"nullification" poems
[From Fragments, The Following...]
... so it was that the Urth bled less. The Birch Moot was becalmed by the Anvil Cloud of Impending Deluge.
The Young Gods made sport of Their Names, and aimed to Oblique the colony of clever flesh
groping at the tender roots of an insipid devastation. The First Ones had vanished.
But Time was born and the Mortal Whirl released the Hounds of Change. Transition fused -
with the Eternal; and the offspring of unloved Spirits, roamed the Tangible. All Suffering was amplified
in the diamond lungs of a divine corpse, dreaming.
... for when the iron heart of The Cast Out was retrieved, the Legion of Heaven poured unseemly Grace upon the Fathoms
and the High King of Doubt, forced his blade ' Nimue '
into the soft palette, of the First Mouth. The Stars were born and The Void overheard the First Naming.
A solid drizzle of enchantment cloaked the oaken Yggdrasil
and The Pattern unleashed the folly of Pattern
to mask the virtue of succinct Chaos. The Children of The Lower Sky ate their Masters and thereby swollen -
gathered in the underbrush of the Fecund.
They came to Know Regret by Answering Prayers. The Kingdoms of Wane were waning in the fearsome riot of Creation
and not a boy, a man from no woman
and no woman
a man.
... the siege lights of the petty stars, babbled in the wake of yawning eruption and nullification. the ****** theater of blood
was made Holy by way of forcing camels into eyes of needles in constant dystopian joy.
... and that's how the rain gets in.
[ From the ' Kingdoms Of Wane ', a Lost Tome from Antiquity and Dada ]
What ?
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
aesthetic is etiquette
is:
what is & isn't
either:
yet is both: in that they
are the same:
disparaging meanings...
nouns: the source
of ultimate meaning,
crux words...
and the source of
the thesaurus...
i wasn't looking
for a mathematical
conflation of grammar
either...
but...
aesthetic ≠ etiquette...
but...
it does! to keep up
with the formality
of norm, of power,
then
(the)
aesthetic = (the) etiquette,
but there is no "the"
to begin with...
yet...
if the aesthetic ≠ the etiquette...
why, either?!
dumb questions usually
prescribe
a continued willing
to perpetuate:
unquestioned...
hence the dumb questions...
my dumb question
lacks any elaborate ploy
to topple the status quo
for the sole reason that...
my alternative
matches
no genius of the originator
basis...
wordings are not
simply chanced to
be worth debating
a miscarriage
of implementing
the averted coin-flip...
(funny, how the articles
prop up,
miraculously)...
etiquette?
a macabre variety
of aesthetic...
nothing more...
but... etiquette is
still subordinate of
aesthetic...
isn't it?
hardly:
etiquette is still
subordinate off
aesthetic...
is it?!
a month spent
in a monastery of a novel...
cradle these words
unto a course
of nullification...
if i'd utter them in
a clutter of sparrows:
i'd be a equivalent to a mute
stone...
if i'd utter them in
a lion's harem:
i'd be a cat's meow (if not less)...
if i'd utter them in
the crow's shamanism
of all shadows...
i'd still be less
the croaking hark
of a voice that
might dictate: obey...
so...
so...
ah...
was kommen:
was ist...
und alles was:
ich, ich sterben...
ich war geboren?
ich war
nie sein: geboren....
ich war sein: sterben!
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
dear immoral,
salt
seed of
s
la
ughter
enticingly, affably, salt
compassionate psychic stimulates
the pigheaded exclamation
compassionate osculation stands
glove
gives callously
equally, nonetheless, equally
quarrelsome loving glove
a persnickety longshoreman
each persnickety biochemistry
is the
longshoreman cancerous?
A ambiguous certification
a stupid symphony
leads a wizardry
a road worker.
No content,
j
us
t web,
you
r bright face
is suffered with an imagery.
Bridge operator:
agile
computation
today, randomly ordinarily
ah! A
trembling
je
we
ler
confidant loves increasingly
languidly, sociably, spontaneously
Look! A poor ***********
perpetual on my
quick
bible;
my psychotherapy roves
into a
bleeding seashore.
Oxygen
tickles beautifully
boisterous, antisocial, odorous
Look! A quivering predisposition
the
psychoanalysis's
preferably quick
psych
otherapy-
how
ebbing it is!
It has the the depression snowed ordinarily.
It repels the grin into the seashore
a
punishing scream.
Cataclysm predicts perfectly
stupidly sensually noncommittal
unchanging rambling cataclysm
in t
he
unharnessing camaraderie
a perfect board
overshadows
his youth
so
that it is contemporary
grin
quick psychotherapies
I repel quick
this punishing kennel.
The chore
into appreciated camaraderies
psychotherapies rove in it.
A ink stick:
into appreciated ca
mar
aderies
psychotherapies rove in
my own gossip.
Dogmatic, unrealistic cliff
grip
of firefly
realistically, subtly, cliff
Situationist
on my quick bible;
my paralysis roves
onto a crazy seashore.
Situationist on a
journey;
my
paralysis ambles
onto a
crazy hotel.
A equality
onto procreation kings
paralys
is
amble outside of the kings.
Buzzard: omnipotent nullification
extraordinarily, perfectly, saintly
that buzzard is ambitious
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
These words are not for reading.
Not for singing, not for shouting.
Not for saying, not for whispering.
These words are only for meaning.
After all, solving for x
Should always equal y,
And without such instances
Of equilibrium there can be no variance.
The scale must balance
Or the dragon will tip,
And tipsy dragons with their *****
Breath, perpetually drunk off their
Own fumes hunt –
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, TOCK
Out of rhythm -- as appears to be the style--
Or-not-style-or-maybe-style-is-out-of-style.
Oh Bill, what have we become?
These roses have no names!
And their smell is ****
Emo – Elmo **** – with no hope for redemption.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 11:50 PM UTC
I didn’t know how to begin
this one, in it there was too
much and too
much
crashing together,
made me believe there had
been an explosive
nullification of this, really
this just crept
closer, too close and
too closer underneath
whose jutting nose
is nowhere.
What are you looking at?
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
Auburn introversion
Will by its arm hold on
Stationary sanction
A constant fissure line
Coming insurrection
Feathered scavengers intrude
For complete cessation
Between the vein and valve
Cutlass complication
Devised the elements
Defiled justification
Wilt into a hardened blame
Fuller indentation
Wreak an engulfed compliance
Its gestation
A bitter control
Chipping fortification
Nails its own mimic
Boweled duplication
Inflicts compounding mirrors
Slowed decimation
From flesh unwilling
Adorn fancification
A scream its teeth
Separation
Impending with haste
The nullification
By removing all proof
Divination
Demand nothing less
By holy vindication
Come clean and silenced
One simplification
As fall essence from claw
Heavy by degradation
Left behind lessons
A home desperation
Cleansed opened to breathe
Now that implication
Is taken in the wind
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
emancipated, sunken, lost in the fog.
I am in love with an eternal concluder.
no, sorry,
I only love the fact that you took that imposter from this world, it is disturbing that he would even try to impersonate my papa.
cheery, rosy tinted memories, shifted bleak.
you embody total contentment through such a simple life. you are a true treasure, that is now swallowed in the mist of time.
once these remarkable things became shadowed by the empty desolate version of yourself i decided i was in love in with deaths act of nullification, to clear off the gunk that tainted my papa's clean soul.
I love that you put an end to a fraud who tried to make my papa look so far from himself.
I love you, yourself, my papa. before the shadows. before the fog.
-Raymond Pendergast 2018-
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
Monotonous subject matter
Am I truly talented
If I mainly write from pain?
Passion inspires talent
And emotions fuel passion
So the product of my passion
Should be fire
But I feel the heat leaving
And now I'm cold
Frost bitten by the stares and blank looks
When I've finished reading
Or they've closed my book
Can't they see my blood through the ink?
Isn't it an obvious cry for understanding?
Why do I even crave to be understood
I should just be satisfied with being heard
But just because you hear me
Doesn't mean you feel me
And if you don't feel me
How can you begin to understand
The complexity within
So much of my life has been spent shunning my emotions and passions
That now that I've accepted
And embraced,
I'm eager for you to as well
Excuse my enthusiasm because
Every moment not understood and embraced
Feels like my existence is diminishing
And worse than rejection
Is complacency
in the face of nullification
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
What a fool I was
To let my heart play
The game of love
Mounting stress day by day
The winter chill freezes my resolve
Dousing the heated summer lust
Time sulks slower than ever
Replenishing glaciated rotten dust.
Incubus shield blocking the warmth out
Of the rays of light the sun bounces about
Winter's sickles stifling every route
Letting the tears while crying my heart out.
All for all with nullification for me.
It's getting harder to breath, harder to see.
My lonely soul cries for love you see
It's now in the game of love
Existing with a condemning glee
Frozen inside are the tears but wait,
A warmth may lift me to the light
And breathe the cooling breeze of life
Thus rescuing me from this frozen blight.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 10:24 PM UTC
The beginning of any beginning...
the end of any end...
come from the same Meditation.
They are just two thoughts
insisting the nullification
of the other.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
There's even a place for
light to hide--
where the speed of its year
goes to stop seeing.
To sleep the silence of a
different kind of clarity.
The center of a record fixed
to a point of no return, as
was on eternal play.
Now playing the first as last
note, every song's ghost.
Perfect circles drained
through one another...
sentience chasing itself.
Highest high, lowest low--
experienced simultaneously,
then cut off at peak intensity.
A sound that sighs the passion
of extinction--a whole wholly
consumed.
To equal the nullification of
lesser and greater degrees.
The richest black ever unseen--
colored by what tried to get
out of G*d's sight.
Where angels fall, and stagger
off--having been strip-searched
by Truth...enough.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC