"indisputably" poems
can anyone tell me
why East and West are fighting?
in an indisputably Round world
going West far enough
will put you in the East
and vice versa
in a round view of things
people of the east
need the same things
as people of the west
and what about the middle people?
what do they need?
roundly the same I'd say
so roundly I also say
otherness is to be avoided
otherness to be voided
replaced by roundness
roundness is to be embraced
all around the world
so I'll start
and put my arms around you
like a circle around the sun
for I am
as round as you
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
This cosmos, indisputably, a sheer wonder
We cannot but bow before its grandeur
To what strange terrains opens its doors
And what secrets, hidden beneath the stars
From the merciless emptiness sans light,
From the deep silence of the horrendous night,
Was heard the bang of hammers
On the anvils of eons like thundering fire crackers
Abruptly through a gas cloud burst of inexorable force
Life emerged from stardust, our energy source
This is what the exponents of Big Bang assert
Life, from cosmic egg was hatched, some others purport
No doubt, this universe is an infinite stretch of lattice
Woven in the loom through billions of years by gratis
Where myriad wonders exist in the intergalactic space
And man has been on relentless effort to trace their course
As the wheels turned and as the fires burned
Through cosmic vapor the first atom was churned
How, over the eons, life here has flourished
With man’s wisdom and efforts nourished!
Galaxies are scattered in infinite space
And our planet Earth is well balanced in place
After the day’s vigil, when the mighty sun sets
The stars invariably take over on their night shifts
Multitudinous stars glitter and twinkle, a wondrous sight
As branching chandeliers, shedding luminous light
They are gems donning the night sky with their splendor
Where meteors dash and star light dances in nebulous glare
Some extra terrestrial hand has set the Earth in tune
And everything needed to hold life is benevolently strewn
Through countless dawns and sunset
Endless generations did come and beget
Just as this universe was born, it would one day die
With all the planets, stars and starlets of the sky
Who can predict how it is going to end
With a bang or whimper, or is the end impend?
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
deep in the night,
tranquility never looked more beautiful.
with the sea calm and unwavering,
the wind that seems to be singing;
you are the calming light.
deep in the night,
chaos never looked more beautiful.
to the waves playing push and pull,
and the merciless wind that's resounding;
you in the midst, indisputably astounding.
deep in the night,
and everything in between,
the waves that crashes with its might,
and the wind faintly in tune,
in contrast to the chaos and the serene;
you are still here, my moon.
—a.c.
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 5:14 AM UTC
There is a great glow on Jesus’ face
He was born to rescue the entire human race
Blessed are the people who believe in Christ
He is undoubtedly the divine priest
Him we should continuously pray
And keep the Satan at bay
If we don’t love our fellow human
We will never reach heaven
We should do our duty
The holy Bible exhorts us to take pity
Jerusalem is the Jesus’ birth city
Mother Mary has great piety
Jesus blossomed in the west
His teachings are the best
Our life on earth is a myth
Man forgets this eternal truth
Man incessantly hankers after riches
Doesn’t hesitate to delve deep into ditches
He tells spurious lies
And falls an easy prey to vice
He forgets the purpose of his life
And lives in perpetual strife
Jealousy and hatred are real hell
Only good things we should tell
We should never spread horror or terror
It is an inexcusable error
We should not fight for religion
Man should be peaceful in every region
God is indisputably one
Fighting for Him is real sin
We should be ready for the Doomsday
Christianity shows us the right way
The Bible leads us to the holy path
I think we will have the purification bath
We should get ready for the Sabbath
Jesus will give us his holy cloth
Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 6:04 AM UTC
Vibrant yellow back
Defiant black streaks
Deceptively cute
Solid almost artificial blue unlike the sky or ocean
Speckled with the night
Assuming an artificial rainbow
Small eyes that radiate innocence
And an equally built body
Your diet is of alkaloids
Psychotropic substances
You use them to protect yourself
Psychedelics have brought you questions you'd rather not answer
I've indulged in the natural poisons
I can see beauty in harm, purpose, necessity
But if I let you be, I know you're no danger to me
Though, I'm a little too late
You're delicate and I am clumsy
You've warned me not to get to close, I’m bound to get hurt
I yield to what yearns to cradle your amphibious nature,
so unique to a monochrome world
Physicality is your weapon
An open wound lets your corrosive membrane transfuse my blood
You flood me
And oh, I moan. Action potential discharged, the sensory impulses to my brain.
You stop feeling slippery in my hand as I begin to rust
Little one, you escape my hands
But I am paralyzed
Thickened blood, what went so wrong
Tender in touch, I didn't hurt you
But your defensive, corrosive skin reflected your inner malintent
Black mamba venom indisputably pierces the skin
Harsh betrayal of curious wonder
Black widow toxin, an unblunted destruction of the dermis
But you came in celebrated color
How am I to trust visual credibility of sinlessness
You're a poison dart frog
When the beauty that once enticed me
Has hardened the sanguine essence that filled me with vitality and awe
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC
"Let us rebuild, so that,
we may be no
longer a reproach",… it is just
business/ Nehemiah spake
put this on your business card
directly, in spirit, to David
Barton, inspirational director,
for many a proud warrior for truth.
Jesus lives, we rise, we agree, in me.
Where lay the Kingdom of God, back then,
when he is recorded as having said,
I will, my will being done, abide
side any who hear the knock,
as an innocent, or a lying, cheating scoundrel,
that's the good news, war has never worked,
peacemaking all ways works, one on one.
Honed most point, tip to tip... touch
spirit face to spirit face
messenger to message, dare we say
in the presence of at least as many as
have testified to seeing grave dwellers walking,
most certainly there was darkness, and that curtain,
between the holiest of holies, and every day sanctity,
ripped… rippity re-occurence right down the middle,
opening all reality
to the Wizard
of Oz's most esoteric
special effect
on the ensuing Easter audiences, seeing
it, over and over, until the metaphor, the riddle becomes
dabar, a very humble word translated many ways, see::
Pens with motors are more powerful than swords,
of any sort… logos significant cannot loose dabar yah, we
in this form minding manners men agree to abide beneath,
but
but
but
on good advice,
from bar mitzvahed friends, dead and living,
the use of labor, during interesting times, as mobs
to make unified mind form encase believers in
situations indisputably dangerous, used right
by godfearing law enforcement officers, right
used by a leader exactly, to the hairs on his head,
like the guy on television who crashed all those casinos.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 2:56 PM UTC
TSUNAMI
When the sea stood up
there was no malevolence in it
only certainty
it was not distracted
from its singleminded purpose
it rolled toward the land
inexorable
heedless of walls
the feeble defences erected(intended) to stop it
unmoved by the screams of people
the groaning and smashing of timbers
cars becoming boats and floating
making a mockery of roads
it swept across fields
into towns
up streets
through buildings-picked some up
onward
its speed never varied
it was stopped only
where the land rose sharply
becoming hills
but it was not a victory for the land
the sea had won
indisputably
and was content then
to swirl about and mock the toes of the hills
when it retreated
it took souvenirs
islands of debris
the roofs of houses
would float far off shore
for weeks
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 10:49 AM UTC
How exactly does one find themselves in said situation
you didn't say anything about the situation yet
in description,
indisputably
incredible
incredible?
Not in any sense of tradition
Not in any sense that could bring sparkle and innocence to the surface of a child's eyes
Not in any sense immediately apparent to the unobservant man
*cut to it ********
Clouds run think in the room
and with ink head to toe
and horns
and swazzies
and clantag black across the chest
and yellowed smokers teeth
golden oils burst hot in desperate lungs.
Relief.
Relief is what they name her
as her remnants drift from grateful mouths
as pale white and soulful as snow in reverse.
What's going on then?
They play a game.
They call it twenty five for missed medicine.
They say if the bell breathes smoke
on calls break the weak,
They hackle happily in a giggling choke.
But I could never participate in these things.
Is it a lack of courage, an overabundance of cowardice?
Its a lack of many things:
lacking history
or will
or wisdom
or faith
or a gut cold and steely enough to handle regurgitation
of my own lungs.
Not many do handle.
As is seen,
when a queen splatters palaces
with spigukums
liquid lowered expectations
only now could they take her seriously.
Do you?
I knew that fate from the start
and that's why I depart
to a cold blue board box
Roll, lick, pack, and light
delight
then again;
Who's to say I didn't enjoy it just as much as they did?
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
I woke up on a bed of moss
Spongey and warm beneath my back
Somewhere in my there is a sense of loss
A filling feeling sense of purpose, though, I do not lack
The air is heavy and weighs into my skin
The sky is low and sets my body ablaze
My blood is tight and filled with endorphin
It's a happy sickness, some sort of daze
Indigo firs crowd around me like I'm some sort of spectacle
Under tones of sepia and filters of light
Radiation of something pure, something spectral
The brown grass whispers to me in a form of delight
Warm fog rolls a billowing into my clearing
An aura of invitation, clean and mystic
It hinders my sight and usurps my hearing
And I know what lies beyond is likely cryptic
Walking through it, I am instantly transported
This mountain forest edges an empty sandy expanse
But something's not right and the distance is distorted
Floating geometric megaliths in a freakish kind of trance
Spirits of wander wisp past me in heavenly sound
Under an eclipsed sun, halway dark and halfway bright
A white wolf trots behind me, it's toes twinkling on the ground
Feathery wind tunnels vent me to move forward this night
In this place, though I am alone
It feels like I am indisputably at home
Even though not even a day has gone
It feels like I've been here for an eon
I could spend an eternity in this place
Purpose and meaning and time and space
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Good morning.
Welcome to this holistic Universe
of pumpkin spice lattes
with "organic" soy milk.
In this indisputably beautiful
multiplication homogeneous
to unidentified living growth,
we spawn the dawning
of a new era with our own
Purple Prose.
It's neither here, nor there.
Take a step back.
Notice It.
Smell the ripe air with both
Sweat & Smoke.
We reciprocate our feelings
Of
u n s u r e n e s s
With a firm handshake
And an
avoiding eye.
Here, we have fabricated
the abundance! of our Knowledge,
while We can't figure it out.
Are We real at all?
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
and we were looking out forever in
opposite directions but there
was nothing behind what we
could see when we turned around.
and what else could tenderness be if not
revealing what you've kept
hidden even
from yourself?
defiance, maybe. resistance against a time
such as ours, for a time coming, if it's coming,
not so callous, our hearts, if they dared
at the edges of nowhere.
of your love nothing is known
but the event happened
therefore you exist.
indisputably.
between a name and
nothing at all.
if you insist, if you can.
you must resist
all the world's temptation to
yield
for the hazard of
something singular.
of your love nothing is known
as it is with all
processes of truth-becoming
traversing
eternity
and back again, in a flash.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
A brain chemically imbalanced.
How could taking two little white pills every morning
slowly but surely resolve eight years of major depression
ameliorate symptoms that strangle the mind and spirit,
destroying self-worth, competency, basic functionality.
Despite a set-back of a month of unstable, barely restrained
suicidal thoughts, whole-heartedly consuming every minute
of conscious thought and shattering already severely fragmented
sleep, the only repose from the onslaught of endless thoughts
each one affirming deservance and supplying means to an end.
The vile depression, mind-warping, heart-marring, shape-shifting,
perspective-rearranging, adapting to every new environment,
clawing its nightmare-grip further into my chest day after day,
haunting me even in its remission: the depression was sinister.
Body and brain scarred and healing, starved synapses react,
a regiment of medicine, taxing-thought, and long-scarce love,
but indisputably vital: taking two little white pills every morning
slowly but surely resolves eight years of major depression.
A brain chemically balanced.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 4:17 PM UTC
He peeled away time, like dead skin on fingertips
An irritant needing of disposal like all wasted things
Each layer increasingly painful to touch, but demanding an attention too strong to protest
Not knowing what exactly lies at the end, but tightly grasping the edges of his mind’s ferry as it lurched deeper in
Scraping into the recesses of inferno, past showy flames
Stopping only at the bottom, hitting solid ground, still and cold
A modest ghost land, non-boasting
Completely justified by its own barrenness
Indisputably, the first instance
There he laid himself to rest a while
Coddled in the dirt
A sense of security reminiscent of the womb where it started, back to the beginning
And while lying there, seeking comfort through this fever chill of a journey, looking up he saw it
What it must have been all along
A childhood memory, living only in the mind, but living all the same
A defining moment
Something simple, whose significance couldn’t be challenged, but whose existence was something uncertain
A mystery only partially figured out
But enough to know when to stop
Just a reverie, he reassured himself
And with that piled on each layer again and again until he reached the surface once more
Back to a familiar setting, cool and breathable
Maybe suggestive of a lower level
But probably not.
May 8, 2021
May 8, 2021 at 9:08 PM UTC
A Day Of Thinking or
This Is The Way My Brain May Work On Any Given Day
Breakfast In Bed
No one in this world
Makes thinner toast,
Better toast, winner toast.
You do not boast.
How have you learned to slice
This near-transparent, indisputably crunchy piece of bliss!
What skill! And modest too!
No one can make such toast as you.
Going In To Thank
Going into different segments of the brain
I thank for life in any of the synapses.
Is there a gratitude partition
Or a separate, section - special one?
An all-inclusive?
I don’t always feel it – just today.
It probably will go away.
I hope it leaves a record.
Late Afternoon
Deep, deep inside
I’m feeling tired of society.
It’s like, what I imagine to be
What they call depression.
It’s connected to reality; civilization.
There’s the problem -
It’s not me, it’s them!
I ought to put away the TV (I’ve no phone)
Things electronic, dailies, monthlies,
All things histrionic;
The destructive, scandalous and shocking;
All things not-to-be: illusory.
Noel Coward wrote “World Weary” –
A light, song for something serious.
Perhaps that’s it!
There still exist fall hues phantasmagorical:
Food tastes, sweet music, friends amusing, loyal,
Beauty, animals…and still I feel
Despite the goodness,
Deep, deep sadness at the mess.
A Day Of Thinking 10.28.2016
Circling Round Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
Ego
geographically situate
undilutable
concentrate and
indisputably so
ergo
I am it
that the ego injects
**** Erectus,
comes
with
prospects
alas
no prospectus.
But away from all this I
can blow you a kiss and
leave my ego behind.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
Rain.. everywhere..
Breath like tiny vapors in the air
Just like escaping the arc of sleep
To end up where dreams and pathways meet
And just before I plunge, I leave
to the deepest delusions ever perceived
But so indisputably real
That it makes sense of the way I feel
Floating, median minded reality stretches out
to hinder time and point every heartbeat out
the numb sensation of doubt
until it echoes out loud
mimic the atmosphere of your air
and splashing everywhere,
rain everywhere
-soaking socks-
And dripping hair!
It just keeps pouring at me!
but you are nowhere,
you are not seen,
nor are you heard
you are felt, which is awfully absurd
seeing as all that lives here breathe
the phantom of your memories
it’s like you are behind me
It’s like you are in the trees
It’s like you are the wind
Inside of me…
You are the melody
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Fussily he figures, that’s not good enough for him
Excessively high standards got his best, and then
Contempt for average qualities; things he had abhorred
Became almost everything, as he always needed more
His code of behavior, to one, might seem ideal
Criterion of excellence would show at every meal
Fork, knife and spoon oh-so polished, and set precisely
All a fanciful show, and done so ever nicely
Particular attention to each and every detail
In acquisition of mate, indisputably he’d fail
For who could ever live up to these extreme conventions?
Or be it prissy of me, to mention these intensions?
Mr. Fastidious to some, might seem the status quo
A state in which display, is an always-complex show
Fail not to follow all rules, as they are set to be
Or you might dine alone, a wordy one like me
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
I am small
But I'm eons away
From being insignificant
And trivial
I am tiny
But my mind possesses
Fathomless proportions
Indisputably
I am willowy
But my bones are ripe
With a strength
of the oldest living tree
My voice is faint
But I roar like a lion
With my actions
So think
Not only twice
But a million times
Before you decide
To sweep me off
Like an atom of dust perhaps
Beware
Of my imperceptible
Yet piercing brilliance
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 7:22 AM UTC
Fussily he figures, that’s not good enough for him
Excessively high standards got his best, and then
Contempt for average qualities; things he had abhorred
Became almost everything, as he always needed more
His code of behavior, to one, might seem ideal
Criterion of excellence would show at every meal
Fork, knife and spoon oh-so polished, and set precisely
All a fanciful show, and done so ever nicely
Particular attention to each and every detail
In acquisition of mate, indisputably he’d fail
For who could ever live up to these extreme conventions?
Or be it prissy of me, to mention these intensions?
Mr. Fastidious to some, might seem the status quo
A state in which display, is an always-complex show
Fail not to follow all rules, as they are set to be
Or you might dine alone, a wordy one like me
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 3:02 PM UTC
In our lifetime, we have regrets.
Those are the things that we want to forget.
Truth be told, certain damages have been made that nothing in this world can change it,
No one and anything could mend it as if nothing really happened to be honest.
We all know that, we know that very well.
He knows it too well.
Once you have given the chance to live,
Live it out to the fullest more than life could really give.
Cliché as it may seem but never count the days,
Make each day count for real.
We will never know when He’s going to take it back,
So before it’s too late, let’s be sure how to get our knees on track.
Bend it if that will help to endure the pain,
Stretch it if that will ease the pain.
Pain within or beneath,
Death could cause either of both ways.
There could be times that we might think of it as the easiest way to escape,
But in reality, it could only make us suffer as we try to conceal it.
Ironic but as some of us think of it as gateway,
Some are indisputably afraid of what it could bring to one’s stay here.
Lots of people too are finding it hard to accept death as it should be,
But we can always have it the other way around, perchance.
We call it being infinite despite our limits,
In this realm which probably has given us predestined deadlines.
But one should take note that nothing could be really permanent with one’s temperament,
Nevertheless, we could always have the choice to outcast our shadows as we live.
We just have to believe,
And nothing but only believe.
Believe that anyone of us could be infinite,
And we can only do that as long as we recognize its paradoxical relationship with the so called ending, death.
Each and every one would be facing death when it found its impeccable way to end,
But if we believe that we can be more of what we are actually could be and did something that we won’t regret,
Then there is nothing greater than what we have come to be from the very first minute of our life until death.
Despite knowing that nothing in this world would really last,
Infinity is within every one of us and that’s for a fact.
As long as we live disregarding the thought that death could anytime hit us,
We can be and do anything as if death wouldn’t find its way to beat us.
Moreover, overcoming regrets would be seamless,
And nothing or anyone could trip us.
To live as if you will die tomorrow,
And learn as if you will live forever.
This is the paradox of life,
Death and infinite could be both fulfilled once we find our own understanding of serenity.
In peace, our hearts will be pleased,
What is more, He will be glad to witness it.
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 4:08 AM UTC
What's the meaning of deep inhale?
If the tar clings to lung while smoke exhaled
Cancerous
Yet brutally devoured like carnivorous
Venomous
Yet corroding slowly like oxidous
What's the meaning of a sip?
If the alcohol kicks in a dip
True
About being blue
Flew
Up into the sew
What's the meaning of a romance?
If memory leaves as the pain stays
Sorrow
Gone as a throw
Grow
Indisputably slow
What's the meaning of life?
If everything seen is a lie
Null
As it dull
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 12:27 AM UTC
#noun
1. i will always be afraid.'bold, heroic, daring...' these are words to describe another. despite this, i will never shy away from myself. i may not be brave, but i am honest.
2. have you ever found a poem that touched you, brushed your very soul, and sent shivers across your skin? inexplicably, indisputably, a dust-spark alights gently in your lungs. inhale, fire. exhale, smoke.
3. flames on my tongue like a shakespearean sonnet, embers on my lips searing like birdsong. i am too terrified to speak. for you, i would.
4. i am finally doing something right.
h.f.m.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 9:24 AM UTC
in praying positions
I realise how looking back
at our conversations
in the same bed
that auctioned my body
to you,
even though my tears,
in the company
of my four walls
indisputably proved
to be the highest bidder...
but listen carefully
as my maleficent words,
escaping just beneath
my breath,
tap into your soul...
until your lungs
know nothing else
than to breathe
the air of me...
until the insides
of your eyelids
morph themselves
into traces and features
of my face...
maybe then you'll really see
the blessings bestowed
upon you...
and count them
as often as you blink....
They say let he who has no sin cast the first stone
so here I am...
as white as the bedsheets
I've left the old sinful
pieces of my soul in
purely resurrected from
the acts of sin
we executed last night...
young lost king
embodied by nothing more
but a sense
of you needing me
I will name and shame you
within this poem
until the thought of it
hunts down your dreams
until they haunt you
and you can do
nothing more but
pray me into your dreams
just enough for you
to find your way
back into mine
so I can dream you
into my existence
-thembekile kilay deh'poet Tsaoane
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC