"illustrate" poems
Hey lets start this thing and gain a little mnemonic
Cuz the teachers always explaining things so dull and robotic
But you got it, just trust this rhyme and I promise you'll have it
Let me teach you the equation for the function quadratic
It goes A, X and a 2 up high
Add that to a B multiplied with a Y
Put a plus sign and add the third term, the C
And set all that equal to a 0 bee
It's that easy, with that you can plot the graph
That will show you where the ball went and its flightpath
See the value of X shows where the line hits the axis
To illustrate where the ball was caught and where it was passed
It's cuts of cake to find this data with a formula rap
So keep in mind these fresh rhymes to the beat of the clap
You set X on the left, follow with an equal sign
Put the next little sect about a dividing line
And that little piece starts with a negative b
Add and subtract square root of B high 2 minus 4AC
Then divide what you get by 2 times A
If you forget this part man, your whole answers at stake
But if you follow my rules, and do all of this rap's math
I guarantee the next reports gonna say that you passed
Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 3:42 AM UTC
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session.
Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such.
Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an *** Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
My hands have betrayed me.
Once the means to write pages,
Now my hands are only dead weight.
My hands won't pick up a pen.
Or even type short,
Choppy sentences.
They dangle at my sides
And find refuge in my hair,
Leaving me bleeding.
Like my hands,
My mouth has declared itself
My enemy.
Once the passageway for words
To explain myself,
My mouth is now as useful as a broken bridge.
With nothing of value to say,
It talks
And sings anyway.
It opens without my permission
But stays closed whenever I try
To scream meaning.
The inability to illustrate
Or translate my mind
And my soul
Is not an unfamiliar ordeal.
But it's lonely on the outside
And frustrating looking in.
It seems I'll always feel like an alien.
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 3:38 AM UTC
1.) You have the most loving heart. Your warmth, your gentle touch that you personify without words. Melts the supports of my heart
2.) Eyes of deep blue, that ensnare me and leave me thoughtless. How they change into everglade greens, and mystical greys. They're beautiful
3.) Few laughs may be as pure as your quiet giggle. The mere sound gives me goosebumps and a funny feeling in my stomach. You're so freakin' adorable
4.)The curves of a semi-circle aren't nearly as perfect as yours. You've worked alot for the perfect body. I simply need to ask... How can you make something that's something that is already perfect better?
5.) Spontaneous, unexpected and surprising. You keep me on my feet, keep me entertained and make me enjoy every second with you. Who knows what I am to expect?!
6.) Once upon a time, there lived to fluffy bunnies, they decided to leave their little hole and go out on an adventure. A wolf came along and bit of the rabbits head and it bled to death Its so dark, and it leaves you wondering what to think. I love your dark side. It both terrifies and intrigues me
7.) You're so intellectual. I love some of the things you say and more importantly write! You have an amazing capacity for knowledge and wisdom and you use it well. It baffles me, some of the connections you make in your essays and assignments
8.) My love you illustrate a maturity that surpasses your years. Pertaining to your ability to be responsible and reliable if and when - not that I ever am - clearly am not able to be. I think you're the one looking after me. I'm the older one, who just happens to have an 8yr old inside them~
9.) You smell amazing, but no. Seriously, you are in every way, shape or form. The most amazing, star studded, picture perfect, superbly sensational girl. I could ever have met. Yes, let the alliteration flow
10.) Because you're you, and you are mine
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
The power of Averages,
it means a lot
if you can
understand Means, a lot.
Assuming a Normal Distribution,
A Standard Deviation, or σ
defines where about 68% of the data falls;
roughly 34% above and below the Mean.
Two Standard Deviations
defines where a further 28% of data lies;
14% above and below 1σ and -1σ.
Positive 1-Sigma is one Standard Deviation above the Mean
Negative 1-Sigma is one below;
The range from -2σ to 2σ includes 96% of data.
The implications are astounding.
Within 3 Standard Deviations, one finds 99.7% of the data;
Within 4σ, 99.9%, 5σ, 99.999%,
the remainder are generally outliers and other improbable results.
To illustrate:
Suppose we had a group of 100 people,
and we wish to determine average height:
If our Mean height ends up being, say, 180 cm,
with a Standard Deviation of 20cm,
We can suppose that of 100 people, on average,
with a certain Margin of Error that is inversely proportionate to our Sample Size, or n
(for sake of argument, the Probable Error, or γ, is 13.49cm)
4 are taller than 220cm
14 are between 200cm and 220cm
68 are between 160cm and 200cm
14 are from 140cm to 160cm
4 are shorter than 140cm
--
Statistics is the parent of Probability;
Statistics is the Art and Science of Forecast,
Statistics paves the way for modern Science
Statistics is a powerful weapon in the fight against Ignorance
Statistics, however, are generally and intentionally misrepresented and thus misunderstood.
For increasingly accurate figures,
one must have a larger Sample Size
and a Sample group that is a representative subgroup
of the Whole
*This is intentionally abused
by most of the News
you read or see each day on Paper and Screens alike.*
If a "Statistical analysis" does not include at least
Margin of Error or Probable Error,
Mean (Average), Standard Deviation, and Sample Size
do not take it as accurate.
Depending on the source,
it could even be deliberately malicious.
Arm yourself with Knowledge.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
let me equate my genitals
to a predatory animal
to illustrate my ****** prowess
and mating standards
in song:
my vampire squid don't
my vampire squid don't
my vampire squid don't want none
unless you got an anaconda ***
my disdain for your personality
and general mentality
is also strong, simply because:
i like *big ***** and i cannot lie
you other sisters can't deny
that when a boy walks in with a six pack
and a hose thing in your face
you get wet
disembodying objectification,
stereotypical representation,
hedonistic utilitarianism,
and *** ed with some rhyme:
black boy sippin' white wine
put my fist in him like a civil rights sign
then he came like aaaaah! (1)
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
your first step on the road to "recovery"
was to tape words on your reflection
colors littered with senseless lessons
colors littered with senseless rules
your second step on the road to "recovery"
was to trail words on the thin walls
tainting the white trim of your door
the words were like water seeping from
your demon flooded bedroom
your third step on the road to "recovery"
was to illustrate the words in unsustainable images
literally photoshopped to the unachievable
recovery became self indulgence
you have a skewed sense of progress
thinking consuming the clean will clear you of your sins
but your sins are buried deep in the abandonment you kept hidden
in the hallows of your debt
self recovery cannot be found with words spat out of context
hanging on your reflection
self recovery is found when you reflect those words into context
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
Sunset is my favorite color.
When the sun paints the sky
with its most vibrant hues
as if to illustrate the divinity
of its love for the moon.
And isn't it funny that
Sunset always makes me think of you.
Mar 2, 2022
Mar 2, 2022 at 1:08 AM UTC
intelligent Iggy iguana is impossible,
ignorant, ill, if it is in.
impersonator Igel is into infinitive items
I illustrate intros
Iberia is interesting in ice
I'm Impeccable!
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
Pencil ✏ and pen ✒
My Faded lines
My added lines
Ways to decide '
My flows with a ink
As my hand could only
move forward in length but
Could not go back backward height
Direction to illustrate
my path with a stick
Pencil and Pen
Actually actions is so little as
my first name written with
ink and stick of my followers
Saying, am a Pencil and
our lives Is a symbol of pen
I can only destroy my pathway
but cannot change my way's of life
Pencil and Pen
You hast put my love ones
into epic sleep by the Difficult passenage
Like a blade line's through my skin,
even when I choose to Fill my pathway with ink's
I still ran out of source'
Looking for a source to refresh my ways
I think,
Am gone
And another pen could be' my kid ' as he
Count my lines through freedom and unbearable pain
Am a Pencil ✏
Am a Pen ✒
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 7:25 PM UTC
As a romantic, out of the blue,
Dear Lover, I simply wanted to say…
The history behind each of my words does not define,
The formation of my sentences does not refine –
The number of poems I write does not demonstrate,
The amount of text I compose does not illustrate –
The extent of my love for you,
Which extends well beyond the Milky Way.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
Yadda......yadda......yadda
he's dying of loneliness
Go listen to the news
They're Nine million people lonely in the country
You're all known for your coldness
Some don't even know their neighbours
You abandon your parents when they get old
Put them away in Retirement homes
when was the last time you saw your elderly mum
when was the last time you called your sister
Thank God for the GRASS being the scapegoat used by crooks
To illustrate community mobbing let us all gang up together
Now you're hugging the Asians and the blacks are your best friends
yadda......yadda......yadda
come join the club we are all mates now
against that outsider grass we welcome all
the ***** ******* are molesting women oh it's just
to make grass envious cause we've stopped him loving
talk to me I hate you no more because grass is more hated
no more bullying you just join us and help us harass that grass
don't trouble that foreign shopkeeper we now want him to join
welcome Muslim brothers and sisters come join us
we now like you cause we have somebody else to hate
hey Mr ugly come here for a hug just make sure its in front of grass
you my loner friend be lonely no more you are now a club member
you Somalian, you Ethopian, you chinese, you Ugandan no matter
everyone is friends no more hassle just hate the grass as much as us
yadda......yadda......yadda
this is politics we fool and fool you all
when we need you you are our best friends
we show you our commonality and bring you into the fold
just make sure you do as you're told and don't grass like grass
we will give you opportunities to make grass jealous
we will forge a grapevine from here to Kathmandu and beyond
we will teach you hate and poison your stinking minds
we will imprison you and make you our slaves to serve us
just make sure you give that grass a hard time and come for a prize
this is all our secret and your minds belongs to us gangstalking crew
make him lonely make him friendless and show viva democracy
You are all simpletons and that's how you will stay in our pockets
this is a union of morons by morons for morons and the crooks win
yadda......yadda......yadda
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 3:26 AM UTC
You are my skyline
The boundary line
Between earth and sky
My apparent horizon
You are the outline
Of my life
You are the building
Of my dreams
Against the twilight
You are the opening
You are the frame
You greet me in the morning and
You tuck me in at night
My lovelight
You are my
Skyline
How can I describe the
Days in and days out
Of walking this earth
Of being alive
What it means to survive
You illustrate the sketch
I am your design
As I walk the soul-path of this life
I step into your celestial sphere
I listen I observe your circle
Of love and light
Forever fascinated
I give you every doubt
I give you every fear
I watch the sunrise
In your eyes
On the horizon
Of each iris
However it is
That you love me
I am your fortunate child
When I feel your fire rise inside
When I feel your rain wash over me
I am baptized in your light
You make me want to fight
For a deeper meaning
You make me crave the desire to make sense
With every mistake I make
In everything and every moment spent
With every breath I take
In me you create
A strength that could
Carry the sun
You are the
One
You are my skyline
The boundary line
Between earth and sky
My apparent horizon
You are the outline
Of my life
You are the building
Of my dreams
Against the twilight
You are the opening
You are the frame
You greet me in the morning and
You tuck me in at night
My lovelight
You are my reason to go on
You are my favorite birdsong
You are my Mother and my Father Divine
You are the thunder and the hope of everyone
My templeheart
My firestone
My endless drink
My only home
Teach in me
What you would have me do
Give me direction
And I will follow through
For me, for you and the
Entire universe
You are my Skyline
You are the truth
You are the opening
I love you
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
U have the Eyes, of the Stars
and your Lips, are crucial as Air.
U have warmth of the Sun and Mars,
and your Heart is valuable and Rare.
I Wish to Write a Poem on your skin
and illustrate every word I write for U.
Sail My fingertips on your gentle Curves
and trace them on the Heart I Drew.
If the Morning Sun forgets to rise,
U will be lighting up My Skies.
It’s both Beautiful and Tragic.
When I'm with U, how fast time Flies.
My Passions are coursing in My Veins.
As sweat appears on your Skin.
Heaven has opened it's Doors for Me,
So Darling......Please let Me In.
Jun 29, 2023
Jun 29, 2023 at 6:23 AM UTC
Don’t put me in a box, I am my own teacher
I don’t worship TV idols, I have other preachers
I don't toss a poem to come across as known
friends crossed me, don’t know my own home
I don't speak for an arrogant cause
Or do self-righteous acts just to merit applause
I don’t make scenes to be seen as a person of God
What you see as a skill, I see as a character flaw
I don't use a hype man sell grams to buy fans
I don't scream to get attention other ways for lungs to expand
I don't ********** my talent for people that bystand
Or try to trick innocent people more desperate than I am
Sell a line, sell a book
Sell a dream, sell a scheme
Sell a brother false hope you control his self-esteem
Let a brother talk **** I won’t get mad at all
I’ll just throw a couple stabs like my cousin at the mall
So please tell me what’s worse
being broke or broken?
but before you answer that let me ask you this first
In the place you live, can you quench your thirst?
Do you have enough time to finish a verse?
Remember our time here was borrowed, can’t reimburse
Parasitic
a chemic I been it
I pen it, I penetrate my a pen all day
To descend and mate
My inner state is in the state
to keep on straight,
administrate and illustrate
What people haul with haste till it's in his face
So in the case where i’m in my space
my focus is to chase
Yeshua’s face is faced with the waste of people sending hate
Intimidating to people claiming contention
ostensibly incoherent was air for my ascension
It's plucking a hair ain't it?
who painted the P.I.C cell
in pixels, the pig sells
the witch who picks spells, got hell
Tie a boar to a tree transmitting this
free him a year later he'll stay in the same radius
Maybe it's in the tears
Maybe it's just kinetics
Maybe I do love attention
and writing is how I get it
encapsulated beneath the surface the desire is unknown
You think this a joke
Get shot in your funny bone!
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:41 AM UTC
If my blood could illustrate,
A picture to the world,
It will tell you the exact state,
How my heart pumps its hurt.
Each ventricle pumps emotions,
Pain, anger, hope,
Up to my brain,
And down to my toes.
Slithering through each artery and vein,
Blood carves my hearts pain,
In my head,
In my head.
Working through each capillary,
It forges anger and rage,
In my bones,
My aching bones.
After its done its work,
It fights back through each valve,
And pours back into the atriums,
Devoid of fury and pain.
It was used up,
Just like my tears,
My wasted energy for nothing,
It brought me no good.
Just more hurt.
And just slowly,
As the pain and anger dissipates from my system,
And fresh blood is packaged and sent,
From my bone marrows,
It brings along a slimmer of hope,
That this new cycle of blood would carry no more pain.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC
If you can speak your mind
Without a tone of thought towards the things you say,
If you can beat people with words
And blame them for the wrongs you display,
If you can understand what the hurt see
And turn a blind eye,
If you can imagine the wars that have been fought because of you
No would be left to illustrate the catastrophe,
If you can make people love you
Then cast out the people who state their opinion,
If you can openly criticize people
Then threaten the people, who try to fix the wrong done towards you,
If you can proclaim your life’s path as the way to follow
And then judge for any form of rebellion,
If you can finally wave the white flag
Will you finally accept the war reparations that are overdue,
The people’s heart is yours and that’s in it
Because you’ll be the face for the abusers,
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
I wish, most of all, to have had a tangibly physical notebook to write all this in. instead I use the 'note' function of my smartphone, smoke a cigarette. busy on forward, it's Pandora.
one of those acid-high coffee overbouts, feeling the brain compress inside the skull. for an hour. for a few.
some man in tattered-all's gets angry when I state I have no quarter. like I'm lying when I say it, and must be lying because my pants aren't worn like his. bus and car alike ghost past, the monastic rise of the local music conservatory pokes at the skyline, straight at the overcast.
I toss "If on a winter's night" by Italo Calvino atop the third step of the church stairs leading to the church doors, the Seventh Day Adventist Church, Where we meet Jesus. I begin to write this poem, huddled atop my cellphone as if I were in silent debate with a lover, only sitting to make a point.
to the left is a McDonald's flying a McDonald's flag. A man with a thoughtless white ball-cap and a thoughtful tattoo walks past with a McDonald's dollar drink in his right hand, pointing his arms in opposite directions to illustrate the dimensions of something he wants. "See?" he says to the woman he walks with, her face scabbed over with acne scars.
my eyes are tunnel-visioned to the screen every time I follow a thought, or the glancing past of a passer-by like the woman with the black scarf, black hair, black sweater, grey pants, black shoes.
the orange 'don't walk' sign pulses 7 times, and then sticks, as if waiting for a high-five.
I reach into my backpack for a cigarette.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
My years in my write
Inspiring words that would often excite
It was my inner spirit looking down on the shore
But it was Heaven who called who wanted me to explore
My acquired wisdom I did achieve
My worth of knowledge I want you to receive
God asked me to tell the story of my life
Dr. Angelou answered, “I really need to think twice”
God’s response, “You are in Heaven with plenty of glorified inspiring advice”
Now back track your life in a write
Then I will ask you to recite
Your words on earth brought soothing thoughts of galore
It was almost like the vision of waves hitting the shore
But with a mission to push on
Heaven wants me to write and this is where I belong
Remember my words and what they illustrate
Think on my theory in being involved in movement of participate
My words being powerful in every tense
But I leave you not to be in suspense
It was my persuasion in how I convinced
Now I will be writing in the spirit
My defined encouragement devoted to merit
Pretend you are writing sitting on the shore
Contrasting on a sunset that can’t be ignored
I have given you assurance
Now use my wisdom as your influence
I depart from you now
I know my previous teachings will continue to show you how
I will be gone for quite awhile
Remember me in my smile and my inspiration style.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
tizz is an uncle, bro and dem richez
i was born viciouz, but always had visionz
a young boy used to build bridgez
between black and white, peace and fight
dreamy adolescence, i spit out whole heavenz
wit my divine essence, all dem "lyricis" be jealouz
but dey just "so called", cause dey so old
tizz grew cold, so not any of dem amateurs won't grow old
i'm so cold, i freeze, **** and stay, then i eaze among dem geez
we live in codez like secret service, dealin' wit burnaz
quick learnaz, sick and sane, our skin is thick,
we don't feel pain, black lion's mane, heaven yeah
no expression can illustrate tizzopish aggression
pay attention! watch out for dat other direction
receive my blessin', kneein' between me and the destined
it's battle rappin', it's slappin' againzt all of ya actin'
friendship versuz rush, some peepz start to blush
when you remind them of valuez, like some bad newz
i'm the man whose bad moodz be legendary, like a legionary
dealin' wit whatz necessary, cause i was born predatory
find tizz shinin' in the mornin' glory and rhymin' a story
readin' diz is mandatory, just anotha category,
stolen from the laboratory, **** am i now swollen,
and all-in like all-night, alright, feed em just a small bite
Nov 7, 2020
Nov 7, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC
I’m playing with
the little globe
at my writing desk.
I let it spin
and spin
and spin
and...
I pause.
I suddenly feel too
small.
How many places
have not been discovered
yet?
How many lands?
I keep telling myself
how pointless and
worthless my existence
must be
in a universe
like this.
In the silence,
the beating of my heart
can almost exceed
the noise of my thoughts.
Each pulse is stronger
than ever.
We are told that
the heart is the same
size as the fist.
My hands are not that
big and so
neither is my heart.
I keep forgetting
its value, though.
Isn’t the heart also
an undiscovered land?
Sure, the doctors
could tell me all
its functions one by one.
They could illustrate me
its structure to a tee.
But they don’t know
the reasons why a heart
keeps beating even
when it’s tired.
Or why it doesn’t break
when it cracks.
Tell me about the way it
loves me even when I don’t,
even when I’ve hurt it.
I want to know why
it doesn’t explode
when it is so full of passion.
Isn’t it grand?
Isn’t this enough?
I am the universe.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC
They put me on a high pedestal
Took away away my mischief
There was no to begin with
They obliterated the chance
I first realised when I turned 14
Was writing last year's memoir
Had no adventure to illustrate
Had no idea of rebellion
I thought and contemplated
For a long long time
What the reason was
Turns out it was me
Me the *****
Me the image conscious
Me the people pleaser
Me the rational.
I envied the free spirited
I yearned their charisma
I wanted to be them
Rebellious and loud
Fair to say
It didn't work out
I was myself
And I'm content.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words shatter my soul
Like a thin sheet of glass
In a fragile windowpane
Faced against the icy, piercing,
Wailing winter winds.
Fractures and bruises heal,
Barely leaving a mark,
But a shattered soul-
It remembers each and every
Crack, break, chip,
Often leaving pieces behind that
The jealous, thieving wind stole in hopes
Of making parts of the beautiful glass its own.
Fear not! For the very thing that destroyed
Can also mend the glass,
Molding, sealing the mess back together
Until a new, stronger, more beautiful
Picture forms to illustrate the story
Of the stained glass soul.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
All my life
I was allowed to appreciate the world around me
But lacked the means to express how
I could speak of the fluttering of a starling’s wings
Lifting into the majesty of the sky
By stirring the air
But you would not understand
The loneliness they stir in me
I could describe the stature of the far-off mountain
The snow-ridden summit stark white
Vehement in its unyielding presence
But you would not see
The spark of vehemence I feel in its wake
I could illustrate the way the sun sinks behind the hills
Staining the clouds orange and pink
Causing a blanket of soft light to awaken the earth
But you would not recognize
The nostalgia it awakens in my tired soul
I could narrate your mannerisms with clarity
The gentle smiles and nervous fidgeting
Shyly nodding in mild acquiescence
But you would not notice
The utter joy that holds me under its sway
As you lull my heart with your words
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
High soaring above the Raven glides
What do you see with your eyes?
A bird? A black bird?
What to you hear? A caw? A song?
What if we are in a dome?
The Raven looking down
What does the Raven see?
You? Me?
What colour are we?
The Raven is a paradox
If he sees us and we see him
Both observing that neither of us are black, nor Ravens
Increases our belief that the Raven is black
Unrelated observations under the dome
Supposition, inductive logic, intuition
Illustrate ours and the Raven's deductive logic.
Our logic is the same.
The Raven soars on
We remain.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC