"innovated" poems
Anticipating the anticipation,
Anticipating the living-life-on-the-edge days.
The ones you hear about
Or you think you've heard about.
You, you've fallen into monotony,
An inescapable feeling of restless contentment.
Some call it depression,
You call it boredom.
They're one in the same,
Except boredom has a much less negative connotation;
And a much shorter life-span.
Mostly, it depends on your age;
The children are bored,
The adults are depressed.
Filling days with self-innovated anxiety,
The kind that didn't always exist,
Or you don't think it always existed.
A drive to be taken by storm
Overwhelmed.
Engulfed.
Something to shake you out of this trance you have been stifled by.
Like a visitor from afar,
You continue to sit in that hotel room,
Anticipating the anticipation of travel.
While you glance
Between the alarm clock,
The room service menu,
The T.V. Guide.
Bored.
Depressed.
Anticipating the anticipation of living.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:02 PM UTC
Shopping was the world first invitation to women,
a freedom to move out of her house. Initially,
Woman practiced shopping for vegetables and slowly
extended to garments/jewelry/white goods etc. Today,
the world has experiencing a better market due to
window shopping. The concept innovated by women,
the women who started window shopping has helped
the awareness of the market, The more the window shopping,
more the sales. The concept of window shopping
helped the textile industries to understand about their products.
The textile industries has developed in terms of marketing
say readymade, exchangeable, trial rooms, gifts coupons
are coz of women. Its encouraged the women to do
shopping effectively.
Facts about shopping. Customer who shop with their friends
tend to buy more costly products than when they shop alone.
Next, In terms of clothing, General advises is to buy
one garment at a time coz If you buy few dresses, You tend the use
the first selected dress more than the others. Buying 'Take Away'
in (costly) restaurant was the blinder coz restaurant charge more
for the ambience less for the food. Using cash on shopping,
you tend to spend less and you bargain more. Don't increase
your buying to eligible for discount coupon. A survey says
that 90% of the issued discount coupons are never redeemed.
Never shop on Discount Sale coz the best collection will be
taken off the shelf by the shopkeeper. The amazing fact,
If any one buy the best and costly clothes one size less than
the one normally uses, has brought down the weight
of that person.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
it's just the creature that goes bump in the night when the lights go out,
so please reconstruct my mind to create a type of innovated frankenstein.
it's not just about the longing and the crave for change but
it's also about the emotions and fingerprints i'll supply for your testing range.
so don't worry smoke another bowl and it's like your whole life will unfold.
but you won't even need that thc to realize your thoughts aren't completely free.
so let the dopamine soak in until you become the fiend
pop your benzos and snort that line, parachute that powder until you reach cloud nine.
is that what you need to survive your recreated scene?
at least before your whole body morphs into benzene.
what is it about becoming a monster, is it you who creates the tragedy or is it your creator?
i wish you could tell me where we go when we die, but you can't open up your subliminal mind.
now you're nothing but a sweet smelling liquid, so drip your thoughts onto my own canvas and lay it out for me.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 4:28 AM UTC
the art of war has been written
in our skin since the first day
we tasted air.
our bodies knew what to do
without instruction, the manual
was ingrained in our systems
before history was even a term.
we knew what struggling was and
the viciousness we'd follow to
feel satisfied within this
paper-hungry, corrupt involving,
power revolving circle of
soil and H2O.
green paper values beyond
human experience, holding its
own wealth above the truths
and acts of kindness.
we are lost now.
our journey to create solutions
and deflate violence, pollution,
and terrorism is counterproductive
when we are only trying to gain
access to fossil fuels,
advanced technology and
easy living.
the art of war is unavoidable with
its nuclear power reaching new
heights and alarming increases
in neighboring countries with
alternative motives.
people are not perfect, but yet
it is hard to use intelligence
towards innovated, structured
education and trying to revitalize
our dying environment or restoring
it to the way our ancestors knew it.
we are too curious now.
the devices we use daily are
hand held miniature and superficial
to honest thoughts even if you may
have the universe at your fingertips.
the art of war is within ourselves, with
the growing population of overweight
eight year olds - instead of gaining
knowledge about life by learning how
to use the imagination, creative
engineers are mass producing game
consoles and virtual worlds for the young
to push past the reality.
we want to be lost now.
society takes tragedies and sensationalizes
so there is just another portal to dig up
the fresh and uncover something bigger
than ourselves.
the art of war has been finalized with
456,495 troops estimated stationed overseas,
leaving at home their families.
our state of mind is grasping, like the hardworking
fathers in search for american made products,
yet can only find poor industry made objects
for $5.00 on the shelf of the local monopolized
superstore.
the art of war was born in us
with airtight top secret plans to defeat
another continent, but we all
swallow the voice to bring back
compassion for starving children and
focusing on the here and now.
the art of war is all around us,
the art we will never escape.
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 8, 2011 at 4:07 PM UTC
My eyes have encompassed all the world
Surveying its glory and splendour
Civilisations advance
Society cultivating cultures
Technology, created and innovated
By human beings being knowledgeable
Expanding capacity, capital, territory
In terror, losing identity
Working, moving, breathing
They cry
“Worthy!”
But is this worthy?
My eyes have encompassed all the earth
Surveying her beauty, her majesty
Mountains, hills, and forests of lush green
Beasts and creatures of all shapes and sizes
Oceans, seas, rivers, clear blue sky
They all seem to cry
“Worthy!”
Is there more to this?
My eyes gaze into the heavens
Pondering all their mysteries
Planets, systems, billions of stars
Galaxies upon galaxies lightyears afar
And I hear in the distance
Echoes of angels and heavenly hosts
Thrones, dominions, powers, rulers
Saints and elders around a radiant throne
They all cry
“Worthy!”
I bow my head in awe
And in silence reflected
What the measure of a man is worth
In the grand scheme of things
Where one exists amidst seven billion
Working tirelessly to no end
Amid a vast and glorious creation
Which will all draw to an end
Am I worthy?
And I hear in the distance
The one called Worthy seated on the throne
Calls out to me
“From the dust have I fashioned you
Formed you into My image
From the lowliest estate have I given you
Heavenly heritage
My child
Once an outsider, an enemy
have I bought you with my shed blood.
You are made worthy
For I am Worthy
As with all who are Mine.
So define not your worth on futile things
Or others who lack the clarity to see
You are worthy
As I am Worthy
Worry not your worth
Which is found only
in Me”.
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 8:24 AM UTC
They say cigarrette & alcohol are something which humanity has innovated,
Intelligent - huh?
Every breath I breathe
Is often full of offensive smoke,
Or the ****** stench of *****
Humanity - yes - humanity has let itself be so prone to addictions,
They love to smoke - have ***** in their backyards,
And to have wilder editions of what used to make them human,
What differentiated them from other wild animals.
So evenly widespread is this diluted evil,
That I myself feel so tempted to try them once,
But I control myself knowing that trying once would get me addicted,
Once and just once more - Once and just once more!
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
Always wrong
With what I thought
was just a song
All the demons fought
But I was losing all along.
Words unspoken,
Lyrics broken
Until our words pour out
telling all that life's about.
I give my life. Whole. Devout.
Passion never running out
No fear. More pain. I conquer doubt.
A child's life changing route
Altered dreams
Tearing seems
You see her changing teams
As she rejects all she knows.
Life goes on, wind still blows.
She may regret the path she chose
But at least she stepped.
The found the ledge and finally crept
Right of the cliff
No bones stiff
She was this:
No doubt in her mind
She had to be bold; be one of a kind
And now she's stuck
Straight out of luck.
Caught in a storm the sun may never fix
So she'll scream her lyrics and hope the story sticks.
A symphony
Of modern sympathy
Music sounds
And steals away simplicity.
A soul isolated
Thoughts so innovated
The idea her mind created
Was shot down.
Brought down
From the sky
A dreamer left to die
But as she looks up through her dying eyes
She sees the questions in the passers-by
As that fake curiosity took the time to wonder why
the dead bird never left the nest.
You shot her down and took away her best,
You stole the gold and made a cavern in her chest.
What's it like to be the voice that could have stood behind,
But instead you disappeared the back-side of a whisper in your mind.
So tell me, what's it like?
To know you could have been the one to drop the mic.
But instead you said nothing and hid behind your apathy,
I hope your life ends happily.
You could have been the voice to stand behind my music,
But instead you hid behind a whisper,
And became the one who killed it.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
All you touch and all you see
Is all your world will ever be.
But who knows if this is all a dream?
A figment of some higher dreamer’s dream.
But if we are all just a dream,
Do we not all still exist?
In this world that we are in
We can feel and think and touch,
And so even if none of us exists
Could this still be enough.
We think the choices that we make
Are things that we have picked.
But in the end it doesn’t matter,
Because we think, what we think.
But if my thoughts,
If they are not mine,
But from someone else’s dreaming mind.
Honestly, I do not care.
Because if I do not exist,
What I think is real isn’t even there.
If no choice is my own,
And nothing here is real.
Nothing matters in the end,
If nothing in this life is real.
But all they touch and all they see,
Is all their world will ever be.
And what if this is my dream?
If you and you and you.
Are some strange combination
Of some people that I knew
In a life that is outside this dream,
A never ending dreamer’s dream.
Because when you are within a dream,
Everything makes sense,
To the dreamingly so conscience mind
Nothing is false pretense.
All I touch and all I see,
Is all my world will ever be.
What if this is your dream?
What if you are really lying in bed,
And everything that is and has happened is all inside your head?
What if the past as you know it,
Is all just fabricated,
And ingeniously and subconsciously innovated
To fit what I just stated.
But if its so,
And this is all just an act,
Put on by your sleeping mind,
How am I to act?
That is not up to me, you see,
If this dream is yours.
You are the one who determines my words,
And decided who next will open up that door.
If this dream is yours,
I only one request.
Please, please,
Make the teacher cancel our next test.
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 1:20 AM UTC
In the land of darkness
Trees, fruits, and harvest
Rivers, plants, and storms
A land evil has taken form
Was once peace, crazy, and wild
Only lasted for a while
The dragon the band wagon
Dragging bodies seizing properties
Manipulating armies
Enormous platoons
Under control like cartoons
In the Devil's saloon
Dancing to his diabolic tune
His gigantic company marches
A melting *** risin hot slowly rot
A mass number tide by the neck
Their outcomes a wreck
Smacked on the face
To be put in their place
Slaves to a palace
Whipped pimped crippled to limp
Once the dragon fulfills
Bursting flames begin to ****
There is no need
For human filth to lead
Now I shall proceed
My means for concentration
May leave numerous devastated
New world order is reinstated
Renovated Innovated elevated
The miracle healer
People draw nearer
Too much said
I'm somewhat dead
When proof is read
The rulings have misled
A death bed like sadistic dread
Where the weak are led
Law eat up what is fed
Don't believe me? ask ted
He can back up what I just said
About the blinded minded dead
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
God was ignited within me when my lungs felt their first breath, when my body was recolored due to the oxygen that permeated me
nineteen years later I see him as an Artist, my artist-
The willingness to create and make with outside forces critiquing and verbally destroying every formation signed by his name.
His work is clear when the earth is painted from a distance, the landscape adorning the horizon.
An individual as a canvas- With his paintbrush that is God he strokes and embellishes on a person until they are to his likeness- with elaborate detail we become our own and to others we are seen as a price, or more so an accomplishment generated by a being who sees beauty in everything.
He, our creator, is a mosaic and we are the pieces gathered together, brought by the winds that act as his angels; to fit together perfectly, or not so perfectly, creating a world of color, and diversity.
He is not only an artist of fine paintings and drawings, but of sculptures and modern looks.
He creates to give each canvas a sense of self, individuality.
He creates so that others are moved by his work, so that they too see him in every sketch, abstract figure, printed graphic, and illustration. He is the outline of every innovated design.
He is what I see and what I feel; He is the beginning and end to everything beautiful.
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 10:26 PM UTC
Frederick I wanted soldiers eight feet tall
and some people believe they can commune with the dead,
or with birds, as if it is not the height of arrogance -
having innovated the opposable thumb, and with it
everything from the arrowhead to
sure, eight-foot tall sentinels on servomotors -
to now want to move things with our minds.
The kingdom of animals would hate this hubris,
would Marx our prehensile hands and
Mao Tse-Tung our nimble larynxes
if they could.
As in moments of great distress some
panicked parents lift buses for love of kin, who hasn’t -
in moments of pain - wanted the dissolution of their love
which certainly feels immortal
to prove itself so, by evaporating every living thing in the vicinity?
What human heart, trembling or melting,
has not wanted to cry a galaxy,
or call down a flock of birds on an errant spouse?
Who doesn’t want the kind of heartbreak
that requires that FEMA intervene?
Well, for one, not I.
The better moments are the ones where absentminded
you look out past the dashboard and have lost a second or two.
Given it to nothing specific, as tribute. You’re giving seconds back
to a hungry mouth and gut, already full of seconds
and the crumbs of seconds. You know that.
But it feels appropriate to bleed a bit, and wonder.
That corium elephant’s foot goes stomping in all directions
and the town deserts or flees,
but lead contains it; and the town,
its Ferris wheel still moving, but only with the earth’s rotation,
is inhabited once more by grass, then birds, then
adventure seekers with DSLRs, then real, honest people
who have wanted to live here again for a long time
and it is the coming back which feels best
and is only harder with great disasters.
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
I have set a like of black and white no color. I have shunned away societies bull **** over and over. I have been stranded in a vortex that play's your life's mistakes like a minor with a ****** fist from anger in the pure eyes of the devil of your own misery.
Eyes and ears but all I have to say to that is blah blah what ever. I have no wish except that my voice would of been heard cause life would be more innovated.
My last dying wish is to see society not be such copy cats of one another. Making me feel like shunning away made a good decison.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 10:10 PM UTC