"logics" poems
Men and women are equal
None are above the other
In rights and respect
Equal
Men have strength yes
Yet it's women who endure
Men and women
Both are intelligent
As their brains made of the same matter
Biologically here equality stands firm
Differences of course are there
Yet minuscule
Appearances cast aside
Only few can be observed
Women and men
Both are sensitive and feel
Yet where women show it; display
Men conceal; pretend not to feel
Society kills
In tactics and ideas
Is where our message ends
For too often it's said to
Disregard the thoughts of women
Too dumb and feeble minded to be
Of Value and interest
Yet where there's Winston Churchill
The mastermind of Britain
There's also Elizabeth the 1st
The queen who beat the Spanish Armada
Hence with logics like this
Any notion of ****** inferiority**
Can be easily dismissed
As utterly ridiculous.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
Horrid and morbid, bitter, glittered and littered memories! Automotives, adaptive captives, movies, motives, Natives, locomotives, obsessive and possessive. Some awesome, brilliant, different, ignorant, persistent and resilient. ****** and exotic! Some memories are eccentric, fantastic, futuristic, magic, logistic, optimistic,
plastic, realistic, tragic or sadistic. Some random sizes with hidden prizes! Blameful, gainful, lameful and painful. Dreary destinies, diaries, inquires, weary rivalries, stories and theories in memory.
In theory, memories made from cheers and fears, jeers and tears!
Of amends, amens, omens, gems, hymns and stems. Memories
abbreviated and dedicated, deviated and medicated! Memories cased,
edited and erased. Evangelically, eventually everyone inherits! They’re like tiny merits! They spike the psych. They strike and are unlike. Memories of bites, defects, dislikes, effects, fights, flights, insects, logics, neglects, objects, plight, projects, protests, recollects, reflects
rejects, respects and suspects. Memories of fate and hate! Some are not great. Memories of schemes, screams or themes of dreams that seem. Memories of small, memories of tall! Memories in despise, memories
of lies. Memories of wise; beyond the skies, as I close my eyes…
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 9:40 PM UTC
Who Am I!
Who am I to be!
Where Do I belong..
Where will I end up..
Why was I designed and what Do I live for.
Wonder why I am who I am..
Wonder why I do the things I do.
People....
I wonder why people judge the way they do..
I ask how people hold on to the judgements and criticisms.
I often see how people keep others in tight cages.
I see the hatred and it often amazes.
Even with all the answers......
I'd love some favors, I'd Love some forgiveness..I'd love Grace.
It'd be so wonderful to love others as we love ourselves.
It'd be so Blessed should we let go and let God..
It would be so humbling should we forgive as we need forgiving.
See how we don't all have the same views....
See how we all don't believe the same things...
See how we each reason and have our own logics.
But can we all at least see we are all still human beings.
Who all needs those basic Things...
Love! Redemption. Safety..Trust..Peace,,Understanding..
Food..clothes.. shelter.. and family and friends...
Can..
Can we place ourselves in someone elses shoes..
Show some empathy..show some coompassion..
consider what if you were me.
Live the best we can with the life we are given..
Open the cage and let the hated free..
Give them To God let him Be..
What ever it is to them He wants to be.
S.a.m 2018 Protected!
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Light breaks where no sun shines;
Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart
Push in their tides;
And, broken ghosts with glowworms in their heads,
The things of light
File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.
A candle in the thighs
Warms youth and seed and burns the seeds of age;
Where no seed stirs,
The fruit of man unwrinkles in the stars,
Bright as a fig;
Where no wax is, the candle shows its hairs.
Dawn breaks behind the eyes;
From poles of skull and toe the windy blood
Slides like a sea;
Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky
Spout to the rod
Divining in a smile the oil of tears.
Night in the sockets rounds,
Like some pitch moon, the limit of the globes;
Day lights the bone;
Where no cold is, the skinning gales unpin
The winter's robes;
The film of spring is hanging from the lids.
Light breaks on secret lots,
On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain;
When logics die,
The secret of the soil grows through the eye,
And blood jumps in the sun;
Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.
3.1k
As quiet, sleek and sophisticated as they are.
Cats speak volumes
In meow tunes..to the nation of humans.
In the space they consume...
Cats speaks..uniquely thank you's in cat chat hues..
Colored as colorful as the rainbows...
loving to hide where nobody knows
Cats walk with confidences,, able to leap high over fences..
Able to hold their own.. able to freely roam..
A cat can cruise in packs..... or walk solo as a matter of fact.
They don't need man to tell them they are royal
you can see this in their stroll.
Deep down in their being.. so noble,, mankind is blessed to behold..
The animal kingdom fashioned purposefully..
Striking divinity blessing mankind usefully.
Needed generously..Well now if your
sharing space with a cat do it graciously.
Being gentle feline Angels..even when naughty enough to scold.
A cat has a unique role...Even with their pampered attitudes..
If your cats is giving you attitude and acting rude.
There's logic behind those actions and moods..
Get yourself on over to cats school and learn cats 101.
Figure out the madness causing this sadness.
Don't be a quitter.. never hit him/her...
Do no harm.. Or heavens bells will ring a alarm.
Know your attending heavenly royalty keep your blessings flowing.
Cats walk and move softly gently with grace...
Your blessed when a cats in your place.
Show them love..don't bring about disgrace.
Proverbs 12:10 A righteous man regards the life of his animal.
By HeavensRosePoet aka selinarose!
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
I want to write a poem
but I have to write code instead
There can be a kind of poetry in code
especially my code
I'm proud of the elegant design
of my loops and logics
my streamlined systems
My code flows
pulling the User along effortlessly
guiding them gracefully from one end of the black box to the other
and out again
No Errors
My code flows
secret haikus left in comment blocks
for other programmers to find
like digital hieroglyphics on virtual cave walls
test data populated with pantheons and
mystical chants from faraway lands
My code flows
water of ones
in sea of zeroes
pouring through me
from aether to mind to muscle to machine
bit by bit
block by block
stacked upon stack
module into module through function and parameters passed
My code flows
flows through me
until the integer flips
the Boolean switch
change of state
status update
now compiled and crystallized
Executable
and then passed on
leaving me
out of my hands
disseminated to The Users
like a prayer to a congregation
I hear the clicking fingers of their choir
singing the song of my code
now flowing through Them
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
We are not survivors.
we are residue.
the soot that lingers
on collapse's last tongue.
entropy's loiterers—
spiteful, unfinished.
neurons in feedback.
systems with no gods.
the architects left
when the scaffolds imploded.
we cradle their blueprints
like scripture in ash.
rebuild?
with what breath?
with what myth?
our dreams are famine-shaped.
nirvana is a severance package.
emptiness sold
in velvet robes.
a silence that never asked
about wreckage.
so we sharpen our vowels.
scribe ruin in elegy.
chant hymns for dead logics.
leave witness marks
in the marrow of this glitch.
we were not chosen.
we remained.
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 4:34 AM UTC
Free Flying above
the clouds
Soaring above the Earth and through the stars.
Past all of the known planets
Those out of our galaxy
The new planets I view
The new and hotter suns I see
Blaze more energies to fill the empty regions
of my mind
called "mystery."
Fuel my spirit and make it run harder
To new found inhabitants and their newer worlds.
Astral planes of spirit that don't require a vessel
or star ship to hold in or hold back
the soul that travels as it's own transport
Faster than any "law of physics"
Realer than the factual brought in by third party satellites.
I gather more and more brighter and true information
Later to bring such forth in my grounded and non-traveling form
Waiting to share my results to those who don't limit their beliefs
to any said "rule" or "fenced in logic formula"
I ride the waves to the calling gates of astral transport
As my soul escapes my heavy and limited physical self
Late in the night
The recordings of fact stored in the logics of my soul
Are vivid and ready to be replayed
to share such gifts of learning to those eager to believe in it's payload
and form.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
(For the Words of LIFE have already been spoken tens of Times over through the Centuries)
I’d write,
spill out words,
letters binded and bond,
pasted to structure and form.
Language to engage and interact,
to mean and defy,
but this tongue of fingers,
lips of print and digital paper
have laser printed the world out upon the glitter of the screen.
Whispered to sing
and shriek sonnets of the reality I’m chuckling within,
presence surrounding.
I’ve spent shadowed years to form my personalized blue prints,
the architecture of the emotions and logics,
the laws to routines I’ve overseen.
I’ve grasped reality and found a serene among terror and sadness,
wretched and blurred.
Obviously I can contain contentnous when I’m so lavished,
family surrounding,
medium wealth cloaked about me,
but it only gives me even more reason to convey calm,
control, and content.
I’ve bathed among aloneness to puzzle about in confuse and wonder,
figuring to form a philosophy.
There is nothing left to pass against the parched flesh of my lips,
for the universe has already grasped it within the wind.
Devoured my sense of self and awareness,
there’s little left to say when every significant philosophy and observation
I’ve known and could provide
I’ve already said
or has been said
for it is but a well known to sought after cliché or element of the living.
What’s left to speak when every thought feels as common knowledge.
Aug 29, 2011
Aug 29, 2011 at 10:44 PM UTC
A Division of Mathematics
Adding great value to it
Multiplying its applications
Reducing laborious means
Going on logical steps
Riding on its riders
Gliding on its theorems
Solving hitches and glitches
Assuming things as “x”
Applying rational methods
Adopting sequential steps
Solving problems complex
Starting with assumption
Running through derivation
Following brilliant notion
Deciphering through perception
Grand in concepts
Grand in derivations
Grand in suppositions
Resolving problems in a grand manner
Mother of mathematics
Mother of logics
Cracking all mysteries
By initializing things as “x”
Assuming God as “x”
Following tenets and commandments
Living life on virtues and truth
Surely shall we know what “x” is
And what “I” am and what “V” (we) are
And surely shall we know that
X=I=V is Life’s Algebra.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
Vicinit vicinit the gamut go round
Progenies excogitate faster
Ode to no eminent thing
We all morph into matter.
The atramentous inky and blackest dense;
sprints and weaves in and out.
Tenuring twains over head, under toe;
Absconding ways in which we've never known
A paramounted heretic defeat.
Darkness that foliole footprints sooted deep;
Seeping stenches of fowl un-scented reminiscent in attire of the welkin;
Vastly sly making a skullduggery indent.
CR2X let us pseudonym by hex.
"No nomen no nomen for I matter dark"
"Matronymic nix hold's my fine lark"
"Nongermane logics are behind you and left"
"I am not your scientific pet"
Not a test, nix preliminaries"
Matter of all is of all existing quarries"
Spoken gallant and wise
Need not ever a compromise
"Matter dark matter dark it is you we embark!"
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 2:18 PM UTC
There once was a girl
a soul full of foul
greedy,egoist and proud by the nature
how can she be so ugly creature.
She was gifted with good skin and physique
faster her mind with rejected logics
carried her skin and showed with pride
in the digital screens she cant hide
bribed by the possessions she had
tried to act smart but always lacked.
Some fell for her but she gave a ****
it was her nature what could it harm.
Lost in her world of selfishness,
she once tried to be nice
hatred pulled her back with unwanted disguise.
She cant change herself because she needs to show
show her covering with outer glow
Mind full of ego she needs to learn,
the world is full of billions who earn,
earn a life without their skin but with what they are,
learn some respect without a war.
Love is a play and feelings dont matter to her.
Need to learn girl the skin you have will fade someday,
but the person you are never changes,
value your soul and not your skin,
stop smiling at your admirance enjoy your pain,
when you fall in love it will show,
and if you get rejected then you will know.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 5:26 AM UTC
I add to the experience
From the one before
Like a Fibonacci typewriter
Snapping off the keys and letting go
to line up on the floor
I am the infinite monkey
Whose nonsense on sense
Will eventually line up too
In a somewhere where the parallel functions are
and with the golden ratio sentence
I'll keep walking jealous and pitying
The shadows upon the cavern wall
Hoping for the teapot orbit high above
to veer away to another constellation
Where logics reign over logic minds
and law is clear and never minted
A quantum absolution
both there and not at all
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
“You should write about it.”
or
I Learned to Smile at Mirrors: A Demonstration
The city was oddly near barren.
Strides hit the dimming sidewalk in two-to-one ratio.
Money looming tall above our covered heads.
When cornered into the shade
humans are unable to cast shadows.
Our path was laid clear by store closings,
locked doors ushering us down toward neon outlined water
to stare across gleaming black
while the shadowed lions bray.
Cloth turns to quarters turns
to pink fortune turns
to bright reflections across irises
while years of the same story vibrate
across our fingers.
Gears paid in hope spin warm with the smiles of
those come before.
Lamps once bright now flicker and crack,
and the ballroom dancers
don’t quite turn with the fervor of before.
Sometimes what seems a flaw is what makes the object most itself;
inconsistencies or strange logics
from somewhere different than where you wanted.
Certain hands grasped against throats are
comfort blankets to soothe the burning,
forcing skin and bones to remember that with selflessness
and love
the past will no longer obfuscate
paths where feet need to fall most.
No sparing rejoinders for improvements,
or constant encouragement in what is already done well.
Every mile and hour leading to those sea salted boards totally rearranged me.
Fought 11 hours and 771 miles of asphalt
to press my face in where I was worst.
The greatest gift one can receive:
not encouragement,
but total excoriation of the places
where I was once only limping.
Let the train cars tilt with our backs due West,
shoulders sagging with knowledge half-learned,
thrice remembered.
Two deer stand in the rearview
as my tires turn heatward.
Smiling as I realize your Country
grew to reflect your worth.
Not the other way around.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
I lie dreaming during what restful hours in which I sleep.
My soul travels to the true and astral vacations
Not just in fantasy.....
No,no.
It is a worthwhile blues song in which
To it
I love to weep.
I release the energies that over power the good.
I fly even further.
To my destination and true bright future..
Moments of this dream play on and those movie scenes I keep.
There are reasons one escapes reality through astral planes
Leaving the physical shell behind.
Lost weight...
Lost excuses...
Feels good for my spirit to be free.
So join the free.
Release your doubts due to what is or isn't supposed
To happen or be real...
For the gate way to another world is open there.
If you're soul can believe in something greater than
Human made logics....
Fly with me, my love, as we astral plane and
Connect to each others spirits in dreams..
More greater and truer than Einstein's theory
Of relatively....
We are free roaming spirits defying gravity.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 4:28 AM UTC
Infinity
Infinity
Oh!!!!!!
Infinity
Infinity
You are not enough
Logics bluff
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 8:13 PM UTC
Her nickname
Was always
Gaia with a y.
And she was.
Dancing; not so much
Reasoning.
All feeling. Analysis,
Not so much.
Me, a petard of adrenaline and
Testosterone -short fused with
Whisky and blunt logics- by
Which I found myself
Hoist with ruthless regret.
All man.
All human
Man.
We merged until we
Emerged, passing through
Each other and moving
On. Two forces of nature
Embracing.
With a broad
Enough
Perspective,
Everything
Looks
Beautiful.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
Surfacing Tides-Storms Come
Father!
It's so dark !
I'm whispering
Where fore art thou Oh my Lord!
My soul only seeking this Why.. Oh God how, Lord why!
My God from where did evil get in among us.
Please help!
I am smiling I look normal I am holding conversations, engaging
at times small giggling.
She seems alright. Am I ok!
The Tides roll ashore upon the beaches sand.
I feel sane ok.
That Pulling me away from the shore line this tides withdrawing,
I'm drowning at bay.
I dont feel safe, I'm Lost, sad, angry, questions, tears sobs drowning.
Lost at sea.
Lord reach for me.
The tides pushing me back to the shore line.
Things seem a little fine. a touch of peace of mind.
Socializing, guessing playing investigator.
People chatting family saying comforting things.
I seem to be breathing.
At times hearing things seeing things feeling the weakness,,
The helplessness.
Watching the tides subsides.
sanity, reasons logics, I don't know the whys or the hows.
Killings are happening on local tv scenes.
Tides are low,,
Then they are high.
We wonder where and when will each soul rest.
lookin up to a storm in the sky.
each one has a reason why.
The storms come.
By
s.a.m selinasharday
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
Have you noticed how bad news arrives
In packs of three collectively?
How odours cling to secret parts
Unless they’re washed selectively?
How luck deserts the most deserved
Right in their hour of need?
How the will deserts the injured
When their wounds begin to bleed?
How the mysteries of the universe
Defy all logics' course
And the brave desert the battle
With the Captain on his horse.
How that ******* thing called happenstance
Will upstage us every day
And the thieves who owe us money
Intend to actually not repay.
How the rot is in the woodwork
And the stench pervades the air
And your wallets always empty
Because the Missus beat you there.
How you’re feeling kinda flat
When things refuse to spin your way,
....How ya should have stayed in bed
And ****** cancelled out today!
Marshalg
Up to my backside in trouble.
23 Novermber 2010
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
A thin line
is what separates our kind
from normal.
A different thought
is what confuses the masses
and we leave them behind
we keep moving forward
in extraordinary ways
proving that everyone was wrong
and we know that we truly do belong
Our techniques and logics
are very exotic
the patterns that we create
are not mistakes
and that we are willing to take
any adventure that life throws our way
New achievements are unlocked
when we don't follow the flock
New happiness is found
when we stand our ground
New gratitude is captured
when we thank our life chapter
life has never been the same
ever since we came
Don't let your insides die
help them survive
we all can think in extraordinary ways
it's only gonna happen
if you wanna be more than Okay
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
That I would praise others for selfless acts
And then hope they praise me right back
The logics whack
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC