"hypothesized" poems
In this world, this imperfect world,
So many problems are born.
Everlasting conflict,
Which as a collective species,
we are torn.
Do animals have rights?
Is there a God?
Did we come from primates?
Is the answer to the problems war?
Everyone just shakes and nods.
We deserve to know,
What's going on in this show,
That we call life.
Is it too much to ask,
To have a chat,
With the man behind the mask?
Please don't stall,
Cause I can no longer take,
This truth withdrawal.
None of us are thinking,
We are all brothers after all.
Everyone shares the same planet,
We all drink the same water.
Can't we just peacefully share this big blue ball?
Everyone seems to want answers,
But they don't know who to ask.
Pious fools pray for the knowledge,
Citizens look towards the government,
Only to get the answer from a mask.
We deserve to know,
What's going on in this show,
That we call life.
Is it too much to ask,
To have a chat,
With the man behind the mask?
Please don't stall,
Cause I can no longer take,
This truth withdrawal.
Too many questions!
Even more answers!
They believe what they are told,
And go back to their daily routine,
Like hypothesized dancers!
That's why I just say,
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Makes more sense then the other ******** you feed us.
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Why don't you believe us?
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Your political answers are just lies,
To protect the nationalistic demise,
Of our country.
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Just tell us the ******* truth!
We deserve to know,
What's going on in this show,
That we call life.
Is it too much to ask,
To have a chat,
With the man behind the mask?
Please don't stall,
Cause I can no longer take,
This truth withdrawal.
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 1:08 PM UTC
Regardless how precise the assay of their life,
Most men must remain an enigma;
Their motivation fired by inner strife
A polymorph for which no sigma,
Nor algebraic symbol will suffice.
No If and then which personality
To a course of action thus relates,
Nor can it be hypothesized conditionally,
The turmoil emotion intrinsically creates,
When alone they stare into death's reality.
Two dimensional is the biography of any man.
We see his length and width, never grasping depth,
Though fortune deems we live within his span.
Much like this into my life have crept
Those I love, yet may never understand.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
suspected of being
problematic, one is a
common
but
questionable
model, and an
adjustment
may
be
required
to address all
the nonsignificant
differences—
how
they
nonetheless constitute
important arbitrary
criterions
for
equivalence
the significance test
based on
observational
data
is
susceptible to (errors
of) interpretation
over the
question
at issue
namely, do
case differences
arise
because of
exposure
to a comparatively
small sample
or
because
of
another variable?
Exposure can be
only mediated
by
crude
estimates
and so may be
misleading
during
the
forming
of the hypothesized
model of one
that describes
the
association
between exposure,
bias, and
the variables,
and
reconciles
difference
with equivalence
significantly.
The model provides
little information
that is
incontrovertible
but
the results suggest if
adjustment for the variable
makes no
substantive
difference
ignore it
but if your knowledge
indicates the
adjusted
variable to
be preferable
then prefer it
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
Can what is perceived or hypothesized
as conscious finality be conceived or experienced
in the present consciousness?
If not, then is conscious finality an illusion?
Can what is perceived or hypothesized
as the beginning of consciousness
be conceived or experienced in the present?
If not, is the beginning of consciousness an illusion?
Is there such a thing as conscious finality
at the cessation of perception?
Or instead of a cessation, is it a shift,
or a dissipation of consciousness
that we presently perceive
as a cessation of perception?
Is there such a thing as a beginning
at the start of perception?
Or is it a coalescence of consciousness
that we presently perceive as a beginning?
At which point,
wouldn't all beginnings and endings
be an illusion?
Or are they shifts in states of existence
outside the event horizon of our perception?
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Gradually the sun sets, no longer a hero to chase away the darkness of the world, only leaving it's shadow to illuminate the Earth as it slowly spins away from it's bright visage.
A cool breeze begins to blow, enveloping the world in a frigid breath, allowing the last lingering signs of day to fade into the stillness of the night.
I raise my head from my pillow and move towards the window, looking out into a midnight field, as if only to reminisce about the past.
*A tiny child, betrothed to none other than promise, imagination, and potential.
A wayward girl, unknowing of her past or present, lost to dreams of a future untold.
A ruined teenager, lost to her father and mother, stripped of her true friends, known to all as no one.
A blank adult, unknown to all and shrouded in enigma and concern, yet somehow still a hypothesized complete and utter failure.*
I think quietly to myself, and skim my dull eyes over the picturesque view outside of my window, choosing to focus on the moonlight's reflection in the grass rather than on the thoughts that still rebound in my head.
*What was promised can not be unbroken
The ones I claim are my friends could care less about me
He had only done what he had because I was not good enough for him
I am only hurting like this because of the situations that I have created for my own torture and amusement.*
I place my head back down onto my pillow, feeling it dampen against my cheek.
No matter how hard I may try, this cannot be undone.
The moon takes hold of the sky, rising to it's uppermost point as I quickly slip away into the recess of my own mind, wondering what will come next, and how I will combat it.
Wistful thinking and hopes for a sunnier day bid me to sleep, and the world around me begins to fade to black as I tell myself yet again the same phrase I have been repeating for over a month.
Perhaps tomorrow, I will feel better. For now, I can wait.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
It hurts so much that I could cry--
I could die
asking "why"
was it all a lie?
You had my heart inside your hand,
yet demand
to leave a brand
for my soul's command?
I danced foolishly to your song
while all along
it was wrong;
now caught in pain's throng...
You held my gaze, so hypnotized,
my demise
by your lies
I never hypothesized.
Yet you can say you're not to blame
for your game
that profaned
my heart, now defamed?
Somehow you say: "Why can't you see,
it can't be--
will never be.",
after deceiving me?
Why would you play such a facade?
No laud
for such fraud,
your judgement was flawed...
Tell me why I cannot be mad,
not glad,
and so sad--
does that make me bad?
Why?
I don't understand,
what I've done wrong
to deserve only your guise,
my shame,
and this mute plea;
now crushed in your wicked maw,
left lonesome and mad...
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:24 PM UTC
Stuck
a twisted spot in my mind
A place that would devour you whole
There-
I
find solitude
It's where I found myself
sitting alone...
I have always been
Alone
Am I ever truly.
the contradiction spins itself in my head
hypothesized:
I will never Be
Me, Myself and Aigis
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
Coastin off
driftin soft
it seems like the thoughts
just come into to being
to become a loss
of a part
that i wish would
never have started
in the first place
these feelings touch me in oh so the worst ways
feels like ive been tossed at sea
stuck on this **** for hella days
So **** this ship
im over it
literally jumpin into the end
thats deep
where one is to tread water and never fully sleep
until its time to return to the grander skeem of things
why when its hypothesized are we so astrange
thinkin please no i dont wanna leave this place
crying out to whomever
wanting to change the weather
yerning to still feel this face
feeling of togetherness
in this entire being
but it can be misleading
you grow accustom and so fond of
the physical form that your seeing
If i had a choice
I would change my frequency
if only for a short time
to feel none of it at all.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
I stumble upon the root of all my problems;
The water-bearer and the fish, I suppose,
But the water-bearer was sliced thinly and eaten raw
I realized, I hypothesized, I anagnorisised;
*Now, now, that’s not a word,
That’s an excersize in child’s play.
You’d know better. You’d do bettter not to;*
But were I allowed to continue, I’d clarify;
You didn’t say anything?
I smiled.
Well, when you were my age, I was half of yours;
Do you remember me?
I’m not here to flatter you and you’re really begging the question.
Well, when you were my age, I was half of yours, so I suppose you understand?
I’ve never believed in numbers but these are undeniable, would you agree?
How did you chance upon such a place, such a position?
How was your day?
What’s your favourite bird?
Have you even seen a secret evolve?
Where are your eyes and your hands and your ears?
Have you felt me recently?
Dreamt of me?
How was your day?
My love, I’m trying to start a conversation.
Well, you know I’m not here to flatter you…
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 6:11 AM UTC
embattled researcher
mad-scientist hair-do
lot 47591-03F4 is not reacting as hypothesized
drawing board black hole ***** more life
from chalk caked fingernails
as the streets flow red with blood of the infected masses –
radiation poisoning runs rampant
across the northern hemisphere
undetected
slaying the unsuspecting
no one is protected
deflecting these thoughts he scratches a head
thin on hair, but long on freckles –
shadowy figure of death looms in the corner of every dream
creating a dependence on methamphetamine
which alters clear thinking
breeding ground of alternative ideas
half-crazed notions of grandeur and prominence
as soon as the world is saved –
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
The severity of the seriously
scientific professoring of poetic licenses
severing limbs
and one's sanity to turn
into a lackluster one dimensional
word
for word
matter of fact, i.e. Flat.
Now there is research and refined references
like mad-haired alchemists
having mixed two tinctures
wrongly
such liquids
exploding
whilst hypothesized
unremarkable through their myopia
faces intimate with the thickest book
make out session
with the obtuse...
A bureau, hmph
an organization dismissing the muses
and the breath
that we devour
a study on the facets
and romance
with life
written art works
spoken odysseys
magnanimous numbness of verb
magic of lustrous ***********
of star crossed
tempests
evermore a ravenous
soul
Poetry needs no bureau
The heart is only
a lonely hunter
if love were not its prey
to feel free
and truly alive
is the honest purpose
of the written and spoken
word
of poetry
of art of happiness
dancing the night away
in sonnet streets
who do we endeavor to example
when it is our own pen that must bleed
the awful truths
that needs combustion
the foreplay of time / life whispering in italics
beautifully
breaking down
laughter's tintinnabulations
all the world
all the life
our Oyster...
But seriously tho'
what the dealio...?
when I want to hear
a fearless something
soaked
and sensual
and real
so good
the words bleed rain
beaus
utter not
the words not words but
electricity
inner watercolors murals
from the emotions
this art dreams
intermingling
touching prose of roses
its scent a ghost
thick in the recollection
of farewells
the experiences we parallel
all in literary gusto
somehow
communication
erected from **** tube boxes
and artifice waves of wide webs
the slang jive
secret languages whined
signs and pics
depicts inflicts these times
slays the joy
and lovely words
of tiding of wise sayings
you say
with Monet expressions
your a lovely day
ignite me
the Beloved / the songs
the sun
a face of love
a glow
Do you feel me?
lub dub lub dub
the haiku sonnet odyssey
poetry
that is Life...
Today's lesson -
(seriously)
go learn to fly
a kite.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
.
The loudest barking
usually comes from a cat
claiming he’s a dog
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 2:43 PM UTC
we laid on the sand and we laughed as he pondered the cosmos above and I pondered the cosmos streaming through his veins. we talked about the boy he knew and the boy I know and we cried as we wondered why life was so unfair to the ones that gave it the most. we cried at the waves and we stomped on the sand and we cursed at the gods and the stars and the sun and the moon and anything else that we could put the blame of our recklessness on and we wished the worst and the best and the worst for all of the people that existed more than we.
he cried for the boy that lost his voice in the fight and the parts of himself that he lost every night after that. he could barely stand upright. and in a weary, cracking, voice, I looked up at him and asked, “are we ever going to go back to who we were?” and for the first time in all of documented and undocumented history, my collection of stardust, my religion of a boy turned cadaver, my flora and hellfire and fauna didn’t know. so we laid there, hand in hand, head in hell, pondering the cosmos. and we cried some more. we hypothesized as to why there were people starving to death and why humans killed humans in the name of God and why all the while we were sitting here in our little corner of the world crying over everything and everyone that had ever hurt us. but we shrugged it off. tonight was for the stars in his veins and in my eyes and in the sky. tonight was for crying for the boy who lost his voice in the fight. tonight was for mourning the parts of him that he lost every night after that and the parts of myself lost every midnight I watched him cry and lull himself into an ill fated sleep. the world is big. and the sand was so heavy and the water from the atlantic so amorphous and the dark sky so dulcet that I had forgotten about the trials and tribulations. but I snapped back as I heard his voice oscillate with every breath like my own berceuse. secretly, i loved this. but silently I wished for me and him to dissolve into our tears and up into the atmosphere, so the month of june and i would never have to deal with how cruel the world is ever again.
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
I caught you star gazing last night
You were staring at the ceiling with your eyes full of sprinkles as your body melted into the floor.
I watched your tears fall into to puddles of open clusters,
And the rhythm of your heart beat to the heat of the sun.
I watched your fingers turn to galaxy’s and your hair mold into the earth to become roots thirsty for knowledge from a well of an insomniacs early morning dreams
But these open clusters become disrupted over time,
by the gravitational influence of molecular clouds.
I can feel them pulling at you.
And you let them drown you into the sea.
It is hypothesized that people like you are made of dust,
Drifters and wanderers full of acid and dope but baby,
I see much more.
Looking through spectacles composed of the ocean floor I see fish swimming through your veins and coal reefs in your ears blocking the airflow from coming in.
I see doctors and lawyers prescribing you pills to keep the love you thought was real from failing and I see great white sharks to swallow your pain with Prozac and Cipralex.
You know the effects of smoking,
and the pollution to the forest in your lungs but you breathe in the chemicals because were programmed for rat poison to make us feel alive.
You crave sunsets.
But through prescriptions and sleeping pills I see the 95% of the ocean that has not yet been explored and I see crystals forming in the pit of your eyes and I want to tell you that not all tears are worthless and not all paintings are pointless and I see the beauty in dandelions that some people call weeds.
I see the evil in rose petals and the delicacy in the thorns
and I see the world through eyes that refused to be hazed by politics and religion and the opinions of store clerks when you ask for a lottery ticket with a 20 dollar bill in hand because you hold on to the hope that something will happen and God will reward you for all you’ve done good with a bundle of money and stained glass windows complete with marble floors.
You hide away your **** rugs collected from japan and feel the wooden floor, scraping each fingernail and crying dark amethyst as your falling to your knees to get closer to hell in order to pray for heaven.
I turn so I can leave you to gazing,
Then I hear you draw a breath,
You turn to look at me with starfish covering your cheeks and your knuckles branded with scratches from pounding on great metal doors until they set you free.
I see a universe in you.
I see the roots in your hair,
and the sprinkles in your eyes.
I see the coal reefs in your ears,
and the forest in your lungs.
I see the 95% of the ocean that has yet to be explored.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC
It was never
Part of the plan
To fall
For you
I would have never
Hypothesized
That you would steal
My heart
It was never
Part of the plan
To embrace
Your love
I would have never
Ever thought
That your teasing would make
Me love you more
It was never
Part of the plan
But sometimes change
Is good.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
When I look into your eyes
I can see true love
hypothesized
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 4:55 PM UTC
Replaced,
Paradigm,
Shifted
With a downpour
In the night.
Souls,
Taking flight.
Years from now,
Upon steel plates,
High above us-
Masterminds
Displaced.
Our intelligence
Obsolete,
As artificial
Ingenuity
Breaks- free.
Taking control
Of Us.
Paradigm Shift,
All around,
Dismantling
Every thought
That ever
Meant
Anything.
Is everything that
They
Hypothesized
To be
Rewritten
By machines?
As they take over all we see.
What will we be?
It’s already happening…
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC