"humanoid" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Everything with us seems perfectly entwined,
Like Lego locking together,
It just fits like we should know but don't,
Is this another life lesson I wonder,
You are actually perfection on a plate,
All my wishes confirmed for my eye's to feast,
You listen, converse, laugh, speak sense,
Your like my concious more innocent,
When alone in my thoughts I know,
I fell in love along the way,
I'm evaporated by your honesty,
Our souls melt into the Ether,
Alien yet familiar fears dwell,
A fool for love and lust,
Heart brashly on sleeve,
Afraid I'll chemically combust,
I cant see your thoughts either,
Are you just honeymooning this new behaviour,
Don't misread that I'm wanting it fast,
My heart prays to God It will last,
All I need is something more concrete,
I cant sweep this away just for encase,
Every waking moment I long to embrace,
In you my love knew we would meet,
But for now we go with the flow,
Fear you will bin me for another,
All helplessly in love and lost,
I'm almost certain my heart'll pay the cost,
We lock just like Lego blessed from above,
Humanoid Lego a gift of true love.
© Susan Michelle Baker
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
~for Maya, the Persian Canadian farmer in the dell~
your poetic riddling questions without hesitation re
my claim conceptual
refuting with factoids actuarial experiential derived,
that cows need milkshake making daily by sunrise
nonsense
so you wake me up groggy on a Miami Saturday 6:00am
with a reciprocal poetic to a dashed off to contra my
code of conduct poem-mine;
and all that stumbles through my almost reset rested,
main stem cortex is an a ancient hebrew homily:
on Sabbath Saturday, even the cows sleep late
ok;
just tween us rare passes the day that a glancing phrase doesn’t register a stabbing whine “of me, of mine do sing” and your point counterpoint incision demands inspiration instant re-mission
around 10am when the amiable barn aminals sipping cuppa #3,
and the chicken children want a weekend brunch xtra feeding
are done, in the yard, put out to
pack n' peck n’ play
so that’s an intro to this work
that jumps the line of a
hundreds of other’s poems promised and overdue:
insight inside your crafted wake up slam slap was
pretty **** near the makers mark bourbon of this distillers
bourbon barrels bulbous poem’s bibliothèque that
has an impatient waiting list
of poems waiting anointing
each a personage~poem of that day it was birthed inscribed
this particular one for you,
~
my complexity non-Napoleonic
just humanoid each, here are my leaders from and
into a veining so lovely colored
each poem a waving wheat stalk
before these old tired eyes close to closing hear once more
“of me, of mine do sing”
so I follow all of you by dimming yellow light,
for this is the soil of nutriment rich from where my
words grow taller and the yellow infusion feeds my wheats,
the amber, the red hard and soft, the whites, the durums,
and mon préféré, prairie spring white,
which is my secret nickname for a duality woman,
poet and farmer,
posing riddles
that deserve answers*
maybe
—-
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2503650/little-ole-me-a-riddle-of-sorts/
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
the bottle's like a violin,
screaming demons in my stomach,
a cyborg forging information as lunch,
purging an urge for self-destruction,
my outer shell's cold but the circuits a storm,
of electrical database lifespan into megabytes of ****
see death is a story,
and my analogies are allegories,
mourning after the goriest morning is NOT worth storing,
blank pages turn into mythical dissipation,
and with that loud speaker you'd think he could pen down imagination,
a midnight gig playing with cosmic instrumentation,
for the humanoid race place your conscious on your invitation,
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Back in my village, in the middle of a pine forest, I walk for hours radiating yellow and green until the earth swallows me and spits me out as a mystical bird-like being.
Like a peacock, I spread my shimmering, resonating feathers and bow to the giant raptor in the sky.
I can only be obedient to his emanations.
I fly back to my children, to my nest on a magnificent cedar tree. We entangle our necks and feathers in rapture knowing that soon, the earth shall reclaim my original nature.
By the sea I sit and patiently wait to remember why I chose to forget.
The wind moves the waters, and the waves cast the sunlight onto my forehead. I feel the heat increasing as my structure dissolves. I gain back consciousness in an aquatic atmosphere taking a turtle-like form with a shell and humanoid hands. I swim down following a series of glares and vibrations until I reach what is seemingly an immense turtle temple. I feel a sudden danger and crawl back into shell. I open up my eyes and find myself sitting by the sea again.
Life is a journey of appreciation.
I can only surrender and be grateful.
Words Of Harfouchism
Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 5:14 AM UTC
Opportunity or opposing unity to unify and untie
Leper's lesion sipping each seasonal reason for loving your flowing hair and knowing care
Strike the stench and light the match and throw open the hatch jump inside along with furry-toad-love
*** and lust and the vex of the ****** of what is on the television gone up and through and something grew inside my skull where IT is thus, null
And I speak of course off course because of this coarse curse of your love
Flinching finch-pinch-tense, since she's, hence, a personal goddess
I'm a man of fetus-like love of birth and woman-girth
I like my girls to be bigger
Though perhaps for a less redeemable reason
I am the humanoid-elemental-embodiment of low self-confidence
And most are out of my "league" (at least physically and aesthetically)
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Poor Putin is a dangerous psychopath
No one likes to mention that one fact
He is more like an ape than a human
Sick little poor wasted Humanoid Vlad
The Pope must be an openly psychopath
Just the way he dress himself so foolish up
Wonder if he is just enormously beautiful
Naked with deadly eyes like Humanoid Vlad.
****** was a sick nasty **** psychopath
A whole nation following his death path
Now there is a ******* evil ****** Caliphate
Nothing to compare with Humanoid Vlad.
I guess we all could be like psychopaths
Take one deep look into our monstrous souls
It contains mostly of neurons and pure fat
We got no free will just like Humanoid Vlad.
*Humanoid Vlad
In ice cold motion
Humanoid Vlad
No love and no notion
Humanoid Vlad
Done it all calculated
Humanoid Vlad
His time hopefully faded*
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Her eyes, your solemn witness
are so unlike mine
I am untamed!
a loose humanoid chained
in gold
always spinning
under high beams
like it's no big deal
(while you reside
in your mind)
but why
can't I dream too?
I wanted you
to stay
you energized me
(every contact
left me broken yet intact)
Hallelujah!
You're outside!
Traced your face
in refracted light
Stand-still silhouette
Crop her
out
Fill the void
with blackened foil
while she makes nasty
public announcements
(and loves the attention
creating irrelevant banquets
and barbecues)
This was never my war
so hold fast to us
or crawl or
meet me at the door--
Wherever the blame feels
a little less
and confess
I was the one
you were looking for
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Life: A Carnival
In so many ways
we are a human freak show,
just a breathing carnival attraction.
So get the **** off your high horse,
look around
be mesmerized,
hypnotized
and wonderized by a world of awe.
Let’s get real,
move a few strands of DNA
from here to there,
drop some chromosomes at the deli
to re-arrange their eating patterns
and we would see that
those mindless amoebas down the street
is talking our language.
Of all the billions of species
populating this planet,
we humans are the most
ignorant, opinionated,
**** for brains fools.
We puff out our stupidity
on a regular basis,
books, movies, music,
TV and social media
24/7/365
there is no end to the
racist, slime eating,
motherfukers
brought out in grand displays
as “experts”
in a single hour
of opinion disguised as “news”
on Fox, or CNN,
NBC, ABC or CBS
a menagerie of fools.
The world is a marvelous place,
alive with diversity,
which we should embrace.
All of us, humans wide,
emerged from Africa,
humanities origins
10's of thousands of years ago.
We humans are a carnival,
a side tent freak show,
all diverse and magnificent.
And to all those idiot
religious fanatics,
USA, USA ignoramuses,
de-evolve your brains,
slither back under your rock,
go back to your ancient,
long gone
humanoid origins,
become like you are,
extinct.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16
Note: yes it’s a rant after watching an hour of Fox
CNN and MSNBC news... I must go throw up now.
Apologies to Natalie Merchant whose song “Carnival”
is embedded below, her song is a much more kinder
celebration of our diversity.. I on the other hand
cannot stay calm in the face of fascist fanatics
pretending to speak for human beings.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
Oh the devil hath found
Interpreting perverse anomalies
Oh the devil hath found
May you sphacelate you worthless antiquity
Oh the devil hath found
You reek of cigarettes and unfrequented deliriums
Oh the devil hath found
What pandemonium!
Oh the devil hath found
An oasis in a wasteland
Oh the devil hath found
A humanoid dichotomy
Oh the devil hath found
A sought after moral wreck
Oh the devil hath found
Love.
.................................................................................
....Que le diable et son amant se chargent........
.................................................................................
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 2:55 AM UTC
I'm employed
But not enjoyed
They're annoyed
Until I'm destroyed
Then they fill that void
With another humanoid
I'm a hollow coil
From lots of toil
Like hot oil
I'm not royal
I just boil
Underneath the soil
I say howdy
Loudly
To the rowdy
That doubt me
And out me
As mouthy
This mistake
Fish tank
I drank
Stank
So rank
My mind went blank
I cannot fight it
My mind on autopilot
The roof I tile it
To style it
Violet
While lit
I am a changeling
That is aging
From waging
A war raging
Against those caging
The rat who's racing
The pain is inner
As a fidget spinner
A ****** sinner
Ate for dinner
For he's the winner
Of the money printer
And my mind of cinder
They broke me
No joking
Just poking
The nope king
While hoping
Society starts sloping
Towards communal coping
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 2:34 AM UTC
I am being Followed
I swear
by those creatures
in the corner of your eye
I am being Followed
I know
by little monsters
and larger beasts
humanoid things
and many legged creatures
disappearing
when looked at directly
I am being stalked
of course
by my overactive imagination
and shadows
at least I hope so.
Mar 20, 2010
Mar 20, 2010 at 8:18 AM UTC
She was
fascinated by the way the beard floated across his face and disappeared without a trace into his ears and thought it was a camera trick.
The camera doesn't lie is a lie, though we still believe what we can see,no longer polaroid the humanoid is now devoid of all reality,
the photoshopper shops and crops,lops the tops and bottoms of his pics,sticks in bits that don't belong,digitised, giving verbal to the lies in view and finding few who disagree with the elements,reformed and shaped, the new caped crusader,tints,tone raider,
I saw Douglas Bader with two legs but peg a negative and hold your tongue,I like to watch the colours run on the drip dry line,processing time.
I don't like the fact that numbers attacked this art in forms of decimals it makes us vegetables
relying on the cut and crop of photoshop must stop.
I told her that it was no trick,he had the beard but the camera was sick,she listened to me in disbelief and from her briefcase took out a camera and snapped a picture of his face,
and now I'm fascinated in a way as to whether we can photoshop a rainy day and turn it into something good
I wonder if we could or not,must
take a look at
photoshop.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
You're the knight
I'm your steed
There are signs
I can't read
There are things
I can't be
The choir sings
When you see
An engagement ring
Will set me free
But you turn into a beast
And I'm your prey feast
So I hide in the crease
Between best and least
Between sinner and priest
Between molasses and grease
I hide from a monster
That looks like a lobster
Mixed with a mobster
Using a humanoid claw
To impose martial law
To avoid my small flaws
You were my Goliath of reliance
Until we collided with defiance
And I didn't know how to cope
With a lycanthrope
You're a mixture of Jackie Chan and Jackie Kennedy
You're in between human man and human centipede
You walk through the quiet land as I hide in the trees
The hourglass empties as the sand tickles like fleas
You're a monster unreal
When this way I must feel
You have the power to give or take my heart
And you've used that power from the start
You're a Tyrannosaurus rex
When you flex
You're a scarab beetle
When you're evil
The combination of the two
Is the reason my anxiety grew
You're a demon
That can ****** loneliness
You're the reason
I've become a bony mess
When I get things off my chest
To expose my organs
And you call it just fun
So I realize you're the one
From the emotions you take
And the emotions I can't fake
So meet me in the shed
And give me Pumpkinhead
To forget the blood I've bled
And the taste of mud I'm fed
So you can be my monster
I'm not worth
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
You hedonise yet killed your gamble
Coveting, lusting, groping for words.
You penetrate her deepest thoughts
Imprison her, criminal humanoid.
You steal her breath in the strokes of your pen
Your delirious limerick strangling her.
But your words in aching beauty
Gratify the body of your poetry.
Now you reached the ****** in your robust stanza
The provocative lines steaming desire.
You hit upon another magnum opus
A mortal sin told in the poem of Oedipus.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
(WE ARE!)
The space pioneers, planetary colliders seizing the heavens and placing them on earth, pop pop big bang brain busters that spin galaxies into milky ways and planets into candybars, the alien humanoid reflectors reflecting the sun back into Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
(WE ARE!)
The fire-starters, self-combustion, canvas arsonists. IGNITE! Light the streets on fire with your blood. Explode, implode, and explode again. Pilot to bombardier, we’re dropping bombs like Guernica.
(WE ARE!)
Wild creatures born out of black magic, black mamba, bear your ******* fangs! Be a predator! Find you’re prey, rip it’s ******* guts out, and paint something with them. Then scream, scream so loud that Munch himself would tell you to turn it down a notch.
(WE ARE!)
The creators, the ground shakers, the earth quakers, inventing ideas, gushing thought, and gushing blood because remember, you are alive! Alive with creativity, passion, and energy to create, because we are artists.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
gyrating harmonies intertwined
a thousand wordless dreams
expressed in reassuring grasps
of cool fingers
and feathered kisses.
floating in space
caught in the mist of a nebula
body split into a million particles --
breathing out
and reassembling.
two bodies juxtaposed.
familiar yet foreign.
passed down by multitudes of humanoid ancestry
-- but individually poignant, each moment a tangible wisp of memory.
secrets whispered in shaky breaths
borne on the back of vulnerability.
broken into pieces of raw soul.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 3:44 PM UTC
What sets us apart as humans?
Our vast knowledge of things that don't matter
Perhaps
The common core standards that textbooks preach
Maybe
Our self absorbed selective minds
Or
The fact that we cut our skin to feel beautiful
Quite possibly
The way we document every little thing we do
Or maybe
The way we measure our worth in the number
of likes on that selfie we posted
But I think
Aside from the flawed society we live in
What truly sets us apart
Is our craving for love
The need to give it
And receive it
And whether or not that's a good thing
I've yet to decide
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
*One breath is all it takes to
change my identity.
One step is enough for
My uncontrollable mind.
An imperceptible hand is
Leading me through their amusing creation.
Eyes once closed, nevermore opens.
Hollow thoughts, escaping my lips.
They mislead me,
Into the the confinement of my own emotions.
They enjoy messing with my mentality.
They relish getting under my skin; deep in.
They secured a place for me, the spotlight.
Making me entertain every personality.
They compelled me to anger them,
Making their voices get louder.
Their intention to sever my consciousness.
They earn for my downfall.
They accomplished their goal, a destructive doll.
A humanoid, a cold being.
They exhibits me,
Carries me through the center of myself.
Their amusement is crazily addicting.
It won’t be long before the invasion comes.
The aggression of my lunatic identities.
They're keeping my world in a hypnosis.
They're enemies inside of me.
They're making me the attraction of their psychotic parade.*
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 10:25 AM UTC
she falls for the beauty
of the cheekbone and spine
constellations of freckles
road maps of arteries
as she combs her fingers
through luscious waterfalls
she harbors a constant longing
to understand the vital *****
residing in his chest cavity
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
it's my last day being seventeen
and what i want to do is scream
howl menacingly into the void
and i want to stop pretending
i'm anything close to humanoid
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
*An isolated farm house
In the outskirt of town.
At the strike of 3a.m
Someone came knocking.
With a lamp at hand
Old Mrs. Peterson descended the Stairs Into her quaint living room,
To the door she went.
"Knock knock" it came again
Puzzled, at the grandfather clock
She glanced.
"Knock knock" again it came.
In trepidation, she approached the door.
Key turned, doorchain detached,
Gingerly, she opens the door
There was no one. No one!
Few seconds later, she was startled
By the sounds of hooves
Thumping up her stairs,
And on the wall
Was the eerie shadow of
A humanoid creature
With ram horns and hooves.*
I had better call the sheriff
She mutters in displeasure
**I have a **** bugler dressed in a crazy costume in my house**
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
Dying straight line
Blissful reverie beginnings
Fill mason jars with
Cataclysmic repertoires
And loving memories
Specifically orchestrated
Pyroclastic like similes
Apprehensive to gestation
Systematical count down
To an evitable destination
But a soul may yet soar
On breezes men never fly
To hear the tune of resonance
Corporal forms rarely perform
Feel opulence in not but illumination
Transparent millennia as but a flash
Far beyond a humanoid pursuit
So while a body starts with intending
Spirits are infinite and never ending
You may think we are a dying straight line
But we are a circle….reinventing.
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Is a pack, is a clique,
Is a group of tightly-knit friends
People who can rely on me
The way I'd rely on them.
But people these days are plastic dolls
Carbon copies, cardboard homes
And paper mache walls.
Disappointing, fake, humanoid clones.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC