"metacognition" poems
you'd like to argue 'no, your grades don't indicate your intelligence'
because you have bad grades and
you don't want to think of yourself as stupid
and now you've settled yourself into a pit of
oh, I have bad grades, but that means
I'm smart in a better way than them,
it's like a smug superior thing,
like 'those people have such an ordinary intelligence'
and 'here I am, someone whose mind
cannot be contained by this fragile institution'
and you've made yourself satisfied with your bad grades
because you think yourself to be unorthodoxically intelligent
and those who have good grades
are boring, pointless individuals.
you don't want to feel bad about yourself
or put in the work to make them better
so you decided this mindset would work best for you
but I'd like to propose that yes, your grades do indicate your intelligence-
it's only a certain kind of intelligence,
mind you,
but it's the type of intelligence we measure
as ordinary intelligence.
if you have bad grades
you
A) don't understand the material
B) aren't paying attention
C) aren't putting in enough effort
or
D) there is no D
because grades are a combination of homework,
tests,
quizzes,
participation,
and projects.
I get if you're a bad test taker.
I personally don't understand how that works-
like, you get the material
until someone asks you something about it
and then you can't communicate your knowledge?
I mean, if you know something, then you know it,
and putting it on a paper, test or otherwise, shouldn't be difficult
if you actually know what you're talking about.
which ties in to A. if you don't understand it,
then actually,
you C. aren't putting in enough effort.
but okay, I'll accept that reason-
even though I think bad test takers are a myth.
you can't possibly be bad at homework
unless you don't put in the time to do it.
projects, too. if you fail those, you C.
and participation is B.
all those are easily solved by hard work if you
lack, for now, the kind of 'intelligence' we measure.
so if you have bad grades, no, it doesn't mean you're unintelligent.
but it does mean you're lazy.
or have reached a point where you don't believe you can do more-
which is a lie.
because you are capable of solving every problem
you believe you are capable of solving.
and telling yourself 'I'm just not good at school'
guarantees that you are not good at school.
if you appreciate your capability
you can go so much farther.
there is a limit to human potential,
but I don't think it is different for everyone.
I think the limit is where you either
cut yourself off
or
the upper limit-
very few people have reached that limit. perhaps no one.
but it is very high up there.
the limit where you cut yourself off
is that imaginary edge of human behavior
at which people say "boys will be boys"
or "evil is human nature"
or "certain people are more inclined to ____ than others, and I am not one of those people"
or "everybody's potential is different"
because that is not ******* true
your potential is what you say it is
and the line you draw for yourself
is a wall you can now never cross
because you don't think you can
like 'I will never be more than what I am'
or 'All I can be is me'
or 'accept me just the way I am'
because you can be more.
and as a human being with this amazing power of metacognition,
you are obligated to be more
you are obligated to train yourself and
change yourself
and program yourself into the best possible human you can be
because every action you take builds you higher
and every choice you take breaks down the wall
you just have to make the decision that
you will reach the stars
you will do whatever it takes
because at the top of that mountain
you will realize you can do anything now,
you can go anywhere now,
you've made it all the way here-
now to the moon!
and I dare you to go
because I know you can.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
When we found out we weren’t the Center of the Universe
It shook the core of our collective selfish selves.
We called the findings blasphemous
We charged the scientists as heretics
We realized we were less than specks of dust
But worse off because metacognition is unrelenting.
After all these years
The stars remain indifferent to our presence
But we study them all the same
Doting them like a school girl obsessing over a secret crush
Extrapolating their composition while they don’t bat an eye
Humbled at the horrific beauty:
A lonely planet orbiting all too busy universe.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
I'm nocturnal
But I'm glowing inside.
One may not see
Looking from the outside.
Upside and down
Side to side
Confusion all around.
Angry in retrospect
No longer more
I found the confidence
To break away from this internal state of war.
And to explore,
How to love
The joys of a stable core.
Solitude a welcoming friend
I failed to comprehend,
I'm sorry dear one
It was you I needed to work on all along.
Neglecting you were here for the long run,
allowing external influences
To consume, engulf, dictate,
What I was when it was you
But you are me and I am you.
I shall not forget the mark you leave
Because without you I'll give in
To all my insecurities.
Destroying us,
Like a crumbling statue
Leaking water and all that spews.
No longer will I be whole.
Who is you?
For you are not a person.
Non-exsistent.
You're my self-worth, my credence
My internal self.
And till today you belonged detached,
Mismatched, unattached.
And I shall obliterate,
that cognitive state.
For this weak flame shall smother,
And burn bright for those who wish to see.
You are my definitions
My interests, hobbies, passions
Replies and reactions.
You are the tastes buds I so dearly love.
The endless daydreams I conjure
My demure,
For you are me when I am secure.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
☺☻☺☻
When painters who paint about painting
meet writers who write about writing,
self-conscious redundancy
bordering lunacy
ends in esthetic in-fighting.
These modernists, right about nothing
(mostly nihilists mad about something)
are so lost in the process
they vent all their excess
in metacognition: dull writing.
You poets who muse about musing –
unaware you are reader-abusing,
provide a terrific
verbose soporific,
yet not of the hearer’s own choosing…
I long for some righteous verbosity –
but I’m stifled by all the pomposity.
This dull erudition,
“sub-metacognition”,
is but an artistic atrocity.
You thinkers who think about thinking
drag my spirit far lower than sinking.
What we want is a Word
which we haven’t yet heard –
so till then I’ll just drink about drinking.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Little moments peeking
behind my facade of searching
amid trees I'm walking
to you I am talking
About long days I am living
these times are calling
to me, though I'm falling
farther from your embrace
do you miss my words?
those things which betray me
who I am though I am trying
to be me for myself and Him
I feel your guidance
though I am falling again
the tension i'm experiencing
is raking my soul
I watch her watching
nature in her perched loveliness
she knows no bounds
but only because she is without
a mind and understanding
rationality and thinking
are nothing to feeling
for it is by feeling I am alive,
though I don't live by feeling
I am one with Him and He with me
I am the bride of His choosing
but I am not worthy
because I am not working
"my output is my worth" I feel
society watching and weighing
me, through these thick blinds
comparing the next person to my
possessions are these possessions mine?
or do they and I belong
to this world I am living in
I am giving in, seeing in
him and her and all of society
a oneness in charity, if only a malady
of death sweeping over
a cooler portion of earth, her
sweeping dimensions encapsulating and
soaking the mind in
wonder, though I often do not see
the passing of time's painful passing I am
perceiving myself perceiving.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 8:45 PM UTC
have you ever sat and thought about how everything is nothing
and how nothing is really everything
how nothing matters, really, and nothing you say to someone is really
exactly perfect for that moment
because later on, you're just going to go back and think
"saying this would have been better"
and relationships, love, hate
that's not anything either
because it all ends and who is there to read the story afterward
and if there was a story, who would stand to read the heartbreak?
thinking about thinking
thinking about thoughts
about how everything is actually tiny little cells
sparking their tiny existence as if to get something else's attention
but they are too tiny to notice
we can't see the trees for the forest
and really, i wish all that i was was just the tiny invisible cells
so i could drift through matter without being noticed
just drifting along sidewalks and across streets
drifting through existence without a glance from a human
because then i would not feel so acutely conscious
of the stares of others at my broken, huddled, hurting heart
and the hearts around campus that i love
hurting too, because my love could not stand theirs.
it hurts so much, parted without knowing why
and simultaneously knowing it was for the best.
why must anyone have to leave someone they love
just because rationally they know that's not the one for them?
rationalization trumps emotion if you want to continue living
because we all know emotions ****
so we give in to what we know we have to do:
break ourselves, break the other person
and live broken and apart and bleeding all over the concrete ground
wishing for invisibility and refuge.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
As you are reading this
I am standing right behind you
SHING
ha! Fool, you're too slow.
I've teleported exactly 5402.4 miles away from your location already.
This is the power of my metacognition.
Jesus may have walked on water, but my metacognition powers have changed the course of history
Afterall, who won world war 1, 2, gave birth to Albert Einstein and Elon Musk and founded America?
It was only because of the genius of my metacognition
And now, after collecting the 8 chaos emeralds
I have emerged from a chrysalis
And evolved into the perfect being
FEAR ME,FOR MY METACOGNITION LEVELS HAVE ASCENDED TO 5 MILLION TIMES THEIR NORMAL STATE
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
getting used to getting used
ain't that ******* sad
tired of being too tired
to enjoy what i have
waiting just to wait some more
it can't be that bad
it's breaking my heart to break the ties
i never really had
wanting to want you
like you're the only savior
walk it off or walk away
come back never or later
sorry for being sorry
it's just part of my nature
good people do good things
to get rewarded for their behavior
imagine a forever that goes on forever
and you will lose your mind
pieces of me to piece your self back together
solving your puzzle destroys mine
running from them while you're running from me
almost keeping our paces in time
loving someone that is loving someone else
swearing one day they will realize
they don't love you because you don't love yourself
stuck in a lonely loop
why do you only have you
when your biggest is enemy is you
lie to them so they will lie to you
because you can't face the truth
hurt them like they hurt you
but is that really what you want to do
he's sad so your sad
but you are still alone
calling his phone while they're calling your bluff
silence and a ringtone
face to face then skin to skin
but you don't feel it in your bones
you got what you wanted but its not what you wanted
confused and don't know where to go
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 2:49 PM UTC
Transcendentalist conceit. My choice of delivery. Arbitrary? Perhaps, but fun. And it gave me an excuse to stall for quality. But apparently it became a stream of consciousness somewhere along the line. It also seems to be coming along in a sort of meta(physical) fashion. Metacognition. All (the) techniques I like.
I like you.
Parallel inspiration, a sublime way to, again, stall, also to make it interesting. But the comparison is difficult to find. Hidden in the æther, as it was.
What are you?
A tree?
Nature?
Air,
earth,
water,
fire,
or spirit?
Life?
Death?
All,
or even nothing?
No.
So far into this frozen in time facsimile of my mind, of me, yet still you know not what I think of you as, what I contrast you with. What I
Compare
you to. What I
Expect
you to
Live Up To.
Anxiety?
How many poems will I write before this ones done? ultimately one, yet many. Am I stalling even now? A tease of sorts. I am quite good at that. The conceit. What is it?
Do you want it?
A hundred thousand parallel rush through my mind only to be pushed off the line. A note written by my current and intended audience printed "I love you".
I underline you and return to sender.
Inspiration! flooding my mind!
Are you sharp enough to have discerned the parallel yet? hopefully. But if you think you are, you're wrong. There is no parallel. Moreover, a parallel poorly defines a line. what we really need is a co-linear expression. In truth, the conceit is pretty conceited.
I compare you to you.
My grand conceit.
When you I see, see I you.
I see the candid truth that you duplicitous lie. I see your beauty alongside your failure to recognize and believe.
I see you.
And I love what I see.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
don't inflict me with your
introspection,
dangerous, idle, self-reflection,
tap out of my headspace
my cerebral territory is not a good place
I don't need to think about my thinking
metacognition is a fruitless mission
I'm telling you now
get out
get out
get out
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 10:34 PM UTC
starving myself
into submission
the casual result
of unchecked ambition
the focusing factors
the aderall
and ritalin
try to drown me but
i hang tight
on the sight
of an unbroken vision
my actions, my words
under constant revision
revisit the sites
where i break
down decisions
had options
i lost them in
thoughtless
metacognition
and
i know i’m long gone
cause i’m stuck in remission
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC