"incorporates" poems
The lonely notes flowing, falling, leap from
The thin and flitting fingers of the pianist,
The cup of melancholy, drained to the
dregs, bittersweet in that the love of happiness
and joy is tempered now, from longing for the
delicate and pensive feel, that comes from dipping into
the small and lonely pool of melancholy. Grief, a distant
specter, hovering in the fringe of chance, is nearer now,
melancholy, the doorway, slides open on silent hinges,
and admits the crushing tide. High, high, and faster still,
the pianist falls, slowly down and up again, grief, the storm,
disrupts the flow of sound and silence, and incorporates itself
into the threading melody, and so erodes the shores of joy and laughter,
the violet waves of gentle melancholy, laced with the thinnest threads of
blackest grief, sighing on, erasing so, youth and joy and light and life.
The melody falters, stills. The pianist alone, playing for an empty quiet,
rises, pauses, his fingers brushing, the cold steel of empty death, smooth beneath his touch. He grasps it, lifts it to face him, hands steady, gaze unfaltering. The man is still, pianists fingers gripping that instrument of death, and time passes, unheeded, ignored. In a motion refined to elegance by the passage of time and repetition, the pianist places that cold instrument of steel and intent gently, down upon the polished black. He straitens, slowly, and settling his black overcoat close around him, he turns, walks quietly to a closed and silent door, lifts the latch, and into a swirling night of snow and light, walks out, and closes the door behind him with a soft and quiet click. And all is silent.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
pretty words for pretty girls
*courageous caress of a send key pressed,
after practicing
speechless up to the assumed,
up to assured point of perfect,
flawlessness, visible in each invisible breath,
pauses full of poignant stories unspoken
but eye cleared visible for seeing the future*
pretty words for pretty girls
*intuition incorporates superstition,
unending, intending infatuated moon gazing,
but not pagan worshiping, no it is love worshiping
your hiding cave places are moon apertures dark spots,
impenetrable to my eye’s naked telescoping,
but heartbeats spring my unharnessed love poems to you
me and millions whisper in full certainty of our
lost but beloved presences, moon stored for us,
my darling dares the light shine upon my bay,
here to me, our path, a moonlight waving hand
provides on many nights, a clear direction to follow,
pseudo-thrills of continence that my vision uncovers,
but my body knows is but a poor substitute*
pretty words for pretty girls
*my disease has a diagnosis.
your body attacked,
your body reacts,
defeats the infector,
remembering the next time
that disease comes round
how it got beat prior
and how to do it again*
so how come I’m falling love once more?*
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 5:20 PM UTC
Don't tell me to smile
Exhortations to "cheer up" will be ignored
You don't know how far you're stretching me, do you?
Your head still in the clouds of safety where imbeciles call out to each other
Listen. Listen, do
We're exploring the heaviest things in the world
Too heavy for Sysyphyus to haul
I'm that kid you can kind of see through
The one on the left corner
With the cool bootleg Pink Floyd t shirt wrapping his thin torso
He's got a box of Playboys beneath his nightstand and he's barely 14 years old
He reads and incorporates that garbage into his pre-adolescence behavior
With dreams of visiting Plato's
Retreat
Picking up some bunnies using some of the better Party Jokes
His expertise at 'lingus and 'latio are as well perfected as can be without having actually performed them
But he could sure bust out the ******* Philosophy and would have held his own with the old geezer who wrote it
But he was only 14 and nobody seemed impressed with the amount of ******* culture he'd consumed
They weren't letting him in the cluuuub
Your ****** right he didn't feel like smiling
But he wasn't bored
And he didn't feel too serious
He'd let it slide this time
*to be continued
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
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Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
Rancorous, lethargic, avaricious, psychotic,
Enthusiastic, mystified, serene
Does a planet?
A galaxy?
A multiverse incorporates
Secrecy, security, nine or more parallel universes
Eyes are awake
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
For the past nine or so years,
he weaves a blanket. Night after night,
he incorporates thread after thread
of caresses and warm words. For the
blanket's purpose is to dispel all
forms of darkness, real and imagined,
to combat the mosters under the bed
and inside one's head, to imitate
a canopy of stars.
Night after night, he hands me the
unfinished blanket. It is soft and
warm. And though I still sleep with
the light on, the blanket is enough
to remind me that the ticking of the
clock is sometimes similar to the
beating of two hearts.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC
While we are all just atom snowmen,
sometimes I have to be
the arsonist of your emotions.
To make the atomic bits, flick out, vibrate
in order to light this ether atmosphere,
see what you really are,
to give me that warm feeling inside.
Sometimes I have to be
the stone that breaks your window.
The irreversible souring your view,
of your perfect, affectionate, color.
I take a breath of your summer field
and forests and farms
and exhale it as winter, deadwood and cold air,
your horses all un-made,
into glue, cat food, and violin bows.
Sometimes I have to be
A spiked cocktail.
Sipped on in words
finding again better, that familiar sweetness
but finding yourself, not yourself, anymore.
All just because you left your love wanting
alone on the side of a bar
and I found it.
Sometimes I have to be
that step you don’t expect at night.
Of course I’ll act like an accident,
letting the idea slip through
a gas leak flooding the room
silently, imperceptibly, changing things,
I’m good enough you will never know it,
and it’s you who’ll spark it.
Sometimes I have to be
father of the utilized disease.
A cough gives it birth,
a bark and a hack makes it airborne
incorporates a bacteria culture into yours.
This DNA affixed of word nucleotides,
embedded in the head of a virus
which will, just sometimes, exponentially, continually,
manipulate.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
He has given a luxurious twist to the dying art of weaving and popularised the use of Khadi. Award-winning textile designer Gaurang Shah is more than happy that the Indian fashion industry has welcomed handlooms. “As a textile designer, I would like to say the Indian fashion industry has embraced handlooms with lot of admiration and helped revive our ancient traditions of weaving art, like the jamdani weaves, that we use in creating our fashion pieces,” Shah told IANS.
“It also reinforced its unparalleled beauty around the world,” he added. The designer says that one must acknowledge the passion and intense amount of production hours every weaver at the looms puts to bring out timeless pieces of handlooms.
“The fashion industry did contribute to bring them back into vogue in recent years,” he said. Shah showcased his latest collection of 40 garments titled Muslin at Lakme’s Fashion Week Summer/Resort 2017. His anthology for the gala was inspired by romance of nature.
Giving details about his range, he said: “Our collection incorporates weaves and techniques from West Bengal, Andhra Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. The amazing all-in-whites collections integrate gorgeous Mughal motifs and geometric patterns on Khadi, chikankari embroidery and Parsi gara.”
The designer’s collection involved 50 weavers working relentlessly for over six months. Shah, whose handloom creation made its way to the 69th Cannes Film Festival when Deepshikha Deshmukh, producer of Aishwarya Rai Bachchan starrer “Sarbjit”, stepped out in an ensemble featuring Paithani and Kanjeevaram details, says that handlooms are a glorious heritage of India and it is important to preserve and help the artists’ community grow.
“I would like to add that a few years ago this beautiful art was fading away. Thanks to persistent effort and motivation from label like ours, followed by the efforts of our Prime Minister Narendra Modi, that pushed Indian handlooms to higher level of acceptance,” he said.
Shah began his journey in the textile world with just two weavers and today the label works with 700 weavers, and the number is still growing.
“The biggest contribution we as a designer can make is to keep our artisans motivated and also help them gain confidence that it is a highly profitable profession,” said the designer, who has styled the stars like Vidya Balan, Sonam Kapoor and Kirron Kher.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 10:00 PM UTC
she persists in using other writers material
and incorporates it in her own compositions
she is sailing very close to the wind
as she doesn't request the copyright owner's permission
the day will come when she'll find herself in court
for copyright infringement
all states in America have laws regarding
this kind of impingement
just to-day she posted another work
passing it off as her own intellectual property
but there were lines and titles
which had been in hit songs of wide popularity
to date she has published on the internet
over a dozen of these compositions
and it will not be long in coming before the copyright owners
put her in the right legal position
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
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Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC
THE STORM
frees the "elemental man"
from the complexity
that merely impersonates
the seed planted
in fertile soil
the seemingly impenetrable prison
he has put himself in
which collapse as
true consciousness is shown
one that incorporates
all the rest
with a nurturing breasted vision
of eternal love
a love that permeates
all who strive
to make clear
a MANKIND growing unto a
"YOU & I"
and
by grace
is
finally seen
THE STORM
sets the warriors free
to find eachother
MAN TO MAN
able to STORM
the prisons and tear them down
and thus reveal
the real world
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
Earth's mistress moon and glorious master sun,
from whither is it that they both have come?
Hovering around in the sky during night and day,
how is it that they both have been placed that way?
Playing it seems opposite roles to our mind's eye,
yet shedding light and warmth down from up high.
One is the mere reflection and also shade of the other,
relaying light in degrees for the days of month to cover.
Then disappearing briefly at the end of this cycle
only to appear again looking no more than a trifle.
The moon revolves around the earth
which itself revolves around the sun,
But what does the sun revolve around?
All the heavenly bodies indicate movement and rotation,
this is common knowledge and is based on observation.
There is a cycle that resembles the four seasons of the year
made up of four different ages lasting thousands of years.
Each has an effect on the state and evolution of man's mind,
moving from light to darkness and then back again over time.
Modern science will eventually prove all this one day,
as it gradually moves from darkness to light on its way.
If man's mind is stooped in ignorance and cannot discern the light,
modern science itself is at a standstill; progress is groping for sight.
The four ages are those of Light, Thought, Energy and Matter.
Each one preceeds the other and are all contained in one cycle,
which lasts for about twenty-four thousand of our earth years.
As the sun also revolves around on its orbit in space
it comes closer at times to its orbital centre in place.
This movement resembles a giant ascending and descending arc
in which all the four ages mentioned alternate from light to dark.
Each arc has a lifespan of approximately twelve thousand years
and each arc incorporates the four ages comprising this sphere.
At opposite ends of the sphere the first and last ages are twice their length
moving each from minimum to maximum effect and back again in strength.
Those ages in between have each their duration which should be noted too
playing their roles in this cyclic transition affecting everyone including you.
As each cycle is completed, passing through these four ages,
man's consciousness and history undergo dramatic changes;
one has only to reflect on the rise and fall of past civilisations.
We have just come through a short transitional phase from a long dark age of matter
and are now on the ascending arc early in the electrical age also called that of energy.
___________________________________
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 4:50 PM UTC
I cannot get you
out of my mind.
You course through my veins
and I slice them to bleed you out, yet,
I can never cut deep enough
to rid my cells of you.
What you did to me
stains my brain,
clouds my thoughts,
incorporates flashbacks
into my everyday life.
Get over it, get over it,
they scream,
but they cannot begin
to understand.
You are a disease
with no cure,
and you infected every god forsaken inch
of my body.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
(Land that doth marry mother lode
of sublime earthen land and sea).
Age of exploration
ushered cruel fate
against “red” men living
in bliss by agents
patch of eden north
o Mason Dixon line
latitude: 39.64839
longitude: -75.95591 alee
perchance designed
by divine providence
with dyslexic humorous bents
Cecil county Maryland
lies like plump backward letter “e”
witnessed topographic erosion
pocked imprimatur marked
meteorological dents
thru inundation of
oceanographic propensities
melding coastline like Galilee
in particular by Chesapeake Bay,
that body of water
abutting like natural fence
first witnessed by captain
John Smith in 1608
mistaking himself tong tied
in sole of Italy
learned faux pas, when crossing paths
with Susquehannas hence,
offered tobacco sticks to natives
while recovering
from injured wounded knee
said other sundry tribes curiously eyed
then (I utilized poetic license)
took smoke from packet of Kents
which twist on actual
historical facts manipulated by me
but more truthful account awash
and replete with more
than interspersed nonsense
and incorporates tract situated
in so called Fertile Crescent – see
settled by Europeans of English stock,
who emigrated with nary a pence
“taming” shrew like “noble savages”
plied Leviathan sized ukuleles
whose might exploited for felling forests,
which timber built cabins with vents.
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
'though beginnings are always tough,
endings will always be tougher
it's not what she's getting into
but what she's getting out of that makes her suffer
he can offer food and shelter
but what she wants he can't buy
for love is not the center of the world's greatest lie
truth is the key to happiness
when lies are unexplainable
but sometimes truth is a lot like time
and rarely is attainable
and even though she knows
that it's time for her to move on
she'll never get past the fact that
she is only another mute swan
he can't tell her how a peach tastes
because she's never tasted a peach,
but that sweet juice that she longs for
is never too far out of reach
and though she marches to her own beat
at the end of the day
she still incorporates the beat of
anything that comes her way
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 1:53 PM UTC
**** a man
kill.....his idea
the ideal dies
------
who are we?
----------------
tea baggers?
liberals?
what utter crap!!!!!!!!!!
--------
are you a dead man?
-----
well...
ARE YOU????
------
the children stagger along
unknown streets
and sleep in poison alleyways
as the spirit
"incorporates" itself
into frozen death-like greed
-----
****
----
to live!!!!!
---
or
LIVE
to love
the streets and alleys
where the children dwell
Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 9:29 AM UTC
in the back seat of a car
the headphones in the higher volume, the sound spreads
in the back seat of a car
with it's secrets veiled by it's mouth
only when it's useful
it is had with attention
but in indifference times
disappears in the darkness
passing the crossroad
a master and it's disciples
the mists surrounds it
and make it invisible
the bell rings
the sparrow sings
the cigarette burns
the blade cuts
with it's friends
it walks
but the loneliness
surrounds it
into the night
a cry of pleasure fills it
a nervous laugh
followed by the kiss of love
a punch that makes it bleed
the Patriot gives it
it's clothes in the street
and freedom around the corner
the wind whisper
the owl sings
the candles on
the moon shines
in the woods appears
smiling, hysterical, naked
dancing in endless spirals
with it's invisible beings around
in a black and white world, ruled
a being with colored eyes
breaking boundaries and walls
the arcana 0 incorporates
in the back seat of a car
the headphones in the higher volume, the sound spreads
imagining the perfect perfection
in a place of pain and prejudice
the pen between it's fingers dance
a silent music
the poem of it's pale owner
the paper reveals secretly
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
my daily routine incorporates morphing thoughts i seem to shed,
constantly struggling with anxiety over future plans.
mornings are the only time i can actually be inside my head,
my ears are comforted by the silence and i know where i stand.
~
as the day soon arrives i over-analyze my surrounding space,
my mind gasps for breath, my body tenses & my soul diminishes light.
coming into the "real world" makes me feel like i'm last in a race,
everyone in front is so eager to age that their actions block my sight.
~
i feel like a lost spirit in this society because i just want to feel alive,
if conforming is the only way to be successful, why would i even strive?
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
she persists in using
other writer's material
and incorporates it into
her own compositions
she is sailing very close
to the wind
as she doesn't request
the copyright owner's permission
the day will come
when she'll find herself in court
for copyright infringement
every state in America
has laws regarding
this kind of impingement
just to-day she posted
another of her works
passing it off as her
own intellectual property
but there were many lines in it
which had previously appeared
in hit songs of popularity
to date she has published
on the internet
over a dozen
of these compositions
and it will not be long in coming
before the copyright owners
put her in the right legal position
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:30 AM UTC
Beginners. The part in Beginners where Georgia takes young Oliver to the art museum and playfully tilts her body to mimic the juxtaposed metal frame installation. Or when on one of their drives in their 1982 Mercedes-Benz 300 D Turbo Diesel, Georgia tells young Oliver "You point, I'll drive," so Oliver knee-jerkily points his finger to the direction opposite of where they are driving, and Georgia calmly steers the car out of control without any bit of hesitation. The fact that Oliver keeps the "You point, I'll drive" tradition alive with Anna years after Georgia's passing, but never explains or even mentions to Anna the backstory and significance behind these words, it's just something he casually incorporates in his counted moments with her, which conveys through indirect verbalization just how much she means to him.
Oh, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Don't even get me started with Joel and Clementine, and all their heart-wrenching, perfect one-liners and phrases.
"I'm Clementine. Can I... borrow a piece of your chicken?"
"And then you just took it... without waiting for an answer. It was so intimate; like we were already lovers."
And,
"I could die right now, Clem. I'm just...happy. I'm exactly where I wanna be." All the right words, in the right sequence, with precise pause and emphasis.
Or,
"I'm a little out of sorts today." A line I secretly quote and have casually adapted into my every day utterances.
And of course the infamous Tangerine and Joely Sequence;
"You're pretty, you're pretty. You're pretty... you're pretty... pretty.."
Both of these movies mean so much to me. These are the kind of things I would tell you. These are the kind of things that would mean something to you, that would lead you to finding some bit of magic in me, and maybe even make you fall in love. But you've never asked, and you don't, and you won't. Still, I wish that you would ask.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 5:03 AM UTC
Feelin' like I don't belong in the tree
Even though I helped plant the seed
I don't want a million green leafs
Thats not what I need
Cross kingdom traffic has me secluded
I'd fly over the canopy just to be included,
Again
I've always nourished the growth of the tree
And I still do even though it no longer incorporates me
For oxygen is need in an environment thats choking,
Depleted
But trees don't live forever
And the birds that live in that tree don't always flock together
It's winter, time to follow the good weather,
Alone
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
I close my eyes
But the reality haunts my dreams.
I open my eyes
But it is the reality that dissipates before me.
Eyes open, Eyes closed.
When reality and fantasy merge
What can I believe?
What incorporates my dreams and fears to the realistic being?
Must I live my life turning, spinning
With eyes converging?
My eyes are open
My eyes are closed.
My mind and body dwell in different beings.
Don't turn away from me as you burn my hollow essence.
I live by bleak confusion.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
O, how the world's edges meet,
Living waters caressing the land.
To touch it, hand to sand, life to life,
To have its granules mold to my flesh...
I am part of this landscape, it contains me.
Even so... (I sigh)...
I know what it is like to be so fragile.
The ocean's power overcomes my little hand
And washes my molded print away,
My identity is taken out to sea (and beyond),
But...I am not lost, I am not alone.
The forever ebb and flow incorporates ME.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC