"innovate" poems
Smashing the ice with a sledge hammer is exhausting
Pounding, sweating, blisters pulsating
Slowly chipping away at the vastness of frozen emotions
Yet, the ice is formidable from months of winter
Forced to recalculate, to innovate, to anticipate
Salt has the ability to melt ice into tears of joy
Unless the salt solvates in open wounds
Progress freezes until nature's spring decides
The sun is enlightened enough to slowly
Allow thawing in his Mother's time
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
I remember the first time
I felt panic, I
Had been raised in a beautifully-constructed world of my mother’s making where I could
Take my time and step from subject to subject like hopscotch or skipping rope because I wanted to know it all
Drinking it all in, soaking in knowledge like a bath
Learning everything there was to learn
Leaving no stone unturned
No one told me I couldn’t
Swirl my fingertips in acrylics, read books on horses having *** at age seven because I wanted to be a veterinarian, hit the soprano notes though I was an alto, crush dandelions into healing potions, create a world on a stage with crying child actors, nick cardboard boxes and clocks because I knew I could move time backwards
Then I grew up and
The grown-up world was not so forgiving
Examinations, papers, time clocks, meetings, expectations I could not meet with the excellence my soul craved
I can’t breathe
Fear had a choke-hold on my throat
My mouth would dry, then wet as my stomach swirled and groaned with nausea
My hands turned into ice picks
My heart screamed like a jackhammer in concrete
Every possible worst-case, best-case, win-win, lose-lose, lose-win scenario would rush and overthrow my amygdala like a union mob besieging an abusive factory that never closes, never lets them rest
I didn’t realize it was because the only way to do it all and be it all and hit every deadline and finish every task was to sacrifice perfection, to become average, mediocre
Assimilate
And I learned the truth
That that was all the world expected of me anyway
You see there is no patience for anything else in the real world
I can’t breathe
I have no emotion, only thought processes
Paralyzing, debilitating clash between suppressed desires to take my time, create, innovate, learn and the overwhelming need to
Focus, decide, move faster, work harder, be on time, be better, please everyone, be everything
Be nothing
To where the only choice is let go of that part of yourself or go insane
So I shed my skin like it was a sin I was leaving behind
Just to survive
Without the headaches, the heartbreak, ripping my hair out over stupid little mistakes
It’s taken this long to find it in my closet again
To not be afraid
Of the soul it takes to
Perfect
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
Unexpected defeat
A shock to the nation
Politic Tsunami, they said
Time to mourn? Time to analyze?
Try to decipher this Tsunami
Being fed the same chocolate flavor
High time to switch to another
Which flavors they fancy now?
of sweets, of biscuits of cakes
Do you know?
Creativity, innovate, concern
Listen to their plights
Why do they retaliate?
Blame the Tsunami again?
So unintelligent, put yourself under a microscope
analyze, examine, please understand more.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:04 PM UTC
It is when we hit the teen end, does the world follow the third law.
We get trapped in the beauty of fear, fear of falling behind.
We need a guarantee. A certificate will do that.
Lately, life fits into earning and burning of hard money.
What does the future hold? The great worry.
It's all about numbers, and they say 'us' can not be quantified.
What is this all about? Sit back and think.
Here life options serve as counting thin lines.
Where does the truth hold?
Wait for a novel to delta your philosophy or is your will a build of simplicity.
Chaos holds fear yet a win, but Simplicity my friend is the truth searched by the one hiding within.
Life Hacking is a way of living. Those who follow it might find themselves happy and at peace.
Its all about being in control.
You can be your own teacher, your own university.
Learn, not to earn but to understand.
And create, and innovate, and be different.
Have the courage to believe that you can change the world, because if not people like you, the modern society would not have existed.
You are the fuel to the engine that runs the world.
Don't waste it in being regular, Be Different.
Because, People who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world are the ones who do.
Hack your Life, Be the Change.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 8:04 AM UTC
All these stanzas look alike
they talk about the same things
with the same words, the same poem
written over and over again
like voices, whispers, copying each other
unable to feel and trust experience
differently, socialized for homogeneity
unified but dull, strong but obedient
their writing seemed the narratives
of machines unable to innovate
plagiarizing voices they believed were
their own, authentic, pure
their literary journals were a politics
of masters of arts and agendas of contests
like car commercials without a proper
enjoyment of speed, or our favorite writers
whose names we only knew because
they were the ones who died at the right time
while somebody was looking, reading them
but the bookstores didn’t know their
metaphors were weak, or their life’s work
was merely symbolic, that’s the thing isn’t it
poets are only symbols, as poems are only
fluff, paper, the labor of writers-in-residence
while the rest of the world are more
interested in serial killers and which stocks
might be worth getting into, and when to sell out
investing in words seemed silly to them
and, in my selected works there was nothing
of how to be a Poet Laureate or how to win prizes
exceptional or not, publication was left to amazon
state grants, fellowships, visiting writers
academics who never felt truly how to write
poetry at its heart was a colonization of artists
few could share what that meant, we were
the first illiterate generation, spending more time
with the internet than with books.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Hear ye my statute, men of Attica--
Ye who of bloodshed judge this primal cause;
Yea, and in future age shall Aegeus's host
Revere this court of jurors. This the hill
Of Ares, seat of Amazons, their tent,
What time 'gainst Theseus, breathing hate, they came,
Waging fierce battle, and their towers upreared,
A counter-fortress to Acropolis;--
To Ares they did sacrifice, and hence
This rock is titled Areopagus.
Here then shall sacred Awe, to Fear allied,
By day and night my lieges hold from wrong,
Save if themselves do innovate my laws,
If thou with mud, or influx base, bedim
The sparkling water, nought thou'lt find to drink.
Nor Anarchy, nor Tyrant's lawless rule
Commend I to my people's reverence;--
Nor let them banish from their city Fear;
For who 'mong men, uncurbed by fear, is just?
Thus holding Awe in seemly reverence,
A bulwark for your State shall ye possess,
A safeguard to protect your city walls,
Such as no mortals otherwhere can boast,
Neither in Scythia, nor in Pelops's realm.
Behold! This Court august, untouched by bribes,
Sharp to avenge, wakeful for those who sleep,
Establish I, a bulwark to this land.
This charge, extending to all future time,
I give my lieges. Meet it as ye rise,
Assume the pebbles, and decide the cause,
Your oath revering. All hath now been said.
3.6k
U gave me that leaf, & said u were never gonna leave, Cause we were meant to live, now I have to Outlive & conceive the pain of grieve,
Who are u to tell me when to meditate? Please go your way and don't dictate, I have been born to innovate, Learn from me and don't aggravate,
Why dig into my past just to excavate things and deliberate , Yet you imitate and commentate and say it irritates, Never hesitate to prostate, Cause it elevate and motivates my innovative.
Even if your silences grieve so loud in my ears, I will never freeze, I will always leave, Because I never lived, I am never relief, I can't be pleased, Even when u sneeze. It only aggravates my pain when I eat, Dats the reason I refused to breath.
How can you call me fake When that's what you are, What you are is what I say , What I have seen is what am saying..
Fake, fake, fake, Fake u are like fanta Colorful yet distrustful Great pleasure Hidden smile, Full of Fantasy, deceitful u are.
You said u were my friend, then why stab me twice and expect me to talk once, U have twined &twisted; me, Enough of the Glossy bossy, mischievous in motivation, Malicious in thought,
Why judge when you can settle to be a judge in a jungle Stop been unjustly, & learn to be justifiable,
Now it's time for u to leave , superstitiously I have lived suspicious u have been, Dangerous you have become, Unpredictable you are , You're definitely a ********* You're never my friend
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
As potential grew, a desire to write, disclosed to few
Imagination immerse, but yet to thirst for knowledge, accrued ambition address
All aboard the express, thoughts of Harry, a plot to marry
From fanciful flights to greater heights
Capturing such visualisation, twas the formation
Characterisation, of wings to soar, with metaphor
From Dumbledore, yet taking shape
Professor Snape, assume the plot, lest thoughts forgot
A forest to roam, a philosophical stone
Such creative flair of which to share
Joining of the dotted line, artistic mind
Transporting train, journeyed acclaim
Of whom to impede, the will to succeed
The ability to write, the capacity to teach, the desire to reach
An impetus for change, a literary role, a priority
Of which to seek with tenacity
Beyond horizons, beyond confines, stand undefined
Awe-inspire, great readership, a due reply
To simplify, a noble shift, outstanding writer in the midst
Dynamic plot from pen to page, persistence through to published stage
A realised dream, challenge overcome
A victory won definably, stocked supplies to library
Broomstick flight phenomenon, a mystical tale was to become
Would generate, the bus of Knight, to render right
A rebuilt life, a legacy made
From chosen craft to final draft, a world of creativity
The right to type, to innovate, an intriguing wait
A shining star that would liberate
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
The spark of passion ignites the heart, until it is engulfed in a conflagration of notions, as curiosity triumphs over caution.
The seed of wisdom, planted in fields of knowledge, is cultivated and refined in kingdoms of intellect to innovate speeches of freedom.
Blisters in sweaty palms, rubbing against the pen, as it drifts between the paths of future and past, where hope is met and joy is felt.
Consumed by epiphanies, the heart-beat is felt by trembling hands, squeezing the pen for inspiration, to bewilder imaginations, giving birth to new perceptions.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
Your generation is defined by definitions.
'This generation', this new-fangled bunch of hooligans
Cut out and put in the oven,
Lives pre-formed, based on premonitions,
Put into the system and cranked out
Made up of numbers and tests that really define who you are.
'This generation' that you have given a set of rules
A set of molds to fit into
To pour their lives out and 'better the world'
Shaped with your all-knowing tools
Scissors that cut funding to the parts that maybe,
Perhaps, might make them an individual.
Because here, no, here we don't have room for individuality
But we sure have room for this assembly
Your freedom of religion, speech, and freedom to assemble
No room for that, for fear of immorality
We don't have time for originals, we don't have time for strays
I'm sorry that you've got ideas, Generation Y
But this is the generation of time constraints.
We've got technology to innovate, an ozone to fit
Communities to build and lives put at risk
But that's not as important as what's in the now
No, not as important as these tucks and nips
We've got to put you under the needle
Even after we swore, 'first do no harm',
But this isn't going to hurt, I swear
Well, maybe not on the outside.
Look here, Y, you'd be better off compliant
To fix our computers and drive our trucks
To turn off your TVs and just trust us
To read the chapter and finish the assignment
Because to us, you all learn the same,
To us you are still just a number
Even if you think you're out when you graduate.
So what, you graduated the system,
And it's done it's work on you
Have your daddy pick the college and your mama pick the sheets
Pack your bags, you're ready for the big world
And that's exactly what we made you think.
Generation Y, you are fitting into the molds we gave you
We tried to crank you out in groups of 300
And we did
You were never allowed to be original
And you weren't.
Generation Y, this cookie-cutter, uniform
'Glued to technology', uninterested
Group of 'stupid' teenagers
You were forced to unify
And forced into corrals, thereby,
Forced into lives we've blessed you with.
I swear, by my very intelligence
That we're good by you, good by the world
In evaluating what we need
Where we need people
Hopefully creating a society less-gnarled
Generation Y, you may hate the population
But you are the population
And you are what we told you to be.
Your lives were pre-formed from day one,
So, please,
Sit down, shut up, finish your definitions,
And stop asking why.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
bloated with liquefied verb
numb feeling for the thinking muscle
sweet sound will sometimes swerve
little-lest things are going in a hustle
pressing keys, i'm not dazzled
emptiness will occupy the rounded roots
stop, stare, tap the snare
imagination pops, voala! colorful fruits
shop, share, college hair
someones asking me, are you there?
words are needed to communicate
we are all cursed to integrate
initiate, advocate , innovate
crowd as they were, they agitate
so i swim on this letter not aware, im saturate
Oct 6, 2010
Oct 6, 2010 at 4:33 AM UTC
Narrative Reportage for 8/2/2018
Home is the word we love to hear:
The dreams are never over,
They are always a break through: after the tears:
An x is lodge in our heads was it the,
rock, a tree, or the hidden board,
Time welt serve: time to cash in
Time uproot the rocks
that tree and those loose boards
would this be a happy ending?
You had choose the life of crime
The crime didn’t nail itself
Every day a black man
Under the age of twenty
Pulls the trigger, they turned off the light
He longs to return to his mother womb:
I see the love of their mothers
While she holds their hands at age three
at age twenty three I see the replacement :
the chrome bracelets: the resentment
Neflex the new society wants us to believe that orange is the new black:
**“Our ancestors have invented, we can at least innovate.”
― Amit Kalantri**
**“Oh Child
Look within
Find your ForeMothers
Find them
Find them”
― Malebo Sephodi**
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
One must suffer for beauty
But not in this self-destructive fashion
Maybe after we put ourselves out there
They'll worship at the pedestal
Some skewed mindset of what glamour highlights
Re-invent yourself
Not innovate another's identity
We're just templates
left to be traced by another
Who wants to be the photocopied poster child?
She just wants out
You can't blame her for exploiting herself
This was after the sext messages
Sent to his phone
forwarded to all his friends
sent to all their friends
inevitably the internet
Girl's got a sickness about her
She wants to go viral
Starving for attention
Starving herself for perfection
Caught somewhere between ascension of ego
and descension of the soul
She's lost like a lighter in a smoke circle
Won't somebody spark the way?
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
Told to look to the future,
But only seeing the past.
Told to keep moving on,
But always turning back.
Told that looks don't matter,
But judged on first impressions.
Told to be unique,
But forced into others' intentions.
Told to innovate,
But creativity shot down.
Told to be accepting,
But hated for praying aloud.
Told to be honest,
But fed the media's lies.
Told to love,
But watches as it dies.
So, are you happy now?
Pleased with what you've done?
Pressure, hate and prejudice,
Destroy the innocence of the young.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
I added a fourth strike to the at-bat
Just for the heck of it.
Cause i'd be the one
To innovate when needed
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC
I'm searching for the words
Words that hold
A power
To create and innovate
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Make Out a Healthy Vision
I am a gainful, young-eyed lad;
Innovate of gooey truth,
It’s yummy dishonor.
You idle, now,
staler, evil one.
-Idle Wrath
—————————————————————
I Love You --------------
My Language failed you and I.
I have not forgotten you.
My mind is your host.
You lied now,
Love is eternal.
-Wild Heart
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
I am an artist.
I can make myself into something new
every day.
Imagine the possibilities you could
innovate,
Just let me know what you want.
Here, flip through this magazine for some
ideas,
And tell me what you like best!
It’s all about pleasing your audience
anyways,
It doesn't matter what I want,
Nobody cares about that.
They just want to see something pretty.
I sculpt and paint imagery out of tools
To end up with a fake canvas.
Day to day I suppress myself with the lies.
I chip and chisel,
Dissect and carve,
Bits and pieces,
Until I’m left trembling,
Just to be tossed away in the end.
Splashes of red,
And strokes of black ignite your appeal,
And this is what you label as real?
Hunger strikes itself through the bones
Revealing its power through the limbs
Of the body, eye sockets, sinking down,
Down,
Down.
Death could possibly be the resemblance.
What a terrible piece, a shame it is.
Maybe just a few more tweaks,
And it will at least look halfway decent.
Trim down the sides,
Thin out any extras,
Fill in what is needed.
Even just a tad more color,
Then we have something.
Time strolls by,
A year soon passes,
And one day I just happen to actually
stop,
And look at my masterpiece,
But only for a moment.
In the mirror,
A reflection stares back at a wretched,
Ghostly,
Figure.
Beads of liquid build up into my pallid
eyes,
Unable to contain the weight of their
reasons any longer,
Tears begin to burst,
They trickle down my rose stained
cheeks,
Fueled by the absence of perfection,
And I feel nothing.
Needs more work.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC
Without mistakes, problems to solve
Best practice would never evolve;
For mistakes and problems create
A chance to learn, to innovate.
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 4:19 AM UTC
Slack canvas bends with the first strokes:
brush and paint scar a waiting whiteness.
Others follow of less distinct pressure
but now with an affected swirl
a life emerges.
Colours are selected with random thoroughness,
outlining only what the eye believes it sees.
Shapes conform to break the rules and innovate,
where bright arrays can glide through blundered blobs:
ochre, umber, raw sienna.
Sable is saved for finer life forms
steadfastly fixed in oil.
Tentatively mixtures are blended
to blur the more familiar with
darker and darker hues.
The creator remains anonymous.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 11:48 PM UTC
*Covered with concrete walls
A rapid combustion
exhausting the world
Our brain doesn't worn out
Life is easy as a dream
We don't need to lift a hand
It's not a movie, it's just technology
Codes and scans, nothing's real!
It seems not a big deal
No one talks, just too busy to innovate
Skyscrapers and big gates
No more clouds to see, it's too late
You'll never get lost
if you are shot by a GPS
There's nowhere to hide
They'll track you even
you're in the other side
No more heartbeat to rate
just a beep from a screen
of that metal pulse they create
No more green to be seen
And it's not even weird
Barcodes and eye scanners
Detect your battery status
You build not dreams,
but power controlled
by the founder
No more gray matter
just chip being programmed
Oh, right!
And there's no more people
since that bombing started
Everyone's greeting
is a whirring
mechanical noise
For we are all nothing
but a bunch of machines*
-A
9/1/14
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
krytyka na żyda to ta sama na krytyke polaka, skoro krytyk na żyda to też krytyk na polaka - skoro żyd bez ziemi to też polak pod włóknem niemca czy russa czy też bezwdzięcznego austrjaka! odsiecz wiednia!
https://goo.gl/2wVUsz, from minute to an hour:
radio-kacap - lost the c somewhere,
had to innovate -
ra - d - yo -
радя -
(я to possess it, a punctuation
mark on the letter to stop
the omicron from rotating a fullness)
КАЧП - or simply ç (s) -
ketchup apparently,
the slaughter of Zagreb -
Croat piled on Croat
for a Mexican roll via Tahiti -
kark capa - kark kacapa
(stary kozioł to zwany cap
bronz spermy i zapach tzn. cap'a -
capie ten ogier Poznania w szambie południa
na gry czołem z bliska
w tenis z innym capem) -
stary ogier na tle mgły
i kozioł kopiący kszięrzyc w orbite
i w równie starannej rubryki: sto razy jeszcze raz
to samo, bo to dla wieku
dwa dwa: die tventy secoond centaur /
die nächster tausendfüßler, year on - year in.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 8:36 PM UTC
To correctly correlate,
The facts that we assimilate,
Requires all the minds that calculate,
The truths which we deliberate.
Now, the ones that we affiliate,
With the ideas that we innovate,
Really just appropriate,
The profits we facilitate.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 4:12 AM UTC