"numeric" poems
PIZZA vs. SUSHI Breaking off course:
Arrival set: 1515-2212
Log... On set for 1515-2212 but with a short delay for minor star drive repair..
" Lizor Why did you lie on the log that we needed to do engine repair.. The star drive is at perfect balance!? " Soler have you ever been to the human planet Teres (Earth) .. We have to stop an retrieve something that will send you're sensory buds past Rapatolian Rapture! And what might that be!? First thing is first.. Punch in these Teres numeric values into the wave length.. 830-583-9864! " Thank you for calling Pizza hut how can we help you!? " Yes we would like a large pepperoni pie and a large Extra Italian Sausage pie.." Dine in or delivery? Delivery will be fine.. Please just leave it at this address.. Ok that will be $22.82 It will be ready in 20 minutes.. Replicate 22 Teres American dollars and 82 hard cents and a 10 dollar tip..
"Behold Soler.. This is Teres Pizza.. take a bite! Everytime I am near Teres I stop to get a pie! By Rapatolian this is by far the best sensory my 4 tongues have ever gathered!
"Next time we will try the sushi! No next time we will get 12 pies instead.. I do not think they can make anything to match such rapatolian rapture.. What is sushi anyway!? Who cares! Set course back for home..
PIZZA=COSMIC TASTE!!
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
It feels like having a nightmare
It must be the sweetest daydream
But then, it turns to be a failure,
in the top of the balance beam.
Staying up all night with not so easy stuff
Being with that electric numeric thing without sleeping
Being crazy analyzing
There are loads of question marks everyday in my head.
This is maybe not for me
HE cut me down so I can see
It's not facing an avenue of broken dreams
There is just a time not to hold.
I'm falling but it doesn't mean I will stop trying.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
There I stood
In a long hallway
Stretching thinly
To a lit point
Lined with doors
Opening as they closed
Its prisms transposing
Euphoria as it shone
Lifting my chest
It dragged me breathless
Down its stretches
As I was reflected
In my own projections
Of sentients
Until innocence
Was all there is
And that is
Where thoughtless
Narrative lives
Where languidly it gives
Wordlessness meaning
And that is
Where fraughtless
Intentions can win
Acting replacing thinking
Incentive in Zen
Awaking and thinking again
Was is and gonna be
Everything I believe
Even while deceived
In sets of themes
Numeric categories
And the tragic stories
Of grander things
Things of grandeurous dreams
That I wring out in the sink
While winking
The well wishes away
In splashes
Of graying
Paint
My hate
Is displayed
In the mourning
Of Mondays
And with relatable monotony
And some mundane
Everything goes back to the same
Or at least
That's the philosophy
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
Fibre optic cables,
clipped conversations,
partial strangers,
networked communications,
keyboard ambiance,
anxious remonstrations,
system failures,
nicotine meditations
smudging frames,
hierarchical mediation,
computerised bleeps,
opaque mechanisations,
brightening windows,
verbose inflections,
silks ties,
limited reverberations,
exaggerated flirtation,
bowel eliminations,
pointless days,
power imitations,
numeric values.
insurmountable situations,
digital bleeds
eventual discontinuation
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
just as delicate as piano keys making music
the black plastic tickles
the whites embossed
something lit up like Christmas trees
joyous in their duties
the keyboard strokes dictate
what our fingers cannot do
we are trapped in this entourage
sending, receiving, erasing data
flows like -like little lava streams
racing faster with two fingered urgency
such novel
ideas written in word-processed perfection
poems of technological wonders
endless streams
collecting into rivers of words
until at least the verbal sea
explodes reason to this keyboard
of entries alpha-numeric
patient progress.
Who is watching us as we work?
Author Notes
simple object-technological gateway.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
lovers are red
oceans are blue
i love the waters
and they love me too
the neatness of fire
the warmth of the you
the simple equations
i work out for you
the angel numeric
may fit in my stride
this kid in your presence
is hopscotching wide
this naif out of training
has nothing to do
but write little sillies
that may be for you
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 2:47 PM UTC
“No, I said the song was stuck in my head”.
Well, maybe your just trapped in an entire melody.
Chained to a wall of harmonics.
Pinned to the floor by the tetra-chord.
Sequenced and submissioned in a pool of Lonian Mode and Aeolian Mode notes.
Your brain corresponds to a numeric ratio responding the principal intervals of a scale.
Hail to the symphony, to the orchestra.
Give your all to Pythagoras, the Greek philosopher of such discovery.
This ongoing evolution of stringed instruments and major and minor scales, forms, interprets, co-exists with one another, forever.
If you were to associate yourself to the modern tunings of ancients temperament, you’ll see that just because they have ultimately derived, does not mean that they have all died.
The song you are stuck in reaches way back in time, when world knew no hymn.
Any song is a reminder of a world that once was dim.
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 1:26 AM UTC
With the Hebrew letters of MEM,
VAV, LAMED and SHIN, one finds
an inner meaning overlooked by
most people; it also condemns
those who are following Satan.
Although its primary influence
is a declaration of serenity
and peace, souls may be shaken-
as they learn about the prayer’s
prophetic nature; its numeric and
pictographic language contributes
another, sizable spiritual layer
to its foundational definition.
At its core, it translates to:
“Destroy all authority connected
with any chaos and confusion.”
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
They publicize Education with promise of security. Falsifying all your leizure and reward.
Yet,
While you drown your accounts with tallies and numeric rallies they develop the technology to summarize, tax, bill you with your debt and fill your mold in the position you strained and craved for.
Broken and stacked back rattling
You stand on a pile of panic and,
Manicly fade into the grave they plotted, and you dug.
Technology is our downfall.
We see the button and push it
Free of refrain.
Curious, instantaneous passionate trust in all the oncoming waves of silicone information.
The image is cast;,..
It attempts and so succeeds in including you in this performance
This, plastic
These fading lights.
Everything
Burns
Out
So it seems our nation is fueled by a finite flash.
With the filaments finally finkled out, the bright idea gone,
The shepard is shot and the sheep are frenzied.
As the population grows great in numbers alone, the engine is fixed with rusted parts and the plan...
A long, smooth drive with the emergency brake cranked the whole way.
We'll see just how far mediocre runs,
We'll see...
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
Life.
4 Letters.
Numeric assignments,
I stall to answer
"what's the question?"
with
can you repeat,
my answer's too foreign,
conceptualization, it makes
sense.
Is, question or answer
deep thinking,
because the answer ran on
and on
until it was deemed compound
and split into finer artist pieces.
The question I just don't
get.
I'm stalling
to question statements
when I respond.
Numeric assignments,
4 Letters.
Life.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC
License plates...lettered ones that form
words...numbered ones that also form
numeric words.
It's travel amongst years/light years...
so if you are literate, the master will come
to the student that's ready...read!!!
Language as numeric value is confounded
to consensus sweeps...read everywhere!
Language as linguistic value is confounded
to consensus sweeps...read everywhere!
How more ***** can an alien landscape
become?
** highways...and byways!!!
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 3:11 AM UTC
Sitting here,
Tied to my chair,
Lashed with commands,
Controlled...
Filling with a desire to escape,
To free myself,
Finding freedom inside...
Imagination is my kingdom, my escape, and they call me mad,
This world blackens my senses,
Reality is a delusion,
My mind is reality,
Threatening to drift away into madness...
Or they call it madness anyway.
This cage, this prison cell, this classroom...
This grimy hole in which I stand,
Feeling them force their thoughts into my mind,
Unwillingly accepting the ****
Watching them bleach and scrub my brain,
Painting it with ignorance,
Covering it in a veil,
My senses are gone,
I only see black,
Through a world of cold numeric displays,
Charts, and blank readouts dominate the sky,
Beauty is lost,
My mind is gone.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 1:16 PM UTC
A hawk is hatched
in the harlequin hush
inside the walls of library books
in their incendiary shelves
incline
invitingly
in carnal stories
in words that leave us billowing smoke
in scenes of innuendo...
A bird of prey in flight
even in a stationary perch,
he is a glorious sight
eyes full of limpid thoughts, & search,
levitating litany
like taboo
thrown across the room
questions and detours
from his gaze
uphoric pheremonal *****
My ***** is
in a penury of vigor,
my skin / proving red-rushed
weaknesses
for just his adonis sight
for just one fantasy night...
The humid walls,
with their olden and unbiased
silences
attend my quickened qualms
attend my entirety of suddenly
needing
to be caught in his talons' violences
craving
to be the meal ~ in a hawk's sight,
flesh ripped in lushious strips
to be inside his mouth,
to feel
my digestion...
We match growling stares,
feel the quicksilver pulse,
hesitation and realization
the super nova flares
heating my middle,
hardening my fiddle
creating new sensations
and worlds of wicked inflections
a warm nest
to rest, after the S
E
X...
A nervous breath,
as he stands
abducting his hardbound knowledge
odyssies in exquisite arms
a twinkle in his bestial-brown eyes
a pause, for crumbs to be sprinkled
on the path to reprise,
a piece of paper with a numeric surpise;
a name:
"ANGEL" flashing collegiate goods,
an endangered understanding
a naughty smile--a young mouth,
and i am a V-formation
heading for warmer south...
A hawk is hatched
from the harlequin hush
of the Flamingo Library,
i am ready
to fly beyond loneliness and February,
catch urgency's godspeed to Angel
in the tradewinds of our testosterone
his invitation scribbled on a corner piece of notes
i am guessing / i'm in control
i am the words unspoken
in these pages, in dusty scrolls
in the volumes on the walls
our endangered understanding
If he is there and nothing's there...
still must follow my volcanic hopes meandering
so to speak that entangling
his and mine / tongue...
how like a hawk in Spring
i am sprung...
(and understanding
how endangered I become)
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
That is three numbers
above my echelon numeric
and happens to be my 2nd
favorite.
I never thought about why
that from a really young age
I'd fallen into romance
with a 2nd lover.
One that only sits
three buildings down the line.
We didn't meet by chance--
6am a dimly lit haze
in between our
transition from home
to not home.
It's where our bonding of
digit to digit formed
and new meaning
came to our realization
that if time was to end.
It would happen
on the 24th hour
in our 24th day
the final 24th year.
Because to imagine
existing I will always
be a youngster
a brandishing elegance of a mind.
Who understood
time was our own conception
and beyond the end
was an abyss of nothing
that I hope I'd never see.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
Forsaken nature, effigy of happiness
Radiate in sunlight
Totem to the angel of Thanatos
We, entrenched
Bespoke emotions motivate
Harbinger of stupor
Potions point skyward
Circle of sticks
Drunk with madness, archaic/futurist
A belief in life
Moving in all directions, we breathe
Levitate tables
Combed, picked and sedated
Suppress with cotton
Impress the forgotten, bathed in meat
Drowning, trickled lists, dictate infinite
Omnipotent
Radical analysts
Broken adequate
Sirens to soothe sanctum
Toothless, pews and bare footed priests
Clogged with irreverence
Confusion of the afterlife
The one with bleach stained hands
On one knee, counterpart, gone, integral
Ghost babel, patriot of purpose
Purgatory swine
A costume to cleanse Virgil
Telescopes & ritual apathy
Broken bones, oxycodones
Entrance to ozone
Deficit sadly, intrinsic in photo
Delicate, diphenhydramine dreams
Pearlescent head
Ballooned shadows of paranoia
Fingers full of glue
Toxic shock
Risen thought, gaining pace
Emerging victorious
Whisped in black smoke
Mortal & pestle
White pills, insomnia
Perfect ratio
Golden and numeric
Pleasant, unintentional hero
White matter of fact
Carcass of industry
Severed cerebellum dotted in sentence
Coalition of morbid interest
Cryptozoology, mermaids and taxidermy
Not one leg to stand on
Held in high regard
Tranquil morals
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Commands were
necessary
for alphabets and
numeric to dance.
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 3:15 AM UTC
There is a lack of an artist
in our world,
our society,
today.
Civilisation ceases to be just that
without the genius brush on the easel
or the charismatic words on a page
or even without the sound of music
In arts place, we have sickness
Sickness in the embodiment of
a piece of paper with a numeric
Sickness in the hearts of men
who care nothing more than to get a coffee
and to beat the red light
Learn to love the red light, my friend
Learn to love the wait
for it will lessen the strain
that unnecessary strain
of commitments in half beliefs
You must embrace
the simplicity of every heartbeat
the simplicity of every sunset
on every dormant Sunday
It is within the calm rustle
of the leaves of the trees
that the whispers of truth speak longest,
with words of wisdom
that settle in your ear;
“Stay calm, and be easy
you men of restlessness,
for there is nothing
worth your worry,
for there is nothing
that can harm you,
that already hasn't,
for there is nothing,
nothing
at
all.”
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 6:20 AM UTC
I wake without sleep, as numeric patterns, and geometric shapes form my place in a state of diabolatry, from deep below the normal feelings, merging the once dichotomies of my indifference.
Something is just different now.
I have fallen just beyond the facing, of a star that has traveled so far to sing, in scrambled signals, and heated beams, pushing unto me.
I breathe in the toxicity of knowing something, i could not possibly perceive, as a certain grief, fills me, and dies inside.
A dread i cannot appease in knowing that i must do something, but how, but what, but soon i must move to submit to it, regardless of the rift that builds on my broken will, in dispassionate force.
I am someone else, looking back from the portals of my trust, and i have found a secret between all of us, hoping that ill tell myself, before i **** myself on the other side, in another time, from my hell that reaches up, embracing my fear in a meaninglessness that means so much more..
I cannot put my finger on it, until it feeds me more, but the horror is prevalent, and it pours into the holes inside of me, as the empty feelings rise from my naivety, unable to be ignored anymore.
Covered in sweat, and adorned in regrets, that i have never known as of yet, as i once slept to dream, i now dream, to wake, taking nothing with me, but this.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
I am ruled by Mars
& inspired by Venus,
love to lie in numeric- configurations,
it gives me a clear view of Heaven
while being engulfed in warm-suction.
Twisting petals & licking
my cobwebs off them
is a sweet treat, but it's
the Earth-shattering floods
that knock me off my feet,
blows me over the top,
makes me
never want to stop.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 6:55 AM UTC
wheel ding utmost pro lix:
scrum compulsions won
despite feeling dog tired, (like a ton
of bricks weighed me down)
while seduced by the sun
solar radiation from the sky didst lightly run
sans, i experienced
a weird wired wider sensation pun
knee sensation otherwise, this sun dry
older puppy nun
the wiser (feeling akin
to an overly sated book worm
to boot) on a Mon
Day, nonetheless, forced
by male incarnation from Lon
don, (via NON FAKE voices
inside my noggin) a potential ***
these tired eyes, could NOT stop reading
even with figurative gun
at my head, until only sluggish progress made,
which daunting task not fun
bore witness thru novel
(in this instance plotting thru - dun
know if fie could finish
One Hundred Years Of Solitude -
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
pea pulling his story with bun
dulls of Hiss panic
Alpha Numeric characters, -
per printed page punctuated
concluded with a period,
(premature mental dejected *********** exclaimed
how ah yee got trounced
by harsh obsessive compulsive task master.
"Nay unto you Matthew Scott"!
Uttered by exactly same grievous rot
while er...mailer daemon (as above, ***
tent shill slave driver subsequently not
quite ditto for identical bon mot
mind wielding **** mask kid ding lot
intonation, now setting me hot
to worry about my thinning hair,
the little atop nixed noggin aye got
as expressed vis a vis A previous poem
of mine titled 'Argh! I suffer the plight of Bad
Hair Year In One Day!'
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
Don't mistake me for some mere mortal man, despite the fact that is what I am.
These numbers all add up, and by "add up" I don't mean "make sense". I mean compile, compound, and condense.
You are every number you are assigned. Your weight, and your height, but you're still one of a kind.
Perhaps the start became askew, as now you have to appease a certain view.
Because maybe between, "I'm trying to lend a hand," and "I'm trying to understand,"
WE found "I'm trying to define." "To outline."
To segregate, to separate.
Maybe it's time we left all these numbers behind, out of mind, and then we'll start to find;
Infinity.
By a symbol it comfortably dwells, and it is free of numeric prison cells.
I will not be shackled in digits, but I cannot be the only one to fix it.
I will have trinities on my breast, and infinitys on my liver will rest.
I will have hearts stained on my kidneys,
And upon my stomach I will florescent trees.
And as all immaculate things must fall,
Down will come symbols, purity and all.
Our descendants will come to our same flawed fate, and symbols will cages create.
Children's children's children will awake, and words they will commemorate.
They will see through to when the pen was invigorated. When words were made and encased and plated.
They will see that though words can strip and tear and disintegrate, words will never fail to free and weld and amalgamate.
So do not mistake me for some mere mortal man despite the fact that is what I am.
Because as time has past on and numbers become ballast,
I will never forget words, the first and the last.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
If I scored you on a numeric scale
You're even higher than a ten
He is barely a four-five at best
You still let him hurt you again and again
You have been trapped in this place too long
Your every thought shaped around him
I think you've had enough of this
Future feels awfully grim
What can I do to make you see
How beautiful you are?
You deserve more than a guy
Who stores your feelings in a jar
I hate seeing you treated this way
What happened to the person who was strong?
Need to see what's not good for you
His arms are not where you belong
You have wasted so much time hurting
Over somebody who does not care
He deserted you after saying
He would always be there
This relationship is not right
Twisted by his bad intent
From the moment he stepped into your life
You knew he would leave a dent
I guess that's the funny thing
Though sometimes you know it won't last
You throw away all your fears
Fall in love, and you fall fast
But he is never going to change
I am sure your other friends agree
You plus him will always equal
A great big catastrophe
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 10:18 PM UTC