"infinitive" poems
I reserved a table for the two of us
at the only restaurant in the world
that not only offers atmosphere and setting
but tone and syntax as well.
First some articles for appetizers. They're
easiest on my pocket you know.
An an, a the, and an a.
Let's not even start on the punctuation,
I'm treating you to a rather large meal.
As large as the entire English language,
now back to the articles.
Sure these taste like lint but they still
taste. Petit fours but there you are.
Try to be disinterested or you'll
put me off my food.
Nouns now. My, what a variety.
Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power.
They taste like a bit of everywhere,
and everyone, and everything.
What's that? Surely they're not that bland.
Maybe you need some seasoning.
"Adjective" comes from the
French for "to the word."
So exotic aren't they? These
really are fantastic.
Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least.
You must admit, they
make the meal worth it.
I hope you're not allergic,
I could have sworn I just
had something "nutty."
Oh, it had nuts "in it"?
There must be some prepositions
mixed in here.
(I'm glad we're getting through
these now, I've never been a big fan of them.
When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end
of my sentences. You just can't do
that in a joint like this, it seems.)
Ah finally. The verbs are served.
Well-prepared it would seem.
Yes, anything you can do to a verb
they've done to these.
Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!),
gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we
did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.)
Fairly lean too, as I can't see
any auxiliary fat.
For some reason
those adverbs (just to your left, under that
thesaurus) really go well with this.
Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly.
Now a brief selection
of conjunctions, but don't ruin
yourself. They're not a meal of themselves,
just a link to...
Oh! Look at those interjections.
So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive.
I told you to keep your appetite.
Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me!
And then everyone proceeds to
die
from a split infinitive.
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
Lonely word,
without rhyme or reason,
seeks meaning
and needs a good root.
Slightly faded but still opulent adjective
seeks mature sentence
and meaningful relationship
view long story
beside warm fire
with red wine.
Noun with no hang-ups
seeks juicy verb
for fun times
and swinging relationship.
Let’s split the infinitive together!
Conditional clauses not welcome.
Mike T Minehan
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 9:26 PM UTC
Ko Ko to Go Go
a prelude to a kiss
dance with Chubby Checker
lift a slo gin fizz
Head bobs to Be Bop
flip the B Side now
mellowtune in monotone
two ears for stereo wow!
Wonderment of Duke and Miles
swinging kool birthin boplicity
urban crush the hipsters rush
jazz joints cross the city
Firery sax emote a clash
strain ears of credulity
Lester leaps creative heat
nips harden on my *******
Max taps exotic wax
Django's quick pickin
finger snaps flip my lid
lips deliciously sippin
Eurozone a Zen zone
a blue infinitive smokin
big peeps dig don pink wigs
fat spliffs hot token
My new suede shoes
walks west end blues
Pop's cornet got me tippin
his open blast first to last
I like cornbread, barbecue
and fine home jazz cookin
jbm
Oakland
3/12/10
Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 6:41 PM 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
*it hurt to hurt,
and watch them hurt,
but we had to hurt,
because if we didn't,
then the hurt wouldn't go away,
and if the hurt didn't go away,
then we'd never stop being hurt,
and it would be a never-ending cycle
of watching them hurt,
while i hurt too.*
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
- - - there are the days when
i savor my isolation,
i savor my freedom.
in this state is when
Urania came forth
to lift my chin,
to lift my gaze
from finite walking-path
unto Eternity of existence.
She placated me, brought me
to surrender of my Self.
and i lay staring at the ceiling,
longing for a little rest knowing
i did this to myself, and
i don’t complain to you.
- - - there came a conclusion of
self-destruction as
the only thing to depend on.
and i destroy myself
through entertainment
while
fighting tooth and nail to survive.
- - - Sunday 5.30ante.
began Friday 9.30post,
Saturday 9.30post is twenty-four.
i am four short of thirty-six.
and my turbulent stomach awaits
the imbibement of a hard benzo –
(shorten’d word to be hip.
[also the reason i used an infinitive])
by this point i am deranged
and trace mildly. not just
a fancied flight alongside a reality
my mind deceives me of. not
just an insaned delirium
i perpetrate. maintain. sustain.
disdain.
space to insure emphasis,
- - - have i been outward too long.
i sweat naked in the snow thanking,
no Deity,
but instead handful of
multi-color’d, shaped, strength downers.
and i smell’d on death
perfume of flowers as
its figure look’d me over –
naked freezing wretch –
and extend’d claw with
rotting flesh no where
in pace with this vessel’s.
i began to blue, and the
shadow of my end
falter’d in my mind.
lungs, in impulse,
heaved air within themselves.
stretching frozen sternum.
- - - let’s take some math,
how about:
zn+1 = zn2 + c
i am patient,
please explain in detail.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 5:44 AM UTC
I am Sewn through eternity with the thread of forever and the needle of always.
If this that I have for you could be expressed tangibly, we would need a bigger universe – for it will not fit in its small infinity.
If this that i have for you could be expressed in words, I would need a bigger vocabulary.
If this that i have for you could be expressed to the fullest extent in any way, shape, or form, it would take a lifetime of infinitive seconds,minutes,hours, and days to tell this that is my love for you.
Mar 11, 2010
Mar 11, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC
For we vile and unquenchable creatures
scavenge the twisted fate of imagination;
take pleasure not only in the creation
but in the movement, harmony,
and persuasion a verse evokes.
Enthralled and misted by
Ambiguity,
Intangibility,
and a verdict -
a sole desire to reach
what the mind wails,
a conclusion.
Beware,
for elegantly,
a writer scribes
or utters nonsense
for a mere, distant
consultation
yielded by the
faithful art.
Ordinarily,
we create while
lacking meaning,
gratuitous spirits,
echoing
a whimpering quail,
yet, we are bewildered
by profound imagery
and indescribable joy.
Doubt arises
in regards of
each word's validity,
bringing upon
interrogation,
scouting the way
for infinitive
journeys
yet to be written.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
TRAPPED IN A TEASPOON
the -ing -ing of the bell
trapping him in
the continuous present
an eternal gerund
as if the moment could not be
escaped from
even the sky clouding
the trees( so to speak )
tree-ing
and he
he he he-ing
a prisoner of grammar
his face looking aback at him
from a highly ornate teaspoon
and he himself that distrotion
reality refusing
to boldly go
splitting the infinitive
the -ing -ing of the bell
a present that refused
to pass and become
the what had been
the now fearful of putting a toe
into a future it did not know
the very future that
awaited him
but could never happen
the moment
congealing
about him
trapped forever
in this forever
the spilled wine
staining both
his shirt
and time
the -ing -ing of the bell
the -ing -ing of the bell
the -ing -ing -ing of the bell
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 12:27 AM UTC
There will come a time
when time doesn't matter,
when all minutes and
millennia are but moments
when I look into your eyes.
There will come a time
when clinging things
will fall like desiccated
leaves, leaving us with
but one another. There
will come a time when
the external becomes eternal,
when holding you is to
embrace the universe.
There will come a time
when to be will no longer
be infinitive, but infinity,
and you and I are one
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC
What are we,but children wrapped in time and still patience,
ascension of duration and climate and colours.
pretty circles, spinning infinitive,past street lamps,dim glows
bright against cold darkness and steam from mouths hesitant
to speak in chill. Tight scarf,arms clamped possessive against chests,feet shuffling
the awkward Autumn dance to walk fast,walk away,walk wild
against chapped lips,goosebumps and clear air that pulls minuscule hairs
and airs. And childhood reminders,bonfires and gloves and bright red cheeks,
posing as memories for yesteryear and pumpkins, grotesquely shaped.
Not great,
not perfect.
Perfect is the sodden leaf,swollen with rain shimmery in the gutter, simultaneous steps. Nostalgia,the creep of the wind against windows shut,home an escape, the fire flames flickering in eyes wide for wanting.
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 7:45 AM UTC
The Hardest Forgiving Slant
<|>
9:19am Fri Sept 22 2023 ~ 8:02am Fri Sep 29 2023
commenced during the Ten Days of Awe
<|>
we debase our language daily,
robbing the spectacular majesty [example]
of awe with the common overusing
vernacular of “awesome”
especially forgiveness is degraded,
we utter “I’m sorry” trippingly,
costless, less than cheap, with even the
snap-on veneer (1) of sincerity discarded,
but move on to the next rudeness
but today I will not permit myself
an easy letting-off-the-hook, no shifting
of blame to anonymity, or fast forward to tomorrow,
when we can obfuscate our intrepid
dishonesty one more time…again
to forgive those who have injured us,
not that hard, or the judging deities,
who silently wink and nod, but offer
no certitude beyond trying, itself a
maybe, maybe not, truly tiring this
trying tacking the constant requests
so first an etymology explication on
the tension inherent that very word,
f o r g i v e
As a word, as a sensed,
intuitively-
it is a
Perfect Continuous Infinitive! (2)
to
forgive is
perfect,
to forgive is
continuous,,
to forgive is
infinite!
what a marvelous, perpetual
past, present and always futuristic
word (alas)
The Hardest Forgiving?
to forgive oneself
so nearer to impossible,
the first responders doing triage,
leave people like me for last,
as it a unconditional condition
with no cure that can be effected
indeed, by our very affect,
they instant diagnosis seeing our
very gestures, body language, or ****** expressions,
all reveal the hopelessness of
the never-to-be-given-grace,
among us
for a thousand years,
I have tried and failed to forgive myself
for the worst I’ve done,
and there is no sword or club,
blood-letting,
that can dispatch the onerous burden I carry
so I write poetry,
a salve that offers
temporary relief,
while I write,
imposed a
momentarily distracting,
a kind of dusting of self~spin,
that chills myself
just until
the, this!
poem is finished,
the slant is drawn
<§>
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
Sep 29, 2023
Sep 29, 2023 at 8:12 AM UTC
Some days.
I think.
Who is the one.
But is there.
One or two?
Maybe more.
I am counting on it.
That there is more.
So lets rase.
A glass or two.
To.
Infinitive me.
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 4:44 PM UTC
It's Christmas 2015,
And I am here to ask,
When will you and I be younger,
When will we have more life ahead to live,
And if we don't choose to fully live right now,
When will we?
Life is a precious gift.
Hellish?
Yes, sometimes.
Wonderful?
Yes, often!
Beautiful!
Certainly, and ugly, too.
Look up from ennui.
Rise from the ashes of despair.
Take hold of Hope.
Seize Forgiveness.
Embrace Courage.
Stumble or Stride into Life.
Do you know there is a Savior
Who came as a poor babe
Through the ****** doorway
Of a ****** to set His mortal path
To the ****** doorway of the Cross,
In order to lead us through it to Joy?
To travel that path to Joy,
You and I must do only one thing....
Receive the free gift;
Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ...
And be saved.
The rest is the infinitive
TO LIVE!
Life in Christ is a struggle;
No secrets there,
But that Life is worthy
The Sturm und Drang,
And don't we all have
Sturm und Drang
Anyway?
So, LIVE!
Merry Christmas!
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
This loveless shell
Has
no pulse,
Just an ache.
Has
no emotion,
Only time.
No more friends.
No desire.
Countless scars.
Left in howling night,
infinitive.
Stripped.
Anonymous.
Wanting.
I'm not
afraid to die.
But mercy terrifies.
Euthanize
this wounded beast.
I am a ghost in your wake.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
to that cheerful girl that I love the most,
a friend that is always happy and full of jokes,
but all you can see is just a peak,
there is more when you continue the seek.
see, that girl with two faces,
one with a smile and one with a frown,
under those masks are tears of her realities,
the pain of rejection and judgements of this world,
she chose to be isolated,
fearing the rising oblivion around her.
see, her mind clouded by her deepest thoughts,
many she have fought,
to attain freedom against the circling storms,
and for her to assess her greatest confusions
see, deep down into her soul,
the resonating sounds of her cries and remorse,
waiting to explode ,
crawling into infinitive darkness,
every second counts as if it's not endless.
see, her heart being a prey to fools,
doing everything,
and breaking borders and rules,
but the saddest is after all of that,
her heart was left broken too,
no one to comfort,
for she's just hiding it's pain.
keep her, treasure her,
she's a person to keep with a side of wittiness to spare,
love her the way she loves the world,
show to her that she's important too,
make her the happiest person.
if you are like her,
thank you for being a part of this world,
people who sacrifice things for others to be satisfied,
i know how many times you cried,
but don't worry,
there will come a time that fate itself will bring you someone,
someone that will give the same importance as you did.
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 1:19 PM UTC
There will come a time
when time doesn't matter,
when all minutes and
millennia are but moments
when I look into your eyes.
There will come a time
when clinging things
will fall like desiccated
leaves, leaving us with
but one another. There
will come a time when
the external becomes eternal,
when holding you is to
embrace the universe.
There will come a time
when to be will no longer
be infinitive, but infinity,
and you and I are one
Tod Howard Hawks
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 10:13 AM UTC
There is nothing more mother than my land;
Where I want to be buried alive--
Red brownish soil is the warmest arms for a hug,
a hug too long I decompose
in calmness too peaceful the angels fall asleep,
God forgets there is hell,
borders erased, all becomes infinitive one,
it's purely true peace.
Choir of devils, a pool of love songs,
honest teeth and bites, truthful,
wonderful as baby's skin and toes.
There is nothing sweeter than the bitter.
The tongue of the ocean to lick the wounds,
flowers too young to bloom,
here we are, too pure to have a spring,
seasons are just too fatty.
Poetry does not end too soon;
Even when goodbye is not said--
These words are in a hurry but they stuck, because
narrow mind is always messy,
and the mess is too scared to speak.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
She was like the wind,
You long for during a hot summer day.
She was like an anchor,
That would save you from drowning.
Yet, she was so empty,
Like the infinitive endless black holes you find in galaxies,
The same galaxies that were trapped inside her.
She just couldn’t figure out,
How to handle such a given gift like hers.
And with having a vivid mind but a broken shell,
And conjuring smiles on everyone’s face,
But not hers,
She decided to vanish into the nothingness.
-Eunice Adewole
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
Dictionary in hand Bobbies
manned state of the spy craft created
strategic peripheral outposts
a comma dated,
(sans syntax garnered monies) equated
justifiable to build galley ma free
Highland Manor wing - feted
via "FAKE" glitterati
creating surreptitious hated
surveillance monitor ring, which insulated
decked out starry eyed Starship
Enterprise surprise rated,
as an unbelievable well Spock kin
Duplicated Star Trek venerated
popular culture science fiction set piece,
where elderly residents waited
this other worldly architectural phenomenon
didst immediately outshine by alight
year among the original seven wonders
of the world prominant
as a buck toothed over bite
yet, didst camouflage top secret AngloSaxon
incognito missionaries delight
upholding correct language usage,
Thence trumpeting amidst
nonchalant onlookers as excite
mint hinted grammarians with listening devices
some flying unseen
as period size drones taking flight
other more sophisticated
electronic accouterments
dolled, gussied, issued with apostrophe
shaped flower buds scaling height
of cerulean sky, where blinding light
of a solar ellipsis, thus
arousing no discovered night
gallery suspicion during
feted occasion rife with polite
"FAKE" markedly questionable legatees quite
suitable asper The Art Of The Deal during
ribbon cutting ceremony,
and after words right
ting up citations slyly
slipped under windshield wipers
as the madding massed crowdsource,
would take dispersed out of sight
nonetheless echoes plenti chutzpah left
English figures of speech
uttering unstinting (quote unquote)
premature ejaculations,
eh so blandly trite
non-sequitur visited
by thee epic of Gilgamesh
for a dangling participle
during the split infinitive Sumer season
(exclamation point) no more to write!
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
every day,
I rewrite myself.
infinitive fingers and sinewy syntax for muscle, bones of good solid prose as a frame. my hair stays the same-- always five syllables long and inky black.
attitude slicker than Bill Shakespeare
sometimes a grin like Lewis Carroll
or an enigmatic e.e. cummings glint
in my eye is thrown in.
I always write in something I haven't written before.
maybe if I revise myself enough
I can overwrite my mistakes ;
just remove a stanza and
swap synonyms,
and I can start anew.
that would be nice.
but not all mistakes can be fixed
in the next draft just like that.
you've gotta bleed for your mistakes and you've gotta bleed for your words,you hear me?
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth
or so I was told at the humble age
of seven years old. I did not ask
and I did not question.
I saw that it was good. Or did I?
It was only the beginning
but what of the rising action
what of the darkness growing
over the surface of the deep?
I was yet to learn for sure
the conflicting nature of faith
or the meaning behind every rosary bead.
Thrown in at the deep end
I stared into the void. A vault
between the waters, or perhaps
an endless sky covered in stars
a ceiling in my bedroom
yet another thing I did not question.
Thus no answer came.
How was I to know the darkness
if not for the light of day?
I waited days and years
until the night came again
and for the first time in forever
I asked myself why
do I truly seek forgiveness
or salvation? Could I be
reborn into a creature
of fire and vengeance
or a winged bird blessed
with the gift of flight
and a lack of conscience?
Perhaps I could have been
state of the art
a true reflection
instead of this serpentine twist
somewhere deep within me
grinding, nesting
in the manner of a deadly disease
clouding my vision
and numbing my senses
taking away any certainty.
The very nature of existence
is to learn its meaning
is to doubt the ideal masters
and their conjured ideas of freedom
infinitive and infinite.
I do not have the answers
but I ask the questions. I am
in control of my own fate
I rise above the darkness
I am the master of the seas
the shepherdess of my own herds
I see all that I make of my life
and I see it is good.
Thus the heavens and the earth are completed in all their vast array.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous took
one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely in jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
a minor typo found this fanatic spell binding hound to resend a poem dashed off in a huff (past the hour) if nothing else than fur his peace of bot tee, mind. Thus this Norwegian bachelor wannabe (most closely aligned with said status closely attained unmarried state by pledging my Unitarian troth) tilled, sown, and furrowed spirit nsync with the missus sleeping in close proximity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
dog tired this day - march 29th, 2018
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome, and worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely
in the slaammed shut jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
My heart is being split in two.
I don't know what I'd do
without either of you.
Feels like I'm here playing a game.
My love for you drives me insane.
I cannot handle this pain.
ANYMORE.
Take my body and take my pain.
My mind tells me to leave.
But my heart tells me to stay.
Take my sorrow until tomorrow.
I don't think things will ever change.
FOR ME.
Just think about leaving me.
I'll have a panic attack.
Too many attachment issues.
Now it's death that I lack.
And all of Lords angels
and the Lord of the Dead.
They could never make me whole.
AGAIN.
I know that I seem heartless
but in reality.
I just have too much heart.
Love is blind you'll see.
Life isn't a fantasy.
Not a dream come true.
We all die alone.
This is nothing new.
And all of my demons
keep me awake at night. They are always hoping.
FOR A FIGHT.
Life is not a game.
Not a fairytale.
It's not an infinitive dimension.
Not all love is the same.
Your prayers will not help you.
The decision is yours.
Doesn't matter if you sell your soul.
What matters is if you love is true.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 2:31 PM UTC