"momentum" poems
A clock ticks time by tirelessly
Gears winding like twines of string
With quaint clicking quickly quieting
Until finally time stands still
Broken glass of a smooth clock face
Gears halting in deformity
Glistening shards like the sands of time
Ceasing in their downward flight
A once beating ticking heart of life
Now is lost within a sleepless night
Once a momentum to continued light
Now falls to the ringing silence's might
Time broken into shattered deaths
Until there is simply nothing left
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.
The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.
Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.
We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
Feathers glimmer and shine
As though covered in fish oil
I lubricate the brain
As I slip through the sky
With a frictionless flicker
My lightening wings
Brain waves rapidly fluctuate
Perfect balance held
Between left and right
Each wing a hemisphere
As they beat and beat
Accelerating into hyper speed
80 to a hundred or more
Beats per second
As though injected
With a sonic speed
Synapses bursting and exploding
Exponentially connecting
Blistering wing speed
I become electric
My circuits exploring
Rippling and flickering through paper
My brain comes alive
Flashing multicolored lights
Like the cities nights
But still spaces collect around me
As I am buffered from the world
Perfectly still though standing
On an invisible ledge
I hold my mind in place
While I hum in space
Head down I drop my beak
Into a funnel of concentration
As I tunnel into trumpets
Penetrating deep I flower
In new knowledge
Polar aspects of mind
Released through coherent communication
Set free with coordination
I seek to marry chalk and cheese
As I hold the balance
Between two worlds
Flashing synapses firing
And combusting
Against pointed concentration
My mind juggles two *****
Expanding into their fullness
Expressing vibrant color
My slippery slender beak
Slips and slides in
As I flutter through pages
I discover new unexpected surprises
Problems solved, Startling adventures
And puzzles completed
I find the sugary syrup
The delicate delicious sweet spot
With the thrill of falling domino's
Spilling and cascading
Many ripples fanning out
Through my mind
I find freedom
Each ripple massaging my mind
I am catapulted into outer space
I dance from fact to golden fact
As I am propelled forward on stardust
My momentum shoots me forward
I bounce and bounce
My mind becoming unbounded
I enjoy this great Hummingbird delight
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
Listen
My skin glistens
The sweat drips ~n~
I feel the motion
The rise of my emotions
The tingle in the spine
Expands in time
Engulfing my muscles
With adrenaline, hustle
**** reason
Incite treason
Don’t back down
Don’t turn aroun’
Introduced, an obstacle
Beat it like a rock, unstoppable
Heart, rhythm, momentum
Breath, flex, go get ‘em
Never rest,
There is no success
As soon as you think you won,
Something hits your chest
So stand up, strong
This fight is gunna last long
In 1 second,
You could be gone
ViKing
By GeoEthE
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
Saved by the Sunflower
A very strong storm was arriving,
there were large black clouds coming from the east,
strong gusting turbulent winds threatening to snap everything,
severe down pouring of flooding rain,
as if the clouds were crying out in pain,
it did not seem there would be anyway to save the flower garden,
nothing could survive this unannounced exploding of nature,
this seemingly uncontrollable outburst,
something, maybe everything was going to be destroyed,
this day turned in to this night of hell,
the rain, the wind, the flashes of lightning,
this violent death would not be stopped this time,
then a small voice could barely be heard,
at first it was ignored, flicked away like a mosquito,
the voice did not give up though, once again it cried out,
once again it was ignored, brushed aside,
the voice continued gaining strength, it refused to be shut down,
the creator of the storm suddenly took a step back,
looking down to see where this voice was coming from,
it was emanating from this one lone sunflower,
it was the sunflower that had been given the name Perly,
Perly would not, could not be denied as she screamed out,
leave this garden oh evil storm, I will not except the outcome,
the outcome that you predict will never occur, we are fighters,
we will never give in to your senseless urges,
please wake up and hear my plea for sanity,
the storm started to weaken, slowly at first, but continued
gaining momentum loosing it's grip on this act of violence
until finally succumbing to this cry of desperation from
the little sunflower.
Gradually, the wind stopped blowing,
the rain stopped falling,
the sun began peaking thru the clouds.
Perly Sunflower had saved the lives of all the other flowers
in the garden, and the life of gardens caretaker.
A plaque is now erected on this spot proclaiming the
bravery of this little sunflower that would not give in,
would not accept, would not cower away.
The caretaker of the garden professes eternal gratitude
and love for this brave creature of Gods doing.
Thank you Perly sunflower
Gomer LePoet...
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
1392
Hope is a strange invention—
A Patent of the Heart—
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out—
Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own—
12.4k
dusk falls
between the trees
as nightjars and moths
trace lines of angular momentum
and the sky recedes
to an aspect of light and shade
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
Saved by the Sunflower
A very strong storm was arriving,
there were large black clouds coming from the east,
strong gusting turbulent winds threating to snap everything,
severe down poring of flooding rain,
as if the clouds were crying out in pain,
it did not seem there would be anyway to save the flower garden,
nothing could survive this unannounced exploding of nature,
this seemingly uncontrollable outburst,
something, maybe everything was going to be destroyed,
this day turned in to this night of hell,
the rain, the wind, the flashes of lightning,
this violent death would not be stopped this time,
then a small voice could barely be heard,
at first it was ignored, flicked away like a mosquito,
the voice did not give up though, once again it cried out,
once again it was ignored, brushed aside,
the voice continued gaining strength, it refused to be shut down,
the creator of the storm suddenly took a step back,
looking down to see where this voice was coming from,
it was emanating from this one lone sunflower,
it was the sunflower that had been given the name Perly,
Perly would not, could not be denied as she screamed out,
leave this garden oh evil storm, I will not except the outcome,
the outcome that you predict will occur, we are fighters,
we will never give in to your senseless urges,
please wake up and hear my plea for sanity,
the storm started to weaken, slowly at first, but continued
gaining momentum loosing it's grip on this act of violence
until finally secumbing to this cry of desperation from
the little sunflower. Gradually, the wind stopped blowing,
the rain stopped falling, the sun began peaking thru the clouds.
Perly Sunflower had saved the lives of all the other flowers
in the garden, and the life of gardens caretaker.
A plaque is now erected on this spot proclaiming the
bravery of this little sunflower that would not give in,
would not accept, would not cower away.
The caretaker of the garden professes eternal gratitude
and love for this brave creature of Gods doing.
Thank you Perly sunflower
Gomer LePoet..
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 9:50 PM UTC
My country
a land like no other.
just like my mother
i wouldn't want another
so special to me
in different but in every way
i shall bring forth dignity
not tommorow, but everyday
to developement we shall strive
keeping the momentum alive
we shall qualify,
for everything there to justify.
Sri lanka,
the name that spells my honour,
in the life cirlcle.
Just a small miracle.
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 1:40 AM UTC
White paint peels off to leave the walls bare,
naked and exposed to
elements.
Much like her soul.
Starved of love and affection,
accepted but not wanted.
Tolerated.
The sun casts her shadows on those
she frowns upon,
leaving winding roads to spiral out of control.
Time shifts her world from
it's axis as it progresses,
it doesn't heal,
it doesn't lessen,
It just is.
Echoes of your voice ricochets
to find her heart,
carrying the exact weight they
did the second they fled your tongue,
never shedding an ounce of momentum
"The waves of pain
that had only lapped at her
before now
reared up high and pulled her under .."
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent. i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence. i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released. feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind. i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind. whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold. gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence. i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location. i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality. i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come. it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty. the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception. as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination. with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place. i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint.
©2016 janetaylor
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
The journey seems to be bumpy, sometimes a dusky road,
Carrying the burdens, weighing our sins like a miserable toad,
Some pursue their passion, some pursue their degree,
Whatever the reason maybe,
Unclog your way, cruise over the hardships and set yourself free.
You'll be miffed by the mistakes you did,
Selling out wet pillows you'll weep and sow a depression seed,
And there will arrive times,
When they will doubt you, and you will doubt yourself,
But don't.. Don't ever doubt your devotion,
Grab the momentum and roll in the motion,
Though, squeamishness will thrive,
Remember the dream and thank him because you are alive,
Value every second, trade your life for it,
Open up your feathers, escape the pit,
Death invites everybody, someday you'll be gone,
Even the sun will set forever, there won't be any dawn,
Something belongs to you, its your throne,
With the choices you made, go fly,
Fly till the horizon.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
Just reached the summit
The adrenaline building up for the plummet
Strap in to start the cruise
Headphones in, listening to my tunes
Now scanning the powdery terrain
I’m flying like a jet engine plane
Take off on the jump
My knees take the big thump,
Up ahead, there’s the rail
The momentum gives me the power to sail
Almost busting I gain my stability
Now I got my mobility
Carving back and forth
Now at dusk I see my guide north
My ride ending to a near
I get excited for that frosty beer
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
Keep it close, do not disclose,
That thought you had, don't let it be told.
Spiralling downwards, gaining momentum,
Familiar now, fermenting the unscented.
Just one step towards the darkest past,
Listen to what you once were told,
"Take two steps forward, one step back".
Letting fears unwind, twisting the truth,
A blanket of confidence unveiled,
Now that your no longer you.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
Inside the drainage basin
Bounding my soul
Fluid dynamics
Condense
Phases of water
Gather in the
Mountain towers
Over time
Gravity plus precipitation
Converts
Into snow pack
Come spring
That snow pack
Braids it's way down the mountain
Co-mingling with groundwater
Bubbling up in springs
Gathering momentum
In mountain streams
A constant conversion from
Potential to kinematic
Energy
Streams make their
Way into prairie rivers
Meandering along
Through riparian pockets
Of biodiversity
Reaching a levee
Then breaching
Local, national, and international boundaries
Are no match
As my soul
Finds it's way to base level
In the ocean of your love
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 7:15 AM UTC
How can we attain the perspective of the introspective
When detectives aren't respected
By crowds drawn by clowns
Made vicious by the wishes
Of Hades with rabies
In order for humanity to progress
We must all consider our place in society
Emotional disclosure accelerates our human race
Until externalizations halt our momentum
We begin to drift
Discourse drifts toward absurdity
Absurdity drifts toward reality
Reality drifts toward Hell
And accepting reality
Means accepting the bullet's laughter
while it drifts through the innocent
Then we must accept where our souls have drifted
So our minds drift into fantasy
We wrap our abandon ties around our neck
And go to work
We live in a society
Where not giving a **** about what others think
Is actually encouraged
Yes, exchanging ideas can hurt
That's whiplash as we stop drifting and jolt in each other's direction
But communication
Takes detours to dead ends
As honesty and compassion
Elude us
In a self-perpetuating cycle
When education's only purpose
Is learning how to ****** each other
Before we know too much
Our species drifts toward extinction
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 5:51 AM UTC
I think we were strangers in a blind white
Losing momentum of a previous life
Speeding the cinema into blurs of light
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
My muse,
how you rousse
me to come to
from my slumber,
eyes wide.
What I feel
inside for you
cannot be contained
to my heart
or my brain.
This stirring
borders insane.
For you what won't I do?
So what if you're the plank
I walk, to gift me momentum
when I wish to plunge?
To the depths of fantasy,
to shed the world above.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 9:17 PM UTC
A song comes out of the speeding bhogis,
Seeta is the one rendering the song.
She chants that her husband has long been dead.
Seeta has two sons, just like her ballads.
One –
Gives rhythm to her song.
Other –
Rubs a gentleman out of his siesta
And asks for a little money.
The bhogis gain momentum (Ignores the station master who shows red to stop the pacing male phallus)
Long away –
A girl lies down, lower than the rails.
**** me, **** me, she bangs her head.
I will, I will, the rails swell the train song in her ears.
Though long away,
Though have not heard the girl,
As if she has heard something -
Seeta stops singing.
And her children dash out.
Two hobos enter in –
As if to sell sizzling peanuts.
Just as to give the body a bath –
Seemingly not pleased just with the rails –
The male train jumps off,
Into the wide sea.
(Whose ****** is the sea, the breeze hums a song)
A thousand crows flutters from –
One’s previous birth,
To –
Another’s next birth.
Seeta, having forgotten all her songs –
Looks out for her kids.
Will arrive shortly, will arrive shortly :
Weary, irked and bored -
Time waits at a station.
(I did remember Rupesh Paul, who drew a simile between the rails and the *** worker’s nights, Anitha Thampi, who wrote about female trains, Latheesh Mohan, who noted down how the train stretches its back, Vishnu Prasad and his poem on the phallus, Prasanna Aryans usage: **** says the wheel and shit-shit , says the rail et al , while writing this poem)
(Translated by Sherin Catherine)
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
You may bring me down
Try to hurt and torture my soul
You may bring me to the ground
But like the wind I will carry through.
Does my happiness upset you?
Why are you so selfish?
Cause I am strong and independent
I have the capability to do anything I desire.
Just like gravity in space
With everything trying to pull me down,
Just like the momentum to keep going
I will carry through.
Do you want to see me hurt?
Give up on everything I have worked for?
My body falling to the ground,
Weakened by the terror of the future.
Does my happiness upset you?
Don’t try to bring me down.
Cause I am strong like I’ve got superpowers,
Flying through the struggles of life.
You may hurt me with your words,
You may try to crush me,
You may try to torture me,
But still, like the wind I will carry through.
Does my confidence upset you?
Does it come as a surprise?
That I have the capability to do anything I put my heart to,
At the moment that is right?
Out of the struggles of life,
I carry through.
Up from a past buried in cries,
I carry through.
I’m a blue ocean, flowing and changing.
Capable to bear the effects of the tide.
Leaving behind all of the bad memories,
I carry through.
Into a world that I can call mine,
I carry through.
Putting the past behind me
I am the one who represents the future.
I carry through.
I carry through.
I carry through.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 4:37 PM UTC
/ innocent until prōven guilty,
contra guilty until
prōven innocent...
ah!
so the minority report?
guilty, while innocent,
based upon a premonition?
hindsight with a zodiac
type of interpretation...
innocent until prōven guilty
has no superiority
in practice over the continental
guilty until prōven innocent...
no... because the principle invokes
presuppositions,
of suppositions...
treating the two as propositions -
or rather... "verbs" inacted...
innocent until prōven guilty -
then no understanding of freedom,
at least guilty until prōven innocent
allows understanding
restraint, however unfair,
with 18 years lost...
and then the tears of relief!
Tomasz Komenda...
an "espionage" case of staging
empathy...
en masse...
an innocent man walks away
from falsely imposed justice measures...
a redemption...
a count de monte cristo
allowance...
but in reverse?
the evil man walks free...
succumbing to old age,
and dementia, a pontius pilate pardon...
there is no redemption aspect
of the saxon course of applying jurisprudence...
the... innocent, until prōven guilty,
contra: guilty until prōven innocent
schizophrenia?
the latter overshadows
the former...
because we're not babies...
at least with the latter:
there's a redemption exegesis -
but with the former?
bitter-sweet tears within
the confines, of an example akin
to jimmy savile...
guilty until prōven innocent
has much more authentic emotional
content, with a redemption narrative...
innocent until prōven guilty
has? not much,
just a grave,
and the stunted emotional expression,
what ought to be flowers
within the heart,
instead: fungus, growing in the dark...
and thus... translating
to other hearts:
let's allow this chemo-phobia
chemo-philia experiment
be left intact in its the momentum...
honestly... the study of law -
is probably the ********* game
in the allowance of games of
adulthood... one tier above gambling.
p.s.
because you know there's proof:
and that the past-participle
thrown into a future, does require
an omega rather than an omicron...
not an oh, but an ooh...
hence? reign from above,
on the omicron, with a macron (ō).
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
For translational
invariant functions
The Lebesgue measure is an example of such a function;
In geometry, a translation "slides"
a thing by a: Ta(p) = p + a.
In physics and mathematics,
continuous translational symmetry
is the invariance of a system of
equations under any translation.
Discrete translational symmetry
is invariant under discrete translation;
Analogously an operator A on functions
is said to be translationally invariant
with respect to a translation operator
{\display style T_{\delta }} T_{\delta }
if the result after applying A doesn't change
if the argument function is translated.
More precisely it must hold that:
{\display style \for all \delta \
Af=A(T_{\delta }f).\,}
\for all \delta \ Af=A(T_{\delta
}f).\,
Laws of physics are translationally invariant
under a spatial translation
if they do not distinguish
different points in space.
According to Noether's theorem,
space translational symmetry of a physical system
is equivalent to the momentum conservation law.
Translational symmetry of any woman
means that a particular translation does not change her.
For a given woman, the translations
for which this applies form a group,
the symmetry group, or, if the women
have more kinds of symmetry, a subgroup of the symmetry group.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 1:53 AM UTC
"Guns for Hands is talking about- I want to tell you that I know
you have the ability to hurt yourself, you do, you have that ability.
I feel like a lot of the older generation when they hear about someone
struggling with it their first reaction is “No you’re not, you’re not struggling
with that- think about something else. You’re just trying to get attention”. But this song
was really trying to say “Listen I know that you have the ability to hurt yourself,
I recognize that, but let’s take that energy and let’s point it at something else,
let’s divert that, lets kinda shift momentum and look at something like art
or something like this music specifically, or even point it at me, you
know- just point it anywhere. Just don’t point it at yourself."
-T.J.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC