"installing" poems
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
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Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
I am jealous that the sun has kissed your skin for longer than I
and I am jealous of the way your clothes get to hang onto your frame
I am jealous of the way your sheets can wrap themselves around you every night
and I can not always do the same
I want to be the one wrapping myself around you
I want to pull you closer, so close that your heart knows that we're both in sync
Intertwine our hands so that maybe our veins will intertwine too
a continuous circuit unable to carry anything other than love
Maybe you are now my blood
I don't mind if it consumes me, if you envelop me completely
because I am already devoted to you in ways I cannot convey
I woke up with your name tattooed on my ribs, carved into bone, engraved onto my soul
and I didn't notice because it was the most natural thing I'd ever felt
Loving you was like a calling from something higher
installing faith in me that I did not know I was capable of holding
and I will hold my faith in you even if I lack the limbs to physically do so
because I know that as long as you are the lighthouse on the coast
guiding me through storms, typhoons, hurricanes
that I am capable of breathing and growing until no storms can hold me
until I consume tides and still the oceans and I will do it for you
I'll do anything as long as it is for you, with you
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
~
dark early pre-dawn
body suspended between the-dark ochre earth tones of night,
and the teal pealing notes of warning of an impending morning,
signs aborning, me rising with urgency of the leaden half deaden,
torn from the bed casket to venture into a different kind of twi-lights,
nature demanding both intake and outtake, a restoration of balance
but first a bumbling wobbling, the body as carnival bumper car,
installing soon-to-be-bruising for later examination-exhumation,
lurching from handhold crevices in the walls like crazy cliff climbers,
my balance disturbed, eyes try tearing apart the sticky glue of night,
my sense of direction keeping me from free falling into green glass
edges of glass tables, barely, and not always, red cuts evidentiary
“my balance disturbed” words fresh formed, and a poem expulsion
required to balance the unjust scales of spirit soul and the body cage,
patch an negotiated agreement between warring cousins, just a
twenty four hour ceasefire to retrieve the wounded and the
corpses unfounded in the small copses of false shelter,
like my ancestors expelled from Spain, making escape to be
strangers in strange lands, or remain hidden in place neath disguises
of clothes of new poems, prayers for old and new gods
this new poem comes quick like a young man making first love,
for the poem has been written by thousands nights of practicing,
so ready for quick retrieving in a smattering of a few minutes,
expulsion expulsion
what a perfect verbiage to capture the night terrors, the differentials,
the procession path between what was and what will be,
when my balance restored and this poem’s completion installation
in the body of my work, as a nail disguised in the works of my body,
entering by command of the pitch black gods
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:42 AM UTC
the unthinkable is our specialty
~
there are special periods of varying length
when we are given grants of capability
where solutions transferable like shared salt drops
and red gummy bears
you need, I believe, and the
no contract is signed and commissioned,
belief is suspended,
for the eyes have the evidence,
the ayes win the nomination,
the shaken but unbreakable longest kiss
secures the deal,
and the local island newspaper banners a headline,
“miracles on the island expand contagiously!”
this is when
this is where
one walks the streets and the dirt roads
sing song smiling,
the tide always incoming,
the peeks of sun
perfectly strong,
installing a feeling
of safe and home and not alone
where is shelter?
*here here,
here is shelter,
hear is shelter,
in words and deeds and on our
embracing fingertips*
9:45am
April 11, 2019
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
*The eyes of the luthier are fixated
on the degrading and poorly fitted Dejacques bridge,
a small piece of wood that arches
at the top of the damaged instrument -
a prized 18th century treasure
originating from Brescia, a city in Northern Italy.
With a napkin in hand lightly
soaked in an oily substance,
he unhooks the piece,
then takes a replacement bridge
perfectly fitted for it. He cracks a smile.
This viola d'amore has seen better days,
with usage and prolonged handling
wearing the value of the instrument down.
Only an expert can bring a worn-out bird
seeking its once gracious and hypnotic voice
back to life with care and precision.
This luthier is a* surgeon,
*a master at installing a sound-post replacement,
without gouging or harming
the quality of the instrument in the process.
This luthier is a* listener;
*as he retrieves and dusts off a case
filled with a spare set of strings,
he installs and finely tunes them
but never over the desired pitch.
Tense and crucial,
like the rising crescendo of a string quartet,
he strums the new strings for evidence of life,
listening to and directing the cry of each one,
like a composer.
This luthier is a* healer,
*repairing the cracks of the violin
by implementing a tactic he learned
on his many trips to Crawley, England,
where his teacher had once trained him;
by using cubic, wooden studs and small clamps,
he gains better control at closing the cracks just enough
to lace the opening with an adhesive
with little to no force or pressure.
This luthier is an* artist,
*repairing the instruments
that yearn for the sound of music,
their very raison d'être.
His string and wooden patients
scream in agony for healing and peace
with voices unheard to the people,
but deafening to him.
He leaves his signature on each new patient
as their once damaged and lifeless souls
dance to the tune of his work,
healing them, promising the advent
of a future performance.
Let them rejoice. Let the music soar once again.*
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 2:29 PM UTC
"It's a universal urge to pair up." They say.
It's 3 words and
Suddenly files are executing
Auto-running and auto-installing.
When you've been alone,
It's like
Every rancid dream inside of you is
Awakened. Hyper aware & readied
Preprogrammed bugs start to run.
Users in remote locations
Triggered by tracking cookies
Wheel- in backdoor worms
And all I have to do is click
I/O corrupted
Cloudy decisions, decisions
Ads for free cars, free girlfriends
Glittering pop-ups.
"Hot guys in your area!"
But **** is for the lonely
Bait;
A smiling **** Madonna
accompanied by
Beguiling hooks, fly-paper,
You-name-it
Can't tell if I'm in love or in lure.
But I have to go for it.
And that's the point.
"I love you"
[Click]
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
She sat at the corner of my mind
Comfortably installing herself.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
I'd like to mention that my city Karnal was once the bastion of the armed forces.
Close to my house in NDRI campus until half-a-decade ago stood remnants of the old British Barracks - an irksome reminder of the colonial period.
But we went inside the rickety ruins of an olden period to play hide and seek and sometimes just for fun as an adventure.
I had seen them - the erstwhile barracks in that dilapidated state only, carrying the Union Jack painted at some places, and I had seen the ruins crash to ground - a reinstated taste of Indian freedom.
The Colonial army camped here until the occupying British chose to shift the army camp to Ambala due to high occurrence of mosquitoes in the city of Karnal and found this place fit only for a great cattle yard.
Karnal has seen negligence & side-lining ever-since along the course of history.
The Indian Oil Corporation's petroleum refinery was decided to be built in the neighbouring Panipat city & so was the National Fertilizers Limited's manufacturing plant built there and not in Karnal.
In Karnal they built research institutes, filled with greenery these make the city a comfortable place to relax at ease.
But ****** shameless people don't realize the value of plants & trees and keep removing them off the face of Karnal & even where I live, in the NDRI campus - acronym for the National Dairy Research Institute campus.
****** blood sucker stupid human beings are sometimes more irritating than the malarial mosquitoes.
They cut trees assuming trees shelter mosquitoes!
True they might be but I keep wondering what about the potholes dug by them into the coal-tar & gravel roads to facilitate the installing of religious & marriage tents.
But nothing can be done to change the people whose mindset has been falsely ligated with the thought of we are the best & we won't change.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 3:28 AM UTC
As night silently creeps
For the world still sleeps
Relaxing for some other day
And nightmare comes this way
Installing fear within the mind
Dread is a rope used to bind
Only darkness makes it call
Fixing terror for one and all
Distilling horrors yet to unfold
A cold sweat will now take hold
Ready to open up the gates of Hell
Kindred demons released by a spell
Now cast by unearthly creatures
Every one with ghastly features
So dream on and you will never see
Strange beasts that are not meant to be
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
I'm not trending.
Have I lost my touch?
Has the flock departed my
exodus for greener pastures
or mountain testaments?
Do the rhymes not carry
the meaning like they used to,
like sailing ships in the steel ages?
I let the winds take me anyways,
take my life and scatter
syllable seedlings across the sites
of battles just old enough where
the ghosts are getting tired.
Maybe I need a touch of comedy?
A critique would be appreciated,
dear reader.
By the way, we made some mistakes
in the last issue you had with us.
On page seven, we established the fact
that I was confident. This was
proven false with a report card report
mailed to us by the fine folks in blue at the
Teacher's Union.
On page nineteen, there was a photo
made of words that sounded like
love song lyrics.
That romance is currently defunct and we
apologize to any soldiers and shippers who
attempted to invade that lost region
on the life map.
Page twenty-three had a mistake,
the byline citing a girl who died
inside.
Our apologies for installing her name on
the neon sign and reminding you all
of the casualties of existing in the first place.
Finally, there was an absence of malice
in the letter from the editor on the back cover,
his eulogizing of his overdosed career
hardly harsh enough a reprimand for
someone who will never listen.
Thank you for your understanding of
this, even if the rest is a mess.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
Dear God, The Boston Red Sox Win The World Series?
My congratulations to themselves from Bahstom,
I am sure you will wear your crown with classy
NY Yankee Pride and not riot in the streets
As has been known to happen in Beantown.
But I though I would let you know,
Having spoken to god on Yom Kippur,
He confessed it was a typing mistake.
He meant for the Chicago White Sox
To be resurrected and to win,
Not noticing he was auto-incorrected,
Reassuring me that he was
Installing IOS7, so it won't happen again.
Pride goeth before the fall of 2014.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
THERE IS A NEW TEACHER
ON THE BLOCK HE IS MOTIVATING
AND INSTALLING IN HIS
STUDENTS ESTEME
MAKING MATHS AND EDUCATION
A PART OF THEIR DREAMS
EDDIE WOO IS HIS NAME
HE IS LEAVING HIS MARK
HIS STUDENTS WILL GROW AND FIND
BRIGHTNESS FROM OUT OF THE DARK
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 2:37 AM UTC
Number Forty Two: “You're trying to undermine my rehabilitation. Disrupt my social progress!”
Number Six: “Strange talk for a poet.”
-The Prisoner, “A Change of Mind”
Installing a poem to factory specs
Setting iambic feet into concrete
And lifting adverbs to the tops of verbs
Through the use of heavy machinery
Metaphors must be government-inspected
For solidarity with the collective
And images most closely interrogated
For their relevance to the latest cause
The Good, the True, and the Beautiful
As cleared by United Auto Workers Local 2110
So you’d better like it; youknowwhatI’msayin’
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
It was a coffee-day
And a time of having coffee
Entering into a cool mall
Suddenly I put my hand
On the hand of moon for a while
And after a little refusal again returned
On the road without coffee!
I opened eyes on the face
And transformed myself
Into a hidden thread
That swiftly caressed and bonded moon
Within a neno-second!
I installed one trillion bits of tonic
In my hard drive!
Poem 21
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:41 PM UTC
Initializing Project Insomnia...
Gathering subject's data...
Synchronization complete...
Memory gauge ready to deplete....
Tracing last memory relapse...
Engaging before the time elapse...
Extracting remaining portion of the brain activity...
Eliminating for complete inability...
Subject 001 successfully terminated...
Preparing clone... preparation completed...
System malfunction... Rebooting system...
Mainframe breached... Multiple data hacked...
Re-Animating subject 001...
Life support activated...
Re-installing memory...
Reanimation complete...
Subject 001 is back online...
Bio organic weapon functional...
Preparing extermination...
Codename: Alpha initiated...
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 7:29 AM UTC
Remember Pops?
I mentioned him in #1.
He is black, 82 going on 29.
A heart of gold and hide thicker than an old oak.
Well, the old **** just left me here in his rental trailer
installing a new floor in a bathroom. He had to go get a quickie,
I aspire to be so spry when I am 29.
Anyhow, when we were riding to Lowe's in Enterprise, to get the vinyl,
for his ********* Sirius(tm? trademark whatevr) was playing
Muddy Waters, and Pops
drove past all the way to Opp cause we were engrossed in his story about a black cat bone. Geechee people and Tennessee lore.
We turned around in Opp and headed back to Enterprise, thinking about that black cat being boiled alive and one bone floating upstream.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
Booting Up with or with out you . . .
Retrieving my Life . . .
Relinquish Bad Sectors . . .
Formatting Hatred . . .
Partitioning Space and Time . . .
Installing New System . . .
Restarting System failures . . .
Loading my Pieces together. . .
Starting new Stupidity . . .
Waiting for another Connection . . .
Synchronize with another System. . .
Error Starting to Fail System . . .
SYSTEM INFECTED . . .
SYSTEM CORRUPTION . . .
. . .
THEN THE CYCLE REPEATS . . .
Until Found a SYSTEM Called...
L.O.V.E...
------------------------------------------
Norfhel V. Ramirez
February 21 2011 / 4:42PM
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 10:40 PM UTC
Saluting a happy spirit like you
Ever exuberating a joyous hue,
Changing any monotonous gloom
Into a boisterous croon;
Expanding boundaries,being inclusive
Making every close one feel exclusive
Going that extra mile,
Re-installing faith,reinforcing smiles;
You are an exemplary inspiration
To a self made "beautiful human" rendition.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
The best game in town
must be playing chess with God.
The omniscient old dude
really ****** up by installing
that pesky free will.
Now he knows every possible
move you can make, but not
the one you will make.
Scholar's mate or Fool's mate;
pieces of cake, both sweet
redemption in the mortal mouth.
~mce
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
the election campaign is at the mid-way point
and news poll says it's Abbott we'll anoint
Rudd's electioneering hasn't sparked much interest
of his expensive policies the voters want to divest
soon we'll be turning off the Labor Party's light
we've had an adequate sufficiency of their blight
installing the Liberals in parliament will put things right
we've tired of the present governments turbulent flight
the nation's finances have quickly dwindled away
none of the Labor mob saved a penny for a rainy day
our finances are in need of some urgent attention
at least the Liberals are into monetary retention
there is a feeling that change is going to take place
which shall give the nation a fresh Prime Ministerial face
we are desirous of a policy direction which is sound
for the past five years there's been precious little of it around
to be shod of Rudd and his Labor cohorts shall be grand
they've not governed the country with a very reliable hand
we're chomping at the bit for the September seven date
then we'll send a ballot message to Abbott we want you mate
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC