"mono" poems
Noting changes.
Nothing grows.
Empty highs.
Empty lows.
I can't feel the warm,
And I can't feel the cold.
You try to make me happy,
And I try just for you.
But other than our trying,
Nothing else is new.
I worry I'll upset you,
If I can't make a change.
It's not fair of me,
To make you stay the same.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
Donuts, o donuts,
Wheat Flour Enriched
Soybean,
Palm and Cottonseed Oil Hydrogenated
Vegetable Oil Partially Hydrogenated
Cocoa Processed with Alkali,
Sodium Acid Pyrophosphate
Sodium Aluminum Phosphate
Aluminum Sulfate
Salt, Dextrose, Soy Lecithin,
Guar Gum, Cellulose Gum, Tapioca Dextrin,
Corn Dextrins, Mono Diglycerides,
Citric Acid, Enzymes,
Natural & Artificial colors & flavors
Sorbic Acid and Sodium Propionate
and Potassium Sorbate
To Retain Freshness:
Eat 'em up yum.
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 2:08 PM UTC
This is my mono-monologue.
I stand alone befoe the world,
My lonely clean white flag unfurled,
Wondering when the winter sky
Will melt my wings and let my fly.
Perched upon a mountaintop
With not a soul in sight
"When will my isolation stop?"
I cry with all my might.
This is my mono-monologue.
The wind whispers
What I hoped I'd never know:
"You are so far away from them
Because you are below.
"But maybe you are
The one who lives above.
Maybe that is why
You never could be loved."
This is my mono-monologue.
I've lived a shunned life
(It can be hard to see)
Although I haven't felt much strife,
My freedom's far from free.
I do not truly know
What you mean by 'best friend'.
I'm fated to live alone
Until the very end.
This is my mono-monologue.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 11:51 PM UTC
Particles collate, clouds gather
An uprising it seems, stronger together
Resolute it stands, till it holds no further
As any body collapses, under mounting pressure
Little drops to torrential downpour
The inconvenience it brings, just what we abhor
Struggle we must with virtuous patience
If we are to enjoy befallen petrichor
Trees are fed, flowers bloom
From this garden, brilliance loom
As all things present, this too is transient
A reality so poignant, about an existence impermanent
Leaves frail, flowers wither
Consumed by soil from which it consumed
No such thing as eternal bliss
Such are the laws of our symbiosis
We arrive from dust and depart as stench
A reality from which, we shouldn't flinch
As we gaze into a horizon so eternal
All we have, are moments so ephemeral
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 7:35 AM UTC
Like Mono to Stereo
that's how paths
change.
And like the Ocean;
sometimes calm,
sometimes weak,
in the blink of an
eye, a tempest.
That's how Love is.
I cry.
You smile.
We each taste
Love in
different ways.
It is true that I
only lived for you.
I only thirsted for
your love.
In doing so, you got
the best of me.
And I lost myself.
I forgot that I
too, needed love.
I forgot how beautiful
I am.
I forgot me.
It’s so strange
that you can love
someone and lose
yourself at the same
time.
Loose your singularity
It’s so strange
that we will change
and adjust, for that
someone.
For love?
But as I did
I couldn't bear it anymore,
I was becoming me.
Loving you I lacked
everthing.
Loving me I lacked
nothing.
Loving me, might be
harder than loving
someone else.
However,
I’m the one I should love in this world
Me, who shines, my precious soul
Now I finally realize, so I love me
Though I may lack some things, I’m so beautiful.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 6:13 PM UTC
I'd last about an hour as a clerk inside a store
invariably I'd shoot my mouth off
about someone's daughter dressing like a *****
or making comments about the dreadful things consumed
which would include a good 99% of the people in the room
I'd eventually end up getting my lights punched out
after ********* someone as a fat *** undiscerning lout
or cracking some aside regarding what comprises that crud
and making faces of revulsion "you'd be better off eating mud"
ewwwww, you really eat that stuff?
this store should be sued for selling such bluff
children with diabetes, a third of adults obese
the courtesy clerk dies a little for lack of surcease
line after line of vapid consumers
mindless knee-jerk impetuosity belay the rumors
what's an adulterant, what's a filler?
propylene glycol alginate, yum yum
sorbitan mono sterate, shut up and eat it, its fun!
I can't even pronounce it, much less do I care
need I be a scientist to enjoyably savor fare
Go ahead and poison yourself
the quirky clerk exclaimed
its ever so clear you're stupid and lame
stay mired in your pig-headed muck of ignorance
you're exactly what they want
another brain dead consumer
a regular culinary savant
stuff your face with no remorse nor heed
no worries, the clerk of little courtesy knows your need
he'll limply wheel out your cart of miserable choices for you
and wise-crack some snarky rejoinder
then promptly get beaten, black and blue
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
utatane ni
koFisiki Fito wo
mitesi yori
yume teFu mono Fa
tanomisometeki
As I dozed
The man I love
Appeared, so
It is dreams that
Have begun to comfort me.
3.8k
Her hair is blowing
in the high desert
winds
She's gotta
1942 Big Chief engine
between her knees
bequeathed
by her great granddaddy
She's heading up
395
Sierra bound.
She'll tell ya
she's had enough
straight time
driving her far from crazy
Pacing
playing losing aces
pulling her hair
she knew she
just
had to get out of there.
Now the great Mojave
has its expanse
Joshua Trees
they just had to laugh
as she rode by
China Lake
flashing
21st Century
weaponry
Passing through Independence
she's feeling free now
Now I can't say
running away
is
the way
But when your hair
is blowing in the winds
You gotta Big Chief motorcycle
between your legs
and
the ******* aren't stopping
what else can you
say?
Heading to the Sierra
gotta get the mountain view
high above it all
slump those shoulders down
breathe on through
Heading up Big Pine
smelling the Jeffrey Pines
Bishop too
ancient Mono Lake
when it ain't snowing
freedom reigns
Her hair blowing
in the mountain winds
didn't mean anybody
any harm
just had to get
out of there
alive
Bye bye
baby
take care.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Forgotten are our pleas
to temper the dawn
So that even as the night lays silent
there are echoes,
a rhythmic thrum of time
Carried forth are the quiet souls of man
from the ebbing shores born of passing moments
toward the twilight of the flickering flame.
And land ye yet to those moors of shadow,
that evanescence of the living breath,
take heart!
For on its banks grow the roots of the Bodhi
whose branches bore the seeds for the Garden,
and its leaves are as shelter for the Spark.
Thus we bear the gaze of the boatman,
the cloak'd Moirai who guides the clocks,
as it is best to take the lilting petals
upon the tongue
and savor.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 2:34 AM UTC
I am just a toddler in the sandpit of time
I shimmer slightly in the night
and sometimes sparks fly
I am a mono clastic fire
so hurting with desire
that I will never fulfill
So as the sound of drums beating begins
I stand back on my feet
spread my wings liken to a phoenix
to do it all again
Been broken
but always seem to repair myself
just a toddler in the sandpit of time
Bu Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC
She has cooties,
that taste like
candy cake, bad breath
that smells like
caramelized honey.
She has mono,
that gives you
superpowers, ******
would be a blessing,
but that’s just a cut
she got from climbing.
If I said, “Is that a fungus?”
She’d say nope, fungi
and I’d say ****
I got the fungeries”
If I kissed you
it wasn’t from lack of trying
not to, but because
your lips looked tasty
and I had the munchies.
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 12:29 PM UTC
wallowing in myself
the rain stops outside
been at it for days.
I walk
to my bathroom everytime
and everytime
the tarantula creeps or darts from
under the toilet seat
and then his little brother from out
the sink drain; I'm on the crazy train now
appalled, I die back into my room
It's raining again.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
False memories and track marks pave your arms
Sudden revolt of youth pressurised to fail
Painkillers doubled and stacked for a head to slumber
Soft heads and dead leg spasm attack pillow piddles in *****
Fictitious tesla coil blue breath mortifys mortality
And your goggles won't fog out the underwater current miscellaneous
Digital tectonic pushing ideas you brainstorm
Shadowed reluctance to consume the musk of infrared roses
This romance is one that was jealous of itself
Pre-divorced in its own certainty on incompatibility
Basin top full too top heavy to predict precarious
Living in a shaded sense of erased memory lapses continuing truth
Toward magnificent still life categorised by perdition
Forward thinking ruby gold phong shaded hatred quantum conversate Unthinkable
Nebula of gas
Face first head in hands
Euthanasia between my thighs crush my head
Choked neck
Throat
Strangle me and give me breath
I roll and the conductor pulls apart my mouth
Diseased by euphoria lips separate and teeth show
Pupils land home and iris jumps ship
Perfume gum dry bitter butterfly kiss
Head held back in place tongue falls back into the razor-front of the mouth
Caution held simultaneous irrelevant body load carries my smile
Jump knee deep into the silence of my own lungs
It's been a while
I breath vindictively in time with the respiration of the country
Somewhere out in the hexagon sun I burn candles and whisp
Hold in smoke
Die
Twitch forward in palliative peace motionless and still
Cuspids and lochs
Spread across the grass the harmony touches yours and mine
A hole and whole dream
Conscious and dead
Content
Voices rattle in unified mono-chromidity
Sadness
Carrion
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
Civilization is founded upon one-dimensional thinking: monotheism, monoculture, monogamy, monopoly, monotony, mono mono mono... one day soon i'll quit my job, throw away my phone and steal really cool, expensive 3D glasses. After all, eyelids are the only thing barricading our dreams from reality.
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 10:50 PM UTC
T'was little fun
T'was a little town,
No virulent delirious runs
No irking sounds
As t'was a little dangling town
All t'was a feasible brew
No meanders to sought
No conundrums of anew
just wired timely things to rot
When all t'was a portent upcoming
For t'was clad and veneered
In a amicable sun-daze groaning
T'was a peaceful loop of mono-gradient seasons
and all to do was ponder
For t'was guzzled with reasons
T'was yesterdays jigsaw puzzle
T'was a nightmare in sun-light
But for now, let's retch our unknown dazzle
As t'was,
A flippant fuss
For what shan't be
A beguiling me
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 5:21 AM UTC
In the beginning
there is a class
of creatures we call Gods
that much later
we realize are just mono-
instances of god.
From the tower
I babble tongues,
coded messages and ciphers
that you implement
in your daily rituals
and obsessive behaviors.
In R, it's something like,
christ <- god(moral compass)
In Ruby it could be
buddha = God.new
And perhaps a nihilist or we
would find happiness in
10000.times do
pushRock = buhdda.take(me)
end
It's all pidgin for me,
unstructured glimpses at a world
that's moving and changing
faster than my non-existent
grandson can comprehend.
It's all a network
of +1 and like'd
firing mix media,
reinforcing a nascent
thought stream,
back-propagating our legends
and fairy tales, Grimm
reminders of epic Odyssey |
5 Armies in film |
Warring States |
loping dog with a severed hand
in Akira black & white mouth
repossessing Spaghetti Westerns
back into our feudal *****
Fire, firing
into the Monsoon rain.
Always in the Hemingway
rain of symbols and Matrix
green code.
And in my cupped hand,
I catch glimmering fireflies,
instances of Gaiman's
American gods, Tricksters,
Coyotes, and my faithful
Dog smiling at me.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
As long as it takes
These calloused hands
To tell you their story
I could show you instead
Grab me a hammer
And a handful of nails
As I turn the page
With these calloused hands
Years in the making
Working the land
Just like my daddy
And his before him
It's just what we do
Mono a mono as men
All we go through
With calloused hands
Hear what I say
Watch what I do
This story's as old
As it is new
I thank God every day
That I still can
Through life make my way
With these calloused hands
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
Memories diffuse,
like sunbeams glint off a lake,
become phenomena, evade the tangible.
In unsteady light I see my father
rowing toward our favorite fishing cove,
the wavelets of our wake
real as that late August evening.
We bait our hooks, conversation
merely phatic communion\ I know he's cheating on Mom.
Words anchor heavy.
As my face turns into the wind
to dry tears without his seeing,
questions rise in my throat,
like a volcano about to erupt,
but I have no voice to ask them.
So we sit, dangle mono-filament
thoughts in dying twilight.
Father and son,
brooding statues of Buddha,
mute as bullhead on the bottom.
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:51 PM UTC
I'm like the prefix mono
I can be put with other people
Oh, so many others
But I'll always be alone
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 8:51 AM UTC
People and their belongings can be said to be waves which oscillate at a given frequency.
Friends are the people with which you harmonize well, or interestingly enough for it to work.
Hobbies are activities which harmonize with you well, or such that you are inspired to seek it out.
Some others are artifacts that your mind has embraced in such a way that you are it as it is you.
There is no such thing as a unison in this phenomenon.
No two waves are identical
but at the same time
no one is isolated.
All sing together to create the plethoric mono-chord of things we call 'Reality'.
Dissonance is there
but it is absolutely relative
as it is also relatively absolute.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
Sometimes I think he’d prefer something
well dressed, with a cut glass accent,
emerging from a smokey platform perhaps.
Yes - at the close of the summer term,
with families reunited,
plans for coastal trips and picnics
with a loyal hound in tow
Sometimes I think he’d prefer life
to be slower, the roads clearer,
with a simpler dashboard
and less choice of radio stations
and for his favourite tunes to be mono,
accented by crackles and plagued
by fades under bridges
Sometimes I know he’d prefer
more time with a paintbrush,
followed by books and discourse
around a wide family table
and the pleasure of sharing slow food
and mellow music with those who matter,
those with whom he’d like to grow older
Sometimes plans and friends
come together, designed for us to remember -
that at all times we need to try harder
to make the sometimes happen.
Apr 22, 2023
Apr 22, 2023 at 10:52 AM UTC
so the *** debate is raging
like a Californian
wildfire in the forests,
people are "presumed"
missing...
i'm sat watching
back to the future
(beats star wars, every,
single time:
the ****** is more obvious)
and then drinking...
i always wanted to
taste a lobster...
and listening to the best of
billy joel...
scratching my mustache...
BELGIANS IN
THE UK!
then fiddling with my bead...
my beard...
i have a beard?!i
**** i have a beard!
i took, fiddling with my *****
the wrong way...
after all ****** airs
have the same feel
as ***** hair...
a bit like cleavage...
so...
you're donningv
the buttock crack
up-front?!
funny, eh?
making fun of the phallus...
how about feeding
a Donnie Disney with your,
puppies?!
how about that?
***
if women do need
no men...
do what we do...
**** off anal-style...
we do the **** projective...
you cut out utilizing
the ******
look... 'appy bunnies"
if ai am about to turn
into a *****
the female right...
all the rights you require...
sure... have them...
but what sort of right
is it,
when there's no
existentialist argument?
go on... please...
make your dodo
and your
mixed-raced argument...
mono-racial is
the new neanderthal...
call it...
we're not progressive enough...
we're too ********
to mingle ethnicity...
call it!
call me halfway house
between down and
the ******
call it!
call it!
***** better call it!
(through gritting teeth):
call it!
i said... call it!
be your progressive "self"...
call it!
i'm ******** for not mingling
adequately enough with
crafting a trans-ethnicity populace...
neanderthal...
***** call it!
guess what... i love the laced
take on history via the Anglophone
re-reinterpretation
of Darwinism...
i love the neanderthal take on thiongs...
i'm bilingual, schizophrenic,
the sort of mongrel that...
has no place among
the duo-ethnicity... "mongrels"...
lucky you, lucky me...
i'm sorry... the F extends just so far...
two languages, orange man, bad...
but a congregation of
a dual ethnicity, green man, god,
and "the" good...
whatever suits your favor...
i should care,
i won't care,
i don't care,
i will, to never ever give a ****
about caring;
like god "said":
on your own;
i much prefer the freedoms
of the jungle,
than the restrictions of a zoo.
it's billy joel, "by the way"...
life will go on...
obviously a life much ********
than the intelligent people are used
to...
but... if that's what you allow...
then you're deserving it.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
Alright all you pigeon chests
Came the sound of thunder from the open door
As Big Bad Bart replaced the space
Giant mountain man of lore
Making his way into the bar
Sweeping Nancy boys out of his way
Stepping up to the the jukebox
Kicking it till some good ole country boy music played
This mountain man has made it his goal
To grab hold and unsissify
Any Wimpy Wally's
That happen to catch his manly eye
He started off his conquest
Out in the great North wood
First stop The Red Eye Back Door Saloon
Need I explain the name to you
He went in with his moral barrels a blazing
But there wasn't much he could do
Village people the only band on the jukebox
Y.M.C.A. being the only tune
He didn't let that little nitch stop him
Or slow him down by any means
Giving America back to the menly men
And not the mousey men with their girly dreams
Till the day that Bart locked eyes with Stanly
In that San Francisco flower bar
Those two haven't left each others side
Going through life now arm and arm
They spend their time skipping through fields of pansies
Giggling freely hand in hand
The way Bart now feels this was meant to be
Mia Mono, Man to Man
Bart's lumberjack buddies can't believe it
And don't know what to think of their friend
Although they all secretly admit
He does look good in those Hot Pink Hot Pants
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
hello 4am,
we meet again..
but do you have to be so rasping?
drowning in my thoughts,
they want me to give in..
im nazlanmak.
mono no aware
reminding me of my Erlebnisse.
am i lonely or in love?
which one is worse?
i am an enternitarian.
i help me to live another day,
so 4am you will not be the decider of my fate.
i am druxy, indeed..
but do you have to rub it in?
will we ever get along?
are you interested?
4am you are franching at my soul,
eating at my being
& i can never be of eunoia
.. because of you
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 4:33 AM UTC
No monophonic masterpiece
Sung on a monorail
In monotone with MSG
That's monosodium glutamate
I say that monotonously
A monoplane monopoly
A monomaniac with monomania
A monocle for monoculars
A monograph of monogamy
Monocetyledons- plants with single seeds
A monolith that's monogramed and monochromatic
You know the monosyllable of monotheism as fact
There is no monomial for mononucleosis
Are eggs mononuclear?
Monoxide just sounds dangerous
I have a monolingual term for mono
It's bad so please don't catch it
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC