"humanly" poems
left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time
called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up
he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office
and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,
we met on the street,
he rolled down the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone
I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:
*"No sir, no no, not necessary!
Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"*
to which I replied,
*"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"*
and with an equally, beaming smile I continued,
*"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was*
Inshallah!" ^
something he could not dispute...
or my knowledge thereof and it’s
proper pronouncement,
nor
his amazement,
to disguise!
we parted ways
each believing,
each receiving,
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form . Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet . As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form . The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction . The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.
As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born. Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .
The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved . Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .
Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility . Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .
Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation. Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.
In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
Making love isn't just about having ***
Its also nice to see how it effects (the relationship)
Its connecting two peoples souls, through the depeest of touch
When there's no stronger way to express your love with ****** intimacy and such
Sharing everything without a speck of bother
Making each other happy and pleasing each other
It can be nice and slow, tender, romantic and surely sweet
To be as close as humanly possible is such a nice treat
When lust burns to love which deepens through this
The soul does experience undescribable bliss
Please do love me until the night is over, come here, give me a kiss
Lets make love my dear,
On this first day of the year
I love you
~ Umi
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 7:58 AM UTC
today i achieved the farthest state from meditation
humanly possible
i slammed down the horn when the
wrinkled egg tried to place her stick in front of her.
my cat's hunger is only met by my
own intestinal growls,
and it's my anniversary.
i belong in a tribe of chimpanzees.
i'm too lazy to shower,
too angsty to sit still,
too apathetic to lift even one limb from that
sweet honey mud that clings to me,
that bubble of no-space, and
i have so many ideas.
i want to do everything.
but the pebbles turn to dark walls when
they should be cobblestone,
everyone cares and is trying to help me
i'm alone, alone, alone.
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form . Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet . As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form . The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction . The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience .
As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born. Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .
The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved . Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .
Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility . Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .
Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation . Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor .
In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
Under the tree of the university
A shadow was gruesomely cast.
The branches made too much shade
And there grew no grass.
No one would lie under its wood
Down beside its trunk;
It wasn't essential, there was no potential,
Claimed the revered monk
But late at night you'll find him lying in the dirt
Wearing a Paisley Poplin Shirt
The click of the gears define his years,
A cycle on a chain
A cloud of sand thrown by his own hand
Hones forth his pain
He blows seeds of dandelion weeds
****** a ****** field
And he pretends that he intends
To reap this horrible yield
Because unintentionally he subconsciously convert
To one who wears a Paisley Poplin Shirt
Covered in rust, a blade he adjusts,
His mind remains unwrung
The words to speak were too **** bleak
So he cuts off his tongue
He'll be finished when he's diminished
These humanly sights
If there's no vision at the end of his mission
He'll gouge out his eyes
And Helen Keller takes one of her old ragged skirts
And fashions him a Paisley Poplin Shirt
Why must we be obsessed
With the unseen
When we know we cannot
Make something out of nothing
And to those of you who think that you cannot be hurt
Stones go thru a Paisley Poplin Shirt
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
.
**•••• ••••••••• ••••
•our wrin- kled hides only co- nceal the
anguish•that resonates with conviction amongst
my herd•this humanly greed that might cause us
to perish•what's valuable to you, we find incredu-
lously absurd•embedded in our trunks lay mill-
enias of lineage... • hidden in our eyes bec-
koned the change in history •in our
•• beating hearts is ••
the longing to
turn the im-
possible
page•of
hapless
chapt-
ers w-
rit-ten
with the
points**
of
bloodstained
ivory•
.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
Time is all that sets us free
To all the wonders, that can be humanly perceived
Time is all that binds us
To mundane, almost emotionless routines we have conceived.
Time is the ticking of the clock
That gnaws at us; leaving no immediate mark
Time is the face that has come to mock
It creeps on regardless; you notice it turn light to dark.
Time is the invisible candle that everyone innately holds
It gets lit from the moment we open our eyes
Time is not the wick that gives berth to flame
Rather it is the waxes that burn and then vaporise.
Time can and will never stop
Moments go by with the blink of the eyes
Time..., it does not favour
It isn't biased, it doesn't get swayed by truths or lies.
Time is the entity that governs almost all
It will tell when it deems it's right
From seedling to tree, hatchling to flight
A weakness to strength, the frail to might.
Time is the quest
That we have strived to conquer
Time is all of us
We have secretly craved for life much longer.
Time would only permit
All that I could pen in time
Time will always suggest to omit
So I could capture it all in rhyme.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
My Best Friend
It's cliche to say I'm in love with my best friend,
Or to say that she's my soul mate.
But those are the only words humanly possible to describe it.
I can tell her anything
Everything
Whenever
Whatever.
If I have a random thought at two in the morning
And I wake her up,
She won't be mad.
She's half awake but she listens. She'll tell me it's okay
Hold me until I fall asleep,
Wait until she hears my steady breaths
Wait until I stop shifting.
It's so intimate in those moments.
When there's nothing around us but the soft whir of the A/C and the warmth of her love.
Or when she's crying in her room and the only words she can muster are apologies for things she didn't do and can't control.
And I sit,
Soothing
Repeating
Whispering
The only words that calm her down.
She knows them well.
I sit with her,
Sometimes unsure of what to do,
Doing the only thing I know.
And wait.
Calmly,
Patiently,
Understandingly.
I wait until it subsides.
And I wipe the tears gently from her eyes.
Push her hair out of her face,
Kiss her sweaty forehead,
And whisper lightly in her ear
Everything is alright.
Letting her know
I love her,
And I will always be here for her.
For she is my best friend
And my soulmate.
-1:30 a.m. K.E.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 1:34 AM UTC
I breathe in until I feel like my lungs might explode. I tighten my neck muscels and before I can think - My entire body is tense.
I'm trying to supress it. It has ruined so much but I will not let it ruin another moment...
I grind my teeth trying to supress it further, not realizing that grinding my teeth ... was a tic too.
Letting my mind slip for a second; I come to find that I have failed - once again
I flick my head, blink my eyes violently - turning the day into a stop motion movie - Once again I already know the plot.
Everything is moving in slowmotion around me - my body moving too fast to hold it in I fail - once again my body is dancing to a beat that is not mine.
I feel the pain in my neck. It is sore from giving into the neverending urge - once again it is strained from constant twitching and has been for god knows how long.
I try to ignore the pain and focus on supressing what's coming next, but being distracted by the pain I fail - once again I flick my head and exhale as fast as humanly possible. The exhale doesn't come alone - it never does. A pallette of sounds escape my mouth.
It was not me making those sounds, but the lungs affected by the pain are mine.
I feel the cycle starting over - once again.
It goes through me like a wave of energy.
I have been robbed of the control over my own body - once again.
The power to fight back has ... vanished.
I go to bed early but sleep late; battling this force with every shard of energy I could possibly have left - Once again leaving me exhausted enough to finally sleep, despite the constant twitching.
They say it's a chemical imbalance in my brain.
Too much dopamine is released.
As far as I'm concerned dopamine is a "Feel good hormone", so why does it make me so miserable?
I lay here thinking about when this cycle will end?
And when it finally does end, when will it restart? - Once again...
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 7:28 PM UTC
Nothing is found, except it is hidden,
Nothing is hidden, except it is a secret;
Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure.
Beloved,
you are a secret treasure hidden to be found.
Indeed,
you are a goddess of beauty.
When l behold your eyes l see love,
l see us in you.
When l weighed your mind, l found courage,
when you smile my heart smiles.
When you speak the burdens of my heart are lifted up.
In my dreams is you that l see,
ln my visions is you that l picture,
ls you that l capture.
When l first saw you,
l met a stranger.
As l talked with you,
l discovered a divine embodiment with character and charisma.
As l thought of you,
l discovered my friend.
As l came closer,
l discovered my missing rib.
As l walked with you,
l found my wife.
When l gazed at your beauty,
a spell of love gripped me.
I felt a sigh of relief in my heart.
You have l loved and you will l love.
Loving you means so much to me,
beholding your immaculate beauty beautifies the glory of our future.
My tears and fear is to lose you.
I am perfected in your love,
you are the tender spirit of my heart,
the one that softens my heart;
your love has stolen my heart away.
I've never been so much in love,
not until l met you.
Losing you means loss of countless memories to me,
ln loving you have l understood the worth of true and genuine love.
My soul bleeds for the moment of our union as one.
I long for the moment when we shall cleave together as birds in the sky,
singing the songs of love together as one,
sharing in an everlasting happiness.
Then shall l tell you how much you mean to me,
how effective your spell of love have gripped me.
We're not only humanly designed for each other,
we're divinely designed from each other.
My love for you is forever
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
"It is really beautiful up here" she whispered.
Her skin brightened in the glow of the fading masterpiece of crimsons, yellows, and golds the sun had brushed across the turquoise sky "This is it, this is what heaven is like."
I couldn't hear her, but I could read her soft spoken lips and study her face—which I always imagined as less of the cover to a book and more every word inside. There was not a greatness or a sadness that ceased to mask her portrait. She was all heart and soul, every bit of her.
I watched as her bright eyes changed to become more glass than eyes. As if, for the first time, she was seeing life, love, and something more. Something so deep and beautiful that not even Hemmingway or Fitzgerald could even begin to put the prefix of it into thought.
Among the dusting of the clouds and transparent sunset, I felt her heartbeat could silence and the lungs of which gave her the life I so cherished could empty turning her flesh a pale blue—and she would fade peacefully into the scene before me.
This very thought frightened me. Too soon would her feet touch the ground—and nothing I was humanly capable of, or possibly godly capable of, would ever captivate and hold her so perfectly or turn her eyes as vivid—and there was nothing more I wanted.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
I am ashamed that I am Spanish because of Franco
I am ashamed that I am French because of Algeria
I am ashamed that I am Algerian because of France
I am ashamed that I am American because of Bush, Iraq
and the bloodshed once among brothers
I am ashamed that I am Russian because of Stalin, Gulag
and recently of this and that
I am ashamed that I am German because of ****** clearly
(Pol *** appears more and more seldom in the lists, but one is horrified, humanly ashamed, remembering)
I am ashamed that I am English because of football etc
I am ashamed that I am Polish — only when I am not proud
I am ashamed that I am Turkish, but then there are Kurds...
I am ashamed that I am Czech and allowed myself to be stifled
(I am just as ashamed myself — some say, who feel
shame in its extremity and hide weapons in pantries, waiting for that moment
in which they wash away their shame with the blood of traditional enemies)
I am ashamed that I am Orthodox or Catholic and I wedge and split
the mountain on which Jesus bled — before others made even smaller
pieces out of his Golgotha below
I am ashamed that I am Indian because... well, it’s no matter
I am ashamed that being Macedonian I let the Greeks be even more
I am ashamed that I am Korean and one of Kim Ir Sen’s
I am ashamed that I am Korean no matter where, as long as
Kim Ir Sen’s Koreans remain
I am ashamed that I am Serbian, but... let me think
I am ashamed that I am Chinese because: ‘You’re Chinese?’
I am ashamed that I am Romanian because of Ceausescu, Dracula of course
and now, God, all these Romanians all over the world...
I am ashamed of my nation even when I am not ashamed
— but each of us seeks to forget something
I am ashamed because .......... [Everyone: fill in the blanks, write yours here!]
but you, but you — you, only you
you, whose nation filled the desolate earth with life and kindness
you are the man who begins the new day
today
with your first step
Ioana Ieronim
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
Nobility divine fills gaps of transcendence,
Soars to and from the throne heavenly,
Exalts morals near the king of ascendance,
Patrolling the good, and sons of the seventy.
A duty forgotten, replaced with dependence,
On prayers rarely heard, and logic of a herd -
Divinity is far in absence; man in attendance,
The book is a third, and teachings are blurred.
Andeliviuan corruption supposedly erased:
The creation rotten of Sariel, wanders gaily.
The holy and fallen angel’s doing embraced,
By the clay beings caressing evil like a frailly.
By God not, who from heaven him displaced.
Yet, the legacy of the wrong stands humanly,
In Thailand, America, Palestine, and all graced -
A grace of sinfulness celestial and worldly.
Religion is the poor’s only ultimate truth,
the rich’s side hustle, and the rulers’ tool;
It is the loss of power that defiles the sooth,
The one the poor has not, but does the fool.
Robbers’ servants, bread crumbs consumers,
Toothless **** dogs, emaciated lost tramps,
Little blind pawns, vultures’ puppets, tumours,
And wrenches they are, the upper hand’s lambs.
If only Raguel’s judgements fall upon man,
Raphael’s punishment beautifies this existence,
Gabriel’s wrath makes not all humans ane,
And Michael saves us, the Sarahs, in assistance.
In the heart deepened with old repression,
That mounts with plenitude of filtered feels,
Resides a universe yearning for expression,
In a meat clay who feeds on calories of meals.
Man, in the genesis, in the light, in the dark,
In prosperity, in turmoil, triumphed with vices;
vileness, abuse, wreckage is our sole mark,
On this planet whose population is in slices.
Oct 21, 2022
Oct 21, 2022 at 5:18 AM UTC
When the normal is expected and consumed with boredom,
and the highs pass along unnoticed because they are so humanly desired,
and the lows are too painful to survive through, let alone move on from,
who has the right to ask me to continue trying to live?
Who on this Earth possesses any righteous ability
to command me to survive?
No one.
And yet, I am powerless to stop them.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
I feel like the faded part of love;
it feels like the end even before it had a chance to begin.
I feel like the faded part of love;
An invisible longing from a lover,
unsettling and echoing in the dark.
A conastantaneous pain that slowly crawls into my body and engulfs the soul that seeks freedom from all the humanly attachments.
I feel like the faded part of love!
I feel like the faded part of love!
Aug 29, 2022
Aug 29, 2022 at 1:21 PM UTC
If I wrote you a love poem
would you clam up in choking modesty,
embarrassed by the still raw love that's been cooking but is yet to be served.
If I wrote you a poem of friendship,
would you retreat back into solidarity,
annoyed at the bluntness of my open soul.
If I wrote you a poem of mourning,
would you fill with resentment
at my supposed plea for pity
If I wrote you a poem of joy
would you counteract the skip in my step with a lag in yours
because enthusiasm is corny in large amounts
And if I wrote you a poem of desire
Would you avert all eyes back to the screen
because Romeo and Juliet is a bit outdated
and imagination has fled from the heart and away from its sensory outlets
Or…
If I wrote you a love poem
Would you beam with a smile that radiates from your eyes and cheeks and shoulders and knees
Because you need all the passerby to know of our love, wordlessly..shamelessly..
If I wrote you a poem of friendship
would you deliver me my favorite coffee,
pick me up to go on a road trip to anywhere
If I wrote you a poem of mourning,
would you hold me and give me the smiles and hugs
that I am temporarily and humanly void of..
If I wrote you a poem of joy,
Would you let my spirit set fire to yours
So we can dance around like idiots aimlessly
And if I wrote you a poem of desire,
would your body tingle and feel like its never felt before,
unsatisfied until our legs and tongues and hearts are entwined
Or am I too Disney?
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
by
rgpage
you live in a world which you don’t know
sheltered by your host’s resolve,
to keep a place of love’s warm glow
where all ‘round you revolves.
like a pedestal queen you’re held on high
in a world all of my own.
a world of warmth for you and i
and love you have never known.
this is the way this world must be,
a world of love’s perfect touch;
for reality holds another for me
whom i love and care for as much.
a woman who gave of her body and soul
and youth in good times and sad.
the one that i love yet cannot protect
when human frailties turn bad.
(yes) safe in this place of soft flowing grace
from realities out stretched hands,
never to want from life’s hectic pace
nor cry from hope’s ill-fated plans.
to my wife i give of my life
all that i humanly can.
now age and life’s strain have claimed their
fare share, leaving little with which to plan.
yet returning to you in most private of time
free from life’s flesh grinding grip.
naked and young we caress and arouse
and share in young love’s perfect trip.
my hope is you’ll read this humblest of script
for there is no more i can do;
to tell you aloud would dash our whole world
and more over mean losing you.
Dec 4, 2011
Dec 4, 2011 at 9:07 AM UTC
I can almost taste the anguish pushing through the blood in my veins as I recall these fleeting memories. I can almost feel the lighting from the sky run into the nerves of my hand. I'm imagining this kiss because everything is so surreal. Everything around me is flourishing in my body. I can taste much more than just the sweet pull of his lips. I can see into his emotions, playing behind his eyelids. I can feel the temptation that lay there. Each move he makes reverberates throughout my body and I sense a fire reaching from each strand of hair on my body to each blood cell inside my body. I do not want this to stop. I can’t let him stop. We’re as close as we can humanly get but it’s still short of what I want, what we want. I can sense it in his rapid breathing, he doesn’t want to stop either. He’s clawing his way into me with his kneading hands. He’s striving to loosen the very strings of my mind.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
I used to live alone before I knew you
so
of the mundane tragedies endlessly writ
repeat rinse repeat
repeat
how awfully awful
is the complaining without cessation
of busted everything;
recall the the doctor’s office sign
"no cure for the broken heart here"
so when I hear a Buckley sing
the words of the Cohen, High Priest of Songs,
I, a broken hallelujah,
smile with recognition
though the true cure is
yet still forever being researched
patience is a patient within me,
for my muses and their endless,
poking aching whispers of write, write, write, right,
they are the company I keep,
they are the company that sweeps me up
I, a broken hallelujah
they are not the desired flesh, true,
that affirms confirms and denies me
denying my needy frailties
but for now,
mine company to keep,
so when we do meet and
you greet me with a
tell me about your previous lovers
as you humanly must
will recite my poems from
from before I knew you
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
Please,
leave me be
I will plead
guilty
to experiencing
feelings
and expressing them
so humanly
I can not
perceive
the vanity
in assimilation
with apathy
Growing elderly
So **** Pleas. .
and asking please
to secede
from an already
established
worldly apartheid
to everyone
and everything
Who participates in
empathy for nothing
but to breathe,
Eat
****
****
and Sleep
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
I dipped my extraordinary toe into the cool waters.
It was colder than I had expected it to be.
And as I glowered at myself
in a mirror of sorts,
I discovered I wasn’t alone.
Deceptively perfect
and perfectly sculpted.
A body of total glory.
A glistening aura,
with freshly chopped wave.
A glistening fauna,
amongst all the flora.
Irreverently so,
she fit no humanly mold.
A creature to truly behold.
I behold the true embodiment
of the truth and the good.
And I certainly remember
the tales of the crude.
*Tatter becomingly of thy soul.
Please don’t develop an interlude.
Ive been laying while dying
underneath old coal.
Please woman.
Call my name.*
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
I could never love myself through the male gaze,
every part of me dissected into something that is nothing
objectified and dismembered into significantly insignificant categories
criticized, and ostracized from humanly functions
only to be put on display
as a mannequin.
Jul 9, 2022
Jul 9, 2022 at 2:21 AM UTC