"nanosecond" poems
“I need to talk to you.” I hate these words. Because in a nanosecond I felt nervous; uneasiness filled my heart, afraid of what you are going to say & afraid of what will happen next. These words are just like the introduction of all the stories I have read. The stories that will always end up breaking my heart.
“I don’t love you anymore.” There. I know that was the second line you are going to say. I expected that. But I guess even though how much you are prepared for the situation and how much you expect that that may cause your heartbreak, you cannot help not to be hurt so much. I did not know what to feel that time. It was a myriad emotion and inexplicable feelings, tears are falling down my face and at the same time my body suddenly feels weak. And I did not know what to do.
It seems like yesterday since you told me that you will always be here when I needed you and that we are going to see together those places we are never going through. Your lips that tell me you really love me and your eyes that can tell it is true; that you are sincere. It has been just like a storm that came in and you are that storm that suddenly destroys my whole life when you left me.
Now I finally understand why storms are named after people.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
a parhelion forms with
the sun’s peaking out,
irradiating your eye
in crown.
there is a sanguine wonder
to your cigarette as
you drag your lungs
across the floor.
citrine is your smoke
crawling across
the bed.
light moves.
a nanosecond passes by.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 10:23 AM UTC
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark
Atomic particles, how can it be so
that your purpose is not just to flow
in and out of existence, building reality--
the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies--
but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies”
and demanding “safe spaces”
(even though their entire race is
at the top of their planet’s food chain).
In this mysterious universe there is no safety,
accountability or identity,
only elements, and energy.
Brief combinations make life
legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife.
Biology does not know oppression,
only generation, reproduction,
until our growth chokes us and we fall
like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died
on this blue-green ball.
And one day the sun will explode and blow
even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression),
and the particles will go far until maybe they sow
new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
every poem gets the exact number
of reads it deserves
<>
nah, I don't think that for
a millisecond,
shoot,
not a ****** nanosecond (1)
truthfully
I'm torn up inside
and my thinking
absolutely
could be wrong
or could be right
absolutely
just like the optionality
of believing in god;
has to be some force
of intelligence that
could create such
microscopic complexity randomly
or just thinking the world
is just a series of accidentally
interactions
so
who's to say what's good,
what's not so good,
and by what standard
one should judge
Is this a poem?
Heck if I know
and what sbout the poems that
get not a one,
a single one, absence of curiosity,
an unheralded execution.
death by silent ignorance,
a master's mastery of exactitude
all because
just because
Is that a collective decision
by an unconscious collective,
the best moderne equivalent of
the unmarked death
of just a single one of
your billions of brain cells (2)(3)
all I know is
that my confusion is confirmed
my constancy is inconsistent
my equatorial balance is
gonzo, dragging me down,
each division wants to piece me up,
and today,
right now
got no answers
at all
how do I define myself?
what categories do I fit
within?
and yet
that answers one question!
**do not write interrogatory inquisitions
at 1:15 am
(unless you're a DUMB lucky *******
who believes they got
answers**)
Jul 12, 2025
Jul 12, 2025 at 3:19 PM UTC
Senses endlessly riddled:
the nanosecond-data-bullets
**** through too fast to be absorbed
by roots of thought
for eye of truth
to photosynthesize,
Like the flowerpot forgotten
wilting on a windowsill
outer leaves beneath the sky
fiercely lashed by heavy rain
soil dry as a desert:
Aghast, it feels itself
_slowly_ dying of thirst in the downpour.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 11:07 AM UTC
You know,
I once told you
That I would always love you.
That nothing could change that.
But now I'm not so sure.
You changed so much
In what at the time
Seemed like forever
Because you were ignoring me.
Now I realise
In the grand scheme of things
It took more like a nanosecond
For you to become
What you now are.
I however
Appear to have evolved
In order to survive the way you changed.
So I don't know if I love you anymore,
It's not that simple.
But what I do know is;
I will never forgive you
For what you
Have forced me
To become.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
In dazzled astonishment
She looked up from her reverie
As she heard the flap of wings overhead
And saw the flash of laser beams in her dim lit room
Before her, stood a winged seraph
A radiant silhouette with such gentleness and grace
As never beholden on any human face
With its hands raised in benediction,
It saluted Mary and said
“Blessed art thou amongst women…
……………………………………
The rest she heard in a trance.
Unable to comprehend what was said,
The girl looked up nonplussed.
Again it said, “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee
And a son shall be born of thee
Whom you shall call Jesus”
In that nanosecond of a new revelation
Did Mary’s world shatter like glassware
Or did her ****** womb thrill with new life
Did she swim in the waters of joyful tidings?
Or gyrate in the sweeping swirl of tidal waves
For the girl already espoused to a man
In whose dreams his comely form had begun
Flitting in and out
Was it a moment of silent ravishment?
Or of stupefied bewilderment
Did a dagger cut through her heart?
Or did her soul take wing in flight???
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
I trace my fingertips across the car door
making designs in the dirt.
You yell at me,
but I can't hear you.
All I can hear is the
pounding of my heart.
The blood pumping through my body
echoes in my ears,
and your voice sounds distant.
What I imagine it sounds like after a bomb goes off to those
who were standing too close.
I stare at the the ground, the setting sun,
the neat circles of dirt on the tips of my fingers,
anywhere but at you.
Even though your looks are
bouncing off me like rubber bands,
even though your words sound
like they're going through a filter,
I can tell you are begging me to look at you.
Ears ringing, eyes stinging,
I slowly meet your gaze.
Now, I'm no lip reader,
but I could see the venom dripping
off your lips as you spoke.
There's no mistaking that foul, fricative-fronted phrase.
But I deserve it, I know.
You look as if you are about to say something else,
but you stop yourself with just a nanosecond to spare.
The words left your brain but
never made it to your tongue.
Instead, the thought manifested itself in silent tears
that dripped down your face.
Tracing my mistakes
across the the cheeks I used to caress,
down the neck I used to kiss,
toward the heart I didn't mean to break.
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
A Moth rests on your nose for your solace,
Disoriented by anxious breaths instead.
Still your lungs.
Postpone your life for another’s,
an insect that lives for an average of three days is worth
more than you of eighty years.
It has less time to live and
So is forced to live each nanosecond as its minute.
Hold your breath for a second and give it thousands of moments
To study the purpose of your pores, the nature of your nostrils, the message of your mouth.
It is a blessing that one who has such a blink of a life should choose you.
Its tentative, exploring antennae acknowledge your existence
For that moment
You are its universe.
You
Are the mountains, and underwater caves, the forests, the savannah, the tundra, the planets.
You
Are the suffocating suburbia, the twitchy towns, the neglected neighborhoods, the seductive cities.
You
Are sighing waterfalls, lighthearted hills, free-spirited skies, heartwarming dreams.
If god was the universe,
Then you’re set for heaven.
Except
The Moth flies away
Leaving you to take its place.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 8:59 PM UTC
I think I need a girlfriend
But maybe then I don’t
Suffice to say
That when the day
Comes I get what I want, I won’t
Waste a minute, waste a moment
A nanosecond or more
I’m by no means clingy
But the joy she’ll bring me
I’ll glady return in scores
I think I need a girlfriend
My hand is far too cold
It speaks to me
(Between ************
And asks for another to hold
Was that too much information?
If it was, apologies are due
It’s just, you see
The overwhelming lonely
Like ***** sometimes accrues
I need to shut up if I want a girlfriend
My censorship is not the best
My intentions are pure
But my words get obscured
As soon as they leave my chest
Because... ugh... and also... grrr
And **** And **** And sigh
I just want... you know
So we can... smile?
And if someone would give it a try
Then I would love and cherish a girlfriend
Id wipe away the tears
From her, from me
And everything
And love her, far or near
I’m distant and I’m awkward
I’m clumsy and sometimes stupid
I’ve been the ****
Of love, a joke
And the victim of broken arrows from Cupid
I think I need a girlfriend
Who sees me for the poetry
Without a word spoke
Nor the ones that I wrote
Just one who accepts me for me
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
As I lie in bed,
Flat on my back;
I think of life in a kaleidoscope setting
Colorful, plentiful and carefully chosen
My daily worries about my Future endeavors
I became the silence of the lamb character for a nanosecond
Politician and political threats in Washington DC
still debating: some silently ************
Women holding up signs teasing the president’s daughter
Old men gazing at her pretty face with drooling ****** emoji
Thinking out loud, about the " if only"
As I lie in bed,
Flat on my back; thinking
is 2017 the year of critical thinking?
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
your eyes are dazzling,
i think its the sun
shining brighter than a diamond ring
but the sun hasn't shun.
i could think of better ways
to dream of your anatomy,
to wish strands of your hair were found in my bed for days,
and to brush the eyelashes off the cheeks of my darling thee.
with the static vision you see when your eyes are closed,
and the nanosecond blindness when you open them,
how when you gave me that smile and my heart rose,
i swear your eyes were shining like an emerald gem.
but its the abstract sense of hope you give me,
the abstract hope that is love.
who could have done this? only but he,
the fantastic illusion greets you with what feels like a shove.
though we treat love as the air we breathe,
thinking it will always be here
and love will never leave.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
How can you define time?
Is there a definition to it?
Some say time passes fast.
Some say it passes slow.
The universe has been around for billions of years.
But that wasn't long ago, right?
There is no beginning to time.
Or end to it.
It's infinite.
But, is a second little or a lot of time?
A second is in an hour is in a day is in a week is in a month is in a year is in a decade is in a century is in a millennial, is in a million years is in a billion years is in a trillion years and so forth.
Yet...
A nanosecond is in a microsecond is in a millisecond is in a hundredth of a second is in a tenth of a second is in a ninth of a second is in an eighth of a second is in a seventh of a second is in a sixth of a second is in a fifth of a second is in a fourth of a second is in a third of a second is in half a second and so forth.
Time doesn't start, but it doesn't end.
TIME IS INFINITE!
What is the definition of infinite?
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
A bullet fired
in one nanosecond
effectively nullifies
forty years.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
1. Check your courage, your humanity, your common decency, your ***** in the cloakroom of pathetic
2. Spend not a nanosecond thinking about how it would feel if it were done to you, reminding yourself how sad, justified, and relieved you feel
3. Debate tween text and email, choose text cause it is shorter, less time consuming, and packs more punch
4. Be proud of your courageous forthrightness in dealing with human problems so directly
5. Immediately (or prior) text all your friends what you have done
6. Make plans for a party so you can begin trolling the field. Of course not! (invite the ex, that would be cruel)
7. Proceed to smear your ex in person, in secret, to justify how good and kind and used you are and were. Laser focus on new target person who really turns you on
8. Show around all the ex's break up poems for laughs.
9. Shampoo and rinse your soul with lye, and repeat, 2 - 3 times a week. If you notice any self improvement, call your doctor immediately!
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC
EDEKA is a small grocery market here in Germany, and it's usually stuck between other shops. It’s like that where I go. Tucked inside a mini-shopping center, across the street from a Penny Markt there it hides. Before you enter, a flower shop to your left waves and tries to distract. I hardly ever give it notice, until today I had one of those flashback moments like an old hippie hearing a cool LSD trip laughing past him. I was busy thinking about work, and what food I needed to buy when the flowers flashed and a dormant trace flickered. And just for a nanosecond, I thought "wouldn't it be nice to get her some flowers today." Blue-violet iris came and went with the skip of one heart beat. It was easy to keep walking past into the EDEKA.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
"my day will be different today"
she declares, when she sees herself hidden in
in a passing spending and breaking broken
drive-by scribbled-pretend, urgent poem,
stumbled upon by a heavenly calculated accident
gladdened, saddened. now dressed to the nines,
that piece of me, wherever it be, the parade ground,
where the words and letters assemble,
where the firemen train,
adding logs, love, accursed ego,
to the hearth,
steady on burning, to practice putting out the
ohms and uh-uh's
of electrical resistance that
your response, a shiny knife of a self-reflecting observation
has...ho ** **
sparkling stabbing mirror
this one, a simple script, a written pyramid,
built by an Israelite, who by command, perforce
mustn't but does write prophecies
that may or may not come to being,
poem pyramids,
surely none will not survive Darius's desert sandstorms
ravaging kisses of time's forgetting
but your simple complementation
fits inside quite nicely, for its simplicity,
because it is a
provocation stabbing piercing a self-questioning, of
why to write I need pen paper and ink,
and don't forget those stupid teardrops in the clear vial
the Zola j'accuse
of every poet, even the gone-ones,
looking down
at highest bar in poetry!
did I really do that?
even for a brief moment,
a nanosecond,
me words
modify the entire continental shelf
that another writer occupies,
change its axis, the rate of spin,
the angle of another's
solitary human's day
nah
all i did was read (all) her poetry, imaging imaginng
a life so foreign, putting me inside of thee, and
let my stubs, the remains of worn fingers do the rest
so I guess it could be true
what you wrote,
but about me
"my day will be different today"
and why I practice this
wonderfully ridiculous
craft,
cause the pay is so
**** good
10:36am
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
If my poem arouses you then I know
I am doing something good
I am the poet,
the narrator of this poem
I write what I feel,
I say what I like
Somehow, I captivate my audience
Who I am, and who you think I am
or what you think of me.
Have no bearings
on this poet's work
Therefore, I am who I am,
without the smearing
I am from this Century
where I am free from *******
my words spread in a nanosecond,
across the internet,
however, my lip are sealed
my poetic spirit guides me:
until it’s time to orchestra
an forgettable vogon list of poems
with my unique vernacular
I can take you the mountain top and
Make you believe it’s easy to climb
I can make you reach for the star,
Knowing that it’s unreachable by far
Life has a way of making you fall on your behind
The language I use, it far too complicated
Because I celebrates life with poetry
As well as I loathes it
So what’s your question?
I probably knows the answer
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
I'd move to "the great white north" for you
in a nanosecond.
Just say the word and I would
pack up everything I have and make a life
with you anywhere you want, really.
Because I think I fell in love with you
the first time I met you
behind a church in the middle of June
where we played basketball with your band.
I'm fairly certain we're soul mates
but that could just be my eighteen-year-old heart
talking.
I think a relationship like ours would be
what planes are for and passports and endless possibilities.
I'm okay with not knowing what would happen
between us. I don't find it scary
that it's a giant risk.
I'm ready.
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 2:48 PM UTC
All our senses concatenate, building on each other
<>
this interplay is truly interplanetary,
for each of us a unique solar system,
our brains,
intricacy literally personified,
and our five senses, working
in
concatenation
our long range sensors, busy bees compiling inputs
by the nanosecond second, distilling, integrating.
blending and then reconstructing…into a whole!
*a gentle breeze ruffles the hair,
the tree swing rises and flows
of its own accord, no passported
passenger required, and a neighbor’s
American Flag, moves majestically &
impressively, whipping, dancing, yes, prancing
to a tune only it can hear,
the syncopated air currents providing
a rhythmic awesome inspiring beat…*
and the brain takes this all in, a momentary
second of a vista that is constantly flexing,
yet remains unchanged, a muscular view
of a real world, living but yet immutable,
and I utter thanks to my motor functions,
that bless me with the eyes to perceive,
the nostrils to smell sea salt flavored air,
the hearing ears that the know the imperceptible
orchestrations of silences by their absence
and their intrusion, and I touch my fingertips
to my tongue, wetted, and hyper sensitized
to that gentle breeze that decorates the
landscapes external,
*and the combinatory
addition of the all of it, into a single momentary
poem of recall, what I “knew” yesterday, & will
greet again this coming day, as an old unfamiliar
friend, who grasps me entire, and proclaims:
this is living…and the greatest satisfaction that
a speck of mortal can achieve, retain and
through impoverished words…share*
4:14am
Mon Jul 22
2 0 2 4
Jul 22, 2024
Jul 22, 2024 at 4:25 AM UTC
So lovely are the constellations
when I see them in your eyes,
shapes of stories and legends
and dreams of light.
My heartbeat accelerates
at the speed of sound.
Perhaps aliens who are
zettameters,
lightyears away
can still hear this muscle
singing your name
like a magic chant.
Heaven lost a star,
and you are right here,
just barely out of my reach.
*Even in this clouded city,
I can still look at you
and see the entire galaxy
in the span of a nanosecond.*
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 4:58 AM UTC
how is the weather today,
the inquiry semi-formally, mumbly delivered
(in pj's, eyes closed, body turned away)
and I softly smile for somewhere here
the poet-boy once wrote
"all my poems begin with weather"
and the composing begins, which of course,
is the decomposing of me-pieces
into nanosecond emotions
that each becomes a verses
until a certain voice
wise whispers "no mas"
my reply, nano bytes of me,
is a forecast personal and tailored
to our GPS location,
the bedroom
"Swami says
looking inside, outside too,
report and retort
it appears quite nice,"
(quietly semi-whispering,
100% chance of snuggling, followed by severe
love making, its arrival foreshadowed by lighting biting and
foot rubbing, and licking winds of heaving breathing,
conditions, we explorers of the caves and local mounts
so oft encounter on our Atlantic captive isle,
and bravely sally forth to face its bullets of kicks 'n kisses)
from under the covers,
we hear swarming,
warning bolts of
snorting derision
but this fire eating ,
most fearsome
nostrillian, reptilian morning beastie noise,
we hardy sailors hardily choose to ignore
but lack of detail is unappreciated so our response amended:
"looking outside, report and retort
it appears quite nice, with 100% chance
of showers of coffee and kisses"
which earns me a sweetie kick
all my poems, the poet-man once wrote,
"all my poems end with whether"
*apparently, this one as well.
oh well, oh well!*
7/8/17 8:14am
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 8:22 AM UTC
in my dream last night
my favorite poet
Sam Pink
wrote a list of reasons
why I ****
and why
he hates me
reading it
was probably the coolest thing
that's happened to me
and it wasn't even real
I've been saying
my depression has been
getting better
but has it?
does it matter?
does anything matter?
(nope)
why do I care
about my emotional health
when everything
that occurs to me
has no value nor importance
the only impact
I will ever have
will be
to other people
other
mortal sacks of flesh
whose lives
are equally as meaningless
as my own
all of my words
and thoughts
and lack of emotion
exist for less than a nanosecond
in the entirety
of the universe
I'll just continue
distracting myself
from humanities
inevitable fragility
each human life
each of our
manifestations of consciousness
are as irrelevant
as a grain of sand-
tiny
bland
and irritating
together we form
a beach
the kind that nobody wants
to spend a day at
scattered with trash
and a pungent smell
bury your head in the sand
and ignore reality
write me a list of reasons
why my existence is pathetic
I will agree and nod along
everything that is in myself
is inside everyone else
death is inevitable
so get used to it
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
I have always found nightmares spectacularly beautiful
and beautiful dreams spectacularly nightmarish.
For when one is awoken by images of
blood plummeting from the heavens.
They are completely grateful,
if only for a nanosecond.
To be conscious.
Alive in a world where the worst thing to come from the clouds
Are chemical drops. Subtle reminders of brief existences.
When one is awoken by images of
Their own unique idea of heaven.
They are completely disenchanted,
if only for a nanosecond.
By their own consciousness.
Alive in a world where there is an explanation for everything
Under the sun. Subtle reminders of never ending tick-tocks.
While awake we are mechanical beings.
Our freewill existing solely in slumber.
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 7:27 PM UTC
Without you……
Loneliness is a selfish word
In empty corridors and cold beds
But I have never felt so close to you
I can feel your smile soft caress closeness
Distance is a nanosecond in light speed loving
Sleepy Sunday waking wanting wishing
Sad dreams now pastoral pleasures
Desire the reality of past love
Happiness beckons hope
…with you soon
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:38 AM UTC