"iso" poems
The misty fog outside,
condenses into a speckled bedroom glass.
Through which,
nestled deep under the blanket,
I hear the orchestra of a rainy 8am life.
Bothered by the unconducted iso-rhythms
of dripping water droplets,
dropping onto the metal window sill,
I peak my head out from under the duvet
and yawn out the stale air from my lungs.
I notice the coffee left for me
on the bedside table before she left.
I grasp the warm little blue cup.
I hear the birds in the trees somewhere below
warming up their sleepy little lungs.
I close my eyes and feel the cold air
through the window.
Hiding under my duvet,
I drift back to sleep.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:47 AM UTC
if a sound could be grainy
like a photo with the ISO too high
over-compensating for the light that shone too dim
through the patterned curtains in your bedroom
in your mother’s old house
where the peaches tasted better in water than in sugar and that had never
ever happened
not since you were three years old when your grandmother
who was not yet too old to do much besides eat TV dinners
and watch ‘the price is right’
before your grandfather’s funeral
where you ruined your velvet dress
spilling cheap coffee all over the bodice
(if it had been good coffee the situation would be
entirely different)
the sound of you
exhaling like a train rolling right past the house
shaking the walls and the floor and the sofa
less and less as it gets farther away
you sound
grainy
like a photocopy
and i can’t find
the original
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
I talk a lot about motion,
like I know a thing of progress.
Drop of water in the ocean.
Beautiful ripples of tragedy,
of comedy.
Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
We all know
the words and we go:
Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.
I talk a lot about language,
communication's importance.
Did you know I only know one?
So, holy **** I'm an *******
Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
Developed
world depressives, go:
Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.
We all go
to return
to one place.
We all shoot the farthest we've ever shot,
just to realize we're separate by margins
drawn by logos and emotion --
nothing to come will be made of much
but those two things, because
escape would be improbable.
(becomeasgodsbecomeasgodsbecomeasgods)
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
The last time she meekily made love,
she painted woad on her arms
and bemoaned the children she never bore.
She summoned their names as "Iso" and "Tope",
to her bemused lover she retorted
"I want to make Roar, not Love".
She bode on the straightest longitude
to Banyas and bathed in its spring,
fortified by Tennessee Honey,
to Quneitra, she bore wire cutters
having already wept for a town
destroyed by un-love,
where she could simply set up a commune,
To grow Kohl Rabi and learn new days.
Instead Apache helicopters and glints of Uzis
Cast the spectre of World War Three
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
if i am a dead language
then you are fluent, and
if mandarin is the hardest
form of discourse then you
learned me as a back-up--
I have always been a tangle
a mess of overreactions and
sentimentalities, too proud
to call for help or be pulled
from the rough convinced that
if it must be done at all
it must be done by sheer
willpower and
iso
l at ion
i am trying to unlearn that
i do not have to be alone
but it's in the company you choose
that some mistakes are too deep
and coiled to come back from
if i am dead language then
i am old norse, a handful of
runes and sounds falling off
the tongues of no one special
just scholars and politicians
struggling to make sense
but not all too
concerned
in the first
place.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 9:46 PM UTC
The Anorak diviners see
their market jolted, killed off
Already Magic numbers's 64 and 200
are side-lined and downed,
all they have are memento boxes of
once household brands ,
liquidation like implosion sees,
ISO granularity choice further compressed,
those remaining niched as Professional film
to milk the last remnant of expediency,
in the midst of adversity
they should pledge their mounts
as a salvo to tomorrow.
Earmark them, gifted for
Local History Musems
pristine images from yesteryear.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 3:44 PM UTC
Feeling isolated,
sometimes
i don't feel as though I'm the type to make it
angsty anxious
soul sedated
so I type to make it
self described as the greatest
self described overrated
self prescribed medication
self denies that exploitation
this could be the "realest **** i ever wrote"
yet its honestly nothing more than mental notes
reminders that I'm not dead yet
remind me when I'm dead, yet
come find me when my head's set
solidly on my shoulders
don't know why I'm so sick of being HERE...
my mental state's constantly all over
I'm often sought for "good advice"
often thought of "being right"
"living life"
well
while you whisper "listen" without thinking twice
I whimper at the thought of life
misheard, disregard me in the spotlight
cuz... dawg... my soapbox full of termites..
don't wanna preach to the choir
don't wanna talk to the congregation
and I'm sure with all these blunts I'm facin
I'm bound to be famous
isn't that how it works...?
or am i..
bound to be facin
blunt truths
and
those famous cliches
we love to hate
why I'm sending love every which way?
when that love always comes back as a switchblade?
that cuts so deeply
given a forewarning, yet left in dismay, as to say
"now this may hurt..."
"but learned lessons..-"
-THEY DON'T LESSEN ****
my scars have stories but trust me, being scarred is a different story
I'm still sore where that passion burnt
lately I've been wondering if writing is rather vain work
combined with this lack of passion its got me questioning my body and whether veins work
or not
regardless when you blowing wind; you should know my weather vane works
a lot
but most of the time
i try to find
justifications
to my observations-
"-yoooooo everyone deserves a second chance b"
but I'm simply asking
how long do your seconds last?, see
the last time I was "stuck in the moment"
I grasped on tight and tried to slow it,
but there's no escaping the fact
that things come and go
seasons change
from summer sun to falling leaves and rain, then snow
...
listen... falling leaves a back broken..
but while lying there staring
blank into the dimly lit ceiling
snapped in half,
i realized that
the hardest part about the ego and letting go
is having to say, "sorry i was just stuck in the past.."
what kinda **** is that.....
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
The Analogue diviners
200's swirled and drowned,
ISO granularity further compressed
in the midst of adversity
we will pledge our mounts
to prosperity.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC
Semi-automatic eyelids flicker,
Backdrops glare through thick black lines.
Fast forward tracks on silver halide,
Detail removed, spoiled by light.
A scene defected as clarity hides.
Rib-cage rattle engine backfire;
A marble rotates on the edge of a knife.
Three-hundred bodies drift by aligned:
All voices unify into a singular baritone
Outfits blur like the traffic at night.
Cloud cover grows, the audience subsides
Calmness prevails, relaxing your mind
Shoulders sink to back to a perch
A low ISO repairs the flooding of light
Each silhouette regains its detail
As passers by regain their autonomy
A low ISO repairs the flooding of light
Each silhouette regaining its detail
Sweat stops pouring from over your brow
Conjoined voices become conversations
Clouds cover cracks as the day drifts by
A marble taps the brickwork below
As vertical beams shoot from the sky
Get back to your feet, pray to the night.
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 7:30 AM UTC
Asking too much from this emptiness, structure and language. Some
love nest between the eyes lies love in complete quietness and iso-
lation, a lonely planet in the distance. Not to want, or a complete loss
of time, or both. From your hips come a tight embrace, gilded in mad
desire from another side of what is life, transferred by frequencies.
Give up defences, dropping of humanities, pyramid of eternal longing
at midday sun, eyes or desolation. We travel on, held by the heels in poi-
son Ivy below, and fly. There is a night deformed by beauty and a living
memory, just keep quiet when you see it or feel it's meteorite burn.
Make me come back asking too much from a lonely hell?
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 7:13 PM UTC
I rush my days
for moments with you,
for the feeling of peace,
of a dream,
where I have
all I'll ever need.
Im neglecting myself
for my time with you Love,
and I fear
that this is too good to be true
that you are mine
and I am yours too,
that if I look away
you'll dissapear.
So Im neglecting myself
for my time
with you Love.
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 8:36 PM UTC
like years of church functions
rocking back and forth on chair legs-
******* the back against the corner
shoelaces stained by the summertime.
lock limbs in search of abandoned public restrooms
windowlit and forgotten planter pots
legs shaking inside.. for want of dog teeth
flaking off. white as oxidized lead
beds. graveyards
for
generations of guilt titrating out of the skin hips
out
of us like sweat
that iso-stains
precipitate.
your
sashimi eyelids_
my
diorama for you.
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
Be good, like a sunny evening
Be beautiful, like a green forest
Be bright, like a morning bright
Be fairly, like a fairy tale tonight
Be standard with natural ISO No.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 8:11 AM UTC
Frames manage
a lot in the house
They decide about sofas
and cupboards, which
models may enter
Tables, beds, pianos
cradles and baths
Roller coasters
they refuse contemptuously
Frames choose
for everyone
what everyone should choose
because people aim for standards
frameworks for their lives
ISO, ASA, AND BS
We are all equal
and doors are two meters
34 by 93 (Building regulations 2012)
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 3:07 AM UTC
I lay awake it's 1:30 feeling lIke I'm just stuck. I see only havingredients a broken heart and soul. My emotions run wild like the wild Mustang horses that roam free from danger.
Stuck in deep thought that could try to be used.
I novation seems like a joke when you are just running out of mental steam.
I feel like my reflection that screams at me in the mirror never musing all my flaws I am.
I just see the darkness beauty of what society has thrown at me.
Iso my life just a dream or reality beat my soul apart leaving me no tears to cry.
Darkness beauty make the world more fun when you can see what you could describe.
I don't know why I couldn't wake up can I see my image as a traitor like my shadow that seems to leave me when my shadow make me feel less alone.
My heart is strong but broken and shallow from time we all lend up with scares to remember where you were at the time .
Don't waste you time just run free from the stupidity society will bring down on your reflective
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
i isolate myself
then say "i feel so isolated"
iso late
esca
late
iso don't want to be here
is everything okay?
is.every.thing . O.K.
is any thing ok?
have u herd the werd absurd?
people don’t like to read
so i seed weeds in their feed
so maybe then they’ll sea
weeds were feed all along
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 11:24 PM UTC
Psyche WLTM her Cupid.
Enjoys candlelit dinners.
Chimera looking for love.
Me: light smoker.
You: must love animals.
Orpheus seeks Eurydice;
I won’t look back.
Oedipus ISO older woman, similar interests, background preferable. Likes surprises. GSOH.
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 10:41 AM UTC
you'll get sock-lost (baby))
just as the dogwood blossoms
pulse against the ground. y o u
**** the **** of the RØDE microphone
as the quiet sets in.
each pixel is humming for you
as you
sip it out of the ISO 6400 night.
what is digital is done.
and all is remembered.
for once
we have place
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 10:11 PM UTC
Oud
Rose of Taif
Incense
Musk
Sandalwood
and
rare spices
1. Mayil Karuppu (Black and yellow)
2. Kagam/sengaruppu (Black and red)
3. Sevalai (Red)
4. Karum Keeri/Senkeeri (black/red dotted)
5. Sambal Boothi (Grey)
6. Kokku Vellai (White)
7. Noolan (white and black)
8. Pondram (Golden brown)
Automotive Safety Integrity Level is a risk classification scheme defined by the ISO 26262 - Functional Safety for Road Vehicles standard. This is an adaptation of the Safety Integrity Level used in IEC 61508 for the automotive industry.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:37 AM UTC