"lasers" poems
Science is a wonderful thing, it is
Science is here, there, and surrounding all.
From the mines below to the rocketships above
Technology surrounds us, one and all
We have mixed substances to make concrete
And use concrete to create our buildings.
Science is such a magnificent thing
And for a couple reasons you see.
Today, lasers that can destroy aircrafts
‘Morrow even colonizing planets
But one thing is true and one thing is real,
Science is really our true compassion.
As we search for extraterrestrials
As we look towards spatial expansion.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
"Getting sick of married life?
Tired of your ageing wife?
Well, you can create her face anew
With plastic skin and pink tissue!"
"Yes, in only three short days,
She'll be worthy of your praise.
Just send a cheque to this address
And trust us, friend, we'll sort the rest!"
The bill-boards scream in the night
As wolves in the canopy.
Like lasers, they seethe and cut
Through the diamonds of your wet eyes,
Convincing you all too soon that
You are not already perfect.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
An ocean splashed the sky;
clouds little boats for angels to
reel in stars upon will; their gills
glow for human eyes to scope-out
and connect the dots, one by one.
The moon a forest for the alien
gophers; burrowing amongst its
craters, feasting on passing comets,
and yet; we fail to see.
A rainbow, for the giants after their
grievances, sprout a smile on
mile-long faces, as the days got harder
to stay sunny.
Drear for the shadows, the little
rats of the night, hissing at morn
and hurting, shrinking as
golden lasers black-
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
We were the mystery
We were the shaking of heads
We were the whispers in the bathroom at 11 am
We were the smoke in the hallways
We were the leaves catching on air currents
like "I don't care how or why but I'm going somewhere"
We were balled up bills in the crook of
someone's sweaty Xanax palm
We were the lamps at night burning
We were the lasers on the ceiling
We were the lines of chemicals waiting on the counter
We were nothing good
nothing but mud and regrets on our feet
The teachers shook their heads
wondered to themselves how we ever got to sleep
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
"The thought of the future we will never have was pollinating foul fuzzy particles in the air, slowly following the wake of all those tasseled dreams I had held onto for all those years but had to let go."
The most intimate revelations can often expose plagiaristic suppressions that we've most likely tried to already forget. Suggesting to anyone on the outside looking in, that there is a rancid cowardice secreting from the pores of all those who would deny the most basic of fundamental decencies to their fellow man.
All the while, boasting a loud tolerance that would be found on the very last Autumn-the very last colorful arrangements of watering oranges and smothered reds our world was ever going to be privileged to witness again.
The thundering drumming of my own beating heart gave my freshly dead and bland reaction a neon personality, with a few extra ********* lingering, successful gestures that reflected a sparkly prism of tracers.
Tracers that were birthed from the most brilliant of lasers, as I was radiating something that was blindingly gorgeous, something that was heightened with more sensitivity as it shadowed over the complexity of every kiss that I had ever been given in my life..
Spinning a silk and gold web around me that was almost as intricate as an alarm sounding earth quake.
This flaccidly tight response came at a price, leaving nothing but whispers and the wrong kind of impressions at the sight of it's unwanted face..
The time of dignity and grace felt decades away as your tiny little temperaments began to attempt to soothe me into a very still silence.
"Wooing" me and "seducing" me with such a strong touch of romantic readiness, I knew it would never be matched or found again causing me to feel a stroke of sadness at the single sentiment.
This dramatic departure killed any interest that might have supported the abortive sorrows and short winded elation’s of men, but instead the idea of a possibly new tasseled dream, sparked me into a shimmering prism bouncing glittering, glimmering, glowing rays off my skin, as I put the shine in the sun.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
I provoke the rain of Hell
From Heaven high to earth below
There we'll float on gainful spells
We're ready for this world to go
And off to outer space, we're facing
Endless races to the furthest reaches of our teacher, the speaker, the logos of Cosmos
And beyond to distant Quasars,
No phasers, no lasers, weaponry
We're safe with hearts of purity
And naked with our souls we'll seek
The greatest cosmic mysteries
I've always sought and thought unreal
The spacecraft not of stone or steel but
Opened hearts and focused spirits
Woke by times both strange and fearful
Changing basic notions of
What we all say are mind and love
We're through with consumers, they've doomed us
We've moved on
The proof is the truth that all life will soon be gone
We've built and built, killed billions and still
We march toward gold archways which never were real
I can tell others feel it,
They're real and they heal me
Relations, creations, spontaneous meaning
It's all building up to a climactic moment
Of high expectation that we will all blow it
But we were born just so we'd know when the opening
Ceremonies go on for the New Age of Hope
It's outrageous to think of the hate which created this
Darkness and chaos,
(Our God has betrayed us!)
But that's why our savior said
Look the other way,
To meet hate with more hatred
Speeds up the decay
We love the villains, though they **** us by millions
Because they're truly a part of this cosmic cotillion
They can't see the dance while they're
Crashing and sinning
So they can't imagine they're actually IN IT
There's a part and they fit it,
Catalyst for the equipment
Of Salvation:
The nations of women and men
Beginning again
We'll cancel the debt and we'll all become friends
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
There were flashing lights,
lasers, where we met.
There was loud music
and cheap drinks.
I found myself with the three of you,
only one of whom I'd met before.
That was the year I only wore plaid, mostly.
I was protesting make up at the time,
a leftover idea from my two year flowerchild period.
You were arrogant as ever,
self involved ****
with great taste in music.
I remember in all the conversations that followed
you'd compliment my impeccably perfect playlists.
I digress.
You stayed away from me that night,
let me hit on your friends.
But you got me that shirt.
I still wear it.
I had forgotten that night for over a year.
Even when I saw you next,
I didn't remember you.
I didn't remember you
and that has always bothered me.
I don't forget people.
I just don't.
Especially since it was both our first night out with that crowd.
You remembered me though.
And I'll never know why
I forgot and you remembered.
But now you forget me,
and I never shall forget you.
I promise you I'll never forget you.
And if you recall,
I don't break my promises to those I love.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Signs point in different directions
Art>
<Science
History^
Oddities¿
Art:
Every memory of every sunrise
Every beautiful melody
Here.
And so many images of her.
Some sweet
Some candid
Some sad.
How can we revel in the joyful
Without knowing it's opposite?
Every delicate poem
Every lyric yelled
Every painting
Every sculpture
And in all of them,
Her.
Science:
Models of molecules
Diagrams of data
Sketches
(Where are the equations?)
Math is forbidden in this museum.
Lectures
Theories
All gathering dust.
History:
Names.
The greatest of men and women
Julius Caesar
Constantine
Marc Anthony
Cleopatra
Rosa Parks
Elinor Roosevelt
Patton
Churchill
Kennedy
MLK
Maps and charts
Famous cities of old
Sparta
Alexandria
The halls of Montezuma
Constantinople
Babylon
Oddities:
Phantom Kangaroos
Homemade Bazooka
"That made the news?"
And Bubblegum the Baluga
The Raven Empress
Flaming mattress
Sharks with lasers
Pandas with Tasers
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
The flames were so high, Byron was fighting hard against them, to no avail."Megan"!,"Megan"!, screaming her name, he felt engulfed, and light headed.A thousand thoughts raced through his head, panic, seering pain with every breath he took, call an ambulance, Megan,s screams cut through him like lasers, she was trapped, scared, how must she be feeling right now?
Wood crackled, metal creaked, echos, lights, sirens!
Byron jumped, bolt upright in bed,"O **** SHIT",another nightmare, each one bringing his memory closer to what happened in their cottage they had built together.
Byron was working from Leeds, commuting to Killough, his favourite village in Ireland, well, it had to be, it's where he and Megan had met. He'd planned to run the architecture business from home.HA!, home, where was that?, he wasn't sure anymore.
As Byron strolled into the bathroom, turning on the shower he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.Almost forgetting the scars he had aquired from the fire, those visible reminders that his electrician was skimming from the funds, cutting corners, greedy little ******* The sight was gone from his right eye, and his face bore severe scarring right down to the collar bone. A small price to pay, at least he made it out alive.
He made a mental note to get back to Killough, this very night, to see Megans grave.He'd settle for anything, any reminder of Megan, she was slipping away from him, he couldn't have that, ever...another reason for moving to Killough.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 7:11 AM UTC
I’m a functionally depressed person.
I’ve self-diagnosed myself as this
Because severe depression makes
Me feel like I should be lying
Around my house all day and
Although I’d rather wrap myself
In the blankets of my bed,
I push myself out into the day.
Dressed in an outfit that’s not
Sweatpants and a t-shirt, but
Instead, jeans and a sweater.
Long sleeves to cover the cuts
On my arm, or many bracelets
With no colors that match my
Outfit but they cover my
Self-inflicted wounds from
The night before.
I fake a smile at people
That I pass by during the day
And I hope that they can’t
See through my eyes and into
My head. I hope they can’t read
The suicidal thoughts swimming
Around, filling the lack of serotonin
That I’m missing from my brain.
Their eyes feel like lasers shooting
Into my brain like bullets that I dream
Of releasing from the chamber
To settle in my head.
I’m a functionally depressed person
Because I function in society
Without anyone knowing that
Inside, I’m already dead.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 5:51 PM UTC
In seeps life’s deeply rich hypnotic alluring tune.
Throngs of pitch tickled with powerful eminent bass.
Crisp sounds displayed, tweaked, collaged, and delectably consumed.
Stretching our ear’s vast hungering palette to please.
Vibrations lead to the tingling mind’s inevitable response.
Guiding the body through its purity of sound.
Hums and hisses overshadowed by the DJ’s track.
Lasers lights dance over the vast sweating fans.
The floor is a rhythmic sea of flesh.
Dance steps balanced by the DJ’s meticulous craft.
Tears of joy creep upon the dancers faces.
As bodies succumb to the vibrant enchanting mix.
This truly is an ideal moment of bliss.
Having one’s mind captured by a DJ’s tryst.
The mind thrives forever from their musical kiss.
As fans dance the night, refusing to miss.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
Stripped, naked. Flesh, raw.
Eyes burn like lasers, though you are bare.
The light: “a” light illuminates your limbs.
Its gleam reflects each angle of your body.
A nod of the head and there intent is set.
The stroke of a brush, a flicker of lead.
An artist’s projection upon the canvas.
You are: living, breathing and true.
Each curve invites inquiry; of shadow or shade?
Minds race to undress you further,
they peel at your skin.
Attention averts, bound by the three dimensions of your being.
On a pedestal you stand. Flushed and raw.
Though scrutinized and scanned, they cease to see you.
Simple minded are they,
foolish and dull.
The light grows dim.
Squinting with strain, they cannot grasp you.
You laugh and grin
…
Warmth melts your play-dough skin,
as a light illuminates from within.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 3:42 PM UTC
Take me back to the days
When we were artists
With the clouds as the paint,
With the sky as the canvas;
Who sang their hearts out
In front of the electric fan
Which became the microphone and auto-tuner.
Take me back to the days
When we were adventurers
Who ran outside after morning showers to
Find the end of the rainbow
Hoping to meet a fellow
Who can grant our greatest wish
That tomorrow would be sunnier than today;
Who balanced between life and death
Every grocery shopping with our mothers
As we carefully tried to avoid the lines of the tiles which
We believed was made up of deadly red lasers.
Take me back to the days
When we were heroes:
Scientists who calculated the intensity of the rain
In the race of raindrops that
Roll down the car window
In the pouring traffic jam.
Ninjas who would wake up early to
Catch the floating dusts that swim in the sun's rays
When you open the curtains of the wide window.
Generals of an army who built
Mighty forts of cotton and feathers and
Found safety beneath warm pillows and sheets
On dark and windy nights.
Take me back to the days
When we were
Engineers,
Doctors,
Politicians,
Pilots,
Astronauts, and
Teachers
Take me back to the days
When we were
Who we wanted to be.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 3:38 AM UTC
I hate to break it to you but heroes like Superman, and Batman, and Spiderman don’t actually exist.
But that doesn’t mean there aren’t heroes in this world, they just aren’t in capes and spandex. They can’t fly or shoot lasers from their eyes. They can’t lift a car with one finger and they aren’t affected by kyptonite. These heroes are people you pass every day, you may speak to them, and you may not. But they are there.
The 18 year old kid who takes care of his brother when his parents leave and decide not to come back he is a hero.
The 9 year old boy who saved his friend by pulling him out of an icy lake, is a hero
The mother that decides to leave her husband and take her kid with her when he starts hitting them, she is a hero.
Those who stand up for what they believe in, are heroes
The little girl who used the Heimlich maneuver (which she saw on a disney channel show by the way, see disney can teach us useful skills) to save the life of her 1st grade classmate who was choking on an apple, is a hero
Every friend that will drive to your house at 3 am because you are home alone and you are scared of what you might do if you are alone much longer. Every friend that tells you that everything will be alright, and that you may be ******* up, but that doesn’t mean that you will always be that way, friends that remind you things can and will get better. Are all heroes.
The woman who caught a baby that fell out a window is a hero.
The firefighter who risked everything to save a little girl or little boy is a hero.
The men and women in blue are heroes... Or they are when they aren’t shooting innocent people...
Or the man who broke his neck and had to give up the career he had done his whole life, but then turned what could have been a devastating change into an opportunity to follow his dream and is now happier than ever because he realizes that life is too short and can end too quickly to be unhappy, and now he is one of the strongest, funniest, most joyful person I’ve ever met. He is a hero.
Or the woman who went back to school after her divorce and now is happy and able to not only support her self but also her family.
These people are real life true heroes, not some made up ******** with super powers. Because you don’t need to be able to fly or see through walls to be a hero.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
Where were you, you little *******
Where were you hiding
As I turned out the lights last night?
Were you in the closet as I came into the bedroom?
Did you seep like a flood
Across the floor in the darkness
Rising up the leg of the bed
And into my ears like liquid toxic waste?
Were you under the pillow
And as my fingers slid under there
Between the crisp, smooth layers of white cotton?
Did you coil about my fingers
And up my arm
To spread over my scalp
All fuming-acid corrosive?
Were you in under the folds
Of the welcoming, white-striped comforter
As we turned in after a perfectly pleasant day?
Waiting, still, in the dark
As I pulled the blankets up taught?
And just below my chin
As the cold sheets around me warmed
To stop the just-into-bed shivers?
Did you crawl up then as I dozed
And twist around my throat
To tighten slowly until I awoke in your grip?
Where ever you were hiding,
You got the drop on me.
You turned the tiny dim lights
That peek into the room at night
Into piercing lasers.
You amplified the tiniest odours
Into dizzying, eye-watering stenches.
You traded the rising-sun's rays
As they finally pierced the curtains
After my hours of sleepless discomfort
For a blasts of neutron-bomb radiation.
Worst of all
You stole the cool, soothing side of the pillow
Every time I managed to find it
Giving me instead a sickly, warm bundle of gorse.
Where were you, you little *******
Where were you hiding?
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
just let that ******* bass drop.
and throw in those lights as well.
definitley some smoke.
lasers too.
maybe a few LED screens.
or ten.
or twenty.
or just one that fills the entire stage.
that's cool i guess.
paid a **** ton of money.
i want a ******* trip.
i want my ears to ring.
her *** to bounce.
fifty thousand fists to pump.
in perfect unison.
like it means something.
those girls with fake flowers adorning their heads.
all of the bright, like a feast for the night.
the glitter. the paint.
the airborne cake.
.
.
like it means something.
this scene will continue to grow
because nobody knows
what it set out to do in the first place.
big lights and pop hooks.
small pills and good looks.
now you're one of us.
no knowledge required.
the music plays
without you
on stage.
deafen me.
defeat me.
alive.
this is what it means to be.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
shapes of yr many most favorite possessions
people looming in the lintel browsing through the pockets
yr posthumous stare chisels down the bark
280 & Alpine
taking out the post
east alto, west alto
sandwiches and snickers bars
let there be pizza
where beds happily move
and there are no swing sets or cell phones
let there be pizza
eighteen year olds swinging from the rooftops to the pool
no music played to remember it by
yr handlers are too many now
lost in the green lasers and spotlights
there are only two hands to make this memory
the quiet dark does not take it, new mouths do not take it
old words tearing off the night
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
Hold hands and dance together.
Open your mouths and sing in unison.
Blink and allow your tears to hit the soil.
Watch the sunset resemble a softer shade of crimson.
Shape shift and make funny faces.
Wide spread and cover any spaces between.
Draw streaks and form inedible cotton candy.
Make the ever changing weather patterns your creed.
Partner with the drum player.
Hire the trumpets as well as the whistles.
Throw in a bit of lights, some lasers too.
Gather a silent choir of particles, should I call it bristle.
Welcome the darkening sky.
Make way for the approaching moon.
Take long naps or read each other books.
All the while waiting again for the return of noon.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 1:41 PM UTC
Bedroom barriers
Radiate
Vintage idolatry
Pining protoplasms
Levitate
Wizardry
Nimble fusion peaks
Passion howls
Velvet vanity
In unison we touch
Multilateral we twine
A fluorescent collage
Lasers
© 2012 (All rights reserved)
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC
"Be calm"-
I was laying flat in a bed.
My palms-
Shaking and my face is red.
Listening to looped white noise.
I had ping pong ***** taped to my eyes.
Red dot lasers pointed in the center of each.
The method we used to help me lucid dream.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
Before air became gas
And water waste;
Before light became lasers
And fireworks cannons;
Before cars got wings
And trucks got tracks;
Before rafts were raiding ships
And we breathed underwater;
Before sticks were arrows and spears
And we exalted ourselves;
Before Empires rose and fell
And rose and fell,
A femur crushed Cro magnon's skull.
It's a marvel
How any of us
Are here
At all.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
It’s a hot summer afternoon, perfect in every way,
A time to enjoy and relax, loll about and play.
But the afternoon’s long shadow of darkness makes it clear,
That for a particular group of students, disaster is near.
And this unfortunate bunch march into a hot class that noon,
With filled stomachs and eyes full of blissful slumber,
But still, there is a sense of impending doom in the air, and soon
The class will have to face up to a nightmare they fear.
Then at half past one a man walks in,
He smiles and says,“ good afternoon, class, lets begin!!”
The sir then starts his physics lecture,
Much to the students agony and dismay,
And while they curse and snarl silently like a mangled cur,
They wish they had never lived to see this day.
And in no time the teacher sends out a barrage,
Of “physics”, from lasers to parallel rays, characteristics of a coherent light source,
Reflection, Wein’s displacement, sinusoidal wavefronts and an electron’s charge,
He shouts his voice out till he goes hoarse.
I too, as part of that class, try,
To make sense of the gibberish spoken,
But its hopeless, I give up with a sigh,
I doubt his explanation could be understood by the smartest of men…
And in the sweltering heat of the afternoon, with the lecture being a bore,
The students just can’t listen to him, but can certainly do a lot more…
And within minutes of the lecture the class is in its own world,
Where life by quantum physics is not obscured…
Boys start throwing paper pellets at one another,
While mocking the teacher behind his back,
Meanwhile the girls giggle and nudge each other,
Laughing at the jokes they crack.
And oblivious to all that is going on around him,
The teacher goes on to say why the LEDs glow dim.
And I am caught, in a whirl,
Of various activities all around me,
And while I pen down a poem, think about my favorite girl,
I am amazed at the sight I do see…
The class becomes more and more unruly, falling apart,
And at a certain point it is too much and hence,
The sir stops talking about the critical value, and does start,
To take the class’s attendence.
No sooner is the roll call done that the herd stampedes out,
With many a push, a yell and a shout.
The same phenomena will occur again next week,
Isn’t it an example of college life at it’s peak?...
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 10:42 AM UTC
If you're ever part of secret government testing
or your irradiated with cosmic power
or you fall into a vat of mysteriously glowing chemicals
you don't get superpowers
you're not bulletproof
your spidey senses won't tingle
you won't be nine feet tall and made of stone
you won't move things with your mind
or tear your shirt when you get mad
no blades to snikt from your knuckles
no eye lasers
no supersonic screams
you'll get sick
lose all your hair
cough up blood
liver will fail
yellow skin
sunken eyes
Eventually you won't wake up
and maybe your girlfriend will cry.
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 8:46 PM UTC
my eyes are heady **** bloating
from within the sun
white embellishment lasers out
lending provision
setting life to the organic cog and clock
provoking muted growth to retch a bloom
leading
spending
seeding
my tread destroys nothing
each step frictionless
patterning little hovering eddies
a fraction above ground
minimal is my disruption
enough only to promote a deeper observation
tender fanning of the life that i am fawning over
how to feel this spritely at all times ? t'would be a spell
a fondled thing
it’s from our night of shared tether
our infection threw out an extra pleasurable souvenir
it carried its energy into the ensuing day
i am launched affection
beckoned into the true employment of my surroundings
carrying my socks and shoes in one hand
and my heart? it is a possession of the senses
i am truly led
i am emitting
Nov 4, 2022
Nov 4, 2022 at 9:44 PM UTC