"hypothesis" poems
A catalyst is a chemical that speeds up reactions.
At least that’s what I learned in chemistry class.
Catalysts sometimes are the major factors in a reactions and without them,
The reaction could never happen.
Catalyst can be lab chemicals,
alcohol,
drugs,
coffee even,
or a person.
While lounging around one afternoon you were talking physics
And I turned it on your head and spoke of chemistry,
Knowing full well that I was speaking of our personal chemistries.
You were right, the physics of a relationship gives us the laws,
But CHEMISTRY can predict the outcome.
If you do the math and follow the directions,
you can determine the product without even doing the experiment.
Unless the reaction you are creating has never been attempted before by the scientists preforming the experiment.
They can flip through the books,
Read the essays,
Study the theorems,
Even attempt the calculations,
But if they don’t do the actual experiment,
They will never find their outcome.
Some things need a push,
A catalyst,
For them to form a bond,
React,
And combine into a stable combination.
Hypotheses must be TESTED, ACCEPTED, and RATIFIED
Before becoming a law.
No matter how based in logic your hypothesis might be,
You need the universe and its fundamental laws to back it up.
There are still surprises left in the universe.
Maybe you and I can be one of them.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Fear too is an epidemic, it stretches out like
An incubation period for a kind of doom
Population control, whispered a silent elite
Who engineer our wallets, our GMO food, our futures
Ebola was a convenient way, of making us fear
Who we once were again, black as a Nigerian
We died alone in deathbeds, isolated plastic containers
For who we once were, our organs giving out
Infection was a spider hand, MSM gave us
False positives, but could the main-stream-media
Be trusted any longer? Wasn’t this just a matter
Of time, an algorithm set loose upon the billions?
Fear is that place, where people go in adversity
It’s hypnotic like an audience at a concert
It’s contagious how the will for self-preservation can spread
Fight of flee, but where to run, out of the cities?
The new normal is a kind of paranoia
While we watch the situation very closely
Every hour there is underground news about
Another case in another country, Ebola isn’t
Your grandmother that only likes good climates
She’s an engineered hypothesis of how mobility
Causes any true pandemic to become a flamboyant outbreak
The comet that signals black plagues has been seen
Fear too is a weapon, when you can’t stop the world
Because it’s too costly to do so, and you can’t
Tell the world not to fly because we’re too free
We left Africa a long time ago, but who among us
Would stand 20 meters from their open graves?
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
Both latter and former, contrary and congruent
Neither gas nor solid, the river moves fluid.
No end and no beginning, just water moving… swimming…
A formless former that is a powerful latter
Contradiction through symmetry and space within matter
Passively energetic as potential becomes kinetic
Transparently reflective and silently phonetic
Thermally dynamic and fluidly frantic
The waters maintain a static chaos through mathematical mechanics.
Mechanically architected and architecturally mechanic
Water seems the perfect medium for analysis of a dynamic.
Dynamic existence and persistent resistance
Statically chaotic seems the architect’s insistence.
Equilibriomatic, with addition subtractive
Empirical measures fail to analyze the passive.
What simply is, simply is… Invincible to mimicry or microcosmic reenactment.
Experimental methods seek to unify the synonymous
Attempting to prove the objective with a subjective hypothesis.
Learn from the water, let its metaphor be imminent….
For the divine externality lies not without, but within it.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
I crushed it, and it regrew anyways.
The hypothesis, was more romantic,
than tossing and yearning all night
over losing teeth in a giraffe fight.
Your hypothesis, was more romantically
worded, than a thesis on how birds die on impact
when colliding with a glass windowpane,
retrieving teeth lost during a giraffe brawl.
Worded, like the thesis about how birds die during impact,
each line of the letter dripped with invisible ink,
like colliding with a glass window. Pain
is only fleeting, if the end comes close behind.
Every line in each letter, drawn with invisible ink,
doesn't sound in the pronunciation, which
is only fleeting, if the end line draws closed behind.
So close your characters behind you, and don't let the draft in.
Does it not sound in the pronoun, the annulment of which
leaves every thing indefinite, and incomplete.
So clothe your characters before you, so they don't let in a draft,
and catch a cold from ****** or being indistinct.
What leaves everything indefinitely incomplete
other than the ability of the mind to hypothesize,
and catch a cold in the **** state of being extinct?
The inability to reconcile your metaphorical heart and instinct.
The others, they, have the ability to hypothesize,
about what makes us toss and yearn at night.
I forgave your inability to reconcile. My heart: pure instinct.
So you crushed it, and still it grew anyways.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 8:18 PM UTC
Blue as the geography
of footprints across the dunes
quiet as the white music
of a silent moon
like the wind blowing
the soul off the water
the shadows go out
and are lost in the evening
I conclude the hypothesis
of sundown making no sound
while night climbs the vines
where lowing sadness abides
the ritual of tides pulls me under.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
I hate the distortion of what we are
right now
I hate not knowing who we are and
where we're going
as a whole
as a tribe of lost souls
but I can't dwell in the dream that we're all meant for something greater
this is all we're given, so why pretend there's anything better?
You're not abstract
you're not hyper intelligent
and I would rather deliver a gory blow to your face
than endure another profound hypothesis
I just want to feel something physical
for my skin hunger to be satisfied
I just want to improve something miserable
for my existence to go to the wayside
it's not there
we're all here
so let's go outside, please
and get some ******* fresh air
Jun 5, 2011
Jun 5, 2011 at 8:00 AM UTC
of beautiful things
willowy warbler's
wax'n wings
silvery strumming
singing sands
languid lagoons
in luxurious lands
carvings of creosote
cacti create
fulcrum of flame
thru frivolous
fate
volcanic vestibule
vestments and
vestiges
historical hypothesis
harmonious
heritage
melanin melange
mellifuous
mild
woodduck waters
wheeling and
wild
crystal caverns
creating
light
nocturnal nymphs
announcing the
night
sumptuous sunsets
scintillation's
scream
dramatic dawn
drawn
from
a
dream
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/2/2015
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
You are an artist
but I am not a masterpiece to be painted.
You are a mathematician
but I am not a problem to be solved.
You are a writer
but I am not a story to be penned.
You are a scientist
but I am not a hypothesis to be proved.
You are a musician
but I am not a song to be played.
I am not a prize to be won.
A code to be cracked.
A text to be translated.
A poem to be recited.
I AM DEFINED.
But I will not define you.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
**** these violent black holes
Compressing each and every passing soul
****** through these eternities
By vacuums of unknowns
On the other side where entropy awaits
There at the eventful horizon
Another big bang
At heaven's new gate
Hope is but a hypothesis
From an obsolete science book
Outdated in spirituality
Humanity is always
On the hook!
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
I’ve recently developed a hypothesis
It’s crazier than the idea of an atheist
The truth is the hardest pill to swallow when it stings like a vaccination
So I’m dealing with the fact that my love may be broken
I’ve had a broken heart but those can be repaired
With time, effort and divine intervention
The fibers of the heart can be re-stitched together
But my love – my ability to love – seems to be destructive
When you care too much, you lose what you wanted most
I wanted you; so I said so
That worked like a poison, numbing your feelings for me
My love is like a broken boomerang
I throw it out with heartfelt emotions
Hoping and waiting for your love in return
But my love never comes back at all
It doesn’t even come back as a letter ‘returned to sender’
It simply died when it was on its way
Whether in your negligence or on the journey love take us on
My love died like a single drop of water in the desert
I wish I could figure out the enigma of love and the defect mine seems to have
My love is broken like a bird without her wings
Grounded against her nature and denied to possibilities of true life
My love is withering in my own heart – you can only love yourself so much
I was ready to give you all I am
But somewhere along the way I feel like my love is not only broken…
I tried another time to love another soul
My broken love had a heart attack and died in route to the grave
It wasn’t taken to a hospital because my love was a lost cause
Something unworthy of its name; love
My love was never seen as love by any other being
It was seen as infatuations or crushes that crushed life out of attraction
So now that my love is dead, what do I have to offer the world?
We all respond to lost love in our own way
I would fight until I had no breath or strength – then again
Maybe it’s not my love you need, or even want
That’s the trouble with loving you
I overstep, overlook and over-wish
My love was just too strong for it’s own good
Now I weep in the arctic for the faithless cruelty
An arctic that I call summer from the frozen tundra of my heart
Hell has frozen over – hell has become my heart
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
*love is a rhythm i choose not to edit
burning serpents in syncopated tones
stolen vibrations from conquered nations
i am amazed at slavery's undertones
doomsday hypothesis
insufferable hypocrisy
is this the way we are meant to perceive
reality's final throes
perhaps a last attempt at infatuation
another insurgency toward our situation
there is music in the millipedes
1,000 feet stomping on the hot pavement
midday heat is burning the gentlest of trees
and yet saving lives of anteaters in need
grief is complete and not wasted
never jumbled by threads of frailty
insipid lipids deftly crawl upon caterpillars shoulders
starry eyed soldiers
sold to the streets in shivering brokenness
i am madness incarnate
the west is a spectacle of insubstantial lunacy
if you wish to conquer this reality
open your heart and kiss the feet of kindness
blindness is worshipped as if it was wisdom
sincere victims of another’s prison
simpler lives define simpler times
keepers of the rhythm
keepers of the rhyme
i dine on salamanders and supine slivers of the moon’s heartbeat
fault no one but yourself
gifts are wealth
i am salt and sulphur is the mother of the soul
loose cannons explode
she rode the wild shadows
and took the backroads all the way home
infinite living history
his memory serving beauty forever
for a lifetime i am looking for truth
in shattered space and respecting the face of the ancestors
self aware shades of solidarity
harvested by hands made light with clarity
is this music
is this meaning
her openness is our healing
this majesty surrounds us all
resolve to rise and your bound to fall
small instances of randomness daily
semantics are happenstance
you graduate from school with a bouquet of flowers
that rot in the morning’s splattering of paint
as garbage heaps resist ***********
issues of power and surface tension
i am dreading the exceptions
give love now or move out of the way
stay awake and aware
while sadhana is beckoning to us all*
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Far more than a body
Far less than just substance
A paradox in existence
Absolving the tether with wisdom and clarity
The constant constellations, lead me to revelations.
To disconnect the cortex, and spiral into flight.
Spiral into photosynthesis, forgetting your hypothesis.
Conclusions will decompose your will, to experience the universe.
Stretching far beyond the mortal grasp, consuming your given vision.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
My family doctor suggested bed rest.
If that was a statement rather than a suggestion,
I wouldn't know, because the redundancy of those
two words was enough to keep me idle,
awake, agitated for days.
It was around the time he carefully
scribbled his script onto the blue pad
that I began to chuckle. This prefixed
prescript was only a temporary solution
that was barely legible. Whether or not
a scribe in this profession is meant to
be as erratic as nomadic cavern canvas,
it speaks volumes that the DSM IV considers
substantial. Until a once thought preconceived
notion becomes precedent in the ongoing
sought after expansion of knowledge.
A continuation of disorder and disease,
the facts and fallacies,
all become testing.
The standard practice is only as strong
as its weakest hypothesis.
More so when it becomes general practice.
I would like to believe
this to be an emergency,
but the white-coat before me
felt the need to sidetrack,
and thought it appropriate to mention
youth in Asia.
The deadpan humor
was disconcerting.
But not as unnerving
as the redundancies that
were given to me as a solution
for my sporadic sleep.
Some insurance!
Reassure me, doctor!
So, he did,
through his proclivity
for pharmaceuticals.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
First of these eight categories is math.
From axioms to logic it takes a very exact path.
Deals with conjecture and theorems; creating laws about the world.
Sometimes this complicated topic makes me want to hurl.
Next comes ethics with many complicated questions,
Using morals and values to give the proper suggestion.
Depends on people's views that differ by culture,
Questions from "Theft to save your family?" to "Killing a vulture?"
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Up comes history dealing only with the past;
It is only concerned with evidence and the facts.
Studies government propaganda to the plight of the peasant.
Deals with any kind of knowledge from creation to the present.
Fourth on the list are the human sciences,
From many loaded questions to our stream of consciousness.
Observations to conclusions, free will to determinism,
Deals with our knowledge of the world from the atom to reductionist
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Religious knowledge systems deal with people's beliefs;
Knowledge of God and the heavens to the world beneath.
From polytheism in Athens to life after death,
Knowledge coming from religion concerns us to our last breath.
The natural sciences, knowledge of the natural world,
Explaining how things work like biceps d'ring a curl.
Hypothesis, theories and all sorts of paradigms,
Knowledge so revolutionary that in the past it was a crime.
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Indigenous knowledge systems, the customs of the tribe,
Using folklore and storytelling to spread ancestor's pride.
Knowledge or tradition and customs of the ancient nomads,
Anything about the indigenous from the good to the bad.
Last on the list, the final area of knowledge,
Is the arts, all the way from elementary to college.
Dealing with aesthetics, forgery, kitsch and catharsis;
Without this types of knowledge we'd be stuck in the darkness.
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
{After James Tate's 'Consolations After an Affair'"}
My piano breathes with each of its keys:
it aspires to inspire change
in someone's watering mind.
I have paintings that I did not paint
that do more observing than the scientist.
They know nothing of evolution and it's hypothesis.
For them to see and feel
is all they need to express.
I've discovered that I don't need
to prove myself for my own approval.
A jellyfish escapes and dances behind me
as swift as the flame of a fire.
Now I can taste the truth,
a place filled with disgust and desire.
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 8:30 PM UTC
Some people say Im mad I just blame the L-RAD
Attacked by services syndicate post grad
Breaking the code of conduct that's sad
Criminal cause nullify's the collaborative ad
All privileged storm troopers got more than I have
Is the conscience alive while watching that sat-nav?
As a key worker your care is what we have
But straying for a kickback is a dent & bad
The mental health stigma is the foot soldiers weapon
Labelling us mentally ill with the DSM con
Exclaiming we're mental while the victim is alone
Stigma comes from the compound hear us groan
Hearing me everywhere have traits of a stalker
Attacking innocents with energy weapons lawbreaker
Violating human rights piggy back hijacker
The conspiracy hypothesis is the startler
Whats the biological molecular structure
Of a mental health disorder
A caucus of people of who can shout louder
Followed by misrepresentation from a reporter
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 6:35 AM UTC
(Commemoration of Earth-Day, 22nd-04-09)
Earth hath
Been Weeping!
Nature lacerated & pleading?
Extinct species beseeching;
Antarctica mercilessly melting,
Noxious gaseous emissions heating.
Have you ever wondered?
“Of the Greek mythology!”
women warriors of Scythia astray burned off the
Right ***** to try
to habituate the bow and arrow in sly,
arsenals of terror abound harsh shear ploy!
Hitherto, the atrocious force upon Nature ne'er stops.
Wherefore-now the lost leaf of the conifers?
Searching for the nearest route to the Savannah Plains,
Waiting pro the long anticipated cascades of the tropical rains. Babylon wrests & clinches intimately thy adored hanging gardens that black slaves tend no more hasten. Euphrates in the Persian Gulf wanders uncertain; Everest looks down in pitiful scorn…
As it wobbly looses its molecular activity in pain.
Humanity squirms in an enamored Trance
to heave a foundation Of conscious Purpose
That Earth day waits Upon us
To elucidate a divine Hypothesis.
~~/|\~~
Namaste'
~~\|/~~
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 4:49 AM UTC
like a seesaw, there is a nonexistant stable foundation, only yes and no answers
you are a rhetorical question and an untested hypothesis, but this is all wrong
this army wasn't meant to stir in it's wake, and this was a natural homecoming
that could only end in some complex disaster, and my roots were torn from home,
swiftly kidnapped, finding eagerness in the idea of you and the solace you bring
i am acutely aware that you could bend me into whatever you wished, a bow on your tree
something proud that you can show everyone, but i'm scared of being treated less than deserved
like a crumpled up idea on paper that was never meant to be shown with the answer, solution, counterclaim written in permanent black marker, forevermore never changed in my eyes, i merely forgotten about the acid reflex i'd get after i was given a finalized ultimatum, forgotten how to see in color because my brain can only remember you in monochrome, but you're so vivid in my head, there's no way someone like you could be just smoke and mirrors, i've read and folded every page of your autobiography to save for later whenever i needed some peace of mind.
- kra
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
It’s rare that you're here
and when you are, you still aren't
sometimes you speak to me with words
usually you leave without saying goodbye
I have drawn so many conclusions
but I haven’t proved any hypothesis;
you don’t need a method for everything
I’m starving,
but I won’t eat
because I don’t want to swallow any more of your words
that are so hard to digest,
that confine me to my bed,
that don’t escape my system for months
so I won’t come clean
and I don’t want washing.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
as soon as she sees it she wants it is entitled to it while she is stealing it she begins elaborate lie everybody knows if she truly wants it she has means everybody knows she is gorgeous movie actress celebrity starlet awesome accessory genius she convinces herself she did not steal it the darling delicate chain with finely crafted handcuff clasp and accompanying key she wears it effortlessly just another imperial trifle hanging around her exquisite throat she has no idea how it got there she may have a drug problem a little dizzy even careless but she is no thief what with her magnificent beauty idyllic body prominent discography why would anyone accuse her she is submerged in deep denial why with so much to lose and absolutely nothing but tiny shimmering embellishment to gain why do tell would anyone point a finger at her she probably wasn’t even ever there at that dicey store she never tried on the astronomically overpriced bling it may have been her dodgy handlers or stylist’s suspect mismanagement and subsequent loan hypothesis she is positively not a thief it’s too insignificant an item to squabble about a mere gold necklace the whole incident ridiculously overblown cruel in fact she hates the miserable paltry piece of jewelry here take it back she insists it never graced her illustrious neck if anything perhaps a cheap ploy by Venice Beach shop to enhance it’s value oh the genuine necklace that she stole
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 12:12 PM UTC
1482
’Tis whiter than an Indian Pipe—
’Tis dimmer than a Lace—
No stature has it, like a Fog
When you approach the place—
Nor any voice imply it here
Or intimate it there
A spirit—how doth it accost—
What function hat the Air?
This limitless Hyperbole
Each one of us shall be—
’Tis Drama—if Hypothesis
It be not Tragedy—
1.8k
it was an inevitability
that we'd unearth the evidence
to validate Einstein's theory
of general relativity.
three cheers for the
method of science,
an appliance that
liberates and enlightens,
suffocating the miasma
of dogmatic parasitism.
pariahs can't stand beneath
the weight of empirical data.
a culture of imperialism
intoxicating inane idiots,
inundated by asinine philosophy.
ideologues instigating turmoil—
vainly believing
an intergalactic being
created the cosmos
in seven days for the
predestined elect.
to insist inanely that the legacy
of our existence could be measured
in seven millennia
is to extinguish the light
from the majority
of our neighboring galaxies.
you read the opening lines
of your holy text too literally.
open your mind to the poetry
of a reality that no deity
could ever breathe into existence.
we are not special.
our fate is tied to a
planet choking on CO2
and you deny the truth
in the same breath you
disparage any challenge
to your impotent,
imaginary friend.
**** sapiens—
mere animals
cursed with
conscience.
if you would deny
the ancestral history
of our evolutionary biology
simply on the premise
that it's “only a theory,”
then i'd invite you to put
your vain hypothesis
to the test and take a long walk
off a short bridge.
perhaps the theory of gravity
will provide with you some clarity.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
The piper came again
In this world of pain
The clouds were packing up in the last part of the sky
Turning themselves to dragons, the ostriches left behind
In a race which has no end
From eternity to eternity
As free as a bird
The unicorns, angels, owls n strings of guitar
Everything moving in their own pace
Following the tune of the piper
To a world where there are no boundaries
Where there are no divisons
Where there are no societies
And the trees are friends
The door opens with warm welcome of the sunrise
The dogs of this world don't bark at men
And dragons wait for the ostriches
The forests echo with laughter
And everyone is happy
Here no one is hungry n no one has greed
No sloth, no control, no envy, no judgement
No wrath, no cautiousness, no reasonings, no hypothesis
The strings speak, cry and sing in synchrony
The songs of unity
The songs of fraternity
The songs of spirituality
Here streets are unbaptised
People have no types
And u don't need an identity to prove yourself a human being
Because here, all is one and one is all
Pain is not a word here
If u come with stetho, they'll send u back
No hypocrisy, no pretending
And u can keep ur things at ur places
And everything is in a motion
With the tune of the piper
Now when the trust is broken
The light is split into colours
They race with different speeds
The beats and tunes of the strings turn to mere noises
Unicorns fight to break down their horns, get turned to horses
Who again begin to race
The ostriches get extinct
The dragons fight
And the river of blood flows
The vultures appear
The bacteria begin decaying things
Into gases that poison civilisation
The division begin and people sing their anthems at minutest levels
And the world splits into billion pieces
Everyone trying to increase their territory
Coz they need bigger spaces and they fight for more
But when the two worlds fuse
The freedom is extended
And they call it love
The more they love, the more freedom they experience
They begin a journey
From eternity to eternity...
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC