"modifying" poems
inspired by
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5120189/love-cannot-be-controlled-or-confined/
<>
Love is Meant……
and there, I stop…
<>
nnnnyup; continuing on,
this phrase
a self~sufficiency, is it not?
no conditional clause, dangling particle,
no conjunction peg upon to hang your wintered hat,
no adjacent adjective for summer's ending sadness,
no preposition to lead us to sunny places, where we search more
for nouns and pronouns, or to project/protect, in adjectives to clothe our irrationality in logic-e,
logic to define, logic to confine,
illogically
love permits one to say to another human, you mine, hu-mine,
[an aside: "you mine,' (really?)]
a preposterous prepositional insanity notion, that needs no explication,
love is meant, love is meant, love is mean, dream & yet, meant!
stadium sized. concert hall big, mini pup tent,
love is clean+dirty s i m u l t a n e o u s l y
don't you see the self~sufficiency in that?
yet you still seek definition, reasoning, seasoning,
love is meant to-be bent irregular straightaway,
love is meant, to be/not, cold 'n bot, silly hot,
lover is inert, hurt, ert,(1)
love is every point of,
of a sword's length
hilt & blade,
yet ironic,
the tip alone
is a self sufficient *****
to be full~on damaging enough to ****
to fully comprehend,
that love is meant
needs no further modifying defying
pointless phrasal modification of explanation…
s u n d a y
(if the week did not commence with a sunday,
hu-mans would have needed to create one,
to understand,
love is meant)
4:39am
Sun Aug 10
Twenty Twenty Fidelio (5)
in a new york city frame of mine
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 8:06 AM UTC
Mirrorball - “the fabrication of our performance”
a life long struggle to accept who I am,
of course, lose, and lose again, and
the fabrication of our performance now
inherent in every excuse and mirrorball
revolving asking, no, laughing, at our
vanity, as we endeavor, enabled by the
paucity of ego, the neediness of weakness’s
to catch, keep, hold each single flickering
light spot in our open, slick palms forever
we fabricate our performance of daily living,
modifying our measurements to match output,
only a human cannot wake only to fall within
each daily tabulation without thinking, once:
*I am a hero, worthy of acknowledgement, just
look at my hands! see how many spots of
light I can claim as mine! the mirrorball turns
and turns paying no mind to the worshipers
below, until some sorrowful fool confesses,
fools fail, fools fail, turning the dervish off,
the white flag of ego darkened, once more...*
we are all false poets, false prophets, occasionally confessing
7:34 AM
Sat Jul 18
The Year of the Virus, Corona
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 8:03 AM UTC
*concerning the last lines... all we can do with the Cartesian Libra is add adjectives to it, which is contrary to what the existentialists did by simply modifying a furthered abstraction of the compounds 'i think' and 'i am', via the inverted comma(s), otherwise known as dittoing, sic, prior said, or re-, true to the oddity; a king will continue to question his position / being a king by not thinking about it, hence his uninhibited delusions, hereditary, very much genetic; and hence someone who precursors his being with much concern for thinking, the inhibited delusion, self-serving - both are adjective expansions of the Cartesian Libra, just added qualities, given both are facts requiring a slab of marble to look like Rodin's kiss - or approximate, with therefore being the chisel, and so dependent the end product, indeed a slab of marble at first, but not necessarily Rodin's kiss at the end - perhaps a Notre Dame gargoyle...*
i am what i think,
that's what i came up with after
reading some of the bio sketches -
even though the truth is that
i am what i own -
thinking is the part that comes last,
if i own a bed and a roof over my head,
i end up i thinking about being
homeless - but sometimes you do find
the ones that are inclined
to be what they think, the extremes
we call them - supreme anti-materialists,
it's not satisfying to own a house
or a phone, more is required,
something tinged with transcendental
counters - they "own" a home
but rather not live in it, already the
looming fairy of heaven tells them
of an unnatural life expectancy -
some might say thinking a form of
uninhibited delusion sketches,
like i'd be a venture capitalists taking
a weekend away in Hawaii while
some ridiculousness of poverty in India
was to blame for my jet streams and
carbon footprints - they keep the
inhibited delusional in cages without
a chance to sketch - because the uninhibited
delusional have all the freedoms
that Versailles could allow - or...
uninhibited delusions of non-thought,
inherited, hereditary,
versus inhibited delusions of thought,
mutated, self-invented...
this could very well be a "magic" square
with two further variations, i.e.
uninhibited delusions of thought (psychopathy)
inhibited delusions of non-thought (coma?
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
You put a self portrait
On a pedestal made by you.
Do you see me as a burden
With some modifying to do?
You're so silent
When I say hypocrite,
Maybe make a list for me
Of the crimes that I commit.
If I'm such a sinner
I wont be afraid
To leave this place and everyone,
Sanity stretching thinner.
For I am not the demon
You make me out to be
Give me the word of the
Sad, Sad Seventeen
I hope you're satisfied,
The reason why
I'm dead inside.
Keep your clutter
On your own heap,
Pray the devil my soul to reap
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC
You are someone to hold
and truth be told
you're more than gold.
No matter how the story goes
you'll always have your friends and foes.
Burning bridges kills the future.
Even though I belong in the past,
Turn it up and make it last.
Keep close to those who follow
Mind is overflowing, stomach is hollow.
We sing the days away
Where's the fun if there's no play.
Something in the way you teach me
And find your way to reach me.
Nothing is real, and that's just fine.
Just modifying what's already mine.
You tell me the world can't change,
So don't bother me if I do.
Motionless on the floor
But im okay,
I'm just tired of evil today
Maybe it's all a lie
Especially my reason why.
I'd fight for a cause if it fought for me
Till then, I'm with the galaxy
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 3:57 PM UTC
She held him like a dangling participle,
as mothers sometimes do.
Disconnected from her sentence,
he was held on but stiffly confused.
He possesses a birthright to her hard-wiring,
or is it mandatory?
Woman-datory?
Umbilical, precedence will or won't inherit addictive behaviours.
Likability of some traits but not others, wishing he wasn't.
More like her, realisations go awry.
Pattern of outstretched arms dangling that boy.
His diaper is off, and jettison's stream, so caution.
Hiking along the forgotten path, brambling overgrowth blocked his continuing.
He cuts a new path.
She cuts the umbilical.
Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
In a hospital with glass walls they can't hide their problems
as the newborn screams and the cancer depletes
the cycle of life is witnessed like a dream
vivid in this reality the harshness of their insanity,
purely demographically calculating each catastrophe
Anxiety and depression, broken bones and unlearned lessons,
overflowing pediatric wings and incomprehensible fallacies
how many angels have to fall before they finally change something?
the way it is just isn't working
genetically modifying the health and well being of humanity
is devil-like control that we've given out freely
each one of us is just as guilty
of giving in without even thinking
they've designed it not only to be easy,
but required, legally
prepared for the community
to not take it so peacefully
"You can't make me" becomes a felony
and a ticket can be written for anything
don't get caught with your hands in your pockets day dreaming...
you silly dreamer human being
theres laws against speaking free, although the constitution disagrees
the law wasn't given it's own set of wings
and jealous was he so he created a scene
and made it seem like a city was their dream
when it never really came close to being
handing out medications and monthly vaccines
instead of homegrown natural remedies
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
Emblematic of the all American middle class boyhood
Cleanse these filthy blood-spattered hands
Modifying dreams into death
A clown can get away with ******
Spreading smiles on the faces of children
Bodies in the crawlspace
A letter everyday
Just to taunt you
You’ll never catch me
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 10:00 AM UTC
There are so many ways now
To add glitter and sparkle
More sunlight where it is missing
Enhance the skin tone when it is fading.
You need not be an expert now
At the simple click of a touch
Your smile will light up like a flame
Putting your moment in a pristine frame.
Is it not customary now
You can make it much prettier
Turning the humdrum into classy
Creating a billion-dollar memory.
Yet not all things call for modifying now
The instant itself could be magical enough
If your shot had it all mimicked
Why polish when it is already perfect.
Take a photo with your heart now
Art imitates life and not the other way around
Capturing the sensation that cannot be jaded
Memories, unlike photos, will not be edited.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 7:51 AM UTC
A haze.
I'm breathing so heavy.
My eyes are half shut.
Why are my legs so far away?
What is this creeping sensation,
Eating away at consciousness?
A blur.
The world is on mute.
I hear people talking, but they aren't saying anything.
I can hear myself talking, but I'm not saying anything.
Or am I saying things but not really talking?
I just don't know.
A glow.
I can perceive my condition. Rationalize it.
Shunt my thoughts into a presupposed state.
I know what is weighing down upon my brain,
But the feeling is too fantastic to even begin to care.
Normally I'd be talking, but for once in my life...
I'm content to just listen.
A buzz.
I don't worry any more about what people think of it.
I am expanding my knowledge about reality,
Just by perceiving it differently.
Perhaps I am altering my mind, but I have to ask you,
Is any other form of learning anything else?
We are all modifying our minds, at all given times.
I consider it just a way of igniting that creative flame.
I am ******
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 11:38 PM UTC
I think the world has gone insane,
on the brink of suicide.
We pollute the air were supposed to breath,
and in our SUV's we hide.
There's people starving in the world,
so we grow corn for fuel,
and let it rot over taking a loss,
'cos were nobody's fool.
We're ignorant of the balance,
Mother Nature's systems need,
so we try and fix what isn't broke,
by genetically modifying seed.
And now the earth is fighting back,
trying to save herself,
from this pesky little virus,
thats needs back on the shelf.
And years from now when we are gone,
and she is back on track,
the only thing we left behind,
was all this plastic crap.
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 3:49 PM UTC
Moving away from unholiness is attainable,
by modifying and monitoring your godless behavior.
Know that you’re called into fellowship with Him;
begin mirroring the traits of our blessed Savior.
For you can do all things through Christ,
who joyfully and faithfully strengthens His Children;
you have been given the necessary Biblical tools
for overcoming Life’s constant pressures of sin.
Turn away from impurity of thoughts and actions;
instead focus on Christ’s perfect righteousness;
find your identity now - in Him and His Kingdom;
remember that you’re always… called to holiness!
.
.
.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
1 Thes 4:7; Heb 3:1; 2 Tim 1:9; Phil 4:13;
1 Pet 1:14-16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
<>
reversed a verse from “Like a Rolling Stone;
~complements to Mr. B. Dylan, a Nobel man~
you, me, hear what you’re hearing, feeling it,
you, me, hear what you’re thinking, feeling that,
regenerating, excising, pinching a single word of Bobby’s
lyricizing, knowing, you’ve just handbag-snatched a poem full.
the rolling stone sings of next meal scrounging,
he’s talking to you, knowing you, you customizing
his lyrics modifying-jiggering, for your purposeful brain,
emotional crazed notions, your monsanto seed of needs and strains.
*nah, I’m fibbing, polite-ly lying,
like clover waves springing up
overnight after a night’s soaking,
raining, picking up hints, misdirections, clues,
*** poem titles dripping from my glassy eyes!
des idées for the next poem, the one, in the garden hereafter,
now called thereafter, all arriving in tranches, backyard bunches,
just to write down the titles fast enough, sometimes, trouble,
oft easy, sometimes rough, but always a fast rush jiggling job.*
yeah, I’m liking that word, scrounging,
got character, internal noises aclashing,
so I’m scrounging
while lounging , it’s so ******* easy,
it’s getting borrowed till you! steal
it out from under me,
like an ill reputed
good poet should...
P.S. don’t keep me waiting!
let the scrounging commencin’
tw36
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 4:38 PM UTC
Her psychic readings are conducive to astronomy. The feeling warps the time. The space within it. The hours become minutes. The minutes become infinite. I am energy. I am here spiritually and mentally the fools who tried to make me forget about you offended me. Focus on two standards when assessing the threat. Number one is capacity. Number two is intent. At least for my interconnected introspective perspective the more you try. The more you won't forget it. Although I don't have all the answers I am not in the know I can only see what is above and only from below. My mind dives deep beneath it all. I see her holding a trident riding a sea horse bubbles form as I scream with extreme force.
Let me explain what my sonar saw. A Mermaid holding the holy rosery patrolling the open sea you save me. As the tsunami hits was where I was suppose to be. Poetry reduces the stress dramatically as a result it feels like anti gravity. Thus the teleological dynamics will enhance. What does one call this genre? If she is the moon and me the sun then we are modifying the weather with our chakras. Creating thunder storms as ******* form our first born titan. My poems put me in the zone it's exciting . Humans shook because the evil came and ram-sack rooms and burned books. I advised em to hide ours in the woods. Recap the summary. Moon goddess transforms in front of me to a mermaid controlling the open sea. Back to the sky as we leave to produce more planets why? Because that's our knowledge that lies within us the infinite rhythm you predicted this vision I painted the picture as hieroglyphics inside the walls of pyramids.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 7:04 AM UTC
*All we are is nothing but a blanket covering the world.
Nothing more than a piece of clothing covering its ******
We are a split second in the handles of a clock;
the sole whim within the imagination of reality.
An sporadic ****** when riding what we so call life,
but it doesn't really last enough to take another ride.
Our skins are filled with nothing but pure lust
and our bones are only nothing more than dust.
We are a mere heartbeat within the world's heart.
The blink of an eye within the history of humanity.
We are one more pattern in a sequence that never ends.
The fading echo of the voices of society's insanity.
We are the vague flashback of a future we will never live.
A small particle of water in a falling raindrop.
The modifying adjective structuring a sentence of our story.
The rush to the eye of a single fallen teardrop.
What else are we but the literal meaning of nothing?
The same kind of nothing which ignorance finds in art.
We brought nothing to the world but our own life
and nothing but life we will be taking when we depart.
We were born and built out of nothing
and so nothing shall then be our ending;
Nothing, as flowers when they are withered;
Nothing else, shall we ever be considered.*
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
I run, they chase.
Genetically modifying the master race. We are trapped, for it will always know your face.
Anytime and any place.
****** recognition in your private space. Never overlook a clue and never leave a trace.
For they will charge you with a premeditated sentence.
Can we comprehend this as our fate, while others are being hurdled through these prison gates.
Everyone can run but we'll never be hidden.
This kind of knowledge is completely forbidden.
We are the enemy as ponds set in place. So I run, yet they chase.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
Time is slipping.
moments are fading,
deadlines are approaching
and emotions are changing.
Everything is
modifying,
dimming,
evolving
and reforming.
It's a tightening feeling in the chest
that catches my breath.
But then I exhale
letting it loose.
Life is moving forward,
days are coming close,
anxiety is getting worse
and I don't feel prepared.
But I have today,
I have this moment,
I can make something of this time.
Little by little,
day by day,
it will be alright.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 12:30 PM UTC
I am a circumstance
— noun
1. a condition, detail, part, or attribute, with respect to time, place, manner,agent, etc., that accompanies, determines, or modifies a fact or event; a modifying or influencing factor
I am a lever
—noun
1. Mechanics. a rigid bar that pivots about one point and that is used to move an object at a second point by a force applied at a third.
I am water
-noun
1. a transparent, odorless, tasteless liquid, a compound of hydrogen and oxygen, H 2 O, freezing at 32°F or 0°C and boiling at 212°F or 100°C, that in a more or less impure state constitutes rain, oceans, lakes, rivers, etc.: it contains 11.188 percent hydrogen and 88.812 percent oxygen, by weight.
I am you
— pronoun, possessive your or yours, objective you, plural you.
1. the pronoun of the second person singular or plural, used of the person or persons being addressed, in the nominative or objective case
I am all of these things and nothing at all.
I am.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
☺☻☺
This objective will not be accomplished
through a series of planned action-steps.
This outcome will not be a result
of selectively modifying best practices.
Results-based analysis will not help you.
This objective cannot be achieved
through collaboration with peers
or self-reflecting on past strategies.
There will be no PowerPoint, Prezi, or any other slide show
to unpack this metric.
The new paradigm is an old dead joke.
Outcomes are irrelevant to this objective.
This objective laughs at you
as it explodes in your data-driven bureaucratic face.
Go to hell and take this benchmark with you,
you piece of administrative irrelevance.
There are no more attainable objectives.
SEEK GOD and LIVE.
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 7:28 AM UTC
Barefoot silhouettes
in the sand dancing;
to the burning flames
they're not attaching.
To the lulling waves escaping;
its vibes, inhaling.
Salty splashes
our wounds purifying
into beautiful scars modifying.
1 step, closer
breathe that fire, down my neck
be you, be the western Dragon
sprout your claws.
DIG them harder;
blood, sweat, coconut oil, magical spells
this skin is FORTIFIED, don't hold back.
2 steps higher, breathe that fire
the damp nights ignite
your wings spread & stretch.
Under the showering crystal stars
My eyes and your Labradorite -
blue eyes we'll close.
On serenity's fumes
together we'll get high
transcending into orange, ruby hues.
your forbidden Obsidian thoughts LIBERATE!
the knight's sword we'll evade
2 steps down, to the warm sand-
dancing we go back.
Breathe that fire, one more time
for your princess's levity, not indemnity
Flames out, they go
the night hand in hand they took
kissed goodbye
to the pink skies, said hello.
With the sun's golden strings and his big green wings
His gypsy princess swaddled and cuddled.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
I'm no longer clinched in the chaos of my past.
Letting go of demons that trapped my stability.
Facing all the trouble of my yesterdays.
Never to sorrow over prior misconception.
The future holds to many vows.
I am no longer a prison of my destructive past.
Modifying my mindset see the beauty in the universe.
Nothing is more horrific then a troubled mind.
Never to let the darkness control my emotion.
I am the only creature to control the conclusion.
I have come to a greater perspective.
I AM ONLY HUMAN.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
The heat the sun created in the day
persists indoors into the night. I cannot sleep.
The full moon reflecting the sun's rays, modifying its strength,
now shines more coolly but no less clear,
and I, sitting outside in the silence of the night,
can relax in peace.
Then I catch sight of movement in your window.
You have switched on no light, but are illuminated
by the silvery moonglow, entranced, it seems,
by the quietness, by the peace
that has been brought to the garden.
And I in turn, entranced by your stillness,
your magical calm, can only observe
as you hum your secret to the moon.
Alas, the moment is ended far too soon,
but I'll never forget that lovely, beautiful tune.
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 3:37 PM UTC
[There Are] Things You Can Never Change
You make provision for; you train,
Prepare, do anything you can,
And still,
You have to deal with the moment:
Variations never-ending,
Ever modifying and evolving
Subject to the will
Of something your own will,
Will never understand.
(why do you think there are so many meanings to the word?)
Good luck, and blessings on us all.
May we cull the best from life in every world
That may/may not exist.
[There Are] Things You Can Never Change 11.25.2017
Definitely Didactic; Circling Round Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
The scenario is unhappy one,
Frustrated with the current conditions.
Chaos is dictating the conscious,
With the devastation manufacturing pain.
Alter the nightmare by shifting gears,
Rising from the misery by envisioning bliss.
The imagination is a strong tool,
Modifying horror with peace.
Enter a place where the sun shines,
By producing visions of tranquility.
Viewing the palm trees through images,
Reaching paradise without leaving home.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
is
the trying is the finding out of the unique
all about,
losing battles to find yourself a
war-won victor and a long term loser,
making the process new, requiring expensive
for the event custom made expertise trainers,
re-acquired to shoot your foot straight
and laugh about it when you do it
again and again
for the relearning love is the crown jew-el,
that jesters rob from their kingly masters,
nothing more precious
pride in love is the fall season preceding
Canadian winters,
always thinking you know better
this time
you cannot learn from love,
cause it’s twice, two times,
never the same,
the all over modifying
past lessons, so, ain’t no prologue,
the body is the wafers
sometimes vanilla,
sometimes chocolate
and the epilogue is 100%
poem~songs that I love writing
and hate remembering
or is it the other way round?
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 2:44 PM UTC