"newton" poems
Mass is not proportional to volume
A girl as small as a violet
A girl who moves like a flower’s petal
She attracts me with a force greater than her mass
Now, I
am like Newton’s apple
Rolled and fell toward her unstoppably
With a thump, a thump
My heart
Keeps bouncing between the sky and the ground
It was my first love.
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 3:18 AM UTC
The bees don't care what you say,
The bees go their own way.
Don't be like a monkey,
Rather be like a bee,
You can't tell them what to do,
the bees just defy you.
You can hold down the seas,
but you can't hold down the bees,
Who are you to tell them what to do,
We are the many run by the few.
Newton is my god,
god is good,
god is great.
Forgive me father,
for I have sinned.
I am sorry,
for questioning thee.
Bless upon the fruit that fell and freed us!
Bless upon the monkeys that gave birth to us!
Bless upon the pictures that they painted for us!
Bless upon the cosmic scaled **** that made us!
You are my eyes,
my prophet,
my seer,
my revelator,
put thoughts in my head,
and I will repeat what you have said
Our thoughts are not our own,
We are not safe, even in our home.
Monkey see, monkey do,
we are the many run by the few.
Don't be like a monkey,
rather be like a bee,
don't do what they say,
forget what you have learnt and levitate away.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
This was just published so it is copyright 2015 by Holy Cow Press ~ mce
Poverty is the fence around your life. Poverty wakes you up at 4 AM only to whisper meaningless slogans in your ear. It is the school of Piranha nibbling at the back of your brain. It is two hours waiting in the anteroom of despair for $22 worth of food stamps and being glad to be there. It is changing your phone number frequently because bill collectors are such boring conversationalists. It is the empty space your heels used to fill. It is letting your hair grow long and scraggly and your grizzled beard sprout because you know that although you sleep in rented rooms tonight, the street is not far off, and you want to fit in when you arrive. Poverty scalds the lint from your pockets. It is your private Treblinka within which you rage but are crushed. It is desperate prayers against dental catastrophes, blown tires, surprises of any sort. Poverty is when everything you own is frayed including your nerves from sleepless moments spent trying to solve the equation that will make X number of dollars cover X + ? number of bills, knowing that such math would defeat Newton or Einstein. Poverty is eying the cat's kibble imagining that with a bit of sugar and a splash of milk it might be fine and then eyeballing the cat himself thinking of protein of last resort and trying not to measure him against the microwave door. You ration your cigarettes; whiskey is a fading memory. Passing a diner on the street, you catch a whiff of burgers too expensive to consider and experience a Pavlovian moment. Poverty is trying to keep your head up and then remembering you pawned your neck. Poverty is watching the needle eat your last few gallons of gas. Poverty is the archeology of despair. It portends the death of irony. There is nothing ironic about a car with 217,000 miles and no insurance on it. Facts are facts in the world of poverty. Poverty is the last quarter reclaimed from beneath the cushions. It is too much time and not enough quarters. It is the specious logic of the self-righteous proclaiming that you deserve to be poor because you are, which in Amerika passes for wisdom. Poverty makes each day like the next because nothing does not vary. It is who you are and where you are going, although you won't get far. It is the life you lead inside the fence. It is the sum of what you lack. It just is.
- mce
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
I think there was something wrong with my bladder
I noticed I was starting to *** a lot
(Must have had an infection somewhere),
It was like every thirty minutes I was going off to the loo
At this rate I thought you'll have the handle of the loo worn off with all the toilet flushing you're doing,
A little while later I'm out in my back garden walking, getting some air
And there's this... there's this great big **** just growing there
And I think to myself "I wonder what'd happen if I peed on that ****
Would it **** it or have any effect on it'
So I started peeing on the **** and you know strangely it starts to become this kind of obsession with me
A kind of a scientific experiment, this peeing on the ****
(Probably shows how empty my life is LoL)
All through the day I go out to *** on my ****
Even at night I go out with a flashlight just to *** on my ****
And sure enough about a week and a half later
The leaves their all starting to wilt, the whole plant just starts turning to mush
Well that's quite a discovery I say to myself,
*** it's a a potent weedkiller
And then there's this other **** a different kind of **** and I start peeing on that one too
And y'know the same thing happens
After a week or two of being constantly peed upon
The other **** starts to wilt as well turn to mush
I'm suddenly reminded of the famous old scientist Issac Newton
The guy who was out in his garden one day and got hit on the head with the apple and then invented gravity
(What goes up must come down)
"Well", I thought, "Issac you're not the only one who discovered something in his garden
Us scientists, yea! we got to stick together, we're a rare breed altogether"
Anyway awhile later I'm down the shop and I bump into this neighbour of mine
He asks me 'Are you enjoying the lovely Spring weather ?'
I told him I was, that it was lovely weather
Then he asks 'Are you doing any Spring cleaning, that house of yours ?'
I thought for a second, then said "Spring cleaning...Naw!"
Then I smiled "But I have... I have been doing a spot of gardening though".
May 2, 2022
May 2, 2022 at 8:08 PM UTC
Trump invades Nicaragua;
lights a powder keg to the
relief of everyone; let's get
on w/ it; change the world;
otherwise Nicaragua threatens
to become another Syria w/
Sandanista vs. Sandanista &
drug lords & communists;
mercenaries; contractors
& experimental weapons;
welcome to a world that is torn
completely in two to everyone's
relief for the sheer catharsis;
that is what frenzied freedom
looks & feels like; touches like,
smells like, ***** & eats like;
the madman in the marketplace
is the last person who can spell
Bourgeoisie & Ancien Régime;
Disestablishmentarianism &
Nouveau riche; time & technology
will turn the soil of psychology
churning up some never before
seen creature; mankind is suicidal;
this new Being will have no such
concept; coming in & out existence
like walking through a door; time
is meaningless running in countless
waves in all directions; space is
flexible like clay; women & men
create each other to the limits of their
imagination; Newton laid the foundation
& Einstein painted the ceiling; Pascal,
Hawking; Leibniz & Nietzsche & every
poet that ever lived or never lived; every
celestial siren & songstress who whispered
in a magical scribe's ear & he scratched
the miles & hours & places & people there;
thus, it began somewhere far out in space;
but they've been there all along; peaceful,
loving, able to shape-shift to perform
pleasurable functions in accordance w/
mankind's selfish wishes; mankind thinking
it's putting one over on the new species,
still finds itself bogged down in Nicaragua
long after Trump has built his Presidential
Library & joined the aliens like everyone
else; the poor Nicaraguans & Guatemalans
& Hondurans fighting it out to the death;
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
In my pursuit of a higher education
I am now starting to study the process of human decomposition
And how strange we all rot away like road **** and plant vegetation.
I see the word Casper and my memory takes me back to when I was a child
Remembering he was a sad and lonely invisible cartoon character.
I am now reading it is a proven scientific law, that after you pass
And you give up your ghost, your body then becomes
A breeding ground and you are the decaying host.
Trying to hide the evidence you’re now digging a shallow grave
Don’t do that because it takes eight times longer
Thinking about submerging in water? Yes, it’s a little quicker
But if someone did you seriously wrong and unfair
The quickest way to decompose them is,
Just leave them hiding under some brush and in the summer open air
So then the flies, insects and bee's’ can make a home in their hair.
Sir Isaac Newton told the world how gravity should behave
And now a modern man proved it is no longer so
I can see now, Newton is raging hard and deep inside his grave.
I have not a single fear the only thing that scares me is,
I know without any doubt now that I am insanely brave
Trust me I’ll drag your corpse also and hide it in my make shift grave.
I’m out on a night prowl to change Casper’s law
And prove to you all that it was really only just a theory
Reading books about death gives me a thrill,
Better pray and hope I don’t someday become terminally ill
Everything I do stems from my madness and with it,
Premeditated thoughts and also a great conspiracy.
(SirCARSr. 3-2-2013)
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
two days
before we loaded the car
with what seemed like the entirety
of my heart and belongings
to move me across the state to attend college,
my baby brother found me on the kitchen floor,
crying
about the microwave.
well,
not just the microwave.
he found me in a crumpled up heap,
sobbing that this day
would be the last i had
to microwave things
in
this
particular
microwave.
i couldn’t justify my lament then.
my dad chalked it up to ***
my brother called me a drama queen,
and my mom told me i needed to eat less microwaveable things.
but i think i might’ve figured it out now.
five months later.
y’see, i grew up an ARMY brat.
attended five different elementary schools,
two separate middle schools,
one high school,
and two colleges.
i was never good at saying goodbye,
but i’m a pro at walking away.
i found out quickly
that while the faces and names
of my friends and classmates
change from state to state,
the character tropes
stay basically the same.
people and places become such replaceable things.
i worry,
a lot,
about being a replaceable thing.
there are talented people in this world.
people that can divine the past and future
from coffee grounds and tea leaves.
but can anyone here tell me what kinds of awful things my footsteps say about me?
there are boot marks,
with my name on them,
in places i know i should never have been.
and clumps of dirt stuck to my heels
that have been with me longer than some friends have.
i sat on the floor last night
while my love explained physics to me.
he told me
that gravity is a constant force,
and of course,
the earth’s gravity affects each and every one of us.
but our individual gravity affects the earth as well.
according to newton’s third law,
the earth pulls of me
with the same force that i pull on the earth.
my mass disrupts space time.
carl sagan once told me
through the clarifying prism of the television screen,
that we are all stardust,
collapsed suns
and black matter.
we belong to no place.
i belong to no place.
i belong to no place.
i don’t cry about the microwave anymore,
i don’t waste my tears on saying goodbye.
i know that every thing and every one has their time,
and sometimes that time is brief.
it’s a hard pill to swallow,
ultimately my favorite self descriptor is ‘infallible’.
but somedays, i fall
just to stand up and see:
the sun still rises,
the earth still turns,
the microwave still makes bomb-ass chicken nuggets,
and i am still here.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
Eve shared it and
Condemned human kind.
Newton felt it and
Changed the world's mind.
Snow White tasted it and
Proved love at first sight.
Turing used it and
Left the world behind.
That is how
I realized
It was me, who
Gave you the power
To change
Or ruin
My life.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
the amount of melanin in my skin often seems to conjure up some controversy so when I sit down to write and I see my hands, my light skinned not quite black but surely not white hands I think about the privileges thrusted upon me and when I begin to write I feel my hair against my back, my curly ***** but not quite ***** hair I wonder how what's on my head could make what's in it so frazzled
I often frustrate myself because I feel like my writing often centers around the fact that I am a woman and I am colored
and the fact that when I say I'm colored some look lost
in fact, in the film, for colored girls
Thandie Newton's character says "being alive and being a woman is all I got, but being colored is a metaphysical dilemma I haven't conquered yet."
and I found it frightening how relatable that was to me, being that I'm not quite almost a woman and not quite almost colored
but when I look at my poems they reflect that I indeed am
even though I'm lightskinned and I'm 16 and according to my white friends I'm, just like them because, as I've discovered our definitions of what a black girl sounds like and acts like and is like are extremely different
and I guess that reflects on who we've been introduced to
I have cousins and aunts and grandmothers and sisters
who represent what I believe emulate what a black woman is
and these white kids see what the media feeds about how black women walk and talk and act and lack
see when I picture a black woman I see beautiful smooth chocolate skin full lips round ******* wide hips and a smile as brilliant as her mind
when these kids picture a black woman they see ***** hair dark undesirable skin soup cooler lips and a mind filled with ignorance
and this is where my struggle begins
But in every ethnic group there is good and bad
and I am sick of black women only being associated with the bad
the fact that when most non blacks think of what a black woman is, they imagine an unintelligible mindless sassy loud mouth is over whelming to me
if you're skin isn't light enough or your behind isn't big enough you're only "pretty for a black girl"
I not only want to raise but destroy all expectations society gives black women
but I cannot do this alone
because we are smart and we are beautiful
we are troubled and we are strong
and we are one
once we stop tearing eachother down we can all be one
and I'm not sure why god blessed black women with so much beauty or why I'm so blessed to be one or why he put this determination in me but I think I will recognize it the day the world recognizes how beautiful are we.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith, and love, and every grace;
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek, more earnestly, His face.
‘Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And He, I trust, has answered prayer!
But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.
I hoped that in some favored hour,
At once He’d answer my request;
And by His love’s constraining pow’r,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.
Instead of this, He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow’rs of hell
Assault my soul in every part.
Yea more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.
Lord, why is this, I trembling cried,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
“‘Tis in this way, the Lord replied,
I answer prayer for grace and faith.
These inward trials I employ,
From self, and pride, to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou may’st find thy all in Me.”
~ John Newton (1725-1807)
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
We had recovering drug addicts come in
Talking to us with their sunken
Ashy eyes
And sweaty palms
You could tell they were nervous by the
Way they carried themselves
Cinder blocks and
Broken piano parts
And their pasts
All clinging to them,
For life support
They talked about how easy
It was to let gravity eat you alive
As you are falling into a black pit
You can’t stop the falling
Their wings were bound to
Pseudo lovers who
Gave them bruised arms
And blue fingers.
If you are lucky enough to
Escape the clenched hands of
Addiction,
The rest of your life will
Be a walking tightrope act
Trapeze dancers
One slip and you are falling
Even faster
Harder than before.
And your family, friends,
Everyone you have ever known is
In the audience watching you
Fall into your premature grave
And there is nothing they can do
But tell you to fly
But you cant
Because you just love your
Mistress too much
To ever let her go.
And they warned us about
How hard it might be to say no
To not let the circus come into
Town, but if you do
Only you can pack up the
Lions, clowns,
Colorful balloons.
Someone asked them if they
Believe drugs should be legalized
And he responded with
If I walk into a gas station
And see drugs for sale I will
Not be able to hold myself
Upright.
But I also do not want a government
Establishment to tell me what I can
And cannot ingest into my body,
So I don’t know.
Newton’s First Law of Motion
States that something will keep moving
Unless some force acts upon it.
And once you start drugs
Or gambling
Or skipping meals
it will progressively
Worsen in time.
Festering in bloodstreams
Until you decide to stop it.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
Naked pictures of God on my nightstand,
Dry bones of Moses painted on my button down shirt screaming,
“to be or not to be” is not an English word.
In the daze of the thoughts of Neurology, I saw a man kick a bucket full of Starbucks giftcards down the avenue street. He screamed in pain as he watched the bucket tumble and roll down the street, blessing every Bohemian with a slight cold.
Naked pictures of God on my nightstand,
I dreamt about a land before man where the Oxygen that sprang from the pores of flowers
sang a sweet death. Where dishwashers are saints, for afterall, man will not be if not for food.
Where books are written not to be read, but for the sake of Orange trees that will grow in the future.
I once wore a poker face to a funeral and laughed at the man in the casket because the souls he had underneath him were two left feet.
*We all once had naked pictures of God on our nightstands but lost it after Einstein
Lost the fried chicken war of 1812 to Isaac Newton.*
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 9:30 PM UTC
i know what newton tells us
i know countries and continents and cities
i know the planets and their moons
but i did not know the galaxy of my body the planets that are my organs or the nebula of my mind
until you showed me
you taught me and showed me and led me with coarse hands and eyes deeper than any space i have ever traveled. you caught me in your gravity when you showed me ribosomes and platelets and when you traced my veins like they were a map you needed to follow without even knowing where it would take you. you told me the cosmos are forever but the body dies and that is far more beautiful than any atmosphere or supernova. i want to chart the stars on your skin with my mouth and i want to show you the taste of an atom and i want to teach you what overexposure to your radiation does to me but you are already laughing and telling me that something as small as you does not deserve the attention of the universe.
when i said i wish i had never met you
i told the truth
the universe was easier to comprehend
when it was only dead stars
instead of the way you look at me
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
Science is intriguing
With such reliable sources
Is it the physics and chemistry?
Or that of an electrostatic force?
Newton's law of motion
Along with kinetic energy
We open our minds and learn
What a pleasant sight to see
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
When Rome fell down,
Don Newton with his flashing blade
Took over.
He marched the corridors of Table Tennis power
For more than fifty years.
And graced a multitude of committees with his
Presence.
As Mister NALGO, Don constructed
A glorious empire
Of countless teams
At many a venue:
Down Pasture Street,
In Weelsby, Yarra, Knoll,
Electric Club,
Saint James...
To name a few.
Amassing titles and cups
From every division
Of the Grimsby League:
A roll of honour too long to recall,
Now stretching to the horizon.
No fancy sponge, reversed rubber,
Or long-pimples for our Don.
Give him a plain old Barna bat,
Devoid of sponge, short-pimples out,
To give that ball a mighty clout.
The simple things in life
Were all he wished:
A pint of mild,
Or game of chess,
Would always go down well.
This table tennis granddad knows the score,
And takes his leisure now,
Contented as
The sun goes down.
Paul Butters
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
The Beauty Of Wisdom And Intelligence,
You are seen in the Cosmic Reality herself,
You are the female part of Christ, called Wisdom and Intelligence,
Your Cosmic Math's is a beautiful thing to behold,
That a unlearned person like me who loves sports like me who is too unlearned in the world's eyes to understand the beauty of the Math's of the Cosmic Reality herself,
So only the real genius mind's understand your true beauty in the Cosmic Reality herself,
But I was good enough at math's at college to get a 98% in a test score and student tutored a girl in class called Bev.
But Wisdom and Intelligence; you really enlightened great minds like Newton, Einstein and Hawking's?
So Wisdom and Intelligence hear my simple math's plea, I am alone and the math's of Wisdom and Intelligence say's its not right for man to be alone?
So make the one alone into two and then the two become one again?
So my math's is simple and unlearned by Wisdom and Intelligence's mathematical eyes; but its the most beautiful sum in the Cosmic Reality herself?
So Wisdom and Intelligence says I've done the math's?
I've marked your sum; I have graded your test paper A+ and gifted you a younger sister bride to be the sum of sums for all eternality,
This younger sister bride will never divide her love for you,
Because one divide into two should stay two, but by theoretical mathematician's the two become the perfect nought number of one raised to nought or zero power nought or zero is one for all eternality,
You shall always be one in body, heart, mind and soul,
You will always have Wisdom and Intelligence tutoring you about the beauty in the Math's of the Cosmic Reality herself,
But never forget to look up at the star's, nebula's and galaxies together and the two who are one see the Math's of love in each other's eyes and the math's of love in the Cosmic Reality herself.
Dec 30, 2021
Dec 30, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC
Fig Newton Vanilla Wafers
Like sand through an hourglass
The smell of Doublemint Wrigley’s
Gum that lingers in the air like
Your poltergeist hanging on a string
Chicken and dumplings
Christmas at your place
There were so many pictures and
Do you remember me anymore?
Quicksand neurons coughing up
Phlegm and congestive heart failure
Diabetic membranes hooked up to pacemakers
You’re kidneys were caustic waste bins
And you ****** yourself
Cancer Cancer
Don’t shut your eyes
***** and hypertension
Hyperventilation
My mother is crying
I’m crying
Don’t die
Please don't die
"She’s not responding"
"Somebody say something"
Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
darkness consumes all
the black night swallows our thoughts
Vomits back our fears
Shadows pollute minds
Specters of the past revive
They taunt tease and laugh
We give in so quick
Victims to our own morals
destroyed by self doubt
Quick to love others
so fast to hate ones own self
So slow to forgive
The mirror whispers
The wind curses so sweetly
The blade kisses you
It tenderly glides
Slides against ebony skin
Gaping rift remains
Scarlet life erupts
History of an empire
Contained in those veins
Osiris Horus
Pharaohs Gods ,and rulers.Kings
Contained in those veins
Isis Hathor Bast
Greats queens, protectors, healers
Contained in those veins
Garden of Eden
Cradle of our mother Earth
Contained in those veins
Newton,King,X,Parks
Men and women with Brave Hearts
Contained in those veins
Swift minds,Diamond tongues
hip-hop jazz blues rock, our sound
Contained in those veins
Firm hands,and strong arms
The power to hold the world
Contained in those veins
A deep rich opus
there is his story and hers
Contained in those veins
Our blood stains the soil
Why destroy the tapestry
Contained in those veins
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
i stand in front of the Bath,
Taking a moment to enjoy the experience before it starts.
Stream rises from the Surface,
Like butterflies over a field
of fresh spring blossoms
It hovers, seductively inviting me in with a lazy sense if urgency.
In the corner, a lone Candle flickers in the rising Steam,
Lazily shining its Light
Like a Capetonian on a lazy summers evening sipping wine under the setting sun.
The Water,
blue from the bubblebath,
Smells like an orange, ancient, triangular spire in the early dawn of Time.
The hot Water receives my body
And awakens hibernating skin
From its cold, white winter's slumber.
The curious Water
Finds its way all over my skin
In every corner it can,
It crawls into
And caresses me softly
Slowly I relax,
As Sir Isaac Newton makes my bath colder
And as my skin and water temperatures equalise
I lose all sense of self
Held afloat by the mighty Water
I gaze at the white bubbles
As they dance on my chest
Popping and merging
Reflecting light and whispering
Until I finally fall asleep in blissful relaxation.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
I am a traveller, a travelling man
And have wandered far and wide
With nothing but the flip flops on my feet
And fisherman’s trousers for a net.
And during these travails and trials I
Have heard many a tale, both tall and true,
And one day in a distant field I heard talk
Of a special cosmic law, another worldly rule of physic,
A fifth or sixth sense or dimension,
As earth-shattering as Newton’s apple.
It is...
A law of diminishing returns
Operating particularly at music festivals.
Let me explain.
So far I’ve lost,
My nice woolly zip up cardigan, half my contact lenses
My bass drum pedal, (Though that might still be in the van)
My wallet, containing money and cards, my baccy.
I lost and then refound my filters 18 times throughout the day,
Though each time they returned diminished in number,
Two packs of bacon, lost to the public stomach,
Three lighters, none of which were mine,
My mind, last night, though I found it lying
Outside my tent again in the morning sun,
And fifteen lovely strangers, who turned out to be friends.
Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 4:22 PM UTC
As I let my mind wander into time, and release these binds that have me confined, I began to feel a great energy, like the sun had been compressed and put into me, and as time tic tocs and unwinds into its trail of infinity. I realize a trinity mind body soul, they burn as a whole, for the mightiest of goals. and as time unwinds it'll leave you behind. unless you get your spot in, a line of legacys never to be forgotten
Confucius, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Nelson Mendala, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawkins, Leonardo Da Vinci, Wolfgang Amedeus Mozart, nikola tesla, Wael Ghonim, Jimi Hendrix, Joseph Stiglitz, Reed Hastings, François Rabelais, Archimedes, Sigmund Frued, Charles Darwin, Aryabhata, Bob Marley, Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Aristotle, John Locke, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Plato, Galileo Galilei...and many many more...
Stand for something. Think outside the box. Evolve and express yourself. Make a difference #STEM #LegacyToIfinity
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Newton's Law
I put it in motion moving in space
the classic mechanics with egg on it's face
it is your basic movement of virtual action
every single cause has a reaction
if you push you get pull in the inverse
back and forth forward then reverse
too many challenges can burn itself out
momentum building creating the doubt
a message was sent could not be retracted
bodies in motion over reacted
gravitational pull increases acceleration
now sitting alone no participation
will the owner of the souls ever return
or am I left out here alone to burn
should have thought sooner before releasing the arrow
she has been injured clipped the wing of the sparrow
now searching for remedies everywhere rootin'
trying to reach Sir Isaac Newton
return the bodies to orbit each other
just like before like sister and brother
Gomer LePoet....
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack,
Ye little men of little souls!
And bid them huddle at your back -
Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals!
Fill all the air with hungry wails -
"Reward us, ere we think or write!
Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails
To sate the swinish appetite!"
And, where great Plato paced serene,
Or Newton paused with wistful eye,
Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean
And Babel-clamour of the sty
Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise:
We will not rob them of their due,
Nor vex the ghosts of other days
By naming them along with you.
They sought and found undying fame:
They toiled not for reward nor thanks:
Their cheeks are hot with honest shame
For you, the modern mountebanks!
Who preach of Justice - plead with tears
That Love and Mercy should abound -
While marking with complacent ears
The moaning of some tortured hound:
Who prate of Wisdom - nay, forbear,
Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath,
Trampling, with heel that will not spare,
The vermin that beset her path!
Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms,
Ye idols of a petty clique:
Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes,
And make your penny-trumpets squeak.
Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds
Of learning from a nobler time,
And oil each other's little heads
With mutual Flattery's golden slime:
And when the topmost height ye gain,
And stand in Glory's ether clear,
And grasp the prize of all your pain -
So many hundred pounds a year -
Then let Fame's banner be unfurled!
Sing Paeans for a victory won!
Ye tapers, that would light the world,
And cast a shadow on the Sun -
Who still shall pour His rays sublime,
One crystal flood, from East to West,
When YE have burned your little time
And feebly flickered into rest!
3k
I
Fall has started.
Students pile into their desks
as teacher begins the lesson,
with 32 apple gifts in her bottom drawer.
II
Wake up in the morning.
Walk down the stairs.
Grab an apple
among the bananas and
pears.
III
Sitting under a tree, dreaming,
disturbed by a falling fruit.
The apple that knocked your head.
The apple that discovered gravity.
IV
Lovers entwined in each others’ arms.
“I love you,” says one.
“I love you more,” says the other.
“You are the apple of my eye,” says the first.
The second smiles.
V
Kids running rampant,
touch football and tag.
Trading card games while eating lunch.
Lunch? PB&J;, a banana,
and Mott’s Apple Juice.
VI
One of the largest computer companies: Apple.
The Beatles music company: Apple.
Apples are the foundation of everything.
Makes sense,
right?
VII
The Disney hotel room was tan all over.
Even my 6-year-old brain remembers that.
The green sheen of the apple skin was
more appealing than the tan, for sure.
VIII
Apples, apple juice, applesauce, apple pie,
apple cider, candied apples, Redd’s apple ale.
So many choices.
So many variations.
None quite as good as the first one listed.
IX
The red on her lips matched the fruit’s skin
as she bit down into the juicy apple.
Within minutes she was down to its core
and mine.
X
Apply applesauce to the aforementioned area.
This isn’t a game, HeadOn.
It is just alliteration.
XI
The stanzas in this poem
couldn’t be more different
than apples and oranges.
Gotcha.
XII
Mi corazón se dispara a mi garganta
cuando yo te veo. Siento mi nuez de Adán se endurece.
Tus labios, rojos como manzanas,
se ven tan dulces.
Te extraño, Red. Y, finalmente,
te amo.
XIII
This poem brought to you by:
Mott’s Apple Juice, Redd’s Apple Ale,
The Beatles’ Apple, Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak’s Apple
Sir Isaac Newton’s Apple, Adam’s Apple,
God’s apple, my apple, your apple, he/she/it apple,
It apple bit the apple.
The core of this poem, much like the core of an apple.
Seeds throughout.
This poem brought to you by:
My 15” Macbook Pro Apple laptop.
And the author, moi. From my heart. From my brain.
This poem brought to you by apples.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
A moment cuffs you in the face
like Newton's overstated apple,
and the evening dissolves
into sharp, steady resolve...
You think about the extra drink you should have drunk,
the song you should have sung
and the man whose touch y so missed...
The Muse had disappeared.
**** Muse.
Every time you try to find news you want to *****
not just a little, but expel the very core of emptiness out of you,
and you picked a fine time to stop swearing
because there is a man whose feel you have so **** missed...
The stars continue to twinkle across the Northern Sky,
oblivious to the bouncing of our big Blue Ball,
un-answering dreamful wishes;
though, there are other stars lying closer to your heart,
a fresh start and the barbells below...
And you realize
life is found in the letting go...
And the Muse reappears, smiles an aching, wondrous, Hello.
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC