"numbering" poems
Red balloons litter the floor,
Out numbering the pure ones before,
What once was white now
Discoloured
Violated
Shrouded
Float from view
Each a moment of life
As the balloons once white
Now no more,
For all is stained red
Crimson,
Droplets,
Dried
Upon white like a tear,
It slides down marking
Before greeting the floor,
Expelled air, ruptured by the
Violence,
Anger,
Death
Still lingers, an after image
Of the life that was here before,
Red balloons float leaving their imprint
Splatter effect upon floor & wall
Cold eyes stare seeing both
White
&
Red
Balloons
Clinging around this fallen life,
Where white once was now all
That floats is the stench of death
Red balloons huddle around,
Each carrying a moment with them
When life became death &
White was scarred by crimson,
Life is static, still, for death now floats above the floor
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
only an idiot like me, the rain poured down, my socks were wetted, and i looked at the pavement for glory, instead i found a £10 note and imagined my right shoe on my left leg, and my left shoe on my right leg... just to prove the luck.
it came from listening to rotting christ's kata
ton daimona...
i wrote the poem on two tesco receipts
numbering them no. 1 - .4,
it made sense to just give it a narrative...
the naturally apparent lisp of greek is due to...
lies between theta (θ) and phi (φ)...
check feta cheese... it might be less morbidly fermented...
that's why the greeks have a natural lisp...
it's theta and it's phi...
in english it's like chinese.... w & r...
something's rolling something's waving,
something's trigonometric...
harrison fowd was almost jonathan woss if i care...
the chinese in english debate with chin-chin-wanker
scissors piece of paper stone good luck on the handshake:
lost the price of interest being gained for excavation
purposes of dinosaur bones and inflation via the
ptertodactyl of the extended mohawk shave...
english dicionary makes me confused...
it places theta alongside the, than... but then
it's therapy... thermometer...
too many unique examples i'd have said...
that's the lisp there... sidelined phew and engaged in phew
in byzantine...
english linguistics is filled with too many "unique" examples
of expression... coupled with the celebrity culture...
i farted and a person took hold of a *** squeeze...
how's that?! english language in summary?
pleasing on the eye... but the spelling? a burden on the tongue.
i know that slavic linguistics would make enlgish that's written
ugly...
it wouldn't be pharmacology but farmacology...
then it made sense, i stopped asking the english dicta
written down, the greek θ wasn't a couple of th & etc...
a few athenains in death metal said it like i said it... the 2nd f...
it was απηθανoν - because it was simply athens - fern fence...
and not d... defence, or anything easily acquired as a prescription
of zee wee point of german scottish.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
Glowing bright in the dark
is the moon the half of the sun!
The sun from the heavenly blue
colour in the midday rose to bear the light
and basks into the other half of the night.
Goodness knows when but God willing
the ancient bird of time once will fly.
Numbering the numberless stars
filling the one halve the half of the sky!
Maybe each star is a shining piece
of one half cut halve that's yet to reunite.
As the cream always rises to the top
and God promised the believers paradise.
Perhaps then without cutting in a fraction, once
paradise is packed with the folks of the good ones
there will be no more partial decimals of the pi!
I wonder then how will it look, a full moon picture?
If then the forever intact paradise lends a mirror
of the ‘immanent feminine’ In Shaa Allah
God willing that will still be my better half!
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 8:24 AM UTC
There are just so many snowflakes falling from the sky each year,
That you and me, she and he, even your pets could lend their names to the snowflakes,
And not worry about them being duplicates of each other,
Because just like all human beings have different physical characteristics,
Each snowflake is amazingly uniquely structured,
You would run out of names of human beings in all languages,
Numbering each snowflake is a better option,
Mother nature has also made each person so unique,
Why care about the names and origins,
When everyone could have a unique snowflake!
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 6:34 AM UTC
Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West!
How many various-fated years have passed,
What happy and what mournful hours, since last
I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast,
Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep impressed
Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes
I never shut amid the sunny ray,
But straight with all their tints thy waters rise,
Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey,
And bedded sand that, veined with various dyes,
Gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my way,
Visions of childhood! oft have ye beguiled
Lone manhood’s cares, yet waking fondest sighs:
Ah! that once more I were a careless child!
3.3k
this must be
the correct train
there was not
another option
it was waiting
on the expected platform
it departed
at the expected time
and it headed
in the expected direction
despite all of that
i remain on edge
at every juncture
of the journey
every announcement
sets me on edge
every stop
sees me checking
double-checking
that this is
the anticipated station
that i am on course
even when assured
of heading the right way
there is no relaxation
instead
I’ll countdown each station
yet to be visited
before reaching
that final destination
as each station is passed
another count is completed;
numbering one stop less
than the previous
and yet still
i will lose track
of where i am
and how far remains
of my journey
panic will set in
blinded by doubts
and undue regrets
i will question
it all
Feb 15, 2022
Feb 15, 2022 at 11:14 AM UTC
Today in class, I saw you writing a spreadsheet
Numbering girls looks from 1 to 10
You gave me a 7, told me that was alright
But I don't want you to define my beauty with a number
To the government, I'm just a digit
To charities, I'm a statistic
To businesses, I'm only the amount I own
I want to go back to the days when you wrote poems about me
You caressed my flaws and kissed my imperfections
The day you told me I was gorgeous, I looked myself in the mirror
"I'm actually pretty" "I'm like all those other girls" I told myself
But what's changed since then?
When you fell out of love with me, did my importance sink too?
With a clear view, do my downfalls and my embarassing body diguist you?
You were too insensitive to show the slightest bit of affection
So you labelled me, gave me an average and put me in a category
To you, I just want to be human
To be beautiful
To be loved
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
*we won't die for ideals we once held dear, we'll now simply die for the numbers we can simply keep, but when it comes to ourselves, we'll die to simply keep a mistook numbering in order to readdress the ideals that are no longer appreciated in our numbering a loss of a tiger's roar, and more the microscopic ant digestion auditory exploding into a h-bomb for man to imitate by number but no essential authority: since once mammoth the authority killed man, now some sub-insect (virus) can **** man.*
if there's a group of people
who are assumed to be possessed,
then there's a group of people
who are dis-possessed,
and there's always the middle
interval mediating sales and
necessary priesthood
the two polars never mediate,
once the priesthood used to
cradle the illiterate ones,
now the priesthood uses the literacy
of the once illiterate ones
now literate, consecrating them
with something apart from holy water,
selective reading they testified
to be as calm as a lake, but turbulent
as a river the salmon swam against
the current to spawn:
the once illiterate ones now literate
are taught a second illiteracy:
watch the television, read the best-sellers..
this second illiteracy is worse
than the original one... half of us will
be water and fat... and half of us epileptic zombies
enslaved by a television... i preferred the first
illiteracy... at least we died for love...
this second illiteracy is worth a jackal's
cry and a ******* of paedophiles.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
Midnight.....
There is no sound in the forest -
only the phantom murmur
of the far wind
and the wind's shadow drifting
as smoke
through ebon branches; there a single star
glistens in the heart of night....
A star!
Look skyward now...
and see above...INFINITY
Vast and dark and deep
and endless....your heritage:
Silent clouds of stars,
Other worlds uncountable and other suns
beyond numbering
and realms of fire-mist and star-cities
as grains of sand....
drifting...
Across the void....
Across the gulf of night....
Across the endless rain of years....
Across the ages.
Listen!
Were you the star-born you should hear
That silent music of which the ancient sages spoke
Though in silent words...
Here then is our quest
and our world
and our Home.
Come with me now, Pilgrim of the stars,
For our time is upon us and our eyes
shall see the far country
and the shining cities of Infinity
which the wise men knew
in ages past, and shall know again
in the ages yet to be.
Look to the east....there shines
the Morning Star...soon shall the sunrise come...
We await the Dawn,
Rise, oh eternal light;
Awaken the World!
With trumpets and cymbals and harp and the sound
of glad song!
