"insulator" poems
Green glass
but it's French
which makes it
verre vert.
The French should like that.
They appreciate
their jeux de mots.
Not a statue
of a man
but it could be.
Not a piece of art at all
except
I have made it so
by saying it is one.
Its qualities
are visual
and tactile at once
the material heavy
(over a kilo)
not so much transparent
as translucent
the colour
from under the sea
the surface curved
smooth
glossy
the shape functional
admirably suited for its purpose
its name
embossed on the back
(or the front?)
giving a clue.
L' ÉLECTRO VERRE
redundant insulator
from an overhead power cable
found object
(objet trouvé)
from the garden
of friends
in the Alpes-Maritimes.
This souvenir
potential paperweight
ornament
sculpture
is more than all of these.
Souvenir after all
is French for memory.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
We crossed paths after a few snowstorms
And my nerves screeched at the edge of a cliff.
I tugged at my turtle-head hood in an attempt to look good
And a whir of frosted air caked my burning ears.
We exchanged overlapping synonymous greetings,
Your spontaneous recognition and caught-up voice like needlepoint
Left a juicy blackberry stain on my tongue, and I keep licking its
Mystery bittersweet flavor. You fine-tuned your silvery signal
To target the seeds of my darkened pulps
And conduct a lightning strike.
***** minds think alike.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
Let's engender a love like an elastic.
Let's create a love where when we're plagued and bombarded with complications,
we still spontaneously recommence our conventional shape,
like an elastic.
Let's create a durable love;
a love where lies and opinions shock us as a whole
but our love is an insulator,
so we remain unaffected
by the lies that lie in the lightning.
Let's create a love where Cupid's arrows no longer have an effect on us because just how in love can two people possibly be?
Let's create a love where roses are over-rated
and who really cares about a violet's true nature when we all know violets are violet and not blue?
I want that elastic love,
whereas we're oblivious to our boundaries and we're too paranoid to test them out because we just may pop.
I want that colorful elastic love;
not that basic black love...
Although I do like the idea of that black never cracks kinda love.
I want that John Legend give me all of you love,
that you still want my kisses even though I got the flu kinda love.
I want that stick together like glue kinda love,
that walk into a crowded room and all I see is you kinda love.
I want that dream about me and you wake up wet kinda love,
that pet your kitty *** I'm your vet kinda love.
I want that chocolate love...
mixed with some of that mathematical love...
that 1+1= me and you kinda love,
that your skin + my skin= melted chocolate kinda love,
that whisper in your ear and you snicker kinda love,
that make your body parts quiver and purr like a kit-kat kinda love;
...not that slim shady kinda love
but that sweet tooth M&M; kinda love.
I want love and I want you...
I want the tough polymeric substances connecting out hearts to communicate.
Vibe with a ***** one time.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
After a lot to negotiate
toing and froing
you exchanged your teeny heart
for my bag of 18-something stones
I carried it home in a hurry
much lighter than I expected
for what looked like a big cherry
it was shaking when I checked it
I worried at its odd little quivering
a bit timid and nervy
like a leaf blown from its tree
but happy to have a new owner in me
I nestled it carefully
in my mother's best white sheets
but was scared to see
it start to bleed quite a bit
not that it might die
but about what my mother would say
about the red in the laundry
and what she might tell her mother
if she got it back needing a doctor
I decided to pat it
with a towel to keep it dry
no even better
shower it each day
keep it a bit moist
sprinkle it with Eau de Toilette
every morning blow it a kiss
like having a sweet pet
to greet after I shave
I wanted to rub my hands with glee
but it needed treating with kid gloves
and exercised in carefree handling
but first I had to squeeze it
not hard in case it burst
just in the middle bit
around its plumped up waist
it felt soft and squidgy
and beat quite quickly
not like my stones
I wrapped it up in a cooler
using styrofoam
aluminium foil
and a brown paper bag...
Styrofoam is a good insulator
and will keep the love from oozing out
the aluminium foil is a heat reflector
and the paper bag I am not sure about
but grocery stores offer them
to put your ice cream in
so it doesn't melt as fast
I had a meal of cheese on toast
then returned to check my box
your heart was not there to be seen
isolated in polystyrene
O dear I wished I'd cut a window
giving it room to see it grow
but then I spied you in the garden
painting stones to a wondrous glow
so lovely I traded back my carton
and your heart lit up inside for me
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
“20 ways to repurpose a light bulb”
It tells me I need to start with a good grip around the bulb,
give the solder point a twist and free the brass contact
from the wires leading to the filament. If I make it that far,
I have to break the insulator and pull the filament out
from there. Grabbing the fill tube, I need to empty out the bulb
and wipe it out to get it ready.
I guess I could channel my childhood and turn the bulb
into an aquarium—dropping a little bloodfin tetra in with
a sprig of sea-grass or even make one of three small hanging vases
to put on my wall in the kitchen. If I want to get crafty,
I have directions for a glass sculpture, a holiday ornament,
and seven different size centerpieces.
The real surprises on the list are the light bulb necklace
and the concrete molds for light bulb handles.
Here I am, 4 A.M. on a Saturday morning planted on the couch
peering at the screen through my Jim Bean bottle eyes
and all I see are ways to repurpose this broken bulb
for something new—something it should have never been—
and I wonder why I can’t just grab the oil and a wick and
turn it into what it always wanted to be.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
*Sad or Happy
Fine or ******
Loved or hated
Lazy or dedicated
Still or dynamic
Warm or poikilothermic
Fresh or stifled air
Nature doesn't care
Stars are going to glow
Your spirits high or low
Rivers will still flow
With winters come snow
And for summer we know
The winds will always blow
Birds will fly and tire
Nothing outshine's desire
But even that everlasting flame
Dies and leaves ash of blame
A new day will come, sun will rise
With expectations we open our eyes
Set new plans, hands on the guns
Aluta continua, be it monks or nuns
The roads of yesterday forgotten
And new ones at present trodden
Some will walk some will drive
Others stuck while some arrive
It's everyday's common tune
Be it January or june
A poet will rhyme,singers'll sing
Provoke a bee, It's gonna sting
Some live to die, some die to live
can't stay forever,some point we'll leave
Such is strife but strife is life
Unless It's the afterlife
The dusk will come to fight the dawn
Returning to daily *** or daily ****
You play the chess, you move a pawn
Some hearts are mended,others torn
You was a kid, but soon you've grown
With a brother now, soon he's gone
It's the way the clock of nature works
With no insulator to avoid her shocks*
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
my body is an
electron multiplying charge coupled device
and the burning photons
browning my skin
tinting my hair to an effortlessly highlighted hue
are absorbed
shooting out electrons
from the arching potential
running just under the surface
like my skin is some insulator
to protect other’s touch
so my electricity doesn’t
stop a beating heart
has my heart somehow turned into a generator?
pumping out electrons like
some sort of continuously accelerating
perpetual motion machine
i tremble
the noise from the signal emitted
static snaps in my hair
and imaginary wildfires dance forth
ripping and roaring in my head
the tinder of my thoughts
feeding their starved pallattes
and they need more and more
as the flames call to me and weep
the goddess of electrons
with voltage running through every vein
and amperes arching through arteries with the energy of my heart
the exception to the notion handed down by Newton
energy and matter are neither created nor destroyed
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Memories of this lady never leave my mind.
she wasn't a rider, but acted better than one,
riding high above many hurdles in life...fear
never took her away from her responsibilities...
when the fuse in the main switch gave
way, and dimmed the old house, this lady
braved the dark...armed with a flashlight
and pliers, she replaced the burnt fuse with
a new one and brought light back.....each
time the old-fashioned flat iron overheated,
she easily replaced the glass-like insulator
inside, so it could right away be used again...
whatever needed repair---garment, tools,
the fence, the house...ripped, or with holes,
she mended and patched...even blind-hemmed
a torn relationship once...yes, she mended
cracks...was always in the midst of broken
vases, gluing pieces back together, so she
may put water and lovely flowers in it...
nothing was impossible for this gentle lady...
she moved mountains for her loved ones,
always persevering and ingenious, life
became less difficult...she painted their
young minds with a mix of hues,
so they may appreciate and be
grateful for rainbows and yellow sunrises,
learn to accept black, gray, unhappy moments,
and be thrilled by fiery orange sunsets....
this lady is indispensable...and irreplaceable,
SHE, and others like her, are called mama,
muter, mom, mum, majka, inay/nanay, mae,
matka, madre, mom....ahh, the list is long...
Sally
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May, 8, 2020
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 8:29 PM UTC
shake a can of beer... sprouts a fizz
and foam...
shake a glass bottle of beer...
nothing...
i know aluminium cans are thin
and that glass bottles are thicker...
but glass acts like an insulator
of carbon dioxide pressurised in water
while metal of any kind seems
to conduct it; or something like that,
i'm not going to stress any orthodoxy
that will have to be stressed by
future generations in all its changeless
accuracy.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 7:47 AM UTC
You envelop me
As if i'm a cup with a knocked off handle
i fit into Your velocity
Some unknown fingers stacked us into the same cabinet
The one used for the fancy kitchenware
The kind they would crack out when they want to impress
So i pray that they're not vapid as that
After all the greatest of virtues is depth
If they open this godforsaken shelf
They'll notice the flaws i carry on myself
Cracked rim and a missing grip
Damage that even self-love couldn't strip
Love is always more potent when coming from another heart
Porcelain is not as supple as a self-sustaining cat
That can lick the lumps of dirt from her wounded back apart
i heard that mangled cups go to waste
But i swear that i will tear through the trashbag and
Piece
By
Piece
Or shard
By
Shard
Crawl back between Your smooth curves
Your fingers on my face trace sharp swerves
The heat radiating from your nail beds
Soothes my vision of all possible reds
And i revel in your medicine
i desperately need to heal
Your ceramic skin is an effective insulator
The blisters i give You only urge your loving to grow greater
You don't seem to care that i don't have a handle to protect You from the scalding bitter tea
That washes up at my rim like the sea
No,You accept the imprint of my hellishly heated wounds onto You
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 2:50 PM UTC
*Static electricity is an imbalance
of electric charges*
If your words are so weightless
why is it so hard to let go?
maybe love is static electricity
a transfer
in hopes of striking a balance.
erratic exchange
back and forth
insults and compliments
good and bad
*static electric charge is created
when two surfaces contact and separate,
and one of the surfaces
has a high resistance to electrical current*
you got more than you gave
******* insulator
contact and separate
contact
separate
you left me, a hot wire
waiting to explode
starving for peace
and your lies are rubber balloons
sticking to my cotton heart
cloth grown thin from trying to scrape past
the rough edges of broken promises
and the more I try to wipe the lies
to see them clearly
the more they cling to me.
Like poison
I feel myself dying slowly
you are killing me
without even touching me,
the hair on my arms rising
from the chill of what you've become
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Are you familiar
That you are the chandelier
Of my mind
To enlighten the darkness
Of my dreary life
Are you familiar
That you are the insulator
Of my heat and cold
You're the orator
Of my principles and thoughts
Let me remind you
That you are my everything
Leaving you is not my cup of tea..
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC