"omissions" poems
Golden Valleys, Growing Naturally
<>
This is a Logo in Ireland, Dairygold™
is the company.
I would safely say, that there is hardly
an acre in rural Ireland devoid of some
form of artificial fertilisers, pesticides,
herbicides or fungicides.
(Ireland is riddled with consumer cancer)
If the Logo was written as follows,
a comma between Growing & Naturally
plus an exclamation mark ! which should
really be a question mark ? (in the absence
of the comma between Valleys & Growing)
i.e.
Golden Valleys, Growing, Naturally! or ?
Then it might pass.
Let's see if we can force them to change
it and by doing so, it will highlight the
fraudulent practice of duping consumers
with blatant grammatical omissions and
the wordplay illusion by clever marketers.
(Well, perhaps not as clever as they thought)
ps.
I spent all morning, wondering should they
be a comma in the last paragraph, in the
afternoon, I removed it. Oscar Wilde.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 3:27 AM UTC
dear, you cut me off mid-sentence.
for all my skills, techniques and terms
here's a thing i can't find a way to convey.
a narrative even beyond comprehension to it's protagonist
a girl without a simile or metaphor applicable?
somebody to leave me laconic, short in syntax, unstructured.
will we discuss possessive pronouns now?
for in subtext, i am the possessive one.
i'm so lacking verbally
but i'm sure you'd understand it contextually
to punctuate: i can be the ellipsis, the implication of my omissions
but you're in my text as the most eager mark of exclamation
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
WE SOW FUTUTRE CALAMITIES
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected])
We sow the seeds of future calamities
In our capricious commissions and omissions
We put ourselves centre stage with ego
Not minding how much we mar
The future comfort in our mad scramble
For power and material glory
A wham Pam Pam in which we are carried
Far much away to verge of self-destruction
Cutting the woods to glow fire of selfish fame
Balancing our character on the tri-vicious
Pillars of sycophancy, snobbery and selfish hypocrisy
Looking at the clouds with scold not knowing
Is the cradle of deep blue suits and fibres
In its sympathetic micturations on matter below
The nonchalant oceanic human locomotive soles
Our deeds are full of vagaries as we jostle
To change the world before we change ourselves
The tired world is soon to change the capricious humanity
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 4:18 AM UTC
this society of ours is so gargantuan,
policed by the daylight we hold at night for ransom,
Like a Jesus or a black Aphrodites,
I'll be your daddy if you let me call you my mommy,
give me your milk, the nectar that forms at your eyelids
We can go out in public on a weeknight Ireland,
I won't drink, but I'll wrestle every penny you
throw into each fountain, unless each wish
you make puts us together in California. At 55º it's as
cold as it seems your heart is, you whisper the omissions
of lies over mute. Every silver trinket on this charmers'
bracelet abused. Be the freeway and I'll be the car, drive around my circles, and we can drive the map of the Hollywood Stars. This circus- paddy-wagon, sewer stardom, I've always been the over-roasted beans from your local Starbucks. I grew up to grow up, I got up to throw up, I sought you to show up, and give you this leigh garland. Egyptian or pitiful, critical mister 'are not.' My words were worthless and wounded by such ardor of this perfervid martyr. Enveloped by threading the eye of this tempestuous hourglass, just another sign of being extremely intolerable to the minutia, the worried, and nervous curse of being so human and the fear of being, quite heart broke.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
With pompous fanfare I delight those few,
To smiles and loud ovations from afar,
Who sit upon my daydream's blessed pew,
And light night's darkened pathways as the stars,
With half-truths, bland omissions, outright lies,
I paint the murals colored by success,
To cover over failures, my disguise,
And hide their idol God has yet to bless,
For had I told the truth and never lied,
Those precious few would see and nod their heads,
Acknowledge my ejection justified,
Accept their children's love for me as dead,
For any food that fails to carry taste,
Is cast aside as utter worthless waste.
(C)2014, Christos Rigakos
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
This amazing architecture of allure; awe-some
to behold , from beneath bed upon beautiful bed
of clouds, cotton-white, concrete-gray and crow-black,
this dangerous density diligently damning my dainty
existence; ever eliciting earnest
and fevered fallacies of false pride to be fatally felled by
this gigantic gale-mother, these gods of galactic proportions.
Hold me, as I help myself hallucinate about heaven in hell,
Innately inundating my lost innocence with it.
Joyously joining in jovially joking about our jubilation in,
Killing our Kudis and our Khaleesis in keeping with,
Our love of labeling lust as love and losing ourselves to,
Mankind's madness for maleficence. We manipulate
our naive needs into necessities, neutralizing all notions
Of obscenity, Obese in our omissions.
Petulantly, we punish any probability of penance or pity.
We will soon quiver and quake, while quail will fly in this beautiful quag,
Resting reluctantly and resisting the requiem of the realm,
That holds a sad semblance of the sky's seas.
Traveler, your traveling is less than trash if you haven't traced
This ubiquitous umbrella; untouched and untainted
By the viscous vice that voraciously vitiates the viscera.
Wait, weary world look up to the place that no words can describe,
To the heavenly xystus that acts as a xylophonic xylem to our xerical and xeroxed dreams.
Yearn traveler yearn, for your eyes to look yonder forever,
To feel the zigzagging zephyrs that witnessed every zenith of history, from Zoas to Zebras.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
When I walk on
the treadmill roads
Intended
by my selfish feet
****** thy hands into my soul
and Yank
misused
marionette strings
*reverse my decisions
inverse my positions
delightfully
discordantly*
refract
your light into mine eyes
that blinded I may see
with humbled mottled clarity
thy boundless charity
*transcend my omissions
And mend my revisions
emphatically
radically*
do this
with harsh
decided love
protective father smile.
make every step
I feebly take
worth your matchless while
*rehearse my transgressions
transverse my digressions
dramatically
tyrannically*
the dance you wield
with tangled strings
shall far exceed
my selfish dreams
so tear, dear father
every whim
devote me
solely
unto Him
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
An anteroom for his Mistress tended
By a man with empty smiles and sore aches
He slept in the corner while she the bed,
She was his all, his command, his heart-break.
For all her wanderings he never thought
About where she, leaving him, goes off to
A jealous inquisition did lead to naught,
The Mistress would pass without an adieu.
Always poised she, with her victorious pride
Given endless comfort of getting away
With all acts, omissions of wrong and right,
He, a mute never complaining, loving her each day.
Relationships seldom come without a cost,
Nigh impossible 'tis for a Slave to have it be lost.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:26 AM UTC
Put away your tools. I only want you to hear.
Don't try to fix me. I cannot be fixed.
Accept that or not.
Don't question my pain when you have lied to me.
Don't question my instincts when they are correct
And you don't like the answer they find.
All I asked for was the whole truth.
You opted not to give it.
Suffer the consequences the same as I have had to.
Don't try to fix me. I cannot be fixed.
I ache with the emptiness I hold within.
We filled me with pain together
There's room for no more.
Don't ask me to be blind.
I see as I always have.
I cannot swallow the lies and omissions anymore.
I am bloated with them.
I cannot give what I do not have.
I cannot give what you will not accept.
The resentments will follow us unless
We can be truthful.
They consume us.
I cannot ask for what you will not give willingly.
Don't try to fix me. There is nothing left to fix.
Let us build something new with the truth.
Stop hiding and come build with me.
This is how you can help me and help us.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
I've said too much, I've lost my head, I've given up
I have nothing left.
The parchment paper rips down your throat.
As you tear your voice down every note,
The word “ihateyou”
**** every song.
A chill in the ear is a bell tones throng.
Believe that somethings wrong, cuz it ******* is! Believe that you're in love, cuz you're a ******* kid!
You cannot hold onto,
Stuffed blankets and pillows,
Live by a matchbook,
Head next to the gallows,
The heat from a sun has now died with the billows.
No air or ox-y-gen is capable resuscitation,
To stoke up this flame from dead coals in this bastion,
Each illusion is frozen by the heat ******* electron.
Division/deviation from a path that I abandon.
The futile, failure, falling to the knees view of a god that I do not cling to.
This songs about existence,
The pain in a distance,
Reminiscent,
Of a horizon,
Built on grandeur and heart omissions.
****** by a necropolis,
Of soul stealing black hole mouths.
Forgotten by its maker,
When the heartless chopped him to the ground,
Fraught with false oaths.
Suburbia disintegrates to ash and leaking gouache.
Bleed out.
Bleed out.
Bleed out.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:54 AM UTC
Karmic omissions saturate the spell
Of which was deserted eons ago
Left overtaken by virulent vines
Seething from how the Almighty's sun shines
They seek to confront everything they can
Within the rhythms of algorithms
In a most preposterous way in day
For the absolute lack of its match
To their steely visions of humdrum
So now, it is finally up to us
To play the now vacant, coveted ***
Our dear God was, before He took the bus
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
The following
shall be omitted;
Existential dread,
Fear
of the past
present
future,
Lack of sovereignty,
Knowledge of evil,
(Acknowledgement of such)
*I couldn’t care less.
Could care less means
you care*
Thus: caring shall be omitted,
Anxiety,
Boundaries,
General thought,
omissions must be made
Please retain intelligence
and a small capacity for
emotion.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
They never understand;
Or ever comprehend
The severity of my decision.
I'm convinced I have control,
Yet those I dearly hold,
Keep hold on their derision.
I know I'll find remission
For commissions and omissions;
My love was never so cold.
She'll say I never loved her;
There always was the other
Stopping us from growing old.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
Thieving and burglary - deliberate
indulgent, ignorance, waste of opportunities - deliberate
drinking, loose morals, bad company, drugging - deliberate
lazy, stupidity, state dependency in viable health - deliberate
babies for welfare payments, employment avoiding - deliberate
hate, envy, jealousy, lies, slander, crimes, drunkenness - inadequacies
Racism, ignorance, small mindedness, pettiness, belligerence - Low scale inherent characteristics
Betrayal - engineered
Loss of employment and brilliant career ruination - engineered
alone and social isolation - engineered
lack of intimate relationship - engineered
Rudeness, screams, fractured relationship - engineered
economic stagnation - engineered
Physical limitations - engineered
In the woke civilisation of the great Island
Psychopaths Social and structural Engineers march in Red
In raving anodyne tones the entitled ivories do the twist
Please ignore all the listed deliberate glaring omissions above
No! you see in deluded grandeur
Its time for the blame game, its time for the blame game
Its all the fault of the immigrant
who studied and worked to make a better life
especially that black successful one
with everything just going well for him
we didn't boat him on on the Windrush
He's not cleaning our roads or in the factory
He's not fetching and wiping **** in the Hospital
He's not even into crime and supplying our drugs
No! No! No!
He is a leech and a parasite
He is responsible for our miserable uninspiring life
Comrades, join us, the Revolution is now
They say I suffer, I have pain
How can I, I wonder
when its all your engineered and dramatized work
of which I am not in the least responsible!
And you know it!
Narcissists, Psychopaths, Depressives, Mentally challenged loonies
We give you your Revolution, please enjoy the spoils!!!
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC
Omissions we make take us somewhere
but where that could be
I've no
clue,
I lose all momentum when friends come to stay
and the talk turns to
what shall we do
tomorrow.
Like
decaying uranium we linger, the fingers of time are our fate,
the half-lives of sinners are longer and get longer the longer they play on my nerves,
inner sanctums are no more a sanctuary
the walls I concreted broke down,
the lions may roar a denial, but something's
going on in the town,
ships sailing at dawn for the Islands
on missions to take them away,
only here for a day gone in sorrow,
in tears on the quayside
I see my
tomorrow.
The future is closer this evening
the day drifts off into the past,
uncertainty is the new reason
I'm glad that's
decided, at
last when the bell starts its long climb
before it falls back down
and chimes
I climbed that tall mountain
so often
and fallen back down
many times.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
Hidden behind secret walls,
Within truth it falls,
Omission puts to question,
Hidden answers at discretion,
By dream problems solved,
Secrets paths involved,
Hidden are motives,
Behind are good intentions,
Masks what we perceive,
Hidden through negative actions,
In good faith we believe,
Lies aren't always to deceive,
No truth can satisfy,
Need to keep hope alive,
To understand reason for lies,
Question only the alibis,
Motives often for good,
Only methods can be *******
Know not all end has should,
This may lead to question,
Is there a good enough answer?
Just know this is not from aggression,
Life of lies is like a dancer,
We hold onto truth as if gold,
All the gold cannot protect us,
Have truths kept harm from a lover?
Secrets could give some cover,
We know truth we must say,
Hide truth only if no other way,
If you lose your secrets,
You lose a part of who you are,
Love must exist without regrets,
Someone has to stay on par,
You can maintain honesty,
Must have a heart of compassion,
Accept others out of courtesy,
Who is wrong when acting of care?
They show passion through efforts,
Are they wrong to not be bare?
Fully in truth brings virtue and despair,
Lies told in a way to please,
Omissions protect many secrets,
Masks give courage and ease,
Secrets are precious when few know,
And everything is good and bad,
All things are needed to grow.
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 9:45 PM UTC
It is the evening of my darkest day,
The day after yesterday,
Preceding tomorrow,
When reality bites with jagged teeth,
Oh my goodness is this real,
Hopefully bring no more sorrow,
A fantasy, no big deal,
Or so she thought,
A question upfront without admission,
Only omissions,
Admitted in rash moments of indiscretion slips,
In a weird weir of tumbling issues,
As tears fall bi-laterally,
Caught in fragile cobwebs mesh,
Sticky, so they can't escape!
Poetry is his, she is mine also,
Have craved all day for a room,
In which I can deposit my pleasure,
Sharing gifts is our greatest asset,
Him, in mode of ebony,
Me, bathed with angels lights,
Normal MO,
Such a joy to behold,
At the moment roles reversed!
Livvi Kent June 2013
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 7:34 PM UTC
Spun on a thread, a gossamer thread
Hung on a dream in a watershed,
Shadows suspended in effortless time
Regretting those words left unsaid.
Regretting omissions, those hesitant thoughts,
Words bitten back by the tongue,
When clear expression could lighten the load
To sing every song left unsung.
So dimly, through deficits' dust laden air
In a shaft of brittle white sun
My confession remiss for omissions amiss
Paint bereft-ness before it’s begun.
M.
11 January 2016
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
I've got whole worlds shaking
a rush of feeling
moving the plates of the planets in my mind
if worlds really exists in there
their denizens are dying
by the thousands
my brain is scrambled and askew
I can't tell truths
I've forbidden lies
I’m left with omissions that rend my insides
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
Feel the sensation
Hear the motion
See true vision
Touch Blue Ocean
Look how devotion
Has made provision
And no delusion
Can stop distinction
Life’s set omissions
Has shown directions
And made deliberations
That birth celebrations
Real heart motivation
Create pure liberation
Sense the inspiration
Life applauds determination.
(c) Obukov
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC
How easy to distill the past
sifting out impurities
so a clean silky edge
will soothe another’s tongue.
Serve up what flatters
spit out distasteful lapses
swallow raw memories
let them sink
deep into the silted
heart of gray.
The lies we
tell each other,
tell ourselves.
We are all revisionists
editing our histories, omissions
catered to the prevailing
whims of taste and culture
until intimacy unmasks us.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
I. ending. leaving. over(done). no more. we are dissolved and curtailed. goodbye and i’m not sorry.
II. crying. aching. shaking. breaking. waking up to missing you. i still need you and i’m not sorry.
III. breathing. bracing. hardening. bitter. i hate you and i’m not sorry.
IV. softening. sighing. sweeter, easier. throw you away. i need to do this and i’m not sorry.
V. forgetting. glaring omissions in memory; neglected. don’t think about it. finally concluded - i forgot your birthday and i’m not sorry.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
and then i stepped to the side
afterwards to the front
as the monitor shone
lights streaking in
omissions
of fingers
and
juxtapositions
imagining lilies
in the hands of someone
who's gone
leaving twenty years
in a wave
that has swept
well-kept lawns
and into the night
i made peace
with the owl that yawns
together we laughed
knowing we are still
prisoners of
that single step
frozen in flight
and done.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
If you observe occurrences in Nature
(The way a stone ripples the water,
The arc of a cormorant descending toward its prey)
You will note a precision in the movements
Which is utterly Pythagorean in its pattern
(Not that the natural world is without its inconsistencies;
The progress of a conflagration, for example, seems entirely random.)
It would seem that such a thing is good;
No, more than that, entirely holy,
All that is necessary and sufficient to prove beyond doubt
That which is equally necessary and central to our belief:
A plan--His plan--which governs all things under the sun.
Such notions, I have found to my considerable dismay,
Do not sit well with viceroys and archbishops,
Who have a vested interest in the maintenance of certain mysteