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"maximise" poems
Life is glorious With a taste of gore, But it seems That glory has no value And gore shall prevail Forevermore. Hand in hand Go glory and gore, For, rainbows are not found Without a sunny downpour. Magnifying trouble Doubling the rubble, A flaw engraved- Incorrigible. Harder and hardest We name them apart, But truth lies in neither For, it's only hard. Choking and bleeding To death and beyond, Send us to our eternal home, To the grave we belong. We need not love To live a life Without burns Within the soul. We need not heartache To maximise gore, But only the need For sympathy and pity. Although some of us Need not any pity, Only a helping hand To change the future. Past is past Untouchable, We have no time turner To change what's over. But gore maximisation Is what is shameful, Exaggerating Pretentious nightmares. Stories of blood Stories of tears, They may be true But only what It means to you. Keep the rubble They way it is, Don't falsely increase The heavy burden. Yes we cry, But not die. Death comes once And takes us away, Completely disconnected And entirely stray. We sink to the bottom But we don't drown, Breathless and shivering But still alive. Going over these lines I only see A blank page Staring back at me. *Oh you hypocrite Don't tell these lies, You know you double The rubble and the cries.* I despise this poem But still, I write For, I need to be loyal To the growing demons. Paradoxes contaminate Words of wisdom, Scattering constellations Back into stars alone. I question myself What is it I want, I realise that the answer Only lies in a web; The web of life. Live life to the fullest, Don't live in a dream world, This is reality There is gravity. ***But, to hell with life That's what I say, Live your dream Make it your way.*** Be considerate To what others want, But never bow down To unreasonable taunt. Look at good Look at evil, Choose your path Let it prove Not fatal. *A cursed hamartia Ruins many a life, A flaw so fatal A remorseful light.* Ending this vague haze, Of many a peculiar phrase, I cannot comprehend myself, For, I am caught In the inevitable daze.
0
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Hypocrisy
Life is glorious With a taste of gore, But it seems That glory has no value And gore shall prevail Forevermore. Hand in hand Go glory and gore, For, rainbows are not found Without a sunny downpour. Magnifying trouble Doubling the rubble, A flaw engraved- Incorrigible. Harder and hardest We name them apart, But truth lies in neither For, it's only hard. Choking and bleeding To death and beyond, Send us to our eternal home, To the grave we belong. We need not love To live a life Without burns Within the soul. We need not heartache To maximise gore, But only the need For sympathy and pity. Although some of us Need not any pity, Only a helping hand To change the future. Past is past Untouchable, We have no time turner To change what's over. But gore maximisation Is what is shameful, Exaggerating Pretentious nightmares. Stories of blood Stories of tears, They may be true But only what It means to you. Keep the rubble They way it is, Don't falsely increase The heavy burden. Yes we cry, But not die. Death comes once And takes us away, Completely disconnected And entirely stray. We sink to the bottom But we don't drown, Breathless and shivering But still alive. Going over these lines I only see A blank page Staring back at me. *Oh you hypocrite Don't tell these lies, You know you double The rubble and the cries.* I despise this poem But still, I write For, I need to be loyal To the growing demons. Paradoxes contaminate Words of wisdom, Scattering constellations Back into stars alone. I question myself What is it I want, I realise that the answer Only lies in a web; The web of life. Live life to the fullest, Don't live in a dream world, This is reality There is gravity. ***But, to hell with life That's what I say, Live your dream Make it your way.*** Be considerate To what others want, But never bow down To unreasonable taunt. Look at good Look at evil, Choose your path Let it prove Not fatal. *A cursed hamartia Ruins many a life, A flaw so fatal A remorseful light.* Ending this vague haze, Of many a peculiar phrase, I cannot comprehend myself, For, I am caught In the inevitable daze.
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108
Awake in the night listening to rain Well placed ice packs when feeling the strain Spacing those tents to ensure a safe distance Getting it right aides coexistence. Welcoming all with smiles and sweets Giving assurance with replies on repeat Directing the lost with maps and good grace Shifting the freezers to maximise space Finding the child who wandered from mum Keeping kids safe while ensuring their fun Spraying the sinks and mopping with vigour Trying and failing to pull down that zipper Queuing for showers at early 5.30 Teens these days don't tolerate ***** Whenever you need them they'll sort out the flushes And when the loo blocks they'll get out the brushes. These are the heroes of New Day each year Whenever you see them give them a cheer Enjoy your time with us, have a real blast We're all here for Jesus - the first and the last.
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Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
New Day 2017
I'm a man because I take a stance against ******* or modern day slavery I'm a man because the beast inside is uncaged, my focus not wavering I'm a man because I see beyond my nose, beyond horizons The man  in me recognizes the lack of agility, and not the size of a python So I chose not to fear But to make sense of situations And maximise self expression The distant look in my eyes I see it too In Barack's eyes I've seen it too... it's true I tend to fall off, and slip off the track sometimes But the Almighty's seen me through the toughest of times I'm proud to say that I know what my purpose in life is, it's mine But to get there I've got to keep myself in check... in line It probably will never be easy, I understand But... I owe it to God to remain strong and stay "This Man".
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 6:03 AM UTC
This man.
I recognised you as you stood with your back to me I tried to verbalise a word for you to hear Yet I was too hypnotised to vocalise a single sound To call to you would send lullabies your way It would have solemnised the moment Pantomime like I stood stock still, not ready to eulogise. I wanted to maximise the moment To sacrifice the past, to address this big occasion To strive and entice this surprise, but I didn't call, too many butterflies interceded My desire to shout out to the me that I For a brief moment recognised.
0
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
Recognise
Minimise distraction Maximise intention. Minimise commodity fetishism Maximise giving out love. Love people, use things. The opposite never works.
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Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 7:56 AM UTC
Minimalism
Backpack a bed; for a full rainbow in a head, can only be seen while taking a plane.
0
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
maximise mind-wandering
**I'm random, I know But random is something that I appreciate being... and that's why I grow As I maximise my verbal flow Without thinking, much more powerful than speaking This written stuff never fails to show That I can go... to lengths No poet has ever gone before More for the sake of being real to myself, than for show Different is how I go about it Hard to concieve just how I would ever be able to flow without it This 'random' This thing that I do As I put forward my thoughts to you Always true, never overdone I would emphasize on two true points, before I ever trip over one Infact, I would never trip over one Because I don't lack this... thing they call skill Product of a combination of practice... and ill will Crazy is what some may call it Phase me?... No, none may foil it My plan Still remains greater than The majority... words dripping with controversy and personality On another level, who's talking equality? I don't overthink And still express it to the brink My idea With no fear Get it clear It's real poetry going on right here.**
0
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 1:55 PM UTC
TOO RANDOM
there's no sense in the judgment that we make concerning all the tricks of the old trade nor in belief that turns out to be fake in all those things that are fated to fade the world is as it is and what must come is less not more than what we'd thought the sum of what we earn in simple steady pay but given to us with little delay we're far too eager and give in to haste the infant mind attains its highest sway so what is human ends up most abased our duty never got an honest shake but found its honour hidden in the shade while we were learning good things by mistake and wondering why none came by to aid for our relief we did not earn a crumb while happy others made off with the plum meanwhile the foolish urged us just to pray as if that answer were more than cliché while our best efforts had to be replaced and matters finished in another way so what is human ends up most abased the truth is clear we could not get a break from anybody here the whole charade was guaranteed to maximise their take and in the process our spirits abrade dumping us all down in the meanest slum because we were so obviously dumb we were served up upon a silver tray trapped and devoured to our immense dismay our skills dismissed and all of us disgraced moulded and shaped just like the softest clay so what is human ends up most abased prince you observe as we suffer this day ordering whips our tender backs to flay you think this moment easily erased yours is the power and the word today so what is human ends up most abased
0
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
what is human
there's no sense in the judgment that we make concerning all the tricks of the old trade nor in belief that turns out to be fake in all those things that are fated to fade the world is as it is and what must come is less not more than what we'd thought the sum of what we earn in simple steady pay but given to us with little delay we're far too eager and give in to haste the infant mind attains its highest sway so what is human ends up most abased our duty never got an honest shake but found its honour hidden in the shade while we were learning good things by mistake and wondering why none came by to aid for our relief we did not earn a crumb while happy others made off with the plum meanwhile the foolish urged us just to pray as if that answer were more than cliché while our best efforts had to be replaced and matters finished in another way so what is human ends up most abased the truth is clear we could not get a break from anybody here the whole charade was guaranteed to maximise their take and in the process our spirits abrade dumping us all down in the meanest slum because we were so obviously dumb we were served up upon a silver tray trapped and devoured to our immense dismay our skills dismissed and all of us disgraced moulded and shaped just like the softest clay so what is human ends up most abased prince you observe as we suffer this day ordering whips our tender backs to flay you think this moment easily erased yours is the power and the word today so what is human ends up most abased
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38
Sympathy Disguised Lashes Volume Maximise Pencil Brows Pull Together Concern Whilst Tilting Under.... Stand..... Ably..... From Side To side Sympathy Is in Disguise
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Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 3:13 PM UTC
Sympathy
how they are enjoying themselves! I want to tell them a haiku or a senryu or a tanka or something but no one makes time for minimalism. (how they must maximise everything!)
0
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 9:01 AM UTC
nothing to them
*writing to a few has become wearisome, so wearisome i'm about to give up, and when i do i'll be relieved, i'll finally enjoy drinking and not talking rather than my version of slapstick humour in mime, i.e. doing the excess body language shaking off phantoms of ghosts enticing signatures in the frost of car glass.* carbon monoxide in cigarettes is most effective after a dinner or a midnight feast. man, i'm just tired, touch too irksome, i have 10,618 poems on my facebook page that no one will read, i'm about to publish a book, yes papyrus print on the continent, but i can't be bothered to feel excited, i feel like alexander dumas having written so many novel but only being remembered for the three musketeers, and that's how it's supposed to be... but it's so damnable, i can't believe i'm to enact a constant here, of myself or some other, it's can't be so damnably courteously 70 years in and nothing more, one might say: one thing to conquer the world and loose a soul, another to conquer the world and loose all sense of continuity of furthering generations of brown-nosing a mozart... the joker's interpretation of nietzsche: what doesn't **** you... only makes you stranger... i have no fighting spirit left in me to pay honesty to the maxim, as philosophers are quick to maxim / maximise a non-existent exemplification, in their spare-time they provide all eloquence of a stated truth but no example to follow: i could write you 20 maxims about something, but none of them would be true had i to write about it in transit of experience.
0
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
brown-nosing a mozart
*writing to a few has become wearisome, so wearisome i'm about to give up, and when i do i'll be relieved, i'll finally enjoy drinking and not talking rather than my version of slapstick humour in mime, i.e. doing the excess body language shaking off phantoms of ghosts enticing signatures in the frost of car glass.* carbon monoxide in cigarettes is most effective after a dinner or a midnight feast. man, i'm just tired, touch too irksome, i have 10,618 poems on my facebook page that no one will read, i'm about to publish a book, yes papyrus print on the continent, but i can't be bothered to feel excited, i feel like alexander dumas having written so many novel but only being remembered for the three musketeers, and that's how it's supposed to be... but it's so damnable, i can't believe i'm to enact a constant here, of myself or some other, it's can't be so damnably courteously 70 years in and nothing more, one might say: one thing to conquer the world and loose a soul, another to conquer the world and loose all sense of continuity of furthering generations of brown-nosing a mozart... the joker's interpretation of nietzsche: what doesn't **** you... only makes you stranger... i have no fighting spirit left in me to pay honesty to the maxim, as philosophers are quick to maxim / maximise a non-existent exemplification, in their spare-time they provide all eloquence of a stated truth but no example to follow: i could write you 20 maxims about something, but none of them would be true had i to write about it in transit of experience.
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38
Dreams committed suicide. Skirts worn on a low aside. I could write you a song but I'm afraid it sounds like others. The reflection of a glare that leaves the dark side of life. For you were told that's the bad side of life. Whatever you think about speak about you create about. That's your power. What is it this power. That I cannot define but simultaneously express and simplify using reduction setting aside marking the difference with a countless vision and division between a rope tied binding our minds. They say you a ***** I'm in love with you. You a keeper. A soul that seeks equilibrium with love and self Isn't that a parallel play ? A fine wrath with a critical eye My job is to give you what you want. My jaw always think about change. Isn't that a deep failure of human complexity. Our knowledge is inversely proportional to the truth. Earth. Life. Are you a brain teaser? You vain. You raucous. The system is upon us. Imaginary is trying to rationalise stupid phrases. What if you just a phrase. Is your name insane or sane. That was rhetorical. You renounce my emancipation. History told me who you are. It told me you a perplexed dogma. A rapid rotation in a circular form. You take half the turn, You don't maximise your circumference, double your radius and square your diameter. Clarity. Enlarge your area. You Ying in the Yang. Your humor is designed to accommodate those who seek knowledge first. Such a disturbing environment. Death examines the cost of the land. Awkward mournings are only recorded in our minds. I don't need a piece of paper to trust you. I don't deserve a ride. I know how and when to trust. I'd be skeptical. How many times have you killed and left wounds lazy to heal. See, with my abilities in life, I'm satisfied because I can't return them. Unless I alter them. Life is an act of offering services and products in exchange of capital charge per item. My life charged me 5 adroit items: • Independence. • Brilliance. • Maturity. • Progress. • Cash. (IBM-PC) In the end... You just a set of events. I define you. You just a set of words. Only self defined and irrationally undefined.
0
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 3:40 PM UTC
Life is a Time Twisted Companion
Dreams committed suicide. Skirts worn on a low aside. I could write you a song but I'm afraid it sounds like others. The reflection of a glare that leaves the dark side of life. For you were told that's the bad side of life. Whatever you think about speak about you create about. That's your power. What is it this power. That I cannot define but simultaneously express and simplify using reduction setting aside marking the difference with a countless vision and division between a rope tied binding our minds. They say you a ***** I'm in love with you. You a keeper. A soul that seeks equilibrium with love and self Isn't that a parallel play ? A fine wrath with a critical eye My job is to give you what you want. My jaw always think about change. Isn't that a deep failure of human complexity. Our knowledge is inversely proportional to the truth. Earth. Life. Are you a brain teaser? You vain. You raucous. The system is upon us. Imaginary is trying to rationalise stupid phrases. What if you just a phrase. Is your name insane or sane. That was rhetorical. You renounce my emancipation. History told me who you are. It told me you a perplexed dogma. A rapid rotation in a circular form. You take half the turn, You don't maximise your circumference, double your radius and square your diameter. Clarity. Enlarge your area. You Ying in the Yang. Your humor is designed to accommodate those who seek knowledge first. Such a disturbing environment. Death examines the cost of the land. Awkward mournings are only recorded in our minds. I don't need a piece of paper to trust you. I don't deserve a ride. I know how and when to trust. I'd be skeptical. How many times have you killed and left wounds lazy to heal. See, with my abilities in life, I'm satisfied because I can't return them. Unless I alter them. Life is an act of offering services and products in exchange of capital charge per item. My life charged me 5 adroit items: • Independence. • Brilliance. • Maturity. • Progress. • Cash. (IBM-PC) In the end... You just a set of events. I define you. You just a set of words. Only self defined and irrationally undefined.
Continue reading...
64
A readied man prepares himself for the schedule he can keep But readied men are not prepared for the undetermined deep The readied man will hold his page of dates and names and numbers But those prepared for certain doom uncertainty encumbers In I ride with fist held high Burning gleam in either eye Shouting upward at the sky: “Burn the syllabi!” Those ready men with paper sheaves, fledgling spears, and Pilot pens Will find that with the chaos waves of fractal truth the world bends And in the bending all exists as nothing more than blank code So ready then your warships, but you’re tacking down the wrong road In I ride with standard high Burning gleam in either eye Shouting upward at the sky: “Burn the syllabi!” The Four Horseman: Complexity, Uncertainty, Recurrence Trajectory will maximise Lyapunov’s occurrence Put on your scheduled armour and when you ride that rigid line Remember that you penned it in and you claimed it would be fine In We ride with fists held high Flaming embers in place of eyes Shouting ‘til the echoes die: “Burn the syllabi!”
0
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:28 PM UTC
Burn the Syllabi