"nulls" poems - Hello Poetry

1673 Nature can do no more She has fulfilled her Dyes Whatever Flower fail to come Of other Summer days Her crescent reimburse If other Summers be Nature’s imposing negative Nulls opportunity—

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Emily Dickinson

Nature can do no more

1673 Nature can do no more She has fulfilled her Dyes Whatever Flower fail to come Of other Summer days Her crescent reimburse If other Summers be Nature’s imposing negative Nulls opportunity—

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Refuge from reality Neverland's necessity Chasing the whims of Shadow Crowing at the moon's sad glow Freedom from monotony A childhood philosophy Perseveres in light of fears Long adheres in spite of years Flee the world of decision Distance mistake's incision A brash heart's circumcision Nulls care of peer's derision. "You gotta let go and crow!"

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Mar 23, 2010

Mar 23, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC

charles-berlin

Neverland

Refuge from reality Neverland's necessity Chasing the whims of Shadow Crowing at the moon's sad glow Freedom from monotony A childhood philosophy Perseveres in light of fears Long adheres in spite of years Flee the world of decision Distance mistake's incision A brash heart's circumcision Nulls care of peer's derision. "You gotta let go and crow!"

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To become one with all, one must lose their **** their wallet, their mind, their car keys you must lose your sense of time and space so that it all becomes a dream and you can't decipher up from left or hot from green and you just sit (or fall?) until you fail and wail and bump against the grind stone 'til your skin errodes, revealing muscle, which is weak when peeled away, to reveal bone, ground into flour for the cupcakes and bread et al. Let their be fights, and strife and lice and barium because to accept all you must love the disgusting, the heinous, and is that what you want? To accept all means to accept close mindedness, and chosen blindedness, evils, weevils, steel easels, do you really want that? Yes. Yes you do, if you want to become one with all. I just want to forget the nulls and nuisances and sleep in peace and riot.

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May 21, 2012

May 21, 2012 at 4:37 PM UTC

matalie-niller

Proficiency

To become one with all, one must lose their **** their wallet, their mind, their car keys you must lose your sense of time and space so that it all becomes a dream and you can't decipher up from left or hot from green and you just sit (or fall?) until you fail and wail and bump against the grind stone 'til your skin errodes, revealing muscle, which is weak when peeled away, to reveal bone, ground into flour for the cupcakes and bread et al. Let their be fights, and strife and lice and barium because to accept all you must love the disgusting, the heinous, and is that what you want? To accept all means to accept close mindedness, and chosen blindedness, evils, weevils, steel easels, do you really want that? Yes. Yes you do, if you want to become one with all. I just want to forget the nulls and nuisances and sleep in peace and riot.

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Why are others mouths inclined to draw the pictures I try to scribble out that form inside my mind? A worthless, spineless creature- almost serpentine, wriggling on its belly baring cyanic, lachrymal eyes. I want to squirm from this Stygian tomb, disenthrall my thoughts from the shadows swimming with me inside this amniotic pool. I'm just a worthless fetus, a crumbling parasite and perhaps it becomes more obvious when I try to keep it out of sight, like a stench you try to hide; Dulcify decomposition with a rain of fragrant petals and slowly you'll come to find that magnolias smell of death, I can taste it slightly on my breath and it whets their appetite, the demons that stink of ammonia that gather every night orchestrating their symposia, their bellies full of laughter and drink while I'm full of minacious, eternal thoughts that writhe through plumbless wrinkles and ichor, questioning motivation and what it is I fight for. I can never find the right answers... My tongue won't grasp the words, they just slip back into their couthy throat where they can't be ignored; Left to die upon the shore, as fuscous waves that stain sand with rejection crash against my shattered form. My hands crack trying to flip the hourglass back and my eyes are constantly attacked by depression's thalassic pulchritude, a multitude of pains swaying to and fro in veins, begging for escape but trying to stay encased. Life nulls and denudes, my aptitude for feeling- my natural ability to hold things close without unreeling heartstrings. Keep reading, there'll be no eucatastrophe just endless pages of pointless animosity and tragedies accompanied by laugh tracks, everyone loves a jester with a proper act and I act a proper klutz futzing around with letters and spelling, trying to ensorcell any being to find my misery compelling. -SLuR

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Feb 27, 2018

Feb 27, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC

slur-pee

What's wrong with me?

Why are others mouths inclined to draw the pictures I try to scribble out that form inside my mind? A worthless, spineless creature- almost serpentine, wriggling on its belly baring cyanic, lachrymal eyes. I want to squirm from this Stygian tomb, disenthrall my thoughts from the shadows swimming with me inside this amniotic pool. I'm just a worthless fetus, a crumbling parasite and perhaps it becomes more obvious when I try to keep it out of sight, like a stench you try to hide; Dulcify decomposition with a rain of fragrant petals and slowly you'll come to find that magnolias smell of death, I can taste it slightly on my breath and it whets their appetite, the demons that stink of ammonia that gather every night orchestrating their symposia, their bellies full of laughter and drink while I'm full of minacious, eternal thoughts that writhe through plumbless wrinkles and ichor, questioning motivation and what it is I fight for. I can never find the right answers... My tongue won't grasp the words, they just slip back into their couthy throat where they can't be ignored; Left to die upon the shore, as fuscous waves that stain sand with rejection crash against my shattered form. My hands crack trying to flip the hourglass back and my eyes are constantly attacked by depression's thalassic pulchritude, a multitude of pains swaying to and fro in veins, begging for escape but trying to stay encased. Life nulls and denudes, my aptitude for feeling- my natural ability to hold things close without unreeling heartstrings. Keep reading, there'll be no eucatastrophe just endless pages of pointless animosity and tragedies accompanied by laugh tracks, everyone loves a jester with a proper act and I act a proper klutz futzing around with letters and spelling, trying to ensorcell any being to find my misery compelling. -SLuR

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The spoilt demons coil out the merriment which I feel inside my heart to rid off their vibes which lead them towards insecurities. They just want their needs to be served and cravings to be fulfilled. They have a virtual dissent from my claim that I own them. They think they are inherently independent and will always remain. Their coherent behavior has made me remember the words of those royalties which used to persuade me about the existence of these demons and I used to seize those remarks and then try so hard to make them slip away like a gushing sand so I could make an excuse that they were non-existent. Those royalties were brimmed with a longitude of wisdom and a latitude of experience. I still feel the vibes of those affliction which these demons send towards my way so I might get mutilated through them. But, they fail each time. After collapsing from a great height of my courage, they just enclose themselves in a prairie of desolation. I abduct them in the cage of my valor and ask them about their endeavors which they have channelized to make me their captive. I ask them about the further strategies of crushing me down. Their weak laughter spills out everything whatever they yearn to utter but then those utterance is roped by the pull of tongue and these ****** black holes become silent and remain in an unanswered state forever. I plunged deep into my perplexities and found my answers myself. Those answers didn't dazzle because I guess my introspection triumphed this time. Those answers came up with a ****** of agonies and a drummer of torments. The only thing which was in scarce was the tumultuous droughts of wisdom which nulls out the ferocious waves of experience. I couldn't do anything except closing my eyes and going with the flow. Alas! I could destroy those ****** dark holes forever. They still can transform into various ways because they are 'independent' demons. Let counterattack their modes of transmission so they can get dependent on me. But, wait, what if I invited them myself through my vengeance and rage..Then, they will have a right to maintain an usurp ********** on me and I would be devastated. Lets just go with the flow and enjoy the perks of Dementia ——forgetfulness.

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May 10, 2015

May 10, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC

fizza-abbas

Degenerative Rufflings

The spoilt demons coil out the merriment which I feel inside my heart to rid off their vibes which lead them towards insecurities. They just want their needs to be served and cravings to be fulfilled. They have a virtual dissent from my claim that I own them. They think they are inherently independent and will always remain. Their coherent behavior has made me remember the words of those royalties which used to persuade me about the existence of these demons and I used to seize those remarks and then try so hard to make them slip away like a gushing sand so I could make an excuse that they were non-existent. Those royalties were brimmed with a longitude of wisdom and a latitude of experience. I still feel the vibes of those affliction which these demons send towards my way so I might get mutilated through them. But, they fail each time. After collapsing from a great height of my courage, they just enclose themselves in a prairie of desolation. I abduct them in the cage of my valor and ask them about their endeavors which they have channelized to make me their captive. I ask them about the further strategies of crushing me down. Their weak laughter spills out everything whatever they yearn to utter but then those utterance is roped by the pull of tongue and these ****** black holes become silent and remain in an unanswered state forever. I plunged deep into my perplexities and found my answers myself. Those answers didn't dazzle because I guess my introspection triumphed this time. Those answers came up with a ****** of agonies and a drummer of torments. The only thing which was in scarce was the tumultuous droughts of wisdom which nulls out the ferocious waves of experience. I couldn't do anything except closing my eyes and going with the flow. Alas! I could destroy those ****** dark holes forever. They still can transform into various ways because they are 'independent' demons. Let counterattack their modes of transmission so they can get dependent on me. But, wait, what if I invited them myself through my vengeance and rage..Then, they will have a right to maintain an usurp ********** on me and I would be devastated. Lets just go with the flow and enjoy the perks of Dementia ——forgetfulness.

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I think expiditionary to avoid Expiration I whirl in the capacity of not getting Nulls I incur myself in the situation just As a card joker I shove my imaginations furiously In a shovel Hey! In me! Are you okay? Thinking of slaying? I smell doom coming my way I sense gloom crawling like cray My p's and q's undermined Hey! In me! I QUIT!

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Feb 11, 2017

Feb 11, 2017 at 11:10 PM UTC

al-farouk

I QUIT!

I think expiditionary to avoid Expiration I whirl in the capacity of not getting Nulls I incur myself in the situation just As a card joker I shove my imaginations furiously In a shovel Hey! In me! Are you okay? Thinking of slaying? I smell doom coming my way I sense gloom crawling like cray My p's and q's undermined Hey! In me! I QUIT!

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How it would be if I meet you again as a complete stranger ? I would never talked about LOVE, I would never indulge you in my feelings I would rewrite my story just including me, I would never have you in my dreams,. The feeling of strangers is good, No voids and No nulls. . ~preethi.

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May 30, 2022

May 30, 2022 at 8:35 AM UTC

Preethi

No nulls no voids

How it would be if I meet you again as a complete stranger ? I would never talked about LOVE, I would never indulge you in my feelings I would rewrite my story just including me, I would never have you in my dreams,. The feeling of strangers is good, No voids and No nulls. . ~preethi.

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