did as much as / avoiding-tax cigarettes smuggled from eastern europe west of the ural mountains exchanged in belfast... but geographic borders were never used in rhetoric in politics... because ireland was always further west than iceland: as oaths go... it was a neighbour of liberty iseland... with the true statue of liberty in a moulin rouge cancan attire, skirt up, flame extinguished - although ***** as hell: and in koranic reality, requiring a harem for her three holes.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
Reese’s Pieces are for people who
Are used to picking up the pieces
Of broken hearts
But they still want to make it
A good experience
Smiles that look like peanut butter
And kisses that taste like chocolate
Butterfingers are for the kids who
Are used to being picked last for
Everything except to cheat off of
In math class
They’ve grown accustomed to
Not being thought of
Popular kids like the M&Ms;
Because in the end
What else do they have except
For the stories of muses
And the parties they attended
One-by-one they picked apart
Everyone who didn’t act just like them
Pop Rocks are terrible and
So are Peppermint Patties
Crunch bars and 100 Grand’s
Made the jocks think they would actually
Go somewhere and do something
With their lives
Hope comes in strange forms
Monkeys don’t know the difference
Kit-Kats are for the hipsters
Talking a little too loud about mustaches
Listening to music that nobody knew
Grouping around vegan lunch tables
They would break off one by one
When another clique accepted them
Anything made by ***** Wonka
Was a favorite of the kids who
Knew who they were and
Weren’t ashamed
After all, what does candy say
About any of us
Clothes and shoes
Were only disguises
To hide us from the world we
Desperately wanted to fit into
If you had a Five Star notebook
Started mattering a lifetime too soon
When I step into the convenience store
I picture the kids that I know
Because of the candy they ate
I regret having such a sweet tooth
To pick apart kids’ lives
With nothing to satisfy the bitter
After-taste of social humiliation
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
Oh man oh man you should have seen him
I said whiteness is a mental illness
a dissociative disorder
dissociating from being human to construct something
constantly
never finished
never human until it stops
his head started to shake
then spin around like an angry owl
people were scared
the police stopped traffic
a priest came for the exorcism
the man made out the words
“I…no…you can’t just group everyone together like that”
see what I mean
thats dissociative behavior
whiteness is the grouping of humans
it is not an ethnicity
like the humans are actually made of
that it tries to possess
It needs to stop
It has had impunity due to legal dissociation
Whiteness was invented
to create skin color based slavery
for profit
for the exploitation of being human
unless you are trying to create slavery
whiteness is a mental illness
needs treatment immediately and those
that whiteness traumatizes by dissociation
also need impunity and protection from
a genocidal maniac called whiteness
narcissistic
smash its mirror
to treat whiteness as a mental illness
and to treat it
is overly compassionate
considering it is actually criminal
the mans head stopped spinning
he came back and said calmly
“Thank you. You are right."
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
I'm writing these are a class project! Feel free to judge!
The starry night, filled with light,
Mother Nature at her height,
Wall of blaze, so scarlet bright,
None near escaping, no one might.
Flames rose, higher and higher,
Shrieks and screams, life so dire,
Then silent came, peace a liar,
For thousands died in the roaring fire.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Distant clouds, go round and round,
Darkening silence, not a sound,
Imminent storm, clouds inter wound,
Vapour like wisps reach the ground.
Wisps tower. Clouds grouping,
Intense power. Motion stooping.
Energy soaring, Nature's violence
Winds roaring. Area timeless.
The cloudy sky, begins to cry,
Even as the clouds up high,
Begin to spiral, create an eye,
Come whooshing down, covering the light.
Swirling tempest, whirling storm,
The tornado begins to form,
Fierce gale, thundering gust,
Tearing houses, leaving husks.
The storm rages, no one can flee,
For winds spin faster, tear down trees,
Finally subsides, the clouds go free,
But the damage is done, too much to foresee.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 5:47 AM UTC
1. Grumble
Of pugs. Or old men. Correlates to the grouping
of wrinkles: smile lines (down) whiskers (up). Synonymous to a gaggle of geese. Or women.
A grumbleman steps on the Pug's tail
and a passing girl hears
a crack, yelp, **** She turns to help
but the grumbleman is gone and the pug
with him. She wonders why her neighbor's car
is still at her Mom's house? Why her Mom
wants to be called Veronica not Mary. One night she dreamed Veronica dancing on their roof
in the rain holding tight to an old red picture whispering to a woman on the lawn dancing
dry in white. She tried to call out to Veronica
she saw her slipping, but when she touched her lips
She felt them sewn shut with coarse, wet thread. Veronica turned and flew to her, to the window, grabbing her hands forcing fingers to feel
the brail graven into her Mother's giggling teeth that read, Don't look, your father will be bleeding soon. She awoke and her window was bound
in greased black leather. The floor ashen. Her lips still sewn
shut.
Anne stood,
picked out her fathers bones
Veronica had sewn into her
pillowcase
and
she
danced.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
Temperature raised.
Five bone shiver syllables.
Parent. Haiku-er.
Diarrhea-ing.
Five winter sick syllables.
Parent. Haiku-er.
Projectile *****
Five flu season syllables.
Parent. Haiku-er.
Temperature raised.
Five kids splash in backyard pool.
Haiku-er. Parent.
Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 7:07 PM UTC
Do not stress over the broken dreams of yesterday,
Cracks in the walls of your good intentions allow the glimmer of light,
Neither sought or understood,
To shine through.
You cannot know what awaits,
Not can you have more than the slightest effect on your life's outcome for 'you' as you know yourself to be is nothing more than a grouping of molecules more complex than the universe you reside in and your thoughts and designs no more authored by you than your eventual fate.
So please do not angst over broken hearts and what may have been,
You never really had a chance anyway,
Yet realize that something good and often better will come for within you resides the universe just as you reside within it.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
There's matter and there
is energy
Both are the same
in this way
Neither can be created
nor destroyed
just transformed
Atoms and molecules
and what's moving
grouping them
together to form life
All these little things
making up bigger things
We are so small,
so small we can't
physically see what
we're making.
Is that where all
our wonder comes from?
Looking around the room
at the still objects
I see all these
moving particles coming
together to be.
What is holding them
together? What is
their purpose of connection?
Energy is working
always to influence
all of creation.
This energy is always
moving, whether seen or not
always giving and taking
It's so minute
and completely vast
simultaneously
It's the connection
to everything
It is my spirit
that keeps me alive
and the change
into new life when
the atoms change
and the body dies
Only acknowledgment
of the profound energy
can lead to the
answers of our wonder,
the reason for life
Focused on physicality
the bigger picture
will never be seen
The bigger picture
is too big for our eyes
but that's why we have;
Our minds
to sort out
the manifestations
And our hearts
to hold onto purpose
It will always
be hard to explain
something so much
bigger than ourselves
but I know
every part is vital
Every part is conjoined
to the last and the next
making up one
That is reason enough
for me to want to be
a helpful change
a good person
and forgiving.
Anything is possible
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 2:00 PM UTC
just because your problems are bigger than mine,
doesn't qualify you as being
better than me;
but sure, we need apes, like we might encourage
buying stake at the butchers and
a quasi-Narcissus reflection in Darwin...
that's what happens when presupposing
someone's supposed idiocy, it happens
that way in democracy, without a autocratic godhead
of authority, many more are prone to being
prescribed madness, because being sadistic
with dementia patients and those disabled is all
that more rewarding than when a "patient" can punch
you back, bloody-nose your face...
and this is how Christianity makes sense?
might as well call the adherents of Christianity
children wetting their beds and fuelled by a desire
to maim their fellow examples of the species...
Darwinism will not do... it's a farce...
the animals involved to a categorical grouping
would not do what humans do to each other...
so we evolved from monkey to escape the tiger
and the snake? i hardly think tigers or snakes killed
with sadism involved... for pleasure...
but if the sadistic impulse was always ours...
we evolved for no good reason...
i'd rather experience the hunger of the tiger
or the snake than experience the sadism of a fellow human being...
and that's a humanism, it doesn't invoke a god
or morality that should be kept...
i'd rather a tiger **** me for sustenance than some
trivial bog-standard thief from the London estate knifing me
for a ******* bike... i'd rather end up in a tiger's digestive
system than in the "evolved" court-of-law debating
bicycle theft -
animal-cohesiveness knows no sadism,
human-overpowering of animals knows everything
but humanism, hence the need for humanism per se,
poetry and a novel... we write poetry but at the same time
perform holocausts... if we are evolutionary products,
we are by evolutionary standards a successful paradox...
we contradict the pluses with the negatives we produce
subsequently... we have evolved / transcended
the original parameters... but we did so paradoxically;
i'd still rather die from a tiger easing my death
by the vampire-bite of my neck that
the exfoliation abiding with the electric chair or
the iron maiden... the author of the Bonfire of Vanities
got it wrong... we really did use our imagination...
we used imagination for the expression of torture...
Disney can do **** all than quack like a duck
to quiet simply approve the endemic continuance
of the practice... because most people will
simply apply for t.v. and come dine with me
spectaculars.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
She gave me the Plankton
The lowest lifeform of her being.
Anointed with this discovery
I too gave in and shared with her a deep
and impenatrable solace within me.
Such truths arent always shown in sight
of others.
Nor are they whispered in ear shot,
But somehow
She burrowed right through them.
Empathy in a female form!
And not jaded and wrought with thoughts of imorality.
Day by Day she would come and take frlom me these
deviant caverns and restlless ideals sprung forth from
absence of maturity in child hood and loss of faith
as a growing man in the seamingly uncommon trait and
beauty each human claims the next has deep within.
The savage mastication of delerious greed
Usually self righteous. Sweetlt nipping at the arms of the impoverished.
the malady spreading further through while the ogres stomp their feet for attention
puffing up their chest like creatures and only for a moments pay they contract a virus
all to familiar in their learned ways.
her delicate hands grouping at the flesh id presented brushing away the small
inconsistences and as i vaguely remember now and to this day
she slipped a finger inside and in the membranes and masses an ease would fall over me.
the rush of expelling all that ales you within is a euphoria like no other.
Yet each time she would leave something behind.
Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
I think harmony is one of those things,
that can only be determined from an internal blueprint.
Concepts emerge,
and this reasoning is extracted,
from beautiful objects and ideas.
Simply,
an idea formed,
and framed
by a
grouping of
other ideas.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC
I long for a means coalesce like particulates in suspension and not coagulate.
Into a monstrous scab.
I hate to make cheloid tissue of this deadly grouping.
Id **** to be whole by finding a pairing.
The obstruction to human progression,
The roadblock of progress,
We are merely all platelets in this wound.
These free thinkers are the only.
Thing. Holding in all of the blood of the truth in man's march.
The moon was the beginning the end is the sun.
To a fusion of the atom,
And the birth of our flux.
To the birth of our achievement,
When we let loose the wound.
When the inside has healed and we aren’t bandaging the fumes,
Of a gaseous existence to penetrate everyone’s lungs,
With the stillness of thinking and the spirit of calm.
Currently.
We wait in the basement.
Sitting for our,
Plan.
To strike.
We will strike the match that flames the fumes of human resistance and build a castle of knowledge, hope, science, and destroy the sinkholes for progress.
The things that deplete our resources,
And the fire in our eyes will stab into every bastilles walls.
Of evil.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
I roll my eyes instantly at the mention of "race" and "gender"
Having been oversaturated and now it's bitter on my tongue
Taught to look for agendas and obssessions
Hyperfixation on trauma and eras and mental health
I suppose everyone is mentally unwell when we go seeking for what makes us damaged
And perhaps we are delusional, creating things that aren't there, but we speak it into existence with the power of our lips making shapes and noise,
creating the next trend, lingo, aesthetic,
grouping, pairing, splitting, naming,
explaining away everything.
God this world makes me dizzy.
Feb 6, 2024
Feb 6, 2024 at 12:35 AM UTC
you are a man of many colors;
i am a woman of none.
you shine bright;
i am dull hue.
you blend in with the sun;
i fade into the background.
i float down the river
to the other seemingly grey
bodies of despair.
you stay on land,
grouping with other rays of light
and you all share stories of good times --
which are those times you aren't with us.
we cannot blame you.
we hardly even like each other.
we're as different as night and day,
black and white;
hot and cold.
i just wish our differences
could have kept us at peace,
instead of stripping us down
until we were cracked
and shattered bones
trying to find the glue
that held us together
in the first place.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC
Privatised education
Who makes the value judgement
This is the curriculum
One way dictation
Guinea pig nation
Grammar schooled politicians
State school interventions
Exclusion barriers set
For achievement prevention
Protection of the upper class
Speak out and its detention
National competition
Increasing grade inflation
Professionals and academics
Know the agendas
Compromise your ethics
Its in your best interests
And join them in
Reinforcing the system
Double bind situation
So preach equality
But have ability grouping
That will diminish self-esteem
And confidence
De-motivate and you get drop-outs
Disaffected generations
Power dominance
Controlling
And hierachy infestations
Of contradictions
Maths Science and English
That's what they're wanting
Music Art and Drama
And it's not worth it
You won't get a proper job
Value diversity
So you test them all the same
Assignments and exams
Product vs process
Learn for the test
Not for the sake of knowledge
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
Stupid ******* idiots saying stupid ******* things.
Spit flies from flapping gums spewing up unresolved equations to unremembered problems...it all flutters about amongst other absences of thought.
Speech and wording corrosive to the ear as volume beats out the drum.
Love, or its absence, held as the sole theme for soulless thought, all as teen angst is misinterpreted as teen spirit... god it smells like ****
Talking now without any recognition of borrowed phrasing and copyrighted conclusions.
Why must they continue spouting irrelevancies to a grouping of irrelevants?
So tired now...time to quit writing in pen...need to learn to mimic, tracing poor thoughts in crayon
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 3:15 PM UTC
#
*Darkness...
As she once again
slips back into herself--
down beneath the ocean's,
tumbling waves.
I am yapping alot..
about things..
those pertaining to Life--
about things that make us well
about things that make us un-well.
About a world
that acts so much like
it cares.
She withers..
within her heart's need to Love
within a much less than loving,
world
My beautiful has slipped under,
but only for a little while
or maybe a couple of those whiles
if necessary
She is re-grouping..
re-charging..
Often, just very barely
holding on
. . .
I will wait here, Believing..
that within the Universe's
deep Love for her,
there will be a re-gathering
Leading back
to the most beautiful,
of gatherings.*
#
Feb 7, 2022
Feb 7, 2022 at 7:54 PM UTC
History is being made right before us and all you can contribute is contempt? Since when have we all become so polarizing? There has never been a civilization not built on war.
I'm all for mind over matter,
but If all lives matter?
than please respect mine
Show admiration not shame
Because they aren't to blame
It's hard to remain sane and ignore
When every month it rains and it pours
They see looting and dysfunction
I see grouping and discussion
Anger is no way to communicate
But it's the best commute to irate
I'm all for mind over matter
But if all lives matter?
Than I don't care whose
Business you mind
Just as long as you
Don't mind mine.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
I would not trade one year of my life.
Not those requiring great caverns of energy
simply to rise and meet the day
nor those from which pain has burrowed
deeply in the delicate fiber of my psyche.
For every decision by me and others, each
grouping of words that have passed between mouths
every face that has touched or met my gaze
have left tiny autographs for me to read and interpret.
And I like who I have become,
observation, trial, success and error
all training my intuition,
I see her and trust her with implicit acceptance!
Guided by glory alive in sun and soil
knowing thyself is my greatest feat
I create my own creed with which to live by
a truth that is mine, and mine alone
no one can steal it, but contribute quietly
my teachers come in many forms
surrounding me in ways only I can understand
For I will live true to my genuine self!
recognize my gifts and use them for good
have intimate, meaningful and loving relationships
value human beings and bestow demonstration
learn always, my mind remained open
develop my character with un-tethered honesty
impact humanity in positive ways
embracing the present, in fullness and experience
because there is beauty every way we turn.
That I am alive in this moment is greatness
and wisdom begins with this realization.
“Here is the test of wisdom,
Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,
Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it,
Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,
Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things;
Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.” --Walt Whitman
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
years
are only a collection of months
months
simply a grouping of days
days
merely 24 short hours
an entire lifetime
is just a string of sweet short moments
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
It’s that one swing with that ax
A Turkey’s emotion being before feeling perplexed
No place to run
The oven being already prepared
A Turkey in not having a neck
All the other grouping Turkey’s thinking oh heck
What a way for a Turkey to go
However you might see a flying Turkey escape in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade
The Turkey only thinks he has made it in the shade
No one at your Thanksgiving feast will ever know
Follow that balloon being the flow
Eat, Drink and be thankful
Don’t drink and drive, but do arrive alive
Happy Thanksgiving to one and all
Just remember the Turkey that you saw
Gobble Gobble Gobble
Anybody for a game of squabble?
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
Pitter
Patter
Ever thought of the life of a raindrop
Flying through the atmosphere
Such an idyllic trip
Then Splat!
Shhh
Shhhhh
But that's not the end of the story
Filtering through rocks and sand
An inevitable journey
Then Splash!
Swishing
Swashing
Travelling in underground caverns
Darkness slowly ebbing
Light sneaking in
Then Flash!
Trickle
Trickle
Rivulets become streams become rivers
And all the while flowing to the ocean
A delightful destination
Then Ouch!
Whisper
Whimper
Old Sol beams down his scorching rays
Drawing water vapours into his embrace
Rising, grouping, clouding
Then . . .
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 6:43 AM UTC
Around the bend
On the usual street with the usual words
Exchanged in hushed whispers
Is anyone listening?
Across the avenue
A loud sound, or two, or eleven
Exchanged from one gentleman to the next
I fear for myself
Under the bridge
The pressure of my peers
Exchanged under the palm, between fingers
Do I dare succumb?
Beyond my window
A grouping of indifference, single file
Exchanged by words held aloft
I see familiar faces
Hear familiar voices
Feel familiar feelings
Through the city
On my way to school
Exchanging hands with Sister, tightly
I don’t feel safe here
Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 12:48 PM UTC
From the cold sweat that lays on your hands.
The constant grouping and kissing.
Inside my head is were these actions fell.
Such activities filled with lust and pleasure.
Ecstasy intoxicates my body.
Filling it whole with your love.
Groans float around the room.
An unimaginable satisfaction.
My teeth biting your neck.
Nails digging deep into your back.
Your skin so soft and supple.
So tender and gentle.
As I corrupt you.
With acts of lewd favors.
I control your mind.
Body and soul.
You are my toy.
For these ever lasting nights.
Until the door cracks open.
If just a smidgen.
Distraction dares interrupt.
My very moments of ****** despair.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
Notice we always want,
what we do not have?
Mostly its money,
recognition or such.
Or, it's what we missed
or left behind.
We pine for the
should have been ours.
Selfishly.
For we ignore,
this great gift.
We simply overlook,
what reflects in the mirror.
A unique collection of cells,
a grouping of thoughts,
living. An unnatural state,
by rights, it would appear.
So maybe we should
instead consider ourselves,
unbelievably fortunate.
In simply living.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 2:48 AM UTC