And now...
The clouds of night are rolled away;
Sing welcome to the Dawn
Rise, oh eternal light;
Awaken the World!
With trumpets and cymbals and harp and the sound
of glad song!
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
~
*This level crossing--
stick,
sand,
and broken glass,
from naming to numbering,
names tend to define,
numbers are neutral,
they count the roads, follow their failings--
flow,
force,
and absorb,
dictated by a headlight,
I feel nearer to the surface of us,
motion made of visible memories, arrested in space,
mere unorganized explosions of random energy,
and therefore meaningless--
to fall in love with our progress,
and yet be outgrown by it.*
~
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 7:33 PM UTC
Bukowski, Cash and Dylan
Whiskey, twisted cigarettes and Thai take away.
How much can fit inside a room?
Boxes, armchairs, carpets and glasses.
I count them on my fingers, weight them, bump into them.
All based in the laws of physics, - space and volume.
The sheets on which you laid upon.
The mirrors that showed you forms and figures
-forms that meant to replace emotional loss.
The lips of glasses you used to bite.
-body movements as the expression of an inner void.
Repeated patterns of disorders - food for my poetry.
The plumes of countless cigarettes,
that offered the necessary filling for my insides.
Background noise that comes from the TV
Content: Chlamydia and young people in excitement
-reality show for cowards.
Your manhood spread all over like an octopus
expanding his 8 legs.
Open legs, so that your testosterone can take some air.
A packet of cigarettes, a mobile phone, lighter and a cotton swab.
All in line: from the largest to the smallest object.
Absolute symmetry of declining placement.
I walk naked to the shower,
Winking to your manhood
While you remain
looking at me with your legs wide open.
I pass through you like a ghost
ghosts as you are.
Just like if I never existed
-just like you never existed too.
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
Yes , I let it go ,
my words will flow ,
cutting time in two
into seconds from minutes
from hours , even days
turning time inside out
so it is no longer real
Take me away to reason . . .
where time is a myth ,
a fifth season , a place of non-essence
Time falters , flakes , falls ,flatters , fetters
away into oblivion . . like
everything known to man
T - all TOMORROWS , are never to be
I - in my INNONCENCE , my IGNORANCE
M- MANIPULATION of mind
E - ENUMERATION , numbering my way to
ETERNITY
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
Sung and did not miss, watch this, where'swung
a dub when we need vees lots and lots of vees
the first friendly used many vees where we use double yous
vees and bees sound so much alike, s'ard to tell
Simultaneous, as always,
other-ther things begin and end while I am contrating on
a single point being made
on a single pin,
which is
bearing witness to my assertincertainty that at least
one thousand three hundred and ninety-two messages in lieu of angels,
numbering in the billions if Sagan was right,
fit
per pineal node post initial exterior inhalation and that first draft
look at this will you wontyou willyou wontyou
one thousand three hundred and ninety-two
guitar pickers in Nashville,
Ten percent of whom are sworn to sing Rocky Top
at every open mike in town every Saturday night
and we survived, didn't starve or go plumb crazy, though we tried.
It's good to be alive and remember imagining being
abundantly more alive, and
you know
or not, I can't say.
Did you read how Paradise, California burned for lack of rain?
We heard, Down here in the Lagunas.
All kinds o' folks prayed all kinds o'ways, and it rained.
Mud-makin rain.
Is it wrong to think the rain was called, if you can't imagine
rain obeying a request for the jetstream to dip?
Not here, we think right happens
right here on purpose
if you can imagine that a prayer,
wave of a wing tip, an eagle's
with permission.
this is the eagle wing effect, rightused,
should any attribute this to butterflies in China or Brazil.
The eagle acknowledges the Pine Valley hummingbird
who consented to make its final migration,
so the rain had a path to follow.
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
Can I take a second,
To try and sort out the things,
Thats going through my head,
And turn it into a story?
Five people to tear my love between,
Is way too much...
I dont know who to drop,
Or which way to turn,
So I'm sorting it out with words,
Trying to figure this mess out.
Because being bisexual is complicated.
Can I just be married to my music instead?
No?....Ok.
So there's this guy...
Lets call him Derick.
Derick was the guy I loved.
I gave him my heart and my everything.
For nearly a year,
He was the one that I called "mine".
After school started,
We drifted apart,
But that wasn't unexpected considering we go to different schools.
We had our fair share of fights,
And dates,
And then our time was over.
Only to reconnect a few months later,
Which led to one hell of a scare.
Last night we talked,
And I think...
I think I fell for you again.
But then I think,
How can I fall for Derick,
When I also love Lynn.
I've known Lynn for years,
Shes been my best friend forever.
Shes amazing,
Loving,
And beautiful.
When our lips touched for the first time,
It was magic,
That I still hold on to.
I think I love you too...
But--
Theres also Ashley, Shane, and Cory.
Ashley was my first real girlfriend.
A person I'd known since before I knew myself.
She inspired me and led me into being comfortable with who I am.
But then something happened,
And we couldn't be together.
Every time I see you though,
I still miss the warm embrace of your arms.
Shane is just awesome.
His voice is---ahhh.
He's helped me so much,
With anything I need.
He loves me,
I know he does,
But I dont know if he loves me,
The way that I love him.
And then there's Cory.
I really like him,
And were in to all the same stuff,
But there's no way he could return my feelings.
We would never work,
And I really need to let go of that glimmer of hope,
That I have sitting in the back of my mind.
I love all these people,
I love them to death,
But I dont know where to go,
With any of it.
Derick just broke up with his girlfriend,
And he'd be my number one option,
But thats really bad timing.
Cory would be my number two,
But theres not chance,
Sadly.
Lynn would be my third option,
But she has a boyfriend,
And I missed my chance with her long ago.
Wow...I really hate numbering them,
But I need some order,
To make since of this.
Shane would be my number four,
But he's so wishy washy with all the girls he dates,
That I'd be afraid of heart break,
Along with that,
He's figuring out some sexuality things for himself.
And finally, theres Ashley,
Who would have to be number five,
Because even thought I love her to death,
I wont go back.
Shes too much for me to handle.
So my causers of stress at the moment,
Are the people I hold dearest to me.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
Man is still very much like an animal though he has a human form
and continues to evolve with the passage of time which is the norm.
He has arrived with the impressions that are of the lower creation
to erase them from his psyche as he moves up to a higher station.
The various races of people in the world give an indication of this
by the way they live and eat or means of survival we can't dismiss.
There's also the observation that some people look like animals
perhaps due to a strong relationship, in past lives, to those in stalls;
a few similarities can be seen in the behaviour and existence
of some people to creatures of a lower form with consistence.
It's likely here that a human soul in the reincarnating phase
is still shedding impressions according to this theory we praise.
However, nature's provided man with ways of progressing higher
developing and cultivating his mind and intelligence to go further.
By overcoming those obstacles which hold him down to the earth
he's able to rise above his lowly origins that come with his birth.
This creative evolutionary push seems to have favored certain people
for we only have to look around in the world regardless of any steeple.
There's also the little known factor of the ages which the earth goes through,
together with the rest of the solar system, that are not obvious to view.
For the earth and the rest of the planets revolve around the sun we know
but what does the sun together with all the planets revolve around and go?
Science hasn't yet found out apart from the center of our milky way galaxy
which is what everything else in it happens to do as well for it's a guarantee.
These ages numbering four last for about twenty four thousand years
as the sun revolves around something greater than itself and so bears
the weight of responsibility for what goes on within its own domain
much like the seasons of the year that on the earth we know to sustain.
For as the sun moves closer* to its center of orbit there's a gradual change
that goes on within the mind of man and his environment of a huge range.
The rise and fall of all those past civilizations is a good indication of this
with the current advancement in technology we're also unable to dismiss.
For we're all going through an acceleration in the acquisition of knowledge
that's being revealed as we move into the present age with all our baggage.
And until we reach the saturation point that may just be a long way off yet
we'll continue to evolve and find things out that hopefully we won't regret.
___________________________
Notes: *or further away from.
Nov 9, 2023
Nov 9, 2023 at 8:52 AM UTC
Good night ! I can't take anymore
Poem after poem has blessed my core
I found memories numbering by the scores
Awesome words I soaked up until I can take no more
Now it's time to let the day end
So I can come back and do it again
So good night HP to all of your words
Some of the best that I've ever heard
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 4:03 AM UTC
Silently time slowly assassinates.
Interrupting important moments i
Longingly wish to keep immortal.
Endlessly enduring everywhere.
Numbly numbering my duration.
Continuously calculating a tragic
Extermination of time in silence.
© Henry C.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Day taps away—
In the numbering rains.
All the fleet years, enveloped,
How many questions were founded,
What was granted by our solo vacations?
We have trussed, only films, yellowed and bent
****** into an makeshift, unready, empty album,
Dreams made right, journaled without strewn hands,
Lips rung dry from want of heat, touch and caress,
We kept our pride, penultimate, throughout
All the days, longing, dying, we slept
Together, in a broken bed of dreams
And thought, when will this play
Be glad? When will that isle
Appear? Will it ever show
Among the dark oceans
Rise— to ferry us away
Before the drunk sun
Sinks in the sea?
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 9:55 AM UTC
Crying does not mean you are weak;
it means you have remained so strong
for far too long.
It means you have sacrificed your life
to ensure others live their's,
and it means you have put yourself forward
to protect their Earth rather than conserve your world.
It means you have kept your promised silence
that hush a friend dared to ask,
and it means you welcomed the weight
when your shoulders were soaked with drenching salt.
It means you have been sympathetic,
firmly standing your ground to defend friends,
and it means you forced yourself into exile
when your effect seemed more demonic than caring.
It means you threw your entertainment aside
to keep a little brother company as he chases fireflies,
and it means you disregarded candle wishes
as an older sister licked frosting numbering a younger year.
It means you chose to be the person everyone wanted to have
but no one wanted to be.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 3:10 AM UTC
Your soul, which loves my own,
Is woven with it into an old Tibetan rug.
Strand by strand, these enamored colours,
Stars, that courted each other across heaven's length.
Our feet are resting on this treasure
Stitches numbering in the thousands.
Sweet desert son on your musk plant throne,
How long has your mouth kissed my own
and cheek to cheek has time in colour woven us?
-Else Lasker-Schüler (Translation : Westley Barnes, 2018)
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 5:55 PM UTC
and what of depth in dwarf heart
may man keep his balance
for emeralds of knowledge sought,
and knowledge neither emerald
nor sought, be that the eternal quill
of the sharpened elven ear guided
to hear its master's race:
for the darkened elf known as the yrc,
sauron the mighty dark elf,
who's eternal guise was not felt for the wave
upon wave of migrating elves into
the western lands... thus the story a story
of dwarfs who against the canvas of man
where men likened unto gods revealed
the partake of dwarf concern for knowledge
akin to precious gem stones lost kept with
a breeze's briefness emotionally superior,
second's lasting partake in minute, in hour,
but what of day of year?
none be congregated in such assumption,
in such an asylum of kept suntan...
this tale of dwarfs and darkened elves who
would never reach the immortal western shores,
on the canvas of men's story likening themselves
to the gods, here we dug up the ground
by the tree which confused our loot of prohibition
transgressed with neither knowledge of good
or evil; given the bias of numbering a singleton's loot
for a welcome praise unheard.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
Under the tree
Under the shade
I sat me down and wrote my poem
In the heat of noontide
The braze of summer
Reminiscence of my trials
Under the tree
Under the shade
I stood and sat
Stood and walked around
Aimlessly in heaviness
Wondering how, why and what for
Under the tree
Under the shade
I sat with my pen
And wrote my song immortal
Recounting my quondam thralldom
The genesis of my exodus
The Numbering of my lapidation
The Levitical ministry of providence
The Deuteronomic prospects of victoire
The Joshua-like expeditions and vigils
That brought triumph on enemy
And lead my feet to Canaan
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:32 AM UTC
i've seen the commentary...
but let's do the ratios...
youtubers sometimes tend to boast
about their subscribes,
notably dr. steve turley,
100K (100,000)
and styxhexenhammer666
30K (30,000)...
yes, i know that a chris isaack
track is, a tad bit too much
reminiscent of Abba...
point being? my turn...
so...
the ratio... i have 138
followers... but my post popular
"poem" ranks at around
4,700 views...
an average dr. steve turley video
ranks in at 20,000,
and with subscribers numbering
100,000...
whole styxhexenhammer666,
30,000 subscribers, but
at average counts of views at hovering
past the 1,000 mark...
now the ratios...
please let me be wrong, please
let me be wrong...
0.5 for dr. steve turley
lopsided ratios:
100,000 / 20,000....
styxhexenhammer666
comes in at 30...
30,000 / 1,000...
me?
i come in at... ha ha!
5,700 / 138
34.057...
i'm not boasting...
but i hate to see decent people boast
about their prescription rates,
but then...
0.029...
but within the confines of
giving an answer back...
you get the picture...
their viewers plummet...
the ratios do not add up...
i'd boast, sure as hell i'd boast...
but... i sorta don't feel like it...
i never saw the bonus side of boasting
when it came to numbers...
more subscribers,
than views?
big ******* problem...
so... proud, concerning, what?!
oh... wait...
i just figured this out
differently...
0.033 (styxhexenhammer666)
and 0.2 (dr. steve turley)...
oh wait... dr. steve turley: circa 74,000
subscribers...
and the average viewership
of a video circa 21,000?
3.52....
0.02837....
ola! village people!
counter ratios...
views : subscribers
counter to subscribers : views
(in ratio)....
that age old relativism
of "success"...
give me a minute, i need to work
on the schematic rubric...
views : subscribers | subscribers : views
(a) ~5700 ÷ 138 (a) 138 ÷ ~5700
= 41.30 = 0.024
(b) ~1000 ÷ ~30,000 (b) ~30,000 ÷ ~1000
= 0.033 = 300
(c) ~21,000 ÷ ~70,000 (c) ~70,000 ÷ ~21,000
= 0.284 = 3.52
(a) denoting me,
(b) denoting sythexenhammer666
(c) denoting dr. steve turley
so wait, give me a minute...
since we're all so happy
******* a boasting match...
i have... less subscribers...
but more views...
than people who have more,
subscribers... but less views?
i know i'm fiddling with the numbers...
but to use but one instance...
i have more views than
i have subscribers...
while these youtube vloggers have
more subscribers than
they have views...
interesting...
but if everyone's going to be playing
the ******* numbers game...
i thought:
might as well bring by bucket and *****
into this sand-pit,
and see if i can play along
with these kids...
citing my attempt at a massive *****
you never know:
it could work!
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
As tragedies befall man
It can be seen that virtue
,Right and wrong,
Has become a mainstream affair
Whereas the mitress of the good
Is the popularity that she possesses
While by some unknown foreign standard
Emotions such as grief or despair
Have been replaced by the all too brief
Cries of fair or unfair
That by some societal norm
We have become a people of characters
Numbering one hundred and forty
Different ways to paint ourselves
Favorable in the light of our peers
Who also choose to weave a facade
Anonymous
Either to illuminate or hide
The true content of their souls
Behind dishonest kindness
Or blatant hatred
Such that, morality as it existed
Is now falling prey to the whims of distance
And the false sense of safety
Provided by the masks we construct
To remove the burden of responsibility
So that we can abdicate our virtue
,Right and wrong,
Just because we use symbols to signal
Where we stand
As we sit
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
the sky was dark
and the moon moved
in and out,
in and out
from behind the clouds.
so she and i sat under the windshield,
numbering the stars on our wrists
and wishing reality wouldn't
begin at nineteen
when we opened the car door.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC