"kelvin" poems
Though the; core of the earth can be measured in Kelvin
What happens on the surface is a negative hell man.
Its a; cold world that we live in
From the government, law enforcement, and politicians.
Everything you do, where you go is like your swimmin’
Piranha on you tail take everything you've been given.
Through the gutters we roam in search of new beginnings.
Man; is this life we live really worth livin’?
Just to find out the when, where and how of your ending?
It’s a; cold world that we follow.
Pushers giving you pills and telling you to swallow.
The pills of conformity, we all had a taste.
Some just got addicted so they feigning for that 8.
Nose stuck on the internet searching for conspiracies.
Illuminati, JFK the whole entire industry.
The media’s agenda is the way we all proceed.
People tread the tail cause they all afraid to lead.
Probably afraid to bleed, to impede on the culture.
Well now it’s time to feed, swarm down hungry vultures.
It’s the; cold world that got us dying.
Fight for your beliefs and end up in an asylum.
You ain’t even gotta riot, to be quiet is a sin.
Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir. Amen
That’s the story that they preach.
Subliminal, under the surface.
Nobody knows the truth so it all seems perfect.
Well...
Does it all seem worth it?
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 12:49 PM UTC
Hello there great friend, boo.
I didn't mean to leave you, to shoo.
But i just didn't know what to do.
One fine day i was scrolling through,
Then bo ding, you messaged me dude,
You mocked me laughed at me,you cut through,
Cut through my heart, i just had to subdue,
***** you replaced me,
I can replace you too,
you didn't mean it, but ***** I do.
You happy? What your drama caused you?
That's it you committed the taboo,
You just had to,
You messed with Kelvin, he messes with you too.
****** don't come crying back, go back to your idiotic crew,
**I got my friends now, ***** hope you got your's too.**
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:49 AM UTC
that's kelvin.
27.3 minutes of silence on a park bench.
following the same conversation that ends with
you're changing.
when did i smoke?
i always ******* lie.
and sadness is not the forest but the axe.
it isn't your locked door but the stairs or the hallway.
sadness is the butterfly and the windshield colliding
and telling yourself that you didn't see it hit or hear it quietly thumping.
it is not sorry feeling, it is guilt.
sadness is the building and the wrecking ball
and sometimes i'm both.
it is my cold nose and toes,
but i am not a blade of grass or a river,
i am the dinner that gave you poison
rather than another notch on your belt.
sadness is not black and white,
it is a monotonous topaz.
sadness is 7:30 after 27.3 minutes in which flies
were more alive than i was.
27.3 minutes of disappointment,
of don't touch me,
of i can't see
every sporadic, insignificant thing is making me want to holler
and tear out my hair.
and withdraw into myself but
27.3 minutes of silence
does not allow for this.
instead i became a blinking statue
and the color turned from a yellow to a green
and suddenly i was being reached for,
but the hands were moving half in slow motion and half in apathy.
i don't think i wanted to be rescued.
i'm not a ******* damsel, or
at least that's what i thought i was telling everyone.
i can't think through that feeling
this feeling.
like 3am when all your friends are high and you're not.
like 3am when you remember you tried to give a *******
in the woods
while your phone was ringing
because you haven't shaved and they tell you they're disgusted.
and keep talking about it as if they didn't know you were talking about it.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
1933.15 kelvin.
The melting point of titanium,
and the temperature I'm sure
your eyes surpass,
because my heart is sinking
through the floorboards
and I'm melting in your hands.
Liquid metal should be a contradiction
because that is what I am around you.
A turbulent sea.
A placid puddle.
I only hope that I pool
in the nooks inside your chest,
and you find some way
to make me solid again.
Only you can make me solid
again.
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
I am not ferociously aggressive, but there are activities that I will not can not partake in.
I will not be a grammar-phile in poetry, for sometimes, a sentence just begs to end in a preposistion. Of.
I won't be the surrogate to the emotions you wish you had for me;
if you truly felt them, you would proudly show off the pregnancy bump, endure hours of painful labor and breastfeed those feelings until the inappropriate age of 2.
I refuse to lower my standards and waste any amount of any time with any man who can't appreciate:
sure, all men are created equally,
but over time they can warp, change into slight congruence, and then become foreign, rude, selfish.
(Not all, ofcourse, but some, and that sum is one not worth crying or trying for).
I will never lead a boy into thinking he has my thoughts or affection
for such a crime is critically and clinically cruel
and I do not have the scalpel or shears to perform such inhumane procedures and experiments.
I do not believe I will ever have total peace, because I do not think such silliness is worth truly worrying about.
I think I could do almost anything else, like spit poison or turn myself into an inside-out person,
or maybe even solve a math dilemma
but staying stable for too long would make my molecules freeze like zero degrees Kelvin,
and I would turn into paradoxical nothingness.
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
A cool as brother who didn't really
Say much
Ya present was felt without a touch and clutch
Each and every one of our hearts I tried not part
But the pain is hitting me so swiftly smoothly
Take slow sips of the Hennessy block out the hidden
enemies
See the spiritual entities telling
Me
It's gonna be a brighter day though the darker days
Seems to wanna stay and I ain't got time to play
But pay my dues got ghetto blues man didn't see the clues
Left me in a drought in a pout tears runnin'
Down my snout what is life really
About
Nothing but pain that drains things ain't gone be the
same
Though ya loved sports and music caught all
Of my quotes this is just a little
note
Let me clear the phlegm in my
throat
Not a gloat considered a goat as ya float
On cloud nine see the clock strikes pass midnight time for
moonshine
Feelin' in my own zone cuz one day ya hear and the
Next day ya gonneeeeeee
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 5:34 AM UTC
Heart beating like the RPM of a sleek **** racing car,
wubwubwubwub
drop the bass
my heart, with you
so fast it's still,
like zero degrees kelvin
and 100 degrees hot
in my pants.
Darling would it be obscene
if I told you that you make me scream?
In my dreams,
in my head
you and me for never dead.
Leaps of faith through hoops of fire don't amount to much my dear
unless you're scorched
charred
and blistered as a tender, succulent pig.
Weee weee weee
all the way home we sing
we dance
we drool and chain gang the whole lot of them to the wings of the pretty angel statues,
so rough and hard,
how do they fly?
But we do,
at any given moment, soaring and searching
and we tangle up the tarantulas in their trinity of turbulence
because my god we are for real.
May 10, 2012
May 10, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
Rise up little fire.
Can’t you feel the great heat within you.
You’ll never be missed in death if you never start to live.
The sparks scare me too.
We can’t control where we grow.
It wasn’t an accident.
It was out of necessity.
The universe needed our presence.
It has a service,
just one thing it needs from us.
In return, we live.
That in fact, is the requirement to live.
Loud. And with great force.
Crackle.
So that even the coldest phantoms can feel it.
Don’t be afraid to melt them.
It will hurt. But what other choice do you have?
Sizzle. Putter. *****
Never.
Build. Burn. Blaze.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
It’s almost gone, but you
don’t even know what it is.
Its capacity— degrees of freedom,
vibrational
rotational
translational,
its essence— energy
measured absolutely,
first by Kelvin.
So know when I say
I’m losing heat, I’m dropping
Kelvins, quantized packets
that could raise my voice
to jovial screaming, flail my arms
bobble my legs and work my tongue
around my lips, eyes lit like dynamite.
Temperature comes and goes
be careful not to lose your bonds,
double
triple
bonds building bridges
to your childhood,
your capacity to love.
We forget how to laugh
so hard we hurt our bellies
deafen our friends
and scare our lovers. We
forget that the public
is just full of people
and find our tongues
are slaves to only tasting.
So I just make sure I’m waiting
for that mechanical motion,
that disturbance to ride
through my every bond
that won’t be breaking
because I’m not rigid.
I’m making sure I’m ready
to vibrate, rotate
and *********
I’ll translate too.
I’m losing heat,
not degrees of freedom.
May 31, 2011
May 31, 2011 at 12:24 PM UTC
High speed collisions
Uncontrolled
Possibly a misnomer
When H & He
Hydrogen and Helium
At millions of degrees Kelvin
Find each other
As in a star
When H ... .. . im
And He ... .. . r
Find each other
Maybe it's prearranged
Controlled
This is free energy
A fusion of Him and Her
A marriage bond
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 2:41 AM UTC
There was cold boredom
And there was colder familiarity
And
Colder still
There was indifference
And I sat trying to light a fire
Only to find that my heart wasn't in it
I'd rather sit here shivering
Than conjure up tinderboxes
I don't have the energy
And, quite frankly
I'm tired of the flames
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
everyday starts at
273.16 Kelvin, 611 Pascals
my body still unsure what it wants to be
-no, scratch that-
still unsure what other people want it to be
1. with my parents
the temperature drops and the pressure rises
while they yellcriticizedemand
and suddenly i am ice
solidfrigidhard
stubborn as hell but ten thousand times colder
2. my best friend is the fire
sparking excitement in dark parts of my soul
and as we heat up together
i become free as air
the earth no longer able to keep me together
or hold me down
3. i am fluid around everyone else
freeform
shapeshifting until all they see is their own reflection staring back at them
intangible
slipping through hands like an eel that will shock anyone who gets close
and quietly destructive
slowly eroding the paperthin walls of their hearts and leaving behind nothing but canyons in my wake
solid liquid gas
common science says that it ends there
but you
you always remind me that there is a fourth state of matter
because when we touch it is like i can feel the electrons of negativity jumping off my skin
and when you kiss me
i could swear we are the plasma that the universe and stars are made of
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
All abuzz about a bee
The name’s Humble B. Bumble; welcome to my mall.
How do you do?
If there is anything that you need, I am sure we have it for you.
Need a fresh *** of honey to go with your food?
Not a problem, keep the bottle; I saved this one especially for you two.
Do you need to buy your honey something new?
Not a problem, all honey is good here, I can make honey too.
If you see something you like, I am sure we can find you a good price.
The sugar sure is nice; we just got this frozen stuff,
You won’t believe your eyes!
They call it ice;
It keeps the water cold
And you just need to add flavour to savour,
The refreshment of your soul.
Your honey’s no good here; the first drink is on the hive;
But I must insist after that, your wallet must appear
And please do not drink honey and then dive.
I will have the bar-staff make you something to drink
And when you are feeling all warm and fuzzy inside,
There is a quiet section for you to sit and think.
Only you can decide what will bee next on your shopping spree.
We’ve got ‘Beegee’s and Banana’ and ‘Our-army’ suits.
There is the Jumper Gotye fashion store
And Kelvin Flies if that is what suits you.
Gooey has more high-end goods, if you have got the honey to spend.
Whatever you need, you will find it here at the ‘All A Buzz’ Mall,
PO Box 3B, Fly Mile End.
If you live in the sky and want to bee a diner,
Then you won’t find a place that is finer.
If these syrupy sweets are not at all to your taste,
Maybe you could think about some bling for your wings?
We have the little shop of forgotten treasures;
I am sure we can find whatever you need or think,
Would improve your life. Our doors are always open to new idea’s!
We work through the night, to fit your clothes, right on;
If you need a refund, we will always bee right here.
Here, take my card and don’t forget to mention my name.
The middle initial stands for Bee
And Y’all Bee sure to have yourself a nice day!
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 5:34 AM UTC
When Kelvin threatened to cut my throat
I thought him a little stressed,
We’d known each other for twenty years
The first ten were the best,
But I was married to Jill back then
Way back before the divorce,
Then Kelvin lunged, and married her when
Our marriage had run its course.
He seemed to think I was jealous then,
He thought he had hurt my pride,
I thought that our friendship might be saved
Despite his second-hand bride,
‘Why would I want her back,’ I said,
Hoping to reassure,
But he obsessed and was quite distressed
Each time I came to his door.
‘Keep well away from my wife,’ he said,
As if I’d not had enough,
‘What do you think a divorce is, Kel?
I’m finished with all that stuff.’
‘You had your time, you should keep away,
I know that you want her still…’
‘As much as I’d want a hole in the head,
You have to believe me, Kel.’
But he just circled the wagons round
Trying to keep her from me,
I’d been quite happy to put her down
Then live my life and be free,
He’d never heard the old saw that said
That to make her yours, let her go,
If she comes back home, then she’s yours my friend,
But if not, she wasn’t you know.
I saw Jill out in the supermart
And her face was lined and drawn,
I tried to hide by the Brussel Sprouts
But she caught me up by the lawn.
She seemed determined to seek me out,
To see if I looked like hell,
Was disappointed when I looked round
And said I was doing well.
‘I’m not,’ she said, and a tiny tear
Appeared, to roll down her cheek,
‘He never leaves me alone, I fear,
I’ve been locked in for a week.’
I waved my hand, tried to get away
‘Your life is not my concern,’
Then she clung onto my arm and cried,
‘I don’t know which way to turn!’
And that’s when Kelvin himself appeared
And threatened to cut my throat,
It looked as if I had interfered
‘And that,’ I said, ‘is a joke!’
But Jill still clung to my arm beside
The beans, and packets of stew,
‘I wish we hadn’t divorced,’ she said,
‘It was so much better with you.’
You’d think a friendship of twenty years
Could overcome such a jest,
But Kelvin suddenly burst in tears
And beat a riff on my chest.
I’ll soon get over the broken ribs
And the eye, with a lump of steak,
But Kel’s still married to Jill, thank god,
That’s the icing on the cake.
David Lewis Paget
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
use your body ;
use it to put me to sleep .
the warmth of your breath on my skin ..
i have become a plant , taking in your carbon dioxide and making sugar that forms on my lips .
love is warm , but not as warm as you are ..
your hands are 200 Kelvin ,
and sometimes i have blisters in the morning when i wake up , if you have been there the night before .
love is cold , but not as cold as you are ..
your lips are far below freezing ,
and sometimes i become numb on my chest , and my mouth , and my neck .
love hurts me , but not as much as you do ..
but I have algolognia ,
and that pain transforms into instant pleasure as you bite , and pull , and pinch .
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
I love you, she says to Adam
I cherish you, she says to Steven
I will be yours forever, she says to Kelvin
I will die for you, she says to Nathaniel
I belong to you, she says to Daniel
Marry me, she begs Louis
when she carries Alex's seed...
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
What goes up will come in for a landing
The belligerent crash
I'm done trying
For the cushion of wheels spun in a coast to grace
There's too much doing
Every push has me slithering
Through the spittle of lies
Spurting from vicariously indignant mouths
In their search for how hard to work to work less
To help just enough
My naive and belatedly terminated youth
I blame you
More than the latchkey existence
Left to me to **** the boredem with hope
In spite
The breakdown anti-hero prays
For a time everything is a fire in the positive
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:05 PM UTC
Theres a man who walks around with a hole in his head( right through); You can see whats in front from behind him and whats behind him from in front. Sometimes I follow him so I can see whats up ahead. Funny thing is, he never turns to look as if he's being followed; I always turn and look, more often than not no ones there, but when there is someone there I can feel them, their stare burning into the back of my napper, he just carries on blissful.
One time I tapped his shoulder then darted ahead, that was the first time I'd had a look at what was behind. I stared right down the middle and right on through to the young school girl skipping behind him, then I quickly paced off to avoid arousing suspicion that I was in any way mocking his condition. Anyway, he caught up with me and passed me with a " How'd you do, young man?, to which I nodded nervously, then followed him further through the city.
We reached kelvin bridge, where he stopped about six feet ahead of me and sighed full heartedly, I almost felt the wind come out of him. He turned to me and winked, and then began laughing like a manic would prey, " Ohh ** ** ** Ohh you don't see it! Neither do I?" he either asked our told me, " but it's all ******* there, every last ******* bit: The junkie's carpet, the first time mothers first *** after quitting, the wheeler's turning, the dealers loot, its all ******* there, and its all us that see it". I looked over to see the soft crashes of the river below, the whispering breath of the wind shifting the old tree's around the banks, and thought " What the **** are you talking about?"
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
all grasses are standing tall-
full seed heads;
how I remember rolling
being at one; laughing-
with best friend Kelvin;
having the time of our lives
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
I decided one day
as a child of no more than seven
that when I grow up
and have children of my own
I will name my first daughter
Celeste
☽ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☽
My baby girl Celeste...
stardust shimmering in her black eyes
hair the color of red giants
Saturn's rings on her delicate fingers
comets coursing through her veins
constellations on her cheeks and collar bones
☽ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☽
She will daydream too much
but her teachers will understand
that she does not belong in this world.
Her laugh will be as brilliant
as glowing nebulae
flowing purple silk
trillions of miles wide
floating in the void
bursting with new life
If you make her angry
she will turn you to ice
2.7 Kelvin
crystallize your tears
make your breath
freeze
☽ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☽
But if she loves you
like she will love me
she'll never leave you
Because my Celeste loves you more
than the Sun loves the Earth
than black holes love the light
than galaxies love their stairs
and she'll love you until
the universe itself
stops
cold.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
I miss them
missed them
kissed some of them
loved all of them.
Holy ghosts
move the goalposts
when it suits them.
I'm listening to the fireworks
at least
something works in
broken Britain.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 4:31 PM UTC
I felt hot desire.
For a split second
Time stopped the moment.
All motion paused
As though the room had reached 0° Kelvin
All eyes, every focus locked,
Every being in awe
Of the grandeurous woman
Stepping in from the cold.
Shall I light her fire?
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 8:49 AM UTC
At the core of it
I see some more of it
and it hurts a bit,
but no more
than at the core of it.
There were many chances
that came my way
and come what may
I can no longer deny
my inaction in taking
them.
' some men have greatness
****** upon them '
some men don't even try
some men sit and wait for
the moment to happen
some men just die.
The mathematics of a
given situation
are to be found in
Einstein's equation
E=mc squared,
so we
shared responsibility
did our
duty to one's family,
had
faith in something other
than reliance on our fellow
man.
We're still here
the sky didn't crack
the moon never fell
and we're still here
what I do when I run out
of anything is to make do,
It's a crying shame that
make do couldn't be there
when I needed it to
be there,
but I'm through it
the sleepless nights
the
what if and might it could be
thinking it should be
but it never was
that's the core of it
a bore?
a bit
no longer toxic
still burning.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
wont get a red cent from me
(explained by following words you see)
No...not until the
bitter cold temperature,
sans iron maiden
(Polar Vortex) grips
Southeastern Montgomery County
(Perkiomen Valley) Pennsylvania
will this foo fighting
goo goo doll, beastie boy - hips
stir survivalist
wannabe contemplate
cracking on the heat,
no matter mine lips
might turn me, and
false teeth chatter
(even after taking them
out of my mouth)
as the mercury dips
way below degrees
(Centigrade, Fahrenheit,
or Kelvin) oh Lord
will passing thought eclipse
penumbra of mine
cerebral cortex reckon eyes,
the benefits to future
cryogenicists voluntarily becoming
(a frozen human
Guinea Pig) realize
zing molecular biochemical
behavior practically
comes to a stand
still, I surmise,
which cessation of
ordinary senescence buys
time until some
future age, when scientists
long since didst devise
strategies to approach immortality,
(viz keeping "live" body
electric factory completely
preserved), and get wise
to hidden secret to exorcize
death be not
proud, thus putting
funeral parlors out of business,
which astute morticians who espies
the future, and how
the quaint practice,
asper burial plots
(oh...so yesteryear),
and dramatically dies
down quickly giving rise
to the burgeoning enterprise
re: bajillion dollar franchise,
where death cab for cutie
offers ***** prize
a coffin (grateful dead set)
"feign" to eulogize.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC