"memorization" poems
I find myself in a daydream about those lips
Slowly caressing every inch of my body down to my hips
Leaving me in such a state that I cannot control mouth
Deep moans of yes and no and baby please don’t stop
I find myself surrounded in your arms, lost in your voice
I’m not fighting the mood but it takes m y body by force
Blessing my ears with such a tone of memorization
Sending me into a ****** state of confusion
That only you control and I dare not fight the hold
Cause everything you are doing is like food to my soul
As if I need it to continue for my own survival
The thought of you stopping and leaving gives me a taste of dehydration
Hogging this glass of water to the death of me, you hydrate me
Close my eyes as I continue to steady my breath
So much water I’m drowning in my water flow
Trying desperately to keep my head above the current only to be dragged down to the bottom
The water overtaking my body granting me the pleasure of feeling every desire you have
Reaching out for your face to pull you close, gazing into those eyes
Seeing the passion you have for me only takes us to new depths of waters
Suddenly the effort to breath becomes easier as we are exchanging an never ending oxygen support
Legs wrapped around you waist, squeezing to keep you near
As my body is shaking with overwhelming pleasure from this sea we have created
Wanting to bring you to the edge of the waterfall and watch you overflow your self
Both of us deep underwater submerged in love
Suddenly floating to the surface again
It seems we overdosed on love, in our own sea we drowned.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
The inverse of error
A metaphorical math
Because I rhyme so sick in season
You can call men Sylvia Plath
You can call me Sylvia Plath
Spilling verses accidental
Spilling blood like pen and paper
Give me rock paper, scissors—construction
Philosophy of metaphors—the reciprocal of destruction
Creation in deviation
Multiplication in meditation and mesmerizing memorization
Mad in the head, but I’m a mat-hatter for love
'A zombie by neuroses
A zombie by drugs
But on those pharmaceutical
Cause cut **** is for thugs
(3% probability
Is in the margin of error
How many times have we ******
And would you even care?
Oh, despair. The plague of a woman-
Slick wit like slick ****
And you can call these rhymes grimy
Because I’m cleaning your eyes with it.)
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
Enough-
Its enough having these corporations run our nation while the infiltration of money making keeps destroying world peace aspirations-
Its like Satan and his manipulation keep telling me that success lies in the accumulation-
And the accumulation of that money making is what makes life exhilarating?
And the exhilaration of materialization keep growing as a representation of America’s successful creation-
And soon it becomes discrimination-
Upper class elevation vs. lower class stipulations-
The poor patient vs. Rich patience-
The barring margin of APR regulations-
Keep our nation rotating-Gaining speed and evaluating-
The appreciation of desperation is all for corporate gaming-
The memorization and commercialization keep our nation deprecating from the rest of the worlds visualizations-
Our accreditation creates frustration-
Segregation and integration by the new world organization-
Integration to a peaceful appropriation is questioned by this American administration-
AND I QUESTION IT?
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 2:04 PM UTC
I can see it
intriguing smile, flirty eyes,
hair just so, to where it falls across my face.
My breath caresses the mic as if
a snake charmer wooing a cobra.
The crowd leans in
ever so slightly
in one uniform motion
but each are unaware of the others.
Confident, charming
I own them for that moment
and everything I say matters.
Maybe too much.
They chant with me
cult-like in rhythm
and memorization-of idle words
profanely displayed on billboards,
websites, anything at all.
They drink it in- starving to be inspired.
They are without, and I’ve convinced them I’m with.
With what? With consumerism,
battling to control their
next poorly placed dollar?
with knowledge that they don’t have?
Why don’t they have it? Have they tried?
No, of course not. This liberty island has
given up on the American dream; hoping
it can be fought from a prostrate position
on an over-stuffed couch from their
over-stuffed mouths.
They’ve been stuffed with too much power,
too much misplaced freedom.
America, you are no longer free. You chain yourself
with entitlement and ownership.
You force your ideals on any too weak
to speak up for their own. You have turned
into one giant, fifth grade girl fight
with hair-pulling, pinching and screams.
You don’t even know why you fight anymore,
do you?
Feb 20, 2010
Feb 20, 2010 at 3:02 PM UTC
Beside the window sits chirping
Chirping
Chirping
Birds! I'm trying to write. DBQ... FRQ..... Fml...
Starting-
passing by the sun hides behind the top of the sky
Noon- I'm trapped
Black
white
Colorless ideas and sights
"Opinions" used to persuade the guard to mark down you did all right in your studies
Adolescents- slaves to your presence
Obey the clock
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick
"talk" speak your mind as long as I agree
God forbid,
My mind wanders
Far away lands,
Flowers unsold
People oh so bold
Love un-withhold
Stories untold
Take hold!
Wake up!
Absorb this!
My soul is invalid...as I am a slave to sick, adolescent oppression
Education is just memorization.
.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
i
am
human
just like you
grew up confused
fused into a small hole
quite the ***** up
but focused
we are all like lines
i build escape plans through words
every time I find myself stuck
i find escape within me
i find escape in books
i took from my imagination
and drew inspiration
we are all like lines
lines guided my curvy path
life was a little like math class
nothing but memorization
strangers act like they don't remember that we were once friends
last year, last month, last night
or
in the past life
we are all like lines
some of us
meet with someone else
and we intersect once
we make contact
and touch
but funny enough
we never really touch
on an atomic level
our atoms repel
we are like lines
perpendicular
and
never cross paths again
but some of us
meet with someone else
never make contact
or
touch
we are like lines
parallel
we go on forever
but
never intersect
we are all like lines
i saw lines in the way i manipulated
the pen
the pencil
the brush
the spray can
i spray my pseudonym on your wall
well
because I can
the paint
dripping from the walls like
blood streaming down my eyes
the pain
a distraction that
kept me alive
kept me awake at night
kept me away from the safety of my home
but also
kept me away from the dangers of my home
a contradiction
i was living in the streets
the days i never came home
i was living in the streets
the days i never came home
i saw lines in capturing moments
the symmetry in architecture
in nature
i saw myself as a temple
a monument
we are all like lines
i saw lines in guitars
and
how i can change the sound each string makes in endless ways
but in reality
the guitar changed me
it changed the way i tune myself
i finally felt in tune with the world
the fire was inside me
when i took the first breath of air
the water was inside of me
science and religion
i was never thirsty
the earth is really old is all i know
growing up i never learned
never learned how to say no
always afraid of getting old
i forgot the lines i forever rehearsed
the day my mom found out i smoke ****
my eyes were low
and
so was
i
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
The human body
Regenerates completely new skin cells
Approximately every
27 days
I say this knowing
That I am someone
Your hands have never gotten to know
My skin has mourned the loss of your touch
Grieved for the freckles that never got to know your warmth
No memorization of the path your fingertips took while
Tracing the lines of my skin
I am a whole new person
Since you've last held me
My body
Is not the only thing that has changed
Crazy how
So much can differ
From the last time
You knew me
But today
You don't
It only took 27 days for me to become someone else
I am someone else now
My limbs can attest to that
They no longer crave to be cradled by your arms
You do not know me
And it only took 27 days for me to realize
That I
Never really knew you
At all.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
I am memorizing
the shape of your teeth, the crater on the side of your right cheek
when you smile, resembling
the California coast
your concentrating face,
the way you dance like
the only other person in the room
has already returned home
how you wrap your arm
around my waist as if you already know
that I am going to fly far,
far
away
This is how I know
that no matter where I build my home,
mine will always reside
in the heart of the only man who has memorized
the way I eat my dinner with my fingers
and the way I will always pray
to love him
for as long
as we are given
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
I've never cared too much for history, found no appreciation
for it's multitude of names we commit to memorization
there's a certain friend of mine, born in 1989-
Sir Maximilian Relaxilian- and he lacked all motivation
Since the origin of time, I have traced his family line
and their genetic disposition towards supreme relaxation
He's the great great great great grandson
of the founder of vacation.
And this founder's son Clyde, well, he invented the slide
Clyde's kid brother Greg helped patent the keg.
And Greg's great grandson Snyder sold the very first recliner.
So whenever Max was challenged, troubled, bothered, or confused,
He'd recite his family tree, and use the very same excuse:
"Hereditary mutations within each generation!"
And so he sat around and slept,
But never cleaned and never swept,
Never ran, never lept,
His promises were never kept.
Maximilian never managed once to get up off his ****
too tuckered out for bowling, just too lazy to putt;
He Never traveled to the sink nor had he once bothered to think,
too coward for a shower, found no reason not to stink.
And then one super lazy afternoon a quarter after two,
Maximilian had a visitor, I promise this is true:
A tiger stood outside the door which he was too lazy to lock
as if he'd try to find the **** beneath the pile of ***** socks.
And then of course, it's no surprise he couldn't hear the kitty knock
and once you hear what happened next I guarantee you will be shocked...
The tiger tickled him
and giggled him
until his ticker stopped.
So next time you think of staying in,
instead of going out-
or complain about the effort
that it takes to leave the couch,
Or refuse to leave the sheets or venture from a cozy pouch...
just remember Maximilian Relaxilian, King of Slouch
and stay out of bed instead,
stretch your legs and use your head
then count your blessings, kiss your mother
motivate one another.
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 9:08 PM UTC
Deutschland
So many countries
der Deutsche die Deutsche
So viele Nationalitäten
All meant for memorization
Großbritannien
as if
der Brite die Britin
students are
Schottland
Robots
der Schotte die Schottin
But hey
die Schweiz
at least
der Schweizer die Schweizerin
I now know
Luxemburg
them all
der Luxemburger die Luxemburgerin
in German.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
These kids don't care anymore,
we're out of the time of cursive writing,
when there would be an apple on my desk,
kids would only groan when asked to clean the erasers.
These kids are going to live,
in parent's basements, awaiting dinner and laundry,
rather than actively seeking adulthood.
What happened between my time and theirs,
causing them to become so electronic?
These kids don't make eye contact,
staring blankly into pixels,
unable to draw away from their techno-seduction.
These kids can not learn,
for they're only taught memorization,
then forget all of the rest.
These people expect me to teach,
but how can I do so when they're already powered down,
disconnected and wandering lost,
needing their fix of a shocking brightness,
they call a new and better world.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
You asked me why I traced the lines on your face,
I couldn't bear to tell you that I wanted your skin to burn my fingertips until we met again.
I found myself staring while you were sleeping, memorizing your every feature.
I don’t want to forget even the tiniest freckle.
I could paint every square inch of your room with utmost detail.
I memorized it while you were dreaming of all the places you'd rather be, and I was awake from the horrors of the nightmare that is your departure.
Maybe if I don't forget the view from my side of the bed, I'll be able to close my eyes and still imagine things haven't changed.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Memorization is not education.
Success is a fixed point,
Success is not happiness.
Fame is not acceptance.
Your destiny is not defined by any book,
Unless you allow it to be.
Books do not define your destiny,
Unless you allow them to.
What happens beyond death can not be known,
It can not be known what happens beyond death.
I am whoever I am,.
And you are whoever you are.
Originally written 7/26/11
Revised 10/20/14
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
How can you reach the unreachable
So high that you are beyond the sky
Subconscious moving to your conscience
Making reality real
Sometimes it's a steal from your memorization
Libations to your membrane
Feeding it to exhaustion
Maybe you will get lost in plant 54
Making you want more till you've reached your limit
Maybe jus one more minute till you get there
Feeling experiences that seem to be so rare
Cases if boxes packing and packing away your cares while you climb to plant 54
Store open for business
Satire feeling
Metaphorical misleadings
Stairs leading all the way to the top of plant 54
Shouting from the top or actually the peak of mount leaf
Feeling like the chief of a tribe
Strive no starving for better
Maybe I can get a letter from my favorite person all the way on planet 54
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
The fallow flags lull in a languid sway at half-staff
flaccid reminders for those who quickly forget
limp in the wind as faint as that day
commemoration of anniversaries' memorization's
plaintive anguished lamentations jeering at
the stuffy affected and tired testimonials
torpid, dense and listless as the President's third rehearsed
recited repeated languorous speech of the day
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
~~~
sometimes right and wrong,
good and bad,
are accurate single summaries of
the momentary episodes,
the essays,
that constitute the whole human voyage
to parts unknowable
there are but a handful of persons
who might fit the lightness
of your loveliest of theories
but how could you know
that long ago,
one declared independence from the
oppression of personal dependencies,
from either
admissible fear,
more than,
admirable courage
and yet,
those few,
those so very precious few,
a band, a squad, a fireteam
of successful piercers of
the bark of an ever scaling armor,
are warmth welcomed and comforted
within my hearts hearth,
under the protection
of my soul's furnace,
for welcoming flawed me,
fully,
without reservation
Nowadays,
I write mostly for
the lost children,
the lost loves,
the long agos of long ago,
those whose caring and loss,
scars and medals
somehow
were adjudged,
deemed too costly,
for everyday wearing
and for
those mates,
whose caring and the sharing
of their losses,
demands memorization, savoring,
writing down,
proofs of open boundaries
for me,
***in the losing, is the saving,
in the poems that honor recall,***
therein, thereof, and
thereby,
gaining
for our lives,
a modest, husbanded,
allowance,
a fund mutual,
of caring,
hard earned
and keeping us alive
~~~
October 26, 2015
8:48 AM
NYC
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 5:34 PM UTC
Don't look me in the eyes are say you are hear to teach
***** please that's the last thing that you need to preach
I stand in a room listening to you speak of learning and education
Funny when they only thing I'm learning is how to ration
thoughts in my mind race like booming speakers
playing music so loud you feel it in your sneakers
I guess I'm not here to make much sense
but now is the time for the system to pay their rent
rental space in my mind
consuming time
thoughts that are no longer mine
Pressed into my brain this idea of education
running this **** like some federation
can't get thoughts in between regurgitated words and facts
Well I think my brain has hit the max
Maximum capacity for the ******** you're spewing
I will no longer be chewing
your lies and conformity
treating different learning like a deformity
No longer an idea of teaching
but memorization
words on a page
Here in this developmental stage
all because they are going through some 'phase'
that makes them stupid
Most of us are fluent
So don't tell me I'm not smart
because I don't know the periodic table by heart
because I'm not well versed in trail of the court
don't tell me I'm stupid
Just because I'm human
That's something that is overlooked
by the ones forcing you to study the books
Unable to see there is something to be said about knowledge of life
Or even the knowledge
not to get
pushed over the edge
Because sometimes enough is enough
And believe me
this "education" **** *****
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
There's is a rusty orange clad brick building
perched upon a mossy green hill
everyday day we sit in the same seats
and look out the same glass that locks us in
and gaze down upon the hill
hoping,
searching for something more out of this life
something that fits our desires,
something we will never know.
Because they say the more we are sedentary,
the more our intelligence will grow.
Surely they have it all figured out all wrong
what they have created is
a cold hearted machine.
A machine of memorization,
A machine of 'the right way'
the 'only way'
of 'yes please's'
and never of 'no's.'
They say if one morning we decided to turn around
and never look back we would drop dead.
But what happens when my house forecloses,
because no one taught me how to handle money?
What happens when I turn to pills to keep me alive
because no one told me the basic skills of survival?
What happens when I am out on the street,
frigid and alone,
with a cardboard box and a bottle of liquor as my only two friends?
Will algebra help me?
What about Chemistry?
Will those pain staking hours of note taking
help me pick up the pieces of my life?
No.
Surely then I will be dead.
Gone.
Along with my intelligence
and my creativity.
Six feet under
that mossy green hill.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
You paid more attention
To your red letters
Than to the colored words of
Jesus.
I guess accessibility is what it takes
To name our identity.
Mean words were accessible to you,
Easier to come by than scripture.
Already imprinted in your head
From childhood,
No need for memorization
Or word for word quotation,
Or chapter and verse
References.
It didn’t matter who said what.
Cruelty is easy.
Cruelty’s simplicity made it easy
To write your own red letter verses
On your body.
After all,
All you had to do to find the right tool
Was to open a drawer and find a razor blade,
Not leaf through thousands of strangely thin pages
And tiny columned sentences.
So now in this new era
Of adulthood,
I try to make love
Accessible to you,
I try to make it accessible to myself.
No more red letters in pale skin,
Just glowing love
Held in the palms of our hands
Well past midnight,
Made of pixelated letters
Typed by nail-bitten thumbs.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
What am I
But a memorization of
Echoes
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
the walls are white
it's cold
I thought the sheer amount of people
would keep this warm,
but no one is really here
is it an asylum?
does being insensitive
not drive you insane
is it a prison?
the rows are straight
all surfaces are hard
the clocks tick
the bells are deafening
the fluorescents are blinding
immersing into the masses
another brick in the wall
education, the most powerful tool
traded for memorization and regurgitation
cookie cutter people
tossed into the world
told to be innovative
think outside of the box
we put you in
the rows we sat you in
the white walls we trapped you in
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 12:31 PM UTC
Scorpion, scorpion, who brought the pen
The tip of its tail, the needles sharp end
Poisonous dagger, To write all your wishes
****** soiled, bundled up tissues
Issues and cashews and nuts
Insanity.
Rhinoceros, rhinoceros, have you the tusk
The one on your nose, the jungled rough musk
Broken and bleeding torn from your face
Now beautiful laced girls
Discover your pearls
Thieves.
Fathers and mothers, did you bring the child
Shattered, broken, seen with both vile
Bangs and pangs broken dishes, birds sang
That night along with the screams
Did you believe
Destruction.
Artist, artists, have you the pieces
The ones of your life, sadness, defeation
The black strokes, lonely tokes
And pills and late sat to smoke
What does it all mean, by life
Uninspired.
Dictators, dictators, did you bring your people
The hobbled and squabbled, who prayed in the steeple
Who hung from the rafters, and rang with the bells
For whom it tolls, well, no one tells
And lost citizens
Vanish.
Butterflies, butterflies, did you keep your promise
Mottled, and bottled, spread across lawn mist
To be beautiful, shiny with no varnish
Your caterpillar state should not tarnish
The wings you have now
Growth.
Children, children, did you steal the money
For xanax, tricks, and acid, your'e funny
Brain dead generation
Same dread, memorization
Of all the dead jokes
Sad.
Villagers, villagers, did you burn the witch
The bloodied open stitch
That tore the wound of the town
And they all began to drown
In truths they didn’t like
Characters.
Kitten, kitten, did you trick the boy
Into finding your, mangled, ticked, body
Squashed, splattered, with marks in your back
Circled rocks, flowers, hit and smack
The dirt down flat
Betrayal.
Conscience, conscience, did you make me feel that way
For something I thought, for something I might not say
For something I did, and something I am
Why do you threaten
Why do I listen
shiver.
Ghosts, ghosts, do you really terrify
Blankets, and behind walls spy
Sheets, and bags of treats
You saw it all, naked
Through the clear square wall, sacred
Innocence.
Creatures, creatures, you dwelled in the cave
Red, glowing eyes. Blue burning rave
You crawl out at night
To get a good sight
Of all of the people passed out drunk
loneliness.
Beware this place.
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:57 PM UTC
Time is short, Jesus said:
Before the **** crows thrice,
Eyes burning like ten thousand suns
Weeping at the wailing wall, stretching
Across a valley of broken sighs.
Time is short, how could we forget
The child we smothered, inside of us;
Dumbed him down with memorization,
With bus route schedules,
Black-booked itineraries.
Time is short, and full of woe
As the evil of the day triumphs again,
And our grief is always sufficient unto us:
It fills up the raging emptiness-
When it comes knocking on our door,
We no longer act surprised.
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 4:08 PM UTC