"modify" poems
*be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit
give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration
so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction
more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying
speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them*
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
The engineers they tweak the DNA,
fostering changes to the RNA,
the plants becoming something else,
immunevolution modify man’s health.
And never will they accept the blame,
for their arrogance and dangerous game;
and when the food cannot be eaten?
History recall of the viral cretins.
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 11:12 PM UTC
the extermination of the straight white male
soon we will be gone and the remainder carried over into zoos for
“safekeeping,” our DNA and ***** harvested for science purposes
you will be pitched advertisements
send $ to San Diego Zoo so they can save the few remaining
white rhinos (which they neglect to mention are in preserves in Kenya and the Sudan, but send $$ a way)
and the last three straight white guys
(surfer, techie, and an aborigine)
to preserve the species so the world can modify their cells
to stop sexism, racism and other male diseases
gonna maybe mate them with the rhinos,
which will be expensive cause of all the rhinoplasty,
so send me some
money, money, money
yup
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 4:37 PM UTC
It all begins
With pronouns
I becomes the subject
Of my project
Adding you
And collectively we
I choose you and me
And I exclude the he and the she
Until I am certain of we
You and I pick verbs
actions
Inflect them to match
fit
begin narratives
Transitive verbs take objects
You touch
tickle
tease
taste
take skin
*******
lips
me with words
Words have become a clause
But still a simple construction
So, you tickle me where?
For this you need a preposition
To position your tickling ammunition
Do you touch
tickle
tease me ON my *******
*******
thighs
buttocks
****
Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth
****
soul?
Positioning is envisioning.
Then you use adjectives
To modify descriptions of
Sensory inscriptions
So, gentle complements touch
Soft and passionate kiss
And you become superlative
And adverbs elaborate experience
expression
exploration
You fill me deeply
thoroughly
violently with all that is you
But adverbs can also mean time
Not sweet or cursed time
Or time denoting age
But timing is always important
And grammar dictates
That
Time adverbs are placed
As a beginning or an end
Like a lover's embrace
Thus,
This morning, you woke me with
A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow.
Conjunctions are sentence connectors
And sentences behave like detectors
Bodies balancing with and, but, or
Otherwise subordinate
And the scale tips towards
Conditioning hypotaxis
Making actions a complicated praxis
(before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it)
But we coordinate conjunctions
Equally
I touch you
You touch me
Exploring
Exploding sensory functions
So, together we cry imperatives
Completing our ****** narratives
Moaning
Whimpering
Begging
Yelling: Please... bind me!
touch me!
bite me!
take me!
come!
Oh! Please, come!
I love the English language... ;)
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
•
Fix
me•
Mend
me•Stitch
me•Overhaul
me•Amend me•
Alter me•Modify me
•Enhance me•Patch me•
Adjust me•Heal me•Correct
me•Reform me•Shift me•Renew
me•Remedy me•Rebuild me•Aid
me•Assist me•Change me•Rectify
me•Troubleshoot me•Revive me•
Assemble me•Calibrate me•
Service me•Love me•
Repair me•
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC
Left myself behind for Thy sake
Modify me through soul's remake
O' Lord! can't be more of a betrayer
Still though, I yearn for a divine remake
My heart is in Makkah
My heart is in Makkah!
Eyes can't bear watching, but none bothers
I ask for protection, for me and my brothers
Extreme suffering, such a cruel massacre
I ask for Jannah, for me and my brothers
Over our heads have we turned ******* n waste
I ask for purification, for me and my brothers
None cares for the sufferers as though not human
I ask Thy attention, for me and my brothers
My heart is in Palestine
My heart is in Palestine!
I plea to be bathed in the divine henna
In the home of the Prophet, madina madina
In the land of peace, make me offer a prayer
For me, my fellows, in the heart of madina
Revive once again the brotherhood amongst us
Like them ansaris and muhajirs of madina
Can't wait but for a chance or an opportunity
Offering myself forth, take me to madina
My heart is in Madina
My heart is in Madina!
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 8:45 AM UTC
Among'st a non-judging expanse,
Creative clouds dance.
Through fields one might prance,
Find a tree and sit
Or take a different stance.
See it fully or just give a glance~
The clouds, they form in multiplicities,
Reflecting simplicity;
Expanding creative form explicitly.
What'll it be?
How'll it grow?
Beautiful sky of freedom's form,
Modify your figure and break the norm.
Show me what never dies and is forever born~!
And reveal to us in time what is on the inside,
Usually hidden when worn.
I saw this in the clouds today, when I was bored..
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
I simply cannot wait,
until the internet
turns public favor
against religion.
In its place,
the medium that
enables globalization
will exalt science.
We will not fear
being wrong.
Instead,
we will embrace
skeptical thinking,
and live according to
a collective consensus
that is based in truth,
and not in fear.
The problem lies
not with your
personal connection
to the cosmos,
but with the
established doctrine
orchestrated by the elite.
Parables and allegory
twisted by the desperation
of power hungry men.
Stories that offer
reasonable moral lessons,
but are mistakenly perceived
to be literal truth.
Religion continues to
justify acts of prejudice
and violence,
in the name of
storybook characters.
We must rise above
our iron age fairy tales.
Heed the positive lessons,
relinquish our fear of death,
and learn to exist
with an open mind.
Survival depends not
on who is the strongest
or who has the best story,
but rather upon a species
willingness and capacity
to adapt and modify
their behavior.
Science is our tool.
It can save us
from ourselves.
It is a collective enterprise
based upon critical analysis
and the constant pursuit of the
cold, hard truth.
We should not fear
what we discover.
For knowledge can be
spiritually fulfilling.
The real beauty of truth
based upon empirical evidence,
is that even if you do not want
to believe it,
it remains true.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
364
The Morning after Woe—
’Tis frequently the Way—
Surpasses all that rose before—
For utter Jubilee—
As Nature did not care—
And piled her Blossoms on—
And further to parade a Joy
Her Victim stared upon—
The Birds declaim their Tunes—
Pronouncing every word
Like Hammers—Did they know they fell
Like Litanies of Lead—
On here and there—a creature—
They’d modify the Glee
To fit some Crucifixal Clef—
Some Key of Calvary—
4.4k
Caramel skin that got painted on by the needle.
You are inked from head to toe.
Art done to you by different hands, they must have felt privileged to touch such a tender canvas.
Like the butterfly on your stomach, you have transformed, tattoo metamorphosis.
Pain, the sting of the honeybee.
Bearing the ****** even though you bleed.
Written on the flesh, drawn upon the flesh, a story of who you are eternally expressed.
I want to read your body and understand each chapter.
Tattoos and piercings modify your outer appearance, exactly how you want it to be.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
the title is meant to be ironic
enough to draw the attention
of the easily offended and
dramatic internet users
who happen to cross this
poem.
it's ironic because 'Gay' & 'Bible'
usually come in contention;
words unfit to modify the other
a neon g-string preist is odd
but *it ain't necessarily
so*.
I explained this.
A sign of the times,
It's my crisis
I'll exist if I want to.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Charity starts at home don't we say?
Be kind to your kith and kin come what may.
A family's not only your safe haven
Tis pals your very own roots
Water these shoots with love devoid of hate
So they bear you sweeter fruits.
Maybe you'd say that's not so easy
but perhaps that's coz you just too busy
Or your clock just don't chime
for quality family time?
For if you can't make time for a letter or a hug
Then let my poem give your conscience a gentle tug.
And if this may sound like a very preachy homily
Deserves much more mention and affection the family
If you can make time for so many other things
some of them not even worthwhile
Try discover the happiness family brings
Just a tad modify that routine lifestyle.
My words in crystal clear clarity
sing compassion is likewise a charity
Charity need not be for strangers only
Find out who needs help in kindred and family
Ties of kinship severe not
Value the relations you've got
Your siblings, cousins from your family tree
and all else that you call family.
What supports and buttresses your family tree are your very own roots
And what keeps the tree living on are your beloved offshoots
Love and regard is quintessential to reaping sweeter fruits
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
majestic adjectives
of contrary harmonies,
adverbs in adversity
that modify our satisfactions,
gut punch our eyes,
scramble the taste buds,
now inoperable,
incapacitated to distinguish
what is disturbed -
what is sweet -
what is impossible.
my days ending is
nearer to my god than thee,
the crumblings of
what I’ve got left
stale panko crumbs,
here come they in
1000 radium-tipped
projectiles of
serious humorous
self-destruction,
gifted to you!
my few
itinerant followers
peddlers brave enough
to offer shelter,
to follow me
into the deeps of
radioactive incomprehension,
of no particular disorders
a thousand times
bless you
richly, eachly,
name announced, pronounced,
we are all proper nouns.*
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 5:29 PM UTC
My absence was a mortifying misfortune,
The ponies drew their swords at the amity,
The sunset hung close to my crackling toes.
And the rings of ardor were a constant reminder of the fall.
We know we rise again in the sunrise
but the plastic hair gave fraud to wishes we made days before.
The soldiers clamped their wings tight
The circle had not comprehended the fight we fought for.
The context of these misused actions could be used to modify.
“Please come again” The narrator spoke.
We rode the carousel again.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 1:33 PM UTC
insidious newsfeed.
apathetic "like"
(I guess they're getting married.)
assessing my worth
'friend' counts and Klout scores.
modify your post to be pleasant,
as to 'dislike' something
deems it unworthy of notice.
"Just got arrested, #lol-- free breakfast."
We are becoming a collective
of aging selfies and
isolated narcissists.
dissociative culture.
I am desensitized to my own
most precious moments
and have condensed their value
into how many people
care enough to click a button.
blending into the numbers
we are in the back seat of our own lives
and our weekly web-content
is drunk behind the wheel.
You don't need a machine
or the internet
to tell you
you're anything less
than beautiful
and a star,
inside and
out.
-r0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Some poems never end,
Nor were meant too.
Alliterative phrases, invitations,
Add a verse, a word, even a sound,
An exclamation of delight,
A stanza in its own right.
Unfinished work, forever additive, collaborative.
Modify mine, pass it on,
Free to steal it,
For ownership passes to you,
with your first reading,
And lost when you close it,
Stamp it and release it into the atmosphere.
But some poems do. End.
Unique and distinct,
Pockmarked-faced at birth.
Owned by my initials,
Never to see the shelves of a
Lending Library.
Like this one:
*Cannot remember a single day
When suicidal thoughts
Were not heard clearly above the fray
Of jingle-jangled, responsibilities
Demanding my immediate attention.*
The end.
NML
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 10:56 PM UTC
We've both been through a lot lately,
Enough that we make the most
of distractions that present themselves.
I don't like to sit down and study
How a signal from your brain,
Reaches receptors in your toes;
Or how a muscle twitches.
And you don't like to be alone.
It's been our tradition,
The three of us,
Since we were about fifteen,
To modify our bodies;
(read: mutilate).
We pierce and ink ourselves.
You got your jumping Koi
When you were fifteen
Still in high school.
We got our ******* pierced in the last year of school,
Bored with the idea of maths or science
We wanted something interesting,
And that's what we came up with.
You came back to school
And couldn't stop showing people,
Even when they didn't want to see.
We all got our animals together,
My cicada, your frog, your bird,
The leaver's dinner for school was that night.
We were still rebels.
Then uni last year,
Two quotes in braille around our ribs,
And your quote in Latin
(which turned out to be Italian)
"No lies, just love."
Now today,
A new cat on my arm
And a rose on the back of your neck.
We are perfect,
Immaculate.
Procrastination at it's finest.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
Unknown Variables
The phrase pokes me the eye,
demanding obeisance and a
poem,
My compliance is required,
not demanded, but required,
for the “unknown variables”
conundrum, roots around in
my brain cells necessitating a
cleansing,
Walking down the street is
fraught, unknown variables
everywhere, popping out like
cutouts on a law enforcement
shooting course, requiring
instant delineation between
killing not good guys and only bad guys,
no hostages, civilians and no them,
poets,
Can you test for unknown
variables?
Of course not.
Unknown is a condition,
that you cannot drop in
to ascertain what condition
your multiple conditions are
in,
Then there is you.
You,
reader, are an unknown
variable, ripe with nearly
nuclear reaction potential,
you are fissionable material,
capable of destruction of
my explosive
creation,
Assessing the poem,
do you conclude,
keep/discard, remake?
now,
poem a known variable, asking
that it becomes a parcel of
your multivariate inputs,
a familiar variable, that can
charm, destroy, mislead, or
even, fulfill a need, make a
reckoning, modify your brain;
all those dangerous things
that are permissible when
first you read a newly constant
known variable,
a perpetually reborning
poet?
postscript
-------------
my name is brandy channing
and once upon a time,
I was e STEM major
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 2:41 PM UTC
If I could find a way to capture
the exact essence of you,
believe me I would.
And if I could find a way to modify the base pair sequences
which code my DNA
so that I would be
the person you wanted,
believe me I would.
But I cannot portray you,
because I do not know exactly what you are
or who you are,
or why you are.
And I cannot be the person
you wish that I would be,
because you will not let me inside the bullet proof shell
of your head.
So I will let it be enough, watching you
strut around streets pretending that these things
are really all you want,
when you are, in reality, almost dreaming of beaches and cliffs
and people
who I have never met
and who I will never be,
and I suppose
I will just have to pretend to be okay with that.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 6:31 AM UTC
You said my fears were irrational
But how do you deem irrational
That which a person whom
Is deeply in love with you
Deems rational,
How do you deem
My fear of losing you
Irrational?
Look at us now
The mess we've become
We've become such a wreck
A train wreck,
That even the finest form of grafitti
Cannot modify
How do you live with yourself
Knowing that you're the one
Who sinked our love boat
Now we're just another superstructure
Consumed whole,
By the unfathomable depth
Of the endless sea,
From the brutal storms of life
We didn't foresee
We cried of pain from heart fracture
Is it love that you lacked
Or was your sense of reasoning somewhat hacked?
How do you sleep, knowing that
You're the one who ripped apart
The delicate petals
To this precious rose of ours
Perhaps you won't make it
To be in the running,
In the Oscars
For the best actor award
But you do at least, deserve a few medals
Like the paraplegic athlete Oscar
For the best disloyalty
I confessed my fears unto you
And all you could do was laugh it off
You brushed the subject off
As if it were a speck of dust
On your shoulders
Rendering your pride, a form of rust
How could you have traded
Unconditional love
For irrefutable lust
You were once my pride and joy
But now a stranger you've become
Another somebody, I used to know
Sad part is that your presence
No longer brings any joy
How could you say that
My fears were irrational
When you fell into the same trap
I warned you of
How could you say
That my fears were irrational
When you succumbed to the spell
And didn't get choked by the smell
Of our burning bridge
How could you just stand there
And watch, while everything
We've ever worked for
Is burning down to dust?
Look at us now.
A premeditated crime scene we are
No evidence left to prove how close we once were
Not even a chalk outline
Look at us now.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
Go on, my Son, go out and box,
don't wave this chance good-bye,
Switch from Southpaw to Orthodox.
The Judges have it Fifty/Fifty, an equinox,
apply yourself. . . apply,
Go on my Son, go out and box.
Keep it crafty, like the fox,
acid to his alkali,
Switch from Southpaw to Orthodox.
Jab, Jab, Hook! Unpick the locks,
it's time to modify,
Go on my Son, go out and box.
Unloading pallets of concrete blocks
until the day you die ?
Switch from Southpaw to Orthodox.
Win this Round, escape the docks,
would I tell you a lie ?
Go on my Son, go out and box,
Switch from Southpaw to Orthodox.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:45 PM UTC
winter has crept from it's cathedral with it's blue loom of white sod
against black crows and over-coats. we awaken in our separate pause
and modify our crumpets with thin icing,
drizzled over moon faced scones -
as golden as your marmoset of port wine
and wrinkled wheels of cheese...
at a moment's notice.
you float through the open window where crescendo the crisp winds and the bacon fats
rendering in the musk of firewood, oaking the nose of the decanted day
the early hearth of heaven, now powder blushed and rustle thrum
with skylarks larking in the luminous icebox
of barely sunrise.
your eyes sparkle and my antlers score the aspen bark
on a lost acre of our thickening plot.
we love a lot.
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 11:22 AM UTC
words hurt.
have you ever been stabbed by an adjective
or ripped up inside by a verb?
how about those adverbs that modify
the emptiness we all feel inside?
words are a living creature.
lurking over the enjambment of the letters,
terrorizing those who hear them.
and yet;
we still use them.
pushing us over the edge
as they're muttered by those who
are not worthy of their power.
of their
grace.
but nouns hurt the worst.
razor blades and lemon juice
are like an ant to a human
compared to nouns.
and the only way we can combat
these fierce enemies
is to not listen.
but how can i cover my ears from
something i adore?
and how can i cover my ears
to protect myself from words when
i need them?
i need them more than Tina needed Ike
more than Lindsay Lohan needs coke
more than Beyonce needs Jay
more than Lucifer needs God to stay alive.
And how can I shield myself from words
when all I want to do
is hear the phrase
"everything is going to be okay."
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
My soul craves world peace.
Where us vs them will cease to exist.
We all have a heart that loves and assists.
But that's not enough they demand more than this.
Banned from the land.
Banned from the bliss.
Will this greed ever be dismissed?
Kneel to the system run on conflict of interest.
That makes you depend, look outside take a glimpse.
Understand all was planned.
Sleight of hand and they took control of motherland.
Birds, raised and caged by misconceptions.
Domesticated under their wings with things we're supposed to do.
Force fed beliefs, here you go this is true.
And the government grew.
Conditioned by the cards you drew.
Game of theories made to modify you.
Now, who are you?
With a pencil, they drew a mask on you.
We miss the point.
We don't know intentions.
We yearn for acceptance.
We follow without question.
New age with a prescribed perception.
But these are your lenses.
I won't be caged.
I won't be a bird in.
I hope you to spread your wings and start unlearning.
Now you can fly and won't be a servant.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 7:00 PM UTC