"mannerisms" poems
Working parts and mechanisms,
charts and graphs and mannerisms,
a table, pencil, square and mitre...
eraser marks, sweat drops, -go lighter!
A thought or two and ponderance...
Decimal here and decimal there,
-micron adjustment now we're square...
Up all night until daylight dawn
and finally I've fixed the Krong!
A thought or two and ponderance...
To the factory arrive before eight
and finished, furnished, a model late...
A handheld one and something larger,
humanity saved by my charger!
A thought or two and ponderance...
10 years long after planet saved,
They'll be parades and accolades...
Statues, tributes, my name in text-books,
but no one, never, a second look!
Never to worry on life again...
..I did it,
I reset the world; begin.
And did it all with Earth's mighty spin.
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
I have a special talent.
I have the ability to taste peoples personalities.
It sounds weird, I know.
But this is not a fictitious writing.
It happens only on the very first interaction with someone.
Only in person obviously-
Not through text or the phone.
I feel it-
Rather, I taste it in the first words they speak.
The first time our eyes meet.
And in one instance, the first hug.
I guess I don't "taste it"
Its more instinctual-
It almost feels like a memory.
Not like I just imagine it.
Its more like-
When you think someone said your name when they didn't.
Sometimes people taste like the smell of rain.
Some, like salt water.
some, like cloth or toothpaste.
On an occasion-
Sweet Orange Soda.
I guess I don't know if its actually personalities I am "tasting"
It just so happens that the Fellows that taste like burning rubber, or rotten cheese end up being the ones that just cant get along with me.
Its hard not to judge-
When my body does it at the instant.
Maybe its all about mannerisms, and subconscious memories.
Its odd.
Ill stick to my friends that taste like Mint and Orange sodas-
Fruit and cake dough-
Than those-
who taste like moldy bread.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
porch talk, simmering in a Bud light sauce
everyone chair-rocking, even the boxer dog,
in his self-propelled 360 degree swiveling chair
eavesdropping and spy eyeballing the farm for
strangers and any creatures as of yet, unsmelled
get done with weather, the crops,
the neighbors,
the weird, and the truly neighborly,
grandkids escapades, hopes and desires, comparative literature and regional dialects and philosophical dialecticals tickling,
bs’ing and tall tale telling, breathing the windy geography of the air over the land that dictates the how we live,
open another Bud for the buds,
did I forget to mention
farm equipment?
skirt politics cause nobody wants any
nothing-to-be-done-damn-aggravation,
leaves nothing mo’ to ramble on about ‘cept the
absent women
no worries all above board no secrets uncouthed,
but the mood softens as the pale daylight wisps come rarer
as now
nearer to nine pm, obvious saved the best for last,
a very manly-way of ordering things,
big silent pauses in the converso conversation,
guy-sighs many,
as the last essay of the day is being jointly authored,
denotating the generalized listings of
how they drive us crazy,
listing the repetition of ever changing instructions,
which doesn't recognize bi-coastal mannerisms, non-differentiating
just humanism-isms
and the peculiarities of each (a list kept)
in a compare and contrast,
an end of the day summation,
and the boasting-outbesting,
of each of their
specialisms
which is sadly now forgotten and which haven’t been
brain-recorded so cannot be disclosed
other than it’s now ten
and all that’s left is
to sleep, perchance, to dream,
of private things
and bigger and better
John Deere tractors
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC
Peek-a-boo, I see you
Underneath the ***** lunch tables
We yearn to hold hands but are unable
Goodnight moon, see you soon
We live for the weekends with reckless abandon
His mannerisms, I just can't understand him
What happens in Vegas stays
And you are quite a gamble
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 7:03 AM UTC
I remember our first date vividly you had your lustrous black dress on that displayed all your curves supermodel figure, shoe game was serious fashion killer had your hair in them short curls smelled like coconuts eyes were sparkling reflecting the moonlight with that red lipstick you were so gorgeous
GOD'S canvas painted in that melanin you could have ruled the world evident you a Queen in my eyes a future bride, I was more nervous than you when we shared our first kiss floating butterflies got me feeling like a little kid, you stuck in my head like a lullaby
Girl what's not love about you got me feeling like Dwele, you such a down the earth chick sophisticated not simple minded girl you stay educted, you into them old school tunes sung you that old Jays hit you're darlin darlin baby, you everything I hoped for in a woman can't be compared to no hoes you a strong Queen with goals, I love the way you get goofy when you start laugh but that's only when you comfortable, or when your eyebrows twitch when you get ****** I study your mannerisms, ain't nobody eles I love this deep you make me complete other girls just can't compete
Girl U got me
Girl U got me
Girl U got me
Girl U got me (voice fades)
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
Late nights in your car, listening to turnover and drinking coffee.
For the longest time I was that girl in the Paramore shirt and converse.
Eventually you asked me my name and to be friends.
Friends didn't last long due to the fact that we clicked instantly.
From music to mannerisms we were in sync.
When I think of you, I smell coffee and cigarettes.
I feel warm knowing I'll always have your jacket and arms to keep me warm.
I'm always cold because I know we're both terrified to lose each other.
But when I started to drift from you for the first time, you didn't say anything because you didn't want to be over-barring.
After a while you caved and finally told me you missed me.
But what I miss, is the way it feels when you hugged me and i breathed in your scent.
When you touch me, I have no thoughts, all I hear is complete silence.
I'm always nervous but more calm than ever with you.
You know my struggles and have seen my scars but still tell me its okay and I'm beautiful anyways.
I like the way your eyes light up when you talk about the new sextape single; your smile is contagious.
You say I make you jealous when I talk about all the boys who've touched me,
But no one is more jealous than me when I think about all the girls you've held and told THEM that you LOVED THEM.
I don't think I can handle us being "friends" much longer.
Every time I'm with you I go to grab your hand but never reach it because I'm scared for your hand to slip out of mine.
I never thought of my future because I'd rather be dead, but if you're with me, being alive doesn't sound too bad.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Living this life is unpredictable until the end;
conclusions of the statement are only made from opinionated experiences.
At the dawn of birth, there is "choice"
and "choices", are for better or worse.
There is an expression that goes,
"everything is likely fifty-fifty in choosing",
consequently believe it to be true.
Humanity exemplifies a just way of living,
in an understanding that people make
poor decisions due to the life they may
have been brought up in, however,
this life is full of petty mistakes as we know it,
some unfortunate souls are born into a dysfunctional
or broken family and others of a different situation i.e.(poverty).
This could cause unjust mannerisms
that occur in the daily lives we so often face.
These situations very freely throw more
than the average curve ball growing up.
Sadly, I ask that we feel sorrow
for the majority of individuals
with an intention that in reading this;
it would justify some clarity in my eyes through yours.
With clarity, let there be a world in heartthrob,
which could potentially change mankind towards purity.
A very specific conclusion led me to this;
When a man struggles at his own destiny
because of his nature vs. nurture,
his good along with his bad leak like a salivating sieve.
However, his “good” shows his mentality
and lust for life, yet his “bad”,
shows his incompetence relating to
a moral dignity for the greater good of living (if unfortunate).
As this revelation evolves,
humanistic mannerisms slowly slip away
in a young society and fade from
the common core values we once knew from our elders.
Surrounded by an ideological critical society,
a fear trembles for our youth has no future
in a sense for they may be too deaf
to hear their state of “consciousness”,
to the extent of being blind to see their own “actions”.
"The unknown spectator of our world;
is the light beyond the dark,"
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
A doer not a talker,
A finder's keepers,
not a stalker,
first he is A Man,
gentle in his MANnerisms,
but not the knuckles or
his calloused hands.
He does not stand out
in his field, he is too busy
working to increase the yield,
not make best use of fifteen
minutes, OF Few men can
this be said, his hat still fits
his crew cut hairy head.
when he opens his mouth
to speak, his thoughts take
shape and become Words,
not charged with emotion,
not angered or raging,
not with some rite of self-
righteous indignation.
He speaks his peace,
and sits his *** on the
nearest thing he can find,
he has a sound body and
a sound mind, when she
decides and marries him she
will find, treasure. Rare.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
Tokyo
By Anthony Caceres
Flashing lights, Flashing people
Blurs of the past come to haunt
Blurs of the present come to taunt
Blurs of the future come to flaunt
Sitting here by the bus stop
Watching people fly by like the airplanes above
Everybody set their bodies to fast forward
While I’m rewinding as slow as I can
Reading the latest manga as I get ****** into the lights
Like some late night ramen
I feel like I can walk on air
A skywalker
I can’t escape the death walkers
I know
But I can slow them down, to a point
With a late night text
and the horns of rampaging cars
Busses and Bikes
Awkward mannerisms
and long hikes
Tokyo is far away
But as long as your still here with me
Tokyo will forever stay
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
I'm fine.
The lie I say every f**king day.
The lie I say multiple times a day.
I wake up from a sleep that hasn't rested me,
And I lie. I'm fine.
When the woman I love asks if I'm okay, I lie to her.
I'm fine.
When she's breaking down due to her own issues,
I stay stong for her. Tell her it will be okay.
Possibly another lie.
I bury myself in these lies, to make sure everyone else is okay.
I'm fine.
The only reason, the ONLY ******* reason, why I haven't attempted for the 3rd time, is because I am scared of the impact of other people.
I'm fine.
I don't care what happens to me.
I care what will happen to others.
Laurens future. Her own mental health.
My Mums heart. I can't take a son away from my Mother.
My sisters big brother.
My Dads nipper.
My nephews uncle.
I'm fine.
My best friends. I couldn't forgive myself if I made the group smaller by 1.
I'm fine.
It even extends to work.
I can't let others take on the burden of doing the work I should be doing, because I ended it.
I'm not that selfish.
I'm fine.
Its the crippeling debt we're in.
How the f**k can I let the person I love put up with that on her own.
We barely live pay day to pay day.
And how can I do this to a family that hasn't even started.
I'm fine.
I am fine.
This constant feeling of something catastrophic is about to happen.
This invisible ocean I'm drowning in.
This explosion that is happening in my head, that I'm constantly holding back.
The thoughts that flitter in my head so easily.
I'm fine.
I say it with a smile.
I say it with purpose.
I say it with a heavy heart.
I'm fine.
My mouth says I'm fine.
My eyes scream for help.
I've been so good at lying, I've convinced every other communication I have.
My actions.
My words.
My mannerisms.
The jokes I flood into every conversation.
I'm fine.
I try to laugh as much as possible.
It helps convince others I'm fine.
It helps supress.
If I don't laugh, I die.
Or so it feels.
I'm fine.
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 8:58 AM UTC
A Hug,
How underrated
Available in the avail of a kiss,
Or the escape of one.
At birth
My mother showed me loves worth
Calmed the loudest cries
Hushing me
Just by holding me
Keeping me warm
Through the coldest times
As I grew older
This demonstration became more familiar
With family
So many I managed to manifest
My mannerisms allowed
Long embraces
That mattered so much!
All from a simple touch
The first time…
The first time,
With the one I loved
*********** lacked satisfaction
If after the contraction
We weren’t in each others arms…
Relaxin…
Chest to chest
You hold her
Can two hearts get any closer?
If my only love
Was to take her love away
In the most selfish absurd way
Spurned my love
She still wouldn’t be too stubborn to hug
Once the years have spun away
The best reconciliation
A Hug,
A gesture so benign
Even if I were to express
With my best friend, a canine
Or my only companion, a feline
People still wouldn’t see I
As constructed of **********
Alerting not a soul
Hearts become sole
Even when shared with animals.
Making Love,
Is not limited to ***
Or a kiss,
Instead,
The same bliss
Can be met
With a Hug.
What’s Love, But a Hug?
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 12:27 AM UTC
"bleed·ing heart"
a person considered to be dangerously softhearted
feeling sorry for everything and everyone and giving in to emotions quickly.
“My heart bled today.”
Nothing new, same old routine, same old unremarkable usual thing.
They say over and over, Repetition is key. The key for what, I may never know.
Things often moving quickly halt and take on the slow.
The same people, the same faces, the same air, the same places.
I’m a person with a bleeding heart.
It’s dangerous to lead a life like mine,
Sadly you can’t escape the family bloodline.
Constantly stuck in a place between the planes.
I can’t help what’s running wild, pumping through my veins.
No rest for me. The others are already gone.
My logic quickly left along with the dawn.
My bleeding heart might just be the death of me.
I would show you I am hurting but we can’t seem to agree
I am all alone surrounded by nothing but my own suffocating thoughts.
I can’t breathe and continue to find myself at a loss.
A new beginning. The strong will live, the weak will die.
It’s tattooed into the minds of the people in the city as a nearby excuse for people like me.
Yes, there are others, but they are far out of reach, conveniently unavailable.
The rest of us have been wiped out and deemed unfavorable.
What am I?
Just an unnoticed vessel of the human soul
and all of it’s dangerously soft-hearted mannerisms.
I have a bleeding heart. I do not deny.
Left alone for the beasts to tear apart.
But I cannot help but look to the sky.
I despise my nature, my being even,
Curse my benignant soul,
And my lack of self control
What’s left for me in this cruel world?
Run by unintellectual imbeciles running off their own flawed reasoning
A divergent past, lies in ruins which was once filled with memories and happy experiences,
I was once just a kid lost in her own place, drowning and begging for help but no one came.
Perhaps, I’m not as much of a person with a bleeding heart as I possibly could be.
Perhaps, the legacy I leave behind will be nothing but a life of running away.
Perhaps my bleeding heart only bleeds in contrast to the reality around me.
“Because it is mine, it will always bleed”.
I am stuck in this life of heartache and unwelcome spilled blood, but it will be alright.
Because I won’t give up, not until I succeed.
I will make it one day, even if there is no destination, I’ll go just to see the sights.
Bleeding heart and all, I will fight the war, not backing down, but disappearing at midnight.
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:56 AM UTC
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
So...there's this girl who's rather smart
that, when her lips begin to part,
drives me up the wall in a good way.
I sort of want to see her everyday.
She's usually busy though,
so I occupy
time with one constant sigh
until she calls and then I go.
I don't really know too much about her ---
she's Aphrodite's caricature! ---
no,no, that's a bit rash and inflated,
but in my stomach butterflies've congregated
each time her face comes to mind.
Severely interesting,
her hands are often clean
and she's never proved less than kind.
I think it might be good to write her a song
(I should've been writing this all along)
so that she'll feel sublimely delighted
and is happy, though consistently derided
by the upkeep of her garden's flora.
She could use a lot
of things uncommonly wrought,
like poems stuffed with anaphora.
*In time all the snowflakes will evaporate.
In time the sun will sleep under an iron leaf.
In time acetylene darkens human hate.
In time all time will seem quite brief.*
So, in honor of her I have created
this mediocre song so dominated
by use of the Yeats-stanza's rhythmic-rhyme,
offering it to her as ends to the crime
of my deplorable mannerisms.
I hope it's well-received,
being arduously conceived,
but I'll openly accept criticisms.
Coral, though you must (and do) work a lot,
work harder at those things which can't be bought
(i.e. relationships, love, and empathy)
for even the natural workaholic bee
requires mutual love.
Even while working
find a small moment to sing
this song. I hope it's enough.
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Where skin meets pole,
In low society.
Is where I thrive.
This isn’t the right choice.
Singles hustlin.
Join me in these dollar days.
This is your light switch entrance.
Sitting at a marble bar
Loveless love, pay by the song.
Selfish fun, ***** talking on the jukebox.
Jazzin’ to the music.
Standing up on that marble stage,
Showing the world whats yours is ours.
Drunken memories lived to the fullest.
I’m out trying to discover America.
Stripped down to its rawest form.
This road is laden with fallen philosophies.
Tasting of ***** money.
Bitter.
Fully **** girls flashing. (lights)
Blow in the bathroom.
The nightlife you’ve always wanted.
Movie star lifestyle.
Dimly lit.
Have some backroom privacy.
Conversations with strangers.
This is naked in all sense of the word.
Sensual seduction.
Classical redemption.
Primal ecstasy.
Trying to make amends with myself.
This is a haggard lifestyle.
Society frowns upon us.
Shameful scandals.
Fake lovesick mannerisms
Paid for in advance.
Exposed on stage.
You’re in love with a stripper.
Kitty, Desire, Destiny, Velvet.
All the love you’ve been looking for,
For the price of admission.
Just sit back and watch the girls on stage.
This is it.
We’re searching for love.
And if we cant find love,
We’ll settle for lust and luck.
You’re well taken care of here.
Don’t you worry about a thing.
Just don’t run out of money.
Superficial lover for a pay as you go one-night stand.
Never lonely here.
Late night tonight.
In the back of the club.
Are we having déjà vu yet?
You’ve been here before.
You’ll be here tomorrow.
Just a little longer now.
Climbing up the pole to the ceiling,
Only to slam down in the splits.
Don’t worry it can only get better from here.
This is the right choice.
Bright light flashing.
You’re finally in the spotlight.
Sold out, checked out, cashed.
“Let me do all the work sweetheart.”
We must live the way we feel is right.
We’re all trying to make our way in this world.
Lets not forget each other.
Cocktails anyone?
Is this wrong?
Living in this life.
This party
that never ends.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 8:38 PM UTC
I love observing a stranger's mannerisms,
they tell a story of their own.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
She stands tall and slender like poetry
Her eyes hard as steel
Her face a mask of sovereignty
She's seen it all in her industry
Outwardly she appears calm
Don't be fooled by her charms
Her mannerisms are her keeping
Don't overstep your line.
She's fought a hard battle
Laid claim to the highest throne
She's driven out the competition
But now she stands alone
At what cost comes success
The sacrifice of sanctity
The loss of integrity
A woman fighting in a man's world
Play by the rules or risk your dignity
The fall from grace will be so steep
One she'd rather not see coming
So she dances while she can
Her ballerinas grace has u enchanted
When the time for the show is over
When the curtains r drawn and the lights are dimmer
She takes off her mask and weep miserably
She has only loneliness
To keep her company
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
there is a certain amount of
a n g e r
bound in a persons
poorly wired heart
under layers of thin plastic skin
in fear of ripping off band-aids
to find they took more than
what they bargained for
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
Who could ever love an Eliza?
Awkwardly a little too tall,
Possessing a dorky laugh,
Silly mannerisms,
And,
Above all,
A dream of love.
An Eliza writes poetry,
Crying to God for answers to life's questions,
Asking for God to provide some form of companionship.
An Eliza,
Is impatient,
Her largest downfalls,
Impatience,
Caring too much.
An Eliza is an Eliza,
But,
Is that a good thing?
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 7:38 AM UTC
I shaved away the edges until there was nothing left, but a dream of what could have been, and so with frustration i accepted the jagged.
A common law of common flaws, as my face morphs into mask.
I still wonder, when it all will collide, building up inside ...
So much.
Too much.
Electrified in the the allure of my ruthless retorts, as i struggle in futile resistance to the inevitable.
The feeling is incredible, when you let all just go.
As it gently flows from the empathy into ecstasy, learning to love thy enemy, even as they are metaphorically stabbing me in the back.
Euphorically to react to the sensations in my lap when shes next to me.
Hexing me in a shellacking smack to my mannerisms
Her summer dress to address my cynicism, as it flows back from whence it came.
Detained in her image.
Restrained, in questioned worth.
Worth a thousand words.
Words never heard but seen in synesthesia.
Synesthesia saving my amnesia from forgotten verbs that be-heave us, in forgetful stumbling of the loving mumblings before the kiss.
The kiss dismissing the winded blue lips from the fumbled wits of love.
Love drown the fires ablaze as it spirals away.
Away from the journey.
Journey of the uninterrupted.
Uninterrupted in the hunting of my comforts.
Comfort in the squiggled lines.
Lines that pack a little comfort.
Comfort in the blinds, as i sacrifice my obedience for a little bit of expedience on the smile that awaits, this toothless face.
Bludgeoned stupid, as i pace at half mass, blinded in the tall grass of empty lands amassed in colors unseen with tunneled eyes that refuse to defy gravity.
Gravity in your roads chosen.
Chosen in the glow of abodes ablaze.
Amazed in starlit eyes.
Eyes to dream.
Dream of better ways.
Ways to clean the bad away.
Away with my wayward words.
Words observed in zero.
Zeros the point in which i met her, blinded in the blur, as im pulled to her.
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
The Star-Spangled Banner are Our Mangled Mannerisms
© Matthew Harlovic
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
Hey Princess my name is Han, I picture us together in a Galaxy Far Far Away
I promise you adventure to say the least
I'm not saying the courtship will be all filled with peace
I will fly you in a spaceship which is very nice
I hope you are able to withstand some strife
I have to let you know that I have a kind of pet he is quite unique
He is a Wookie you may in fact rather kiss him than me
If my mannerisms get under your skin
I feel I should warn you about the competition that is interested in You
I heard about a fat ugly guy named Jabba The Hut, he might even want to imprison you
Well I heard you once were interested in your brother, I am willing to overlook that fact
I can tell you that dating me is not boring to say the least
We will fight against The Empire and you will get to meet many Jedi Knights
You and I together will have to dodge fire from Storm trooper guns
Not to mention the dictator Darth Vader wants to **** both me and you
I will let you know if this don't appeal to you or sound like to much fun
You could date a certain doctor named DR. Who and see were he and his Tardis might take you.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC