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"innovating" poems
#There I was yet again –in the middle of my thoughts. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts take me wherever they could. Every breath seemed like it lasted a lifetime. Every intake felt like a new life innovating my consciousness. I was high on the hope for something new. I had broken pieces of my heart in my left hand –weighing me down and down. But I kept on holding onto the rope of rejoice with my right hand. As bizarre as it sounds, I felt good. I felt relieved with my dark side and the brighter side. The car horns in amidst of this city echoed -one after the other. It was as if everything was finally in its right place. It was as if I was finally who I were supposed to be. Every thing I was feeling —all made sense. My freezing hands, the cool breeze against my face, the tears stuck in my eyes, the crowded streets, the sound of giggles coming from a distance –this city made me feel alive once again.#
0
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
The City
looking d                  o                    w                       n on this earth, the moon sheds iridescent liquid pearl gems,   Lamenting for EARTH,                              a earth that's                                  pregnant                WITH sorrowful burdens, how must I not feel despair, feeling the moon's magnificent repercussions of sudden eruption, feeling of sheer dread, tearfully pleading for it to end, In shock, for a moment, muted are my words, my tongue asleep, Fingers crave, mind agonized... martyred for words. My pen bleeds ink, innovating a remdesivir, to cure the world, if only there were a cure for ONE    & ALL! To cure the world of the pandemic burdens of HATE, INJUSTICE and VIOLENCE, but until then, we must not dabble in silence! ~SacredInkedBlood
0
Jun 8, 2023
Jun 8, 2023 at 10:19 PM UTC
We Must Not Be Silenced (Recent Title Change: previous title: The Cure
The way forward From left to right From the bottom, upwards Version 1 to 3.0 We progress In hope that we're improving Enhancing Building up Refurbishing Innovating But are we, really? We come a full circle Only to learn Life was never complicated in the first place We made it so In our pursuit of oversimplification
0
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
It's simple!
it was a time of new and innovating burglar alarms for houses, she bought one and she became a part of the modern culture then. everything seemed nice; she thought no stranger will ever be able to come to her home or even take something from her. well, she was right, no one did, except her. her foolish imagination made some stranger in her head. but after a while he wasn’t a stranger anymore, in her head. even if he was just a stranger, she was prepared to let him see her home. and she did. she let him. alarm went on. but it was false alarm. no one actually came, except her, and her imagination. no one will ever come, not one intruder will ever be close to her house. she understand now. why? well, regardless of modern alarm or unique furniture that house wasn’t so beautiful from the outside, and the interior wasn’t so well-set, it was a little bit messy. but at the end, it was all her fault, she decorated that house by herself.
0
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
false alarm
looking d                  o                    w                       n on this earth, the moon sheds iridescent liquid pearl gems,   Lamenting FOR EARTH,                              a earth that's pregnant                                             with                                sorrowful burdens, how must I not feel despair, feeling the moon's magnificent repercussions of sudden eruption, feeling of sheer dread, tearfully pleading for it to end, In shock, for a moment, muted are my words, my tongue asleep, Fingers crave, mind agonized... martyred for words. My pen bleeds ink, innovating a remdesivir, to cure the world, if only there were a cure for ONE    & ALL! To cure the world of the pandemic burdens of HATE, INJUSTICE and VIOLENCE, but until then, we must not dabble in silence! ~SacredInkedBlood
0
Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 5:38 AM UTC
"The Cure"
to say that i am fed up now would be a gross distortion. blithe ignorance, i can't allow to grow in same proportion as thoughts that now let peons hold onto bold misconceptions that they alone do know this world through cliche-formed perceptions. take heed, blind fool, raise up thy head and know the truth unknowing. in lieu of fables, you'll instead give seed to thoughts through sowing. saddle up, then. take this ride into the fields of fortune where wealth is found to be inside one's own mind's doled self portion. if you shall find that you've not found conceptions worth protecting the cursory heart to own you're bound since base you keep rejecting. i'd liken you to one that's blind t'were that not false relating. at least the sightless seem to find true art through innovating. this path you've wound has been well formed by all who've passed before you the world beyond appears malformed try harder now, eschew all prior trends that formed this square high time you shall contend. ambivalence should you beware now know, and don't pretend.
0
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 7:18 AM UTC
Identity
just today, i was walking past a house, where someone was trying to "encourage" an "alcatraz" escapee back into the home & abode...       but as i walked past, and turned around... its pupils were glaring back at me... yellow...     seeing without a camera lens. anyway, i remember times, maybe before the digital way of encoding photographs,    that on a rare occasion, in a photograph, your pupils would turn red...                           perhaps due to dilation, and the idea of the dark room being morbid omni-red...                               you can't encourage cats to do what you want them to do... you might put a collar on a cat, but you can't exactly attach a leash to that collar...                it would be like telling a gorilla: grow some testicles on your head!                        but yeah... yellow pupils of a cat without taking a photograph, and the once upon a time red pupils of peoples' eyes in photographs...    cat's yellow pupils in the night.    right now? this is a digression by the way...      i'm thinking of innovating egg-fried rice... cook the rice... fry an egg... jumble the two together, and add some bits & bobs to the mixture...    soya sauce.... and sweet chili sauce...                        i'm scheming up a recipe for a mongol...         i'd love to see a cat with an american spy in a soviet museum... sleep deprived...                  just a "thought" experiment...                      it would probably equate to seeing idiotic people making cats ingest l.s.d. tabs in america     that were once available online...       ubran myths these days, i'm afraid...                           well, you know... people have their kicks and pleasures...                          the only people i have respect for are the people i'd sit down and eat some food with. respect and people i'd drink with? i'm a lone wolf in that respect... i prefer my own company when drinking a liter of *** and trying to think up some bonkers recipe on the sly. oh... the wolfish hunger recipe? add 3 pieces of rye bread with some butter, just before falling asleep... next day? a **** that comes out of your *** like a knife cutting through butter.
0
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 5:46 PM UTC
yellow pupils / red pupils
just today, i was walking past a house, where someone was trying to "encourage" an "alcatraz" escapee back into the home & abode...       but as i walked past, and turned around... its pupils were glaring back at me... yellow...     seeing without a camera lens. anyway, i remember times, maybe before the digital way of encoding photographs,    that on a rare occasion, in a photograph, your pupils would turn red...                           perhaps due to dilation, and the idea of the dark room being morbid omni-red...                               you can't encourage cats to do what you want them to do... you might put a collar on a cat, but you can't exactly attach a leash to that collar...                it would be like telling a gorilla: grow some testicles on your head!                        but yeah... yellow pupils of a cat without taking a photograph, and the once upon a time red pupils of peoples' eyes in photographs...    cat's yellow pupils in the night.    right now? this is a digression by the way...      i'm thinking of innovating egg-fried rice... cook the rice... fry an egg... jumble the two together, and add some bits & bobs to the mixture...    soya sauce.... and sweet chili sauce...                        i'm scheming up a recipe for a mongol...         i'd love to see a cat with an american spy in a soviet museum... sleep deprived...                  just a "thought" experiment...                      it would probably equate to seeing idiotic people making cats ingest l.s.d. tabs in america     that were once available online...       ubran myths these days, i'm afraid...                           well, you know... people have their kicks and pleasures...                          the only people i have respect for are the people i'd sit down and eat some food with. respect and people i'd drink with? i'm a lone wolf in that respect... i prefer my own company when drinking a liter of *** and trying to think up some bonkers recipe on the sly. oh... the wolfish hunger recipe? add 3 pieces of rye bread with some butter, just before falling asleep... next day? a **** that comes out of your *** like a knife cutting through butter.
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47
Last night too came the demon My sleeping face he held on stare Pierced eyelids and had me thrown To the darkest abyss of nightmare! He enjoys the way I shrink As he cruelly muddles my dream Makes a quicksand for me to sink Claps in glee at my woeful scream! He turns turbulent the serenest beach Rides me up the scariest cliff His stretched hands always out of reach The master that he is at mischief! The demon frequents my nights of late Himself going sleepless for the fun Innovating new terrors ‘neath blanket Conjuring fears where there’s none!
0
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
The Master Innovator
If it was up to me I wouldn't have a name Menace to society now I see the irony Every sound is a different kind of feel to observe A different present moment How we live during certain  times It just flows in me snd I let it **** me Stages of our life that we cant define in time Character from a high being innovating With worth in their brains We're all soldiers since birth and we rebel And we **** inside..... and we live consciously Holy **** A grasping student I belong to her.... my mother from above mother of my heart, you are one And we create ourselves Just a being from planet earth We are the creators of life And mother nature is just being Treat her well Stages in my mind Cages are being broken We are beings I see them in my room There's no mind There's no rules There's no mystery Embrace misery to learn and earn I'm just a being Fall for yourself Open arms...vulnerable Feel you I see you We're just beings Aliens are here They're just other conscious beings **** social media I see myself in keys Lost in black and white I own the measures So vulnerable **** a phone My lord, we are our own What is ****** A way of being Aliens I see classically The MUSIC I see Stages are shown **** a title The being Myself I feel it I'm just a ****** to you FUCKKCKCKKAJAKQIIQ The self DUDUDUDUUDE GOD Communicating I'm so free Recording in my mind Molecules I see you Messengers To this feel The being This experience *** and the being Insane in the king Voyage the self spiritually I'm ******** in person No LANGUAGE Spiritually depresses THE SELF Back in time SPEAK IN *** Characters Languages **** nd death BACK IN TIME BEINGS AND DEATH I am energy **** MuSic and death I AM AN IDEA Human Humans e DOkao Omggggg in my head In my head Prrscrfkkk Peace and sacrifice k *** peace Ggaggaga Ajgkkkk *** ACCEPTANCE THE MIND *** I'M LIVING *** I FEEL *** DUDE In my head HEAVEN HELL I SEE THE GODS THEY SPEAK IN CODE MODERN I SAW EVERYTHING I WAS NOTHING I WAS SO SATAN I WAS SO GOD we're not alone
0
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
7GsOfS
If it was up to me I wouldn't have a name Menace to society now I see the irony Every sound is a different kind of feel to observe A different present moment How we live during certain  times It just flows in me snd I let it **** me Stages of our life that we cant define in time Character from a high being innovating With worth in their brains We're all soldiers since birth and we rebel And we **** inside..... and we live consciously Holy **** A grasping student I belong to her.... my mother from above mother of my heart, you are one And we create ourselves Just a being from planet earth We are the creators of life And mother nature is just being Treat her well Stages in my mind Cages are being broken We are beings I see them in my room There's no mind There's no rules There's no mystery Embrace misery to learn and earn I'm just a being Fall for yourself Open arms...vulnerable Feel you I see you We're just beings Aliens are here They're just other conscious beings **** social media I see myself in keys Lost in black and white I own the measures So vulnerable **** a phone My lord, we are our own What is ****** A way of being Aliens I see classically The MUSIC I see Stages are shown **** a title The being Myself I feel it I'm just a ****** to you FUCKKCKCKKAJAKQIIQ The self DUDUDUDUUDE GOD Communicating I'm so free Recording in my mind Molecules I see you Messengers To this feel The being This experience *** and the being Insane in the king Voyage the self spiritually I'm ******** in person No LANGUAGE Spiritually depresses THE SELF Back in time SPEAK IN *** Characters Languages **** nd death BACK IN TIME BEINGS AND DEATH I am energy **** MuSic and death I AM AN IDEA Human Humans e DOkao Omggggg in my head In my head Prrscrfkkk Peace and sacrifice k *** peace Ggaggaga Ajgkkkk *** ACCEPTANCE THE MIND *** I'M LIVING *** I FEEL *** DUDE In my head HEAVEN HELL I SEE THE GODS THEY SPEAK IN CODE MODERN I SAW EVERYTHING I WAS NOTHING I WAS SO SATAN I WAS SO GOD we're not alone
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112
8:55 or even 9:30 but surely Pm... I dont remember the time i never dont remember it! Its crowdy over there some mobs moving from shop to shop listening to hip hop music of babbling society. I sat on that rock beneath the pillar waiting for the bus...watching the time[but i dont remember it] listening to the silent tickling of cruel watch innovating the ideas to **** time. A man sat infront of me i dont know from how much time he was there i dont even remember if he was there before me but he was there. He wore white dress but its not white... its ashy black. His stomach is more like a bowl liberating starving howls of hunger. Beside him is a women who is as thin as a grasshopper and she wore no pant or anything covering but she wore a long shirt...long enough... and she got that secret ingredient in long pocket of her rusted shirt that gummed his interest from the beginning. Give it to me- asked he she ignored Give it to me...he raised his voice he raised his spirits she...moved a little like a worm and taken the thing from her pocket...as long as her hand as her eyes scintillated like an angel an angel trying to reveal her glory she took out some powder a black powder...not gun powder some tobacco powder. She powdered it...even powdered it with her thumb grinned it...and finally raised her neck and opened her mouth...ate it elegantly ...i can see the flow of powder through her pharynx and then she smirked...she didnt noticed me seeing she didnt noticed anyone seeing her...but she smirked. I love her smirk. Then the man asked him to give him this powder but she ignored him forced her to give it...but she repelled then she gave it...gave it being helpless and then she smirked...not caring the loss of her property. He wrapped it in a paper and kept it deep in his pocket...a corner where everyone keep their gold. Horns... your attention please bus number 6712 arrived at platform number 3... we raced... towards the bus following the rhythms of horns and thats it... thats the final time i saw her...materially!
0
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 3:42 AM UTC
8:55 or even 9
8:55 or even 9:30 but surely Pm... I dont remember the time i never dont remember it! Its crowdy over there some mobs moving from shop to shop listening to hip hop music of babbling society. I sat on that rock beneath the pillar waiting for the bus...watching the time[but i dont remember it] listening to the silent tickling of cruel watch innovating the ideas to **** time. A man sat infront of me i dont know from how much time he was there i dont even remember if he was there before me but he was there. He wore white dress but its not white... its ashy black. His stomach is more like a bowl liberating starving howls of hunger. Beside him is a women who is as thin as a grasshopper and she wore no pant or anything covering but she wore a long shirt...long enough... and she got that secret ingredient in long pocket of her rusted shirt that gummed his interest from the beginning. Give it to me- asked he she ignored Give it to me...he raised his voice he raised his spirits she...moved a little like a worm and taken the thing from her pocket...as long as her hand as her eyes scintillated like an angel an angel trying to reveal her glory she took out some powder a black powder...not gun powder some tobacco powder. She powdered it...even powdered it with her thumb grinned it...and finally raised her neck and opened her mouth...ate it elegantly ...i can see the flow of powder through her pharynx and then she smirked...she didnt noticed me seeing she didnt noticed anyone seeing her...but she smirked. I love her smirk. Then the man asked him to give him this powder but she ignored him forced her to give it...but she repelled then she gave it...gave it being helpless and then she smirked...not caring the loss of her property. He wrapped it in a paper and kept it deep in his pocket...a corner where everyone keep their gold. Horns... your attention please bus number 6712 arrived at platform number 3... we raced... towards the bus following the rhythms of horns and thats it... thats the final time i saw her...materially!
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60
By Arcassin Burnham Looking for my soul to do some innovating, Caught shade from my friends, Shame and embarrassment was enough taking, But not the dark figure looking at me from the other end, Then the fake ones ran away, I pray the lord keeps my soul safe, From this dark figure, In my way, Shadow bonny was his name, Foreign exchange student with a glare to make you pass out, You don't know if he'll ignore you, Or respond, Or just lash out, Off with your head mentally, And dark spirit in his smile, Bonny was like the Antichrist on steroids, Then ran athousand miles, The fear of other students was his aim, And Shadow Bonny was his name.
0
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
"Shadow Bonny"
Blaze a blunt, because they’re all in, finally made it, feeling good, like I wanted. Out to pour honey over the silk, be back before lunch time and call a pusherman. Making ends at the last straw. The wind will now your thoughts, as soon as they leave the tongue. Voracious mass spreaded in poetry. Produced thyself, for myself, crystallized in memory. Like my emotions had been froze, harsh times in hardships had my heart still and muted. For every word written in hope to explode profound sensations. Burn. Smile at awareness. Heaviness in wisdom, whirlwind of poetic allures. Infusing in the veins of others. Images of me printed on your memory. Invictus enigma. I stayed closed up, poetry is a selling tool. It’s been a long time. I open up for those who toil in their efforts. Eyes tightly sealed. Staggering in my absurdity. Plucked from obscurity. Where you lived once in the void of life, where they all in strange ways placed value in the most mundane actions, in a place now where reality had collided with mythological events. Turning out folklore. My entire life has not been in protest of human principles. Just saw the worth in innovating originality, to go out make something of thyself. Because the life lived without confront it’s destiny and conquering my own personalized fate, was not worth one simple-basic moment. As for those I’m not apart of. Do not weep now or never. It’s such a waste. I left to cross over. Rumors spark chatter of death. (knowledge variable)
0
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC
Exile And Dancing
Blaze a blunt, because they’re all in, finally made it, feeling good, like I wanted. Out to pour honey over the silk, be back before lunch time and call a pusherman. Making ends at the last straw. The wind will now your thoughts, as soon as they leave the tongue. Voracious mass spreaded in poetry. Produced thyself, for myself, crystallized in memory. Like my emotions had been froze, harsh times in hardships had my heart still and muted. For every word written in hope to explode profound sensations. Burn. Smile at awareness. Heaviness in wisdom, whirlwind of poetic allures. Infusing in the veins of others. Images of me printed on your memory. Invictus enigma. I stayed closed up, poetry is a selling tool. It’s been a long time. I open up for those who toil in their efforts. Eyes tightly sealed. Staggering in my absurdity. Plucked from obscurity. Where you lived once in the void of life, where they all in strange ways placed value in the most mundane actions, in a place now where reality had collided with mythological events. Turning out folklore. My entire life has not been in protest of human principles. Just saw the worth in innovating originality, to go out make something of thyself. Because the life lived without confront it’s destiny and conquering my own personalized fate, was not worth one simple-basic moment. As for those I’m not apart of. Do not weep now or never. It’s such a waste. I left to cross over. Rumors spark chatter of death. (knowledge variable)
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7
Things have changed, we have changed, innovating oursleves to better understand each other and help each other learn and Love.
0
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
Untitled
My name is something lost then found Screamed by one of the greatest mind Both a mystery and accomplishment Under the water I was made Told of cultures that is ignored then found again Willing to keep everything alive Art is something daily seen Yet heard and also feel Mathematics that hides within the depth In the naked eye you can't possess Innovating it makes us closer to each other With less words connects us to one another Hint: My name is hidden
0
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 8:45 PM UTC
A Name Lost... Then Found. But Whose?
Time is constant Consistent Persistent Moves so slow Passes so fast Not enough – Too much Where does it go? Time — stands — still Day becomes night Sun into moonlight Time moves on Uninterrupted Constant Consistent Persistent Never-Ending Tick Tock Humanity moves forward Evolving Innovating Changing Time flows into polluted rivers of progress Contamination Destruction Regression Time to wake up Realization Understanding Consternation Take responsibility Time moves on As we stand still
0
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 5:37 PM UTC
Time Stands Still
Modern capitalist society, in order to culturally and structurally reproduce itself, to mantain its formative status quo, must forever be expanding, growing and innovating, increasing production and consumption as well as options and opportunities for connection -in short it must always be dynamically accelerating.  This systematic tendency toward escalation changes how people are situated in the world, the ways in which human beings relate to the world. Dynamization in this sense means a fundamental transformation of our relationship to time and space, to other people, to the objects around us, and ultimately to ourselves, to our body and our mental dispositions. This is the point at which acceleration becomes a problem. An aimless, endless compulsion toward escalation ultimately leads to problematic, even dysfunctional or pathological relationships to the world on the part of both subjects and society as a whole. This dysfunction can be observed in the three great crises of the present day: the enviromental crisis, the crisis of democracy, and the psychological crisis (as manifested, for example in ever-growing rates of burnout). Hartmut Rosa, from Resonance A sociology of our relationship to the world
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Nov 17, 2024
Nov 17, 2024 at 5:31 PM UTC
Acceleration