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"lexicons" poems
Their interpretations are out in the public domain, either derivation serves. Long drawn Ethmolgy often over reaches, Random pretentiousness increases, until Lexicons are suppliant causing loopholes to lessen. trying to excogitate meaning !
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Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
Obeying the Rules
1342 “Was not” was all the Statement. The Unpretension stuns— Perhaps—the Comprehension— They wore no Lexicons— But lest our Speculation In inanition die Because “God took him” mention— That was Philology—
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Was not was all the Statement
On Monday you are sponges Squeezed empty by Pokemon tournaments and Supernatural Watchathons On Wednesday you are dictionaries lexicons of hyperbolic histrionics thesauri of sturm and drang and angsty angsty goodness But Friday you are IMDB airbenders and Fassbender and light bending across the sails of a ship bound for the unreal implausible impossible unnatural illogical while Monday you are rabid like word-eating mongrels and Wednesday you are 1930's radios spewing never-before-heard myths and mysteries but Friday you are careening between the moons of Jupiter ungrounded unfettered untethered unrealistic imaginative but Friday you are gone gone gone gone gone
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
. . . But Friday
When men are from mercury and not from mars It means women are from unmentioned galaxy stars When you give me your messages In multitudes of melodies & Curious cacophony of cranial codes Dare I decipher this disconcerted data In Massive mainframes of masked mental material Hidden honeysuckle hints buried deep within Lust covered lurking lexicons in libraries of linguistic whisper hints For Love innuendos in serpentine tongues Like a brainwave barrage by day & Titanium telepathy attacks by night You stop at nothing to remain in my sight I never told you I was from unmentioned galaxy stars   You’re a man from mercury and not from mars
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Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
Serpentine Tongues
The space between the notes from the piano and the thoughts in my head, Dancing for clarity, harmonious cooperation engage, thee I bade. For my posture poses inquiries as my pulse proposes answers And the prospect pulls eagerly at the corners of my consciousness.. Thrice kismet collide--Will, you, and I. A softer understanding to provide strength with ease, passion to separately seize, while love flows ever so free.
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Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:07 PM UTC
Lovers and Lexicons: Ceasefire Romantic
Still can't understand it, curse myself, its damning, I am just one man, I am Jonathan Fernandez, Consumed deeply in thought, stranded from the world, Cogitating by myself, along with my own words, I've escaped through notebooks, paper, pens, and lexicons, I've been driven madly and destroyed all that I've set upon, But these verses hold my cure, in it I find solace, These words turn my soul pure, I offer no condolence, Please excuse me if my mind decides to crash upon me, I try so hard to stay alive but I feel like a zombie, People stare and point at me, laughing cuz I'm different, I laugh cuz you're the same, I'm glad that we are distant. So I hold no regrets, I vow to never change, true I will remain, no matter if I'm sane, This is my domain, I've carved out my whole name, seared it deep in flames, to immortalize my fame. I just want to change the world, one person at a time, feel it in every verse rehearsed, deep in every line, I swear that I will do it if it's the last thing that I do, Even if I have to write tens of millions of haikus, Even if I have to write until the day I'm dead, Even if my arms fall off, I'll write them with my legs, I'll even write my own never-ending story, True poetry is dead? I'll restore its glory, My future's undecided, as fickle as the weather, can the weatherman, tell us that, turn us to a better man? Nothing's really certain, believe me when I say that. I know that painful truth, because it hurts my mind to play back, Speeding on the freeway, dawning on a new day, Getting hard to relate, this is new praise when you lose faith. Keep your head up, listen and embrace the somber silence, Take life for what it's worth and always keep on smiling. Cherish every minute, time keeps flying by, I swear I saw it ticking down, I hope it doesn't die. But die it must and die it shall, die it surely will, I write so many poems because words cannot be killed. My words will be here long after I'm dead, The only word I want's 'Forever' on my epitaph.
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Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 7:55 PM UTC
Infinite
Still can't understand it, curse myself, its damning, I am just one man, I am Jonathan Fernandez, Consumed deeply in thought, stranded from the world, Cogitating by myself, along with my own words, I've escaped through notebooks, paper, pens, and lexicons, I've been driven madly and destroyed all that I've set upon, But these verses hold my cure, in it I find solace, These words turn my soul pure, I offer no condolence, Please excuse me if my mind decides to crash upon me, I try so hard to stay alive but I feel like a zombie, People stare and point at me, laughing cuz I'm different, I laugh cuz you're the same, I'm glad that we are distant. So I hold no regrets, I vow to never change, true I will remain, no matter if I'm sane, This is my domain, I've carved out my whole name, seared it deep in flames, to immortalize my fame. I just want to change the world, one person at a time, feel it in every verse rehearsed, deep in every line, I swear that I will do it if it's the last thing that I do, Even if I have to write tens of millions of haikus, Even if I have to write until the day I'm dead, Even if my arms fall off, I'll write them with my legs, I'll even write my own never-ending story, True poetry is dead? I'll restore its glory, My future's undecided, as fickle as the weather, can the weatherman, tell us that, turn us to a better man? Nothing's really certain, believe me when I say that. I know that painful truth, because it hurts my mind to play back, Speeding on the freeway, dawning on a new day, Getting hard to relate, this is new praise when you lose faith. Keep your head up, listen and embrace the somber silence, Take life for what it's worth and always keep on smiling. Cherish every minute, time keeps flying by, I swear I saw it ticking down, I hope it doesn't die. But die it must and die it shall, die it surely will, I write so many poems because words cannot be killed. My words will be here long after I'm dead, The only word I want's 'Forever' on my epitaph.
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the panel of experts spoke in learned lexicons eager to evenly distribute Gaussian gesticulations I once struggled to understand I would crane my neck strain my brain to discern meaning from these learned men what was I seeking to understand from these crazy white people? The main point is uncertainty impossibility of correct correlation to improbability the rising risk of being sure VaR is trapped by history backward looking exploring efficient frontiers "misuse of VaR is the misuse of it" huh ??? *** its my mistaken belief that it is a useful indicator placing its value at risk such tautological inanity comforts and soothes Song Selection Sam Cooke What a Wonderful World NYC 10/10/10 jbm
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Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 3:28 PM UTC
VaR
I love you from the mountains, I love you from the sea. I love you full volume, and I love you the smell of change. For yesterday, tomorrow, today I love you never in that order. For today, yesterday, tomorrow I love you Forever beyond always. But  words shrivel and dry. My 'love' must travel many miles, Full dust and wind on face. My 'love' must penetrate your 'over' A thousand times a day. But  'love' finds 'over' amusing. It kind of laughs and shakes its head. 'love' knows  'over' is a product Of a lexicon long dead. Passion, promise, and pretense are so far removed from what was ever meant. Save my passion, Withhold my promise, and **** any and all pretense. Move in and out and up and down, But mostly move along.
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Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:05 PM UTC
Lovers and Lexicons: The Optimist's Suicide Note
Plethoratic memoria-- Este esta mi visión, Becoming pictures and scenes in my mind, As though from museums and movies. Intimacies abound within thought processes Incarcerated behind the bars of the prison cells Playing public transportation between the synapses. So many more words than are needed. Not enough words in the world. Words inspiring words inspiring The colors, the visions, vitality--swirl.
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Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:02 PM UTC
Lovers and Lexicons:"Between the Heart and the Synapse"
gargling laughter pours through hands and cloaks fingers in slippery oil so they slide helplessly around the pencil like a fly creeping up a car window only to thud back to the leather, but lexicons bloom like cancerous lilies   when the gentle flicks of the black letters kick a barbed ball into your lungs.
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Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
The Plath Effect
Because I've come to see what "we" mean, I can truly be me, for the first time as a man. As "we" the two of us own happiness. "We've" got a monopoly on joy; And "we" are as powerful As "you" and "me". Now that I'm not preoccupied by "us" I can focus on me. And now that there isn't an "us" to speak of, You can get to know you. There will always be "us's" and there will always be "we's" For you and others and others and me. "Us's" and "we's" Of you and of me. Of others, of self, and sharing in peace.
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Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
Lovers and Lexicons: On Us and We
Wrap me in thorns and set me ablaze Push me to see what hell I can raise Try me and tie me What efforts I mock Knock on my door Or break you, the lock Thunder and crash Again and again Asunder And number The efforts grown thin For the armor of mine Is the lexicons' s law And Forging of words Is The rapiers roar
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 7:01 PM UTC
Huberis
Such elegance ... Each syllable A pleasure ...... In every sense... Intellectual stimulence Lets our frontal lobes, Mingle with indulgence... The fragile side we so deftly hide.... Set to the wild to run free... . It's a broad point... A guillentine A lexicons Aphrodisiac.
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Jan 1, 2022
Jan 1, 2022 at 9:17 AM UTC
Peotry poetry
I’m barely holding the strings of reality together I close my eyes and I still see the silence enclosing My blood burns and boils without the option of an eruption Keep the skin taught like fragile emotions God has a plan Be ****** Tethering to an anchor cast into an abyss It may barely be perceptible When you trace lexicons Like ****** ticks But I’ve had enough of this
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
If The World Doesn’t **** You, It Tries To Leave You Broken Every Chance It Gets (personification of the intangible)
They said I was ‘queet’ I’d understand if you question perhaps this is special pet name between them and me? It's not the meaning from the urban tome dictionary of slang's common terms while I'd not object to this other gist it's not the meaning they had in mind. The explanation stems from origins 'mon amour, le seul que je chéris' I'll speak the words in my tounge 'my love, the only one I cherish'. Look south from the British Isles west of the Italian boot straight from the town of lights that blessed land across the sea. Now here in my arms, countries forgot they stated how they saw me 'mignonne' would be homeland word which meant naught to me, though now I know. Have you guessed my appeal to this special one expressed in a word beyond lexicons? this I know with all my brimming heart they are also cute, oh so queet, in my eyes. © 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170427.
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Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
I Was Queet
From dark Iniquities to open pleasantries What ever floats to the top of your dreams. A deep velvet crush? Could it be ? Or is it an obsession to hear Your arch nemesis screams'? A painful memory creates a loquacious bleed . Purest intent kept Protected or proclaimed Remains in the heart of one Whose pen flows from their veins Syntax in  ambivalence "hieroglyphic script" Mystic cryptic punny things Secretly lie in between ...... The lines Words for keys ..... Hypnotic reads these, Pains or pleasure awakes the mind Break the grind Treasure lexicons asylum mercurochrome for you soul Time to let go some healing words of your own ...... I love you poetry ..... This one's for you ......
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Nov 27, 2022
Nov 27, 2022 at 6:37 PM UTC
Let me in
I want to inscribe this piece with a red ink like the blood For I want people to know that I scribbled it from the depths of my heart Perhaps, they must discern the sacrifices that I make to mix these words into a cup like tea Or, let me write this piece with a black ink like the ***** blood For they must know that this came from the beliefs of a black man with history, values and culture to protect. Alas, someone must be willing to tell our story the way it was, is and will be For western civilisations have wiped away the classics of our time embossed and engraved on our hearts across the sea Or let me write these few words with the blue ink like we used to, For people reading this must know, like blue is to the sky, My writings cover the entirety of the human race. Wait, let me brew fine words from the lexicons of the old, for within their thoughts lies philosophies and secret elixir of life, immortality of the tongue. Wait, let me write this piece with the utmost level of sagacity, prudence and wisdom, for my children must grow to appreciate my intellect. I wish this piece  brings  some plagues to my desk, and a travelling ticket to roam the world So where and how should I start? Wait, I must make sure these arguments do not offend the big men and the highest For they clench the keys to my door of no return Wait, let me write about the contemporary issues in town, the trending news that all are discussing, for that will sell fast and put some few bugs in my pocket Wait, let me read wide and re-examine my dictions, for issues of copyright and plagiarism can cost me my lifetime savings. Wait, I must examine when and how I place my metaphors, ironies and oxymorons to fit in this piece, for literature students must study my works too. Wait, when the power comes back, prompt me, for I did not save the last paragraph I just typed. From the chest of a writer, comes the greatest dilemma of life, like Nelly or Kelly. Words that are sharp and powerful to divide the flesh from the bones. Within the chest are graving issues of national consent, issues that matters the most. From the chest of a writer lingers the verdicts of our time. Words that can make or unmake a nation. Arguments that have the potency to divide and unite the entire universe.  Peace and War.
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Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 7:02 PM UTC
FROM THE CHEST OF A WRITER
I want to inscribe this piece with a red ink like the blood For I want people to know that I scribbled it from the depths of my heart Perhaps, they must discern the sacrifices that I make to mix these words into a cup like tea Or, let me write this piece with a black ink like the ***** blood For they must know that this came from the beliefs of a black man with history, values and culture to protect. Alas, someone must be willing to tell our story the way it was, is and will be For western civilisations have wiped away the classics of our time embossed and engraved on our hearts across the sea Or let me write these few words with the blue ink like we used to, For people reading this must know, like blue is to the sky, My writings cover the entirety of the human race. Wait, let me brew fine words from the lexicons of the old, for within their thoughts lies philosophies and secret elixir of life, immortality of the tongue. Wait, let me write this piece with the utmost level of sagacity, prudence and wisdom, for my children must grow to appreciate my intellect. I wish this piece  brings  some plagues to my desk, and a travelling ticket to roam the world So where and how should I start? Wait, I must make sure these arguments do not offend the big men and the highest For they clench the keys to my door of no return Wait, let me write about the contemporary issues in town, the trending news that all are discussing, for that will sell fast and put some few bugs in my pocket Wait, let me read wide and re-examine my dictions, for issues of copyright and plagiarism can cost me my lifetime savings. Wait, I must examine when and how I place my metaphors, ironies and oxymorons to fit in this piece, for literature students must study my works too. Wait, when the power comes back, prompt me, for I did not save the last paragraph I just typed. From the chest of a writer, comes the greatest dilemma of life, like Nelly or Kelly. Words that are sharp and powerful to divide the flesh from the bones. Within the chest are graving issues of national consent, issues that matters the most. From the chest of a writer lingers the verdicts of our time. Words that can make or unmake a nation. Arguments that have the potency to divide and unite the entire universe.  Peace and War.
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