"hypothesizing" poems
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
I've scrapped the first
fifteen versions of a poem
I don't want to write or
maybe I want to write it but I'm
afraid I won't like it or
am I just afraid of what I might
say,
of what my subconscious will
convey?
Ink drying up like dried blood
while the blood in my veins
pulsates and my
head throbs as I try to decipher
how much of what has happened
to me is actually because
of me.
Is it me?
Are my experiences mine because
I made them so,
or did I happen to just
stumble into the darkness?
A sour mashup of
self-love and self-loathing,
it's like I have two minds intertwined
double-analyzing double helix
radioactive brain DNA
Am I great? Am I awful?
Am I even worthy of such extremes?
Where are all the adjectives to
describe me?
Can I write about it if
it changes daily?
Is it possible to know yourself perfectly and
also not at all?
Questions generating more
questions,
hypothesizing Eye
must seek before
I find.
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
In dreams, I've lived. In life, I'll die.
In dreams, I get to say "hello" again.
In life, I have to say goodbye.
In dreams, I'm not afraid.
But in life, I'm terrified.
Terrified of what I don't know. What I can't see.
Terrified I won't be who I'm meant to be.
But what if that's by design?
What if dreams are visions of heaven
and nightmares visions of hell?
I could sit here forever hypothesizing,
so I'll leave you with one final thought.
We tell each other to follow our dreams.
If dreams are visions of heaven,
maybe all of our failures, our efforts,
are not for naught.
Dec 19, 2021
Dec 19, 2021 at 7:31 PM UTC
And In your arms is where I want to be
But I can see you are lost in her sea
Where my ship can never safely set sail
So my heart begins to silently wail
These words that you present in a promise
Haunt my mind steadily with this malice
That tore the limbs of this yearning spirit
Realizing the loss of each minute
We wasted hypothesizing that night
Of a time where we could be with no fight
But she is yours forever in this time
Where I am the revenge of her cold crime
With this tears shed into my own ocean
Where I will bleed out this paining poison
And find myself with a freshly white mind
A canvas where you will not be found
So you two will live in your lasting love
Without my breath and the pestering dove
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
I have heard that words strain
But I have never felt it as acutely
Hypothesizing as lustreless
Than when I spoke
Trying to paint you images
Speculation in rhyme
Present a piece of my soul
Save some secrets
Sealed behind some lines
But speech failed me
And words
Strained and shattered
But even so
A strand of a connection shines
Can you see it?
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
musing on pondering,
cogitating on ruminating,
postulating on speculating,
considering multiple theories,
deeming the discrepancies deniable
positing the petty presumptions,
theorizing multiple condsiderations,
apraising the mediations,
digesting the deliberations,
allowing for freefall meditation,
envisioning the expectations,
presuming the pontifications,
anticipating the asumptions,
comprehending the conclusion,
accrediting the rationalizations,
concluding the comprehesion,
spinning synaptic wheels,
hypothesizing the conjecture,
recollecting of the reminiscence,
adumbrating the prognostigcation,
concocting of the subliminate,
masticating on the cereberal machinations,
of the ocillations, in the agitatation,
apparent,
in an insomniac's maniacal brain,
reckoning not,
on the simple summation,
of the night's wayward,
mental arbitratration,
there is... just too much time,
to think....
and far too little time to write....
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
You never felt right for me
In just a year I've found **** luck
Hypothesizing a love life
With the conclusion of
A beautiful future,
Two souls intermingling
No, I don't understand the concept
My youth screamed like a spoiled child
That it was right when everyone said
It wasn't
I listened, I listened then crashed
You told me one day love wasn't for you
My throat clenched and choked
My page of trust was ripped out
My heart poured out on a hospital sheet
Was drilled into, wasn't serious to you
And yes, I underrated my heartache
To not look like a loser for love
A part of me wanted a future with you
Wanted to say that I proved them wrong
Had something to be proud of
Not broken, yet not held together
I refuse to be, because I've
Been there far too many times
You make me sit at the table
Waiting for the clock to change
I look for a call, a declaration of love
But instead, you hurt me
And anytime I think about you
I am disgusted with myself
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
musing on pondering,
cogitating on ruminating,
postulating on speculating,
considering multiple theories,
deeming the discrepancies deniable
positing the petty presumptions,
theorizing multiple condsiderations,
apraising the mediations,
digesting the deliberation,
allowing for freefall meditation,
envisioning the expectations,
presuming the pontifications,
anticipating the asumptions,
comprehending the conclusion,
accrediting the rationalizations,
concluding the comprehesion,
spinning synaptic wheels,
hypothesizing the conjecture,
recollecting of the reminiscence,
adumbrating the prognostigcation,
concocting of the subliminate,
masticating on the cereberal machinations, of the ocillations,
in the agitatation, apparent in insomniac's maniacal brain,
reckoning not,
on the simple summation,
of the night's wayward,
mental arbitratration,
i have way too much time
to think...
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
and noticing that much
is enough to remind me that
all of this only amounts
to meteoric chances and happenstances,
so even the worst of it will come to its end—
and maybe that just has to do
with the optimistic sap in me.
But even then, you greet me
“Good morning,” and I hear you,
and you sound like you're of the Sun
touching through the barricades of Woodbury,
where the undead ******* can't touch us.
And you buffer the cold of the wind
and the wet of the rain
when the kindling is too soaked
to start a fire big enough
to counter the draft
coming from under the doors,
or dry our jackets by the fireplace.
Which probably sounds like naivety,
but even after Woodbury rots from the inside out,
and we lose the car and our last can of beets
somewhere during our escape, and the rest of the way,
we're joking about the way things were
before they got worse, while hypothesizing
about the fall of man, epidemics and expiration dates
to forget the endless hills aching our feet, I could tell you:
“Sure, I mean, there are ten-thousand ways
the world can go to **** (and it probably has,)
and I might not live to one-hundred-three,
but if the world's gonna burn on me now,
it's always better watching with you.”
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
Just escaped from reality
Tiptoeing to delusion's point of entry,
Pseudo-relationship with no fidelity,
Contented with a never scribed weepie.
Out of the blue it proliferated,
Warmth really not anticipated.
Feelings should remain in reticence
Peculiarity should persist as dense.
The brisk walk of solitude
Instigated the emotional interlude
Ambiguity is deceit
Thus confide to fate.
Frenzied by the inkling,
Agitated by hypothesizing
Make-believe misapprehension
Struck by realization
A full swing slap
Painfully filled the missing gap
Unmask the ambiguity
Then become a fool voluntarily
A momentary glee
Never merits it genuinely,
Seize it while it lasts,
Until it will be part of the past.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
Far moost o' me
three score minus one year
tethered upon terra firmae where
planet Earth doth veer
(spins upon the global axis
(tilted 23.5 degrees from the plane
of its orbit around the sun),
terrestrial genesis (perhaps accompanied
for Pete's sake by Gabriel
blowing his horn) in all honesty unclear
boot more oven concern
points to thermonuclear
and/or subnuclear
war, particularly at forefront
of thine primate noggin
actively hypothesizing
theoretical armageddon,
when non plus ultra gravitates
with e pluribus unum necessitating
each individual to bend over
and kiss his/her rear
goodbye unless total merciless queer
hue loss atomic fallout immediately
incinerates e'en
the moost savvy profiteer,
which aforementioned prognostication
arose from overbear
ring hazy, hot and humid
dangerous heat spell near
lee approximating insufferable
temperature nearing triple digits
(along Eastern Seaboard
of United baked States
makes this human,
an immediate convert to climate control
(though he happened tubby already)
basking, glorifying, and luxuriating
within delightful 60º Fahrenheit mere
really expressing gratitude for such
creature comfort donning my
stretched out birthday suit,
(yet thee moost comfortable leisurewear
then thrift store "special bag
mountain of clothes
as mooch as Yukon sales,"
no matter mine ill mannered
mirrored reflection doth jeer
at such a sorry sight, and/or
laugh reading interlinear
monologue colloquy,
which message gleaned between lines,
and should this poem be red aloud,
thy ******** passion linkedin
with humming HVAC, ye would hear
courtesy hove cochlear
(hollow tube in the inner ear)
sensitive to deafening sounds...so beware!
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
through space and time
your thoughts like rockets,
red hot, misguided, overfunded
too busy orchestrating, calibrating, hypothesizing, re-caffeinating
stringing errant thoughts and business plans and lines of code like children's macaroni, haphazard and fervent and
you don't pay attention to anything
not the groceries, the gasoline, the grime
not quiet, murmured, shrieking, spat out reminders
not the sunlight moving through the trees
not your birthday, the laundry, your mother
not my face in the morning, hands reaching
not the directions, not your appointments or morning meetings
not the wishes and dreams I murmur into your pillow
not our dog, water bowl clattering and bone dry
eight years past and the rage blisters my palms white hot
some wicked amalgamation, a spiteful frankenstein
mothering until your skin is smooth, peaceful
unmarred by sounds of pleading
begging, echoing
and even if the noises reached an unwavering pitch
past rooftops and crowns of trees
it would not matter
for you don't pay attention
are you now?
Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 9:47 PM UTC