"italics" poems
~a question of a thousand dreams~^
“Where are you going now my love? Where will you be tomorrow? Will you bring me happiness? Will you bring me sorrow? All the questions of a thousand dreams, what you do and what you see”
this one composes itself
for all dreams go unremembered
the first, the thousandth, the every in between,
erased by the push button of opening eyes
but dreams come, marching in, saints mining the raw materiel
the quartermaster has stored, awaiting requisition by an
unarmed unnamed corp, witnessed but never seen
these dreams wisped soft willow budded, tempting taunting,
leaving nothing but unanswered questions that colored come
in black and white
elementary clues,
a pillow indentation,
single hair that stretches
across the sea between two pillows that is blonde or red
but
certainly unmine,
dregs of soured sentiment linger like the
aftertaste of too many coffees and stainless steel beers
heated summers breezes give no succor or relief,
and the rain following gives no pleasure,
for now you are hot and soaked,
but somewhere in there a dream is part replayed,
and eyes widening in major league surprise,
the question acknowledged, the dreams quest hinted
she has gone, neither happiness or sorrow will she
provide on the morrow, no toweling of your wet hair fair,
and you awake sweat besotted, it is not rain, just pain,
and it is only one dream a thousand times repeated
and what you do and what you see
is the abraded night ahead, and
you bitter laugh, for there is no more other than to think,
the question answered, and you beg relief by
uttering
“perchance to dream”
3:49 pm
see the notes!!
someone accuses me of Plagiarism
because I did not acknowledge that the quote in marks and Italics was from a famous song written 39 years ago
so here is my response to
“just saying”
congratulations on ******* me off
and yes I agree, you do not know the rules
“#1: Quotation Marks Are for Quoting People—Verbatim
Perhaps it should go without saying, but quotation marks are for quoting people. Quoting doesn’t mean summarizing or paraphrasing; it means repeating exactly what someone said. If you put double quotes around a phrase, your reader will often assume that someone, somewhere, said that exact phrase or sentence.“
http://thevisualcommunicationguy.com/2013/09/11/10-things-you-really-need-to-know-about-quotation-marks/
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
Everything in quotations marks and italics was written by TS Eliot.
eyes knowing glossy men,
sheer women, creatures,
not all artists, but artists,
always thus,
centrifugal, simple
from their core,
emanate, resonate,
expand the exterior
with interior precision sculpting
to the interior delve,
via brush or limb,
pen or music,
the exposition, the exploration,
the reconstruction of composing
one's self, creation and destruction
of your own myths
movement of arms and legs,
sparseness of simplicity
subsidiaries of centricity,
tributaries of complexity,
oriented to their locality
the simple purpose of inhalation,
to exhale, after transformation,
the calculus of thought into emotion:
*"the tongues of flame are in-folded
into the crowned knot of fire and
the fire and rose are one"*
the dancers hear the music:
*"so deeply that it is not heard at all,
but you are the music
while the music lasts."*
**”Quick now, here, now always –
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well"**
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
i never used to understand why people
hid their pop preferences like
they might hide a **** room...
or like: the toilet paper ran out,
so i jumped into the shower story;
what's with pop music in older people
and getting the embarrassment sticker
that says: HI, MY NAME IS JEFF
AND I LIKE BRIE POP FROM SCANDINAVIA:
nostalgic culmination? death growl
dark metal: the frustration apparent throughout:
frustrated amateur singers with their
strained veiny necks... see that aorta?
opera singers? are they even opening
their mouths, or is this opera meets Roy Orbison?
and by god, that's the case, people are
ashamed to actually acknowledge their
pop preferences... no wonder Patrick
Bateman is fuelled by it...
it's very much like that... pop's the foundation
in you actually liking music...
shame i love music more than women:
keeps my sanity... 2 months apart
and you can't hear a vacuum cleaner,
maybe once a week... maybe...
then the radio starts playing some vintage Roxette...
Abba who? that's for those aged
40 and above... Roxette is my generation's equivalent.
Roxette's masterpiece? Joyride:
the entire album, yes, you'll listen to
this album like some prog rock feast:
Joyride ( : + italics
is the same as bold:
double emphasis )
***** you will! Roxette's Joyride is the
epitome of pop!
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
⭐️
**Step I -⭐️
As you can see I have used a ⭐️above
(we can use any character/number /alphabet)
Step 2- use return key
Step 3- The poem in asterisk , which remains the same
for
italics
bold
bold-italics
Step 4- use return key
Step 5- again the character(⭐️) it could be anything
And there you get the poem in desired fonts .
I tried this in my drafts on Hp and yes it works .
Happy posting**
⭐️
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
Oh how I love concrete poetry!
Itching to write and sculpt and mould.
Twiddle my thumbs as I thought to myself silently.
Reckon I'd render my musings in italics and in bold!
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
30 days of concrete, wouldn't you fancy?!
These poems, they come in various shapes.
Would you consider them "poetic eye candy"?
If I fashioned poems to look like grapes!
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
Awashed with excitement!
I can't wait to share!
Fantastical, delicious and ultimately succulent!
A wonderful spread of such wordy fare!
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
When is this... GREAT BIG AFFAIR?
On the morrow, I'll dish out the first serving!
Do tune in if you so do care...
30 days of concrete! The shape fest is beginning!
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
stethoscope to this chest reading one of these "dubs"
as captions to italics sometimes, we lead
too patient lives, one as receptive the second as disruptive
covertly, convertedso to alleviate, vindicate
these dial tones
exchanged -so to compliment- verses in the clarity
of LP vinyl tracks
posture within degrees
to hear a “Hello?”
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 2:14 PM UTC
You weave your stories like the night,
stringing the moon with the stars;
the finest of pristine pearls,
threaded by twilight.
Weaving the finest Varanasi silk
with life as your celestial loom;
laying down gold- and silver-threaded brocade,
dormant gardens burst in bloom.
Your pen is the philosopher’s stone
turning lead hearts into gold;
manipulating structure in stunning stanzas,
inscribing on hearts in italics and bold.
Nodding in acquiescence
the sages of the ages,
will then add your magnum opus
to their papyraceous pages.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
skipped the chapters in the book of love
you on page one
swang from the rafters with the morning dove
rise the evening sun
my letters were bolded
yours were second best to none
more italics and stressed sentences
you a peaceful minded friend
more than previous pronoun
promised to the end
you on stages of laughter
agreement to disagree
me, i went past the laughter
straight fits of arguing
apologies and sorries
lead me into these trees
promise not to skip the page without you next to me
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
I computer
Woken, I push my start button and reboot to the shower
For breakfast a bowl of italics, **** no milk, memory needs upgrading
Then to my automated job in my automated life
My thoughts are in word ,then filed in documents
My moods change with every toolbar, features and characters
I choose daily from my vast database
At 8.59 and 58 seconds precisely I am surfing
That vast blackness of space, I am never alone
Our names are inscribed on the dark side of the moon
On the super highway at full throttle of 32mb
My attention was distracted by a **** blue from clip art
Suddenly I did not see a stationary font (size 28)
After the crash they laid me out on a spreadsheet
My life deleted, my soul sent to the recycle bin.
Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 8:43 AM UTC
my feelings are the splattered inks
bold, italics
threatening to spill
weighing on every meaning
words could carry
scrambled up, juggled
those who’ve yet to feel
shall not speak
and pray tell, words
do you realize what you amount to?
what’s behind was for a reason, a person
clear as day, solid reverie
what lies beneath shan’t remain between the lines
and if it reaches you, we’re alike
Sep 27, 2022
Sep 27, 2022 at 7:01 AM UTC
Writing always seems more urgent
When it's written in italics,
Even when the topic,
Is rather mundane.
Consider this example:
I like to eat sandwiches
Furthermore, everything
Seems much more urgent,
When written in bold font,
We revisit the example:
I like to eat sandwiches
...and a step even further,
Writing seems absolutely
Crucial when written in,
Bold font, with caps-lock,
Once again, we recapitulate:
I LIKE TO EAT SANDWICHES
At this point, it seems as though
I am imparting unto you matters
Of the utmost severity, that could
Be the difference between life and death,
...but really, I just like sandwiches.
This amuses me.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 7:48 AM UTC
My thinking is in bold,
but my words in lower-case.
She dreams in italics,
but,
unfortunately,
speaks in CAPITALS.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
An open letter
to those poets
who align
to the center:
*When prose sits in the middle
it resembles gift-card drivel.
It cheapens your work;
your use of italics irks.*
Choose a side.
I don’t care if it’s
left or right,
Or center-right
or alt-right
(whatever that is).
The indecisive
have a lot to answer for
us being divisive.
Did that centered
poem you wrote
distract you from
casting a vote?
Stop fence-sitting
in-between
and enjoy a
splintered 2017,
from one side.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
We being so hidden from those who
Have quietly borne and fed us,
How can we answer civilly
Their innocent invitations?
How can we say "we see you
As but-for-God's-grace-ourselves, as
Our caricatures (we yours), with
Time's telescope between us"?
How can we say "you presumed on
The accident of kinship,
Assumed our friendship coatlike,
Not as a badge one fights for"?
How say "and you remembered
The sins of our outlived selves and
Your own forgiveness, buried
The hatchet to slow music;
Shared money but not your secrets;
Will leave as your final legacy
A box double-locked by the spider
Packed with your unsolved problems"?
How say all this without capitals,
Italics, anger or pathos,
To those who have seen from the womb come
Enemies? How not say it?
2k
the names of all the things here
were given post creation
a redaction full of contents unrelated
a conflated epithet
brightly shining atop screaming
gleaming
see me
understand what I'm trying to mean
in my leaning italics
referential and meaningful with research
as I lurch into your interest
ringing
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
Duly noted
and
show boated
A cross of
what you need
And what made
your belly bloated
Secretly promoted
Enthusiastically gloated
All for a piece of metal
Cold and gold coated
Humbly devoted
Bold Italics posted
Only to line the ranks
Heavy and revolted
Pepsi
and
Pop rocks
Shoved
in a mouth
Just to end up
Exploded
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
I'm in the bold.
He's in the italics.
"Well, you haven't spoken to me since xmas so I kinda figured you were done wanting to hear from me."
"Yeah, I regret that."
"I usually make it into people's regrets, oddly enough."
"Don't say that"
"I'll say what I want."
YOU LIAR.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 2:10 AM UTC
Crippled letters of mass destruction
Split my globe in two
A left hemisphere full of right handed clones
A right hemisphere brimming with sweethearts
It's so warm down south
Where fingers search
For life in the bog
Ah, there in the shallows
I found your frog
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
I've a particular bias
against words that don't conform to the way
that appears beautiful to me
Works that are right-justified
or unjustified
or rhyme too much (or little)
even just using bold or italics
I'm amazed at how I call what I make poems
and therefore myself a poet
and find nearly no pleasure in most poetry
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 4:40 PM UTC
The boys, the boys, they can't help but stare at her
as she's talking, she's walking in iambic pentameter
She breathes in italics
Words fall from her lips
San-serif movements
Punctuate her hips
She writes, she paints, her dreams soak the paper
such beauty, such beauty, my willpower waivers
Her eyes tell a story
in which I want to belong
Only she knows the ending
as she has all along
I wish, I want, a new story to start
with her, with her, with all of my heart
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 8:05 PM UTC
Before Old Charon
I now stand
A bushel of berries
for this ferryman
The guardsman of fate
expresses his guilt
For the broken promises
he has spilt
forget the italics
of my brash remark
ford the wide styx
sings the deathly lark
a limerick of longing
hollows my mind
the verbal flogging
hardens my heart from the kind
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
Pushing breaklights,
before jumping over the crown,
Taking drags,
in italics (makes us look like we down).
Slouching over countertops,
while hard water drops,
dreaming of minerals,
while the Blacksmith takes benedryl.
Receiving kicks,
from the ends of steel-toed boots,
act a champ,
he winks (we're in some sort of cahoots).
Tattooed blackeyes,
(don't wanna **** with these guys),
cool-kid-alert!
snorts lines in the dirt.
Back with a vengeance,
watching Batman and Robin,
breaks dishes,
because his headache is throbbing.
And I look and I see,
and it occurs to me,
and I forget the rest,
because it feels the best.
And, I left my dad's gun under my bed.
Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 6:48 PM UTC
Kiley in italics
Just Kyle in regular text
Spencer and Kyle in bold
And so it begins...
At poets I laugh
Silly boys with their rhyming
here I sit smiling
gracefully moving
She smiles at my poem
I smile at hers.
She burns all my books
I cry all the time, never over
She is my new fav
I cry when books burn,
Angrily **** those who burn
Even my new faves
She giggles all day
*try to **** but always fail*
She will live forever
None live forever
Though the war will never end.
We're back in the game
You silly little
youngster and second class guys
I will always win
Powerful, she is
yet she has less "class" than we.
She cannot beat us
two plus three is five
Indeed, but two men do not equal
that of one woman
In their clutter'd brains
Women make odd equations
that just make no sense
men cannot add things
men will never understand
the ways women speak
When girls start to speak
All we hear is rabble ra-
bble rabble rabble
Open up your ears
You have lost this game today
*I'm done and win, *****
Kiley exits
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 3:43 PM UTC
(Note: the italics are the narrators thoughts)
Dearest Love,
Are you okay all alone?
I miss you with all my heart.
*No, I miss you with all the hearts in the world
you are the only fish in the sea for me.*
I love it here in paradise. I just wish it wasn't for work.
I hate it here with all my heart. I dread the lack of your presence.
If only you could see the sky as the sun sets.
It reminds me of your eyes, and I cry everyday.
I hope the distance didn't cause you to forget me and pick another lover, just kidding. I know you wouldn't do that.
You wouldn't... right... cause if you did, I'd die.
Well anyways dearest love, I hope to see you soon.
I'll book tickets for you now, even if it takes my life savings just to see your face.
I wish you were here.
Love,
More than any quantity of love imaginable.
Your one true love.
I hope...
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
let me love you like a storm,
dark,
dazzling,
domineering,
I can be your very own tempest,
I will sweep you off your feet,
I will take you to oblivion,
and love you like you've never been loved before.
I could break you,
like cracks in fine china, I
could break you,
all of you,
till you are,
nothing,
and you will love me for it,
and you will be broken in the most beautiful of ways.
I could kiss you,
I'll be your greatest pleasure,
my lips will hold yours with the promise of forever,
I will touch you like I am not meant to let go,
my fingers will splay algorithms as they explore the length for your torso,
You will hate me for it,
for make you feel this good,
but take heart my love,
one day you will kiss me,
and you will like it.
I could need you,
like barks need the north star,
I could be your star,
I will shine, and twinkle,
become yours like the careful ********** of promises,
I will never leave,
I will be constant,
consistent,
for as long as we are,
I will need you like the stars need the dark blue sky,
and some day,
when you love me back,
we will write our names in skies that stay blue,
and we will be our own forever,
stripes of dark brown and navy blue.
I can be your light,
your very own sun, wrapped in skin, bones, and tissue,
I can shine for you,
hot and passionate,
like the remnants of our love on the white fabric of our sheets,
I will heat you up,
all the way up,
but you will not tell me to stop because we love the pain,
and we will love, till it kills us, and marks us black and dark blue.
I will love you, like you are worth loving.
Every inch of you, like you are my life,
I will love with my soul,
I can be yours,
let me be yours?
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC