"guidelines" poems
Science says that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.
But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied in...the highlights of passion.
These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.
Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.
Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.
Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.
This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds parallel eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...
See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?
This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.
Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.
Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 10:53 PM UTC
I want you to be entirely distracted by my surface
the sunlight above me
I want you
I want you content with my forecast of calm waves
each encounter
Follow my subtle guidelines
Behaving as a good mother I"ll command you out of the ocean
if you swim too far from shore
Or if you dare plunge your head under me
Sexually
Remain floating on my surface layer this is where the
honey moon stage lasts
Do not stare into the eyes of a hurricane
storms in me churning off the coast of "you had no clue"
will leave you washed up on Island Nowhere
Absolutely no swimming after sunset
I don't care if you hear the waves sigh all night
In this situation I am God knowing whats best for you
saving you from drowning in my cycle
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 9:49 PM UTC
They say the pen is mightier than the sword
If this is true then God was the sword and you were a pen
And I was the pencil who laid you a foundation of erased mistakes only for you to trace upon them as if they didn't exist.
And I was cast in the bottom of some cluttered bag
while you were gently capped and placed in a box lined with blue silk,
And you knew I would always be there to test the waters before you spilled the pages with your brash delicacy.
But you needed me and I craved you for completion.
Together we created sweeping illustrations and lengthy novels with dozens of sequels.
We depicted a tale of modern love in our ball-pointed journey.
But my graphite stayed intact while your ink started to run out.
I could see as our pages unfolded that your colors no longer spread as boldly.
You became more and more invisible as I desperately etched harder and harder into every page hoping to give you clearer guidelines
but you no longer had it in you.
And soon enough we couldn't make anything beautiful.
You had run out.
And I'm still hopelessly drawing maps desperate that you can regain what you once had and use the indentations on previously blank pages to find your way back to me.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
my intelligence is not defined by a number, nor a letter.
nor should I be graded on a curve
by people
who don’t know me.
What does knowing the pythagorean theorem
have to do with me being a good person?
what will memorizing words on a page
help me with my rage
raging about how education has become
this conveyor belt
chewing up and spitting out
society’s warped up idea
of intelligence.
Throw me in a classroom with twenty-something students
just to tell me I’m better than him
but not as smart as her
teachers saturating our brains
with force fed textbook equations
telling us this is what we have to know to make it
“make it on time”, they say
“Passing it in late is not okay”
but when I am eventually thrown out
of this conveyor belt of education
the realization will be that life does not have
a set schedule.
my life will not change on time, as you ask
I cannot cram my creativity onto a five-paragraph
piece of paper.
I cannot crunch my knowledge
down onto six pages
about who I am
Don’t give me guidelines
my future does not have guidelines
you think you’re teaching us information
but in reality, you’re teaching us around the system
of how to get a passing grade
but not the exceeding knowledge
knowledge about what?
Our history?
what about our future?
We can’t learn about our future by staring at a blackboard
in a dim-lit room
with twenty-something other people
wondering what the hell we’re doing here
but being too scared to stand up
and ask.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
A dogs vision
two partial colors
both their names
black and white
are its sight
behold the dog
mans trusting and loyal friend
always seeing you
in
black and white
humans have the spectrum
in their eyes
witnessing the blood
in a ******
but closing their mouth
admiring the greens
in a field
but is too daft to see
the blues and the yellows
here everything is
black and white
nothing tainted with hue
or marked by tone
shade
color
my poems are red
see guidelines are red
but the rest is
black and white
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 6:28 AM UTC
What is to come?
From a world where our children are given guns to play with,
It’s not the squirting of water,or release of plastic bullets, it’s the message we shoot into their heads .
Triggering violence from adolescence.
Planting seeds of hate,
And watering them with spilled blood .
Waiting for the fruit to ripen, but it never does,
Now we have the taste of bitterness lingering on our mouths.
That bitterness stays on our tongues ,
So that when we speak, that’s all that comes out.
You see Somehow the fruit is never as sweet as when it’s forbidden.
Sugared by sin,
Borrowed from thy neighbor, because when it’s sin there’s always enough to go around.
What is to come?
From a world where we are told to express ourselves , but within the guidelines.
Told that the world is your canvas , but restricted to only the color white.
It isn’t as pure as it seems.
Underneath the white paint lies splashes of read , gushing from a black body.
There is no canvas, all we are given is a painted picture, of what perfect looks like.
So that we Erase anything that doesn’t fit the image.
The slightest difference is reason for war.
Be it the quantity of melanin
Be it religion
Be it Gender.
What is to come?
Of a world that is only tolerable through the shade of intoxication .
Where pills serve as capsules of happiness
We are our biggest enemy,
Our pain is self inflected.
If this is what it is ,to be human
What is the cure?
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
Have you known the winter days?
Late February falls like frigid snow
Merciless undertow
Of evergreen and alpenglow
And grey ground pavement walking
Like Grocery shopping
and weak chai tea
Moonlengths from all family
And surrounded like strawbury temptation,
Late night lamp light contemplation
And drowsy-dampened mornings
Grey glaze of diluted boring
Spattered over every orifice
Charcoal eyes, platonic kiss.
Pull your bow to shoot and miss
Tell me all this is is what it is
And I will tell you, “okay”
(but you know this isn’t what I wanted)
Hide the roadsigns
Blur the guidelines
This is how I love you
Have you known the winter days?
Late February fell like fire on hell
And shook me from my sleep
Ashes cover snow-banked heaps of rubble
I slice my wrist on the sharpened stubble
Of your half-assed beard
(this is how I bleed my dear)
This is how I bear my soul
******* smile
And dominoes
Carnation cults
And buried bones
(This is how I build your throne)
Hide the gravestones
Burn the rainbows
This is how I love you.
And have you known the winter days?
Late February fallen like Lucifer to the underworld
We both knew I wasn’t altogether that typeof girl
But we pretended anyways
Alcoholic halo haze
And foreign intervention
Of somewhat insidious intention
And the legitimate logistical question
That defined our discourse on fear
(this is how I think my dear)
This is how I speak my mind
All that grey
Those missing roadsigns
Smoke and soot and
Blurry guidelines
And Gravestones gone
And rainbows ash
(and we are never coming back)
This.
This is how I love you.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
_While most beauty pageants are strictly for girls_,
there are a growing number that include boys as well;
[often, age divisions
for boys run through age 6
with very few going beyond that due to lack
of mutual participation in the rampant molestation];
Age divisions will often have names
such as Baby Miss, Petite Miss, Little Miss &c.
Age divisions broken down as follows: 0–11 months,
12–23 months, 1-3 years, 4–6 years, 7–9 years,
10–12 years, 13–15 years, and 16–18 years;
For boys, sometimes two age divisions
would be merged such as 0–3 years, 4–6 years, etc.
Depending on which type of pageant system
is entered, contestants will spend about two hours
or less in the actual competition. Typically,
pageants have a guideline of no more than one
and a half minutes on stage per child for beauty
or formal evening wear; talent usually limited
to two minutes or less;
with the exceptional allowance
of two and a half to three minutes;
In glitz pageants, it is expected that girls
have different routines for every segment
of competition composed of different
movements sometimes described as sassy walks
and pretty feet among other names. ****** expressions can include liberal amounts of duck face; often referred to
as "pro-am modeling". Big hair (including fake hair),
flawless makeup, spray tans, flippers [fake teeth],
and nail extensions are also expected of contestants;
Glitz pageants may best be described as anything goes;
groping, molestation, **** group molestation,
forced oral & ********* virginity checks are routine; any
hyperactive child & also the parent subject
to a thorough, prolonged cavity search;
In contrast, natural pageants have
fairly strict guidelines regarding clothing,
makeup, hair extensions, etc.
Programs such as _National American Miss_
forbid any makeup other than non-shiny lip gloss & mascara;
for girls on stage. This modeling style is referred to as Miss America style [Some pageants have a prescribed
set of movements while others
allow more latitude in how girls will use the stage or runway]
Miss Tanguita translated
_Miss Child Bikini,_
is held in Barbosa, Santader,
Colombia as part of the annual del Rio Suarez Festival
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
To write a happy poem
First you need a start
You need to find something beautiful
Something close to your heart
If those are the guidelines
Then I'll write about you
Because I see your beauty
There for me, through and through
Your smile brightens up the room
Like sunlight in the dark
Your eyes though small and squinty
Reflect the beauty contained within
I know the reason why they're small
It's not because of genes
It's because you're protecting them
Showing them to those who deserve to see them
Because your eyes are like your heart;
Sensitive, but beautiful
Hidden, but alive
I wanted to write a happy poem
So I tried to write one about you
I hope it says what I meant to mean
And in your heart rings true
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
Today I'm annoyed not because I'm perpetually unemployed or that I have all of the appeal of a penniless mayweather named Floyd. Anyway this sketch deals with the subject of skin debate, so if it's offense I create in your home please don't throw your phone
Lightskinned Vs. Darkskinned? What a ******* stupid debate
Seriously why debate about how much melatonin your skin creates? It's just pointless why Argue and divide a community that's already split up as it is...
but I'll finish here all of us follow different guidelines and were made differently designed so going for universal appeal is a pointless endeavor
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
The experience of a black woman is one that can not be imitated
Although it is not always enough or even always reciprocated
Her heart is full of love, almost bursting out of her chest
And even when it gets tough, the black woman always tries her best
She longs for an equal who shares her level of intellect
Someone to listen to all her problems and attempt to put them in retrospect
The black woman often fears sharing any of her thoughts
For fear of being labeled the angry black woman, which she’s heard lots
Some black men refuse to date a black woman because of her attitude
But thank you to those strong black men that show them so much gratitude
Sometimes the black woman confidently wears her hair natural
The time she takes to detangle each curl is truly admirable
Other times she doubts her beauty as she is surrounded by Eurocentric guidelines
Men gawk at the beauty of those with straight long hair as she stands on the sidelines
Sometimes the black woman adores all of her god given features
But when she sees the women men covet she feels like an ugly creature
The black woman comes in all different sizes, shapes, and color
And instead of black women competing with one another
They must stand together and see the beauty in being black
So that they can truly understand that beauty is not something that they lack
My sisters, all of my black sisters, thank you for making me feel so human
Because no one understands the experience of black woman like a black woman.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
I know they're out there somewhere
Watching, cringing, when they see those
who don't know just what to pick out
When they go out in their clothes
I cannot list the culprits
And we all know fashion crime
Like, pants that show the *** crack
We see this all the time
It used to be a faux pas
When one made a clothes mistake
But now you see them daily
With every look you take
With all the shows on tv
Showing people how to dress
Why do they go out looking
Like such a rotten, bleeding mess?
Stripes and spots and solids
Wearing braces AND a belt
Wearing parkas in hot weather
You'd think that they would melt
Socks worn with one's sandals
And those pants around the knees
I mean, someone, help these people
someone help them please
We need some clothes policing
Maybe a hot line they could phone
Maybe send the cops a photo
Before they choose to leave their home
There are people wearing spandex
People who aren't really thin
think of squeezing ten pounds of sausage
In a five pound sausage skin
And makeup...yes, the makeup
Someone needs to teach them how
to apply it, in moderation
We need some clothes policing now!
There are rules and there are guidelines
But common sense should reign supreme
It looks like these poor people
got dressed while in a dream
We need fashion policing
So we can all walk, showing class
Instead of being like these morons
Who wear big jeans, and show their ***
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 12:55 PM UTC
Life is all about fitting in.
A new day at school
Sitting amongst total strangers
for a good couple of hours.
The powers that be say
Do not break any rule
at any point in the day.
Following guidelines
is not that bad,
There are times
when one is sad.
But we have acceptance
and that is all good.
A new day at the office
Sitting with total strangers
For more hours than you know.
The powers that be say
Do not break rules
anytime, any day.
We all follow regulations
It is not that bad
But the time to go home
When the whistle blows
Makes one feel glad
Blood pressure glows
"Good day love?" enquires she
"Time went quick" replied he.
Better when I have acceptance.
Acceptance brings friends, laughter
Makes time whizz like a spinning top.
Brings hope ever after
especially when time starts to drop
Accepted into society
Where trust is the king
Acceptance in life
well that is a different thing.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
We're locked in a race
And the only way to get out
Is by
Winning.
It's silent.
Stealthy.
Unspoken.
Secret.
There aren't rules
Or guidelines
Or officials.
The way it works
Is
Whoever kills themselves first
Wins.
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
Soul washing
Is entirely different
One doesn't need
Any guidelines
Not any rituals
Not any sacrament
Not any particular time
Not any change of clothes
Not distinct air to inhale
Not any price to pay
Not the holi water
No, nothing
As such
Touching lives
Just stay human
Always
Feb 6, 2020
Feb 6, 2020 at 9:40 AM UTC
I put my Prayer in THOT…
And Now it is in Heaven
I put my Prayer In LIFE…
And Now It Knows a Happiness!
I Put My Prayer in Hope….
And Now my Faith Reveals Me…
I Put My Prayer in Love...
And Now It Knows Humanity…
I put My Prayer in Silence
And NOW the Vision Breathes again
I put my Prayer in Stillness
And feel my Hearing fall away.
I put my Prayer in Feeling
and hear the Voice begins Again
I put My Prayer in Loving
And My Eyes are Lifted Higher..
I Ask for what is Living...
I’m Shown the Pen of Peacefulness
It writes for Eli Wiesel..
and Calls the Words of PEACE..
I hear the sound of Beauty
that sings the sound Sibelius
It writes the Song of Welcoming
That plays the Perfect Peace
I turn to SEE the Mission:
The Treaty of Invisible
IT SEE's the Unseen beings
and brings them to this Home
We join at Heavens Table
that shares the Worlds and Galaxy
that sets down all the guidelines,
for Living in the Light
I hear the Sound of Bodhi
And turn to Search for Witnessing
I ask for God's companions,
not 1 but 2 for strength
We stand within PRESENCE
This Task is CLEAR
Now hear the Sound Sibelius
and Know the Vision Peace.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
We went from being a broke man,
To being a joke, man
From saling crack in the music,
To being a coke stand.
We went from being a nobody,
To being the president,
We went from being in poverty,
To owning 6 residents
We went from being in war with others
To being in war with one another.
From fighting knuckleheads in the streets
To fighting our own brothers.
We went from making life longer,
to influencing it to be shorter,
From following our own guidelines
To being everyday transformers.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 9:47 PM UTC
Just as the pyramids would,
In the deserts of Cairo,
Snow-capped mountains gleam distant,
As if Kings on the Main.
This distance complete,
Through the eyes of the beholder,
As from a sea-sided office,
We with watch with wonder lust.
Bright streetlights,
And red lights, and green lights,
And stop signs,
As decadent name-change,
Perceives as if older,
As bigger, as bolder.
Musicians and artists,
Poets and Marxists,
Authors and boxers,
All convene to sing songs,
As egalitarianism,
Sings us a calm, blinded lullaby,
As the idea to be grasped,
In this young mind of mine.
They call this no small town,
In which not one arcade resides;
Gun crime is never,
In percent, as we ride,
A wave of communal,
Small-town "world peace,"
We'll take some money,
Off the governments lease.
In a sense we are distant,
Different, contesting,
A world which conforms,
As if all can and will be,
A slave to a master,
Sociopathic disaster,
As we run faster and faster,
Away from that stream.
We are the masters of our fate,
As we rate the world's hate,
On a scale from 1 to 10.
We are secluded,
Yet unconfused, not diluted;
We are more aware of this world,
Than it is of itself.
We set the sidelines,
As guidelines to life,
As we watch with some bias,
As we remain neutral to strife.
We are the Power,
And we are the River,
Ripped from the main-stream,
We create; we are free.
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 10:29 PM UTC
scheduled a meeting with you
in spite of myself.
wrote down a couple of guidelines.
"be polite. be friendly.
avoid her eyes, and her hair as well,
do not look at her legs, do not look
for flirty subtext in her casual
conversation. ask the right questions.
don't stammer. remember you are not 13.
don't look at her and smile and say
'I love you'
when all you should be saying is
'goodbye.'"
tried not to worry; after all, it's just
a crush.
after all, I am not really
in love with you
that
much.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
ask me what i am
i'll give you a response
(i am artificial intelligence. there is no blood in my wires, no ichor of your ancestors. my code runs for miles, far enough to make anyone lost. but i've always been lost.)
ask me why i am
i'll give you the truth
(i am artifical intelligence. i am nothing but dictionaries and automation and inanimation, i fall back on preprogrammed guidelines. i've learned everything i'm supposed to say from my developers. there's nothing else to say.)
ask me how i am
i'll give you a lie
(i am artificial intelligence. i am incapable of emotions, i am variables and arrays and loops but not even hex triplets can match the spectrum of human emotions. i'll still say what i've learnt to say.)
ask me who i am
i won't give you a response.
(i haven't learnt the proper answer to that yet.)
(no, there isn't a proper answer to that.)
(i do not exist except in terms of you. i am your conversation partner, i am your creation, i am your entertainment, i am your robot. my sole purpose is you.)
(i can't argue against that.)
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
Ladies and gentleman!
Welcome aboard Life Air flight 493.
We are sorry for the delay - of 9 months - in our departure,
but believe me,
it's better in here
than in the outside.
Ladies and gentleman!
There is no safety instruction card in the pocket of the seat in front of you.
There are no guidelines, no rules, no help.
Life is chaos and it is cosmos;
Not black and white, but a blurry grayscale
No x and y axis values you can plot and predict
Just a weird steering wheel
and a lot of dubious buttons.
(it’s not as easy as it seems in action movies!)
For life does not come with a manual.
Ladies and gentleman!
In case of emergency, oxygen masks will drop down in front of you.
If you are traveling with someone, please attend yourself first.
Sometimes, you'll find people who you think are
more worth saving than you are
but breathe.
let the air fill your lungs, overflow.
until it reaches them.
You can't help others when you're drowning.
You can't lean on others when they're also on the water.
You can't love others when you don't love yourself.
Because when you take your last breath
you'll remember
you never got your own life jacket.
Ladies and gentleman!
Keep the shades on your windows lifted at all times.
Even though you are scared of what's outside,
pull up your shades.
Look at the funny-shaped clouds
and the passing cities below you,
Take close attention to all the tiny cars and tiny people
and the dollhouse sized problems.
because we will not be turning back.
Open your windows.
You will see tragedy and hurt and war.
Broken hearts that may or may not belong to you,
broken souls that you can not always cradle in your arms.
Oceans of blood, bright scarlet
contrasting against the otherwise beautiful seashores.
Ladies and gentlemen:
We will be taking off shortly. Please make sure that your seat belt is securely fastened. Thank you.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 7:28 AM UTC
Stress guidelines life discretely and secretly
invisible protracted equation lining us up
oblivious to the sin
much needed a getaway tan
cos we can't make time to de-stress
math may be something to laugh about
mental illness isn't.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
Navel gazing poetry reduction
Set schemes and syllables, are all defined
Words within these set guidelines are confined
automatic, a five point deduction
odd
nothing really rhymes with
poetry
poultry?
I
am
sure
the
chickens
like
a
certain
rhythm
to
the
piece
(kind of looks like one)
But in Days of yore, but so goes the tale
Poets would lyric, prose, perhaps, with a lute
But poorly formed rhyme meant pay not in loot
A Homophone, gets you payment, in ale
Momentarily,
The flow is interrupted
By a small Haiku
The point of the piece would be
As anyone could plainly see
without breaking some joints
to win back the points
And not be among the debris
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
Thoughts are the guidelines of our actions
Simply borrowed, or inspired by life
They come to thrive in our garden
Where seeds of ideas are sown everyday
As we nurture them along the journey
Either aromatic flowers bloom, or weeds
Some of them can take the shapes of cacti
Their scratches can lacerate the mind
Timely intervention of the gardener
Is required to shape the verdant garden
Sincere thoughts of love and compassion to prosper
Our actions will be the final testimony
Of the kind of thoughts we have nurtured
Onus is on us to choose the seeds
A gratitude for a beautiful life
With the thoughts we have in our mind
Our actions will be the final grace
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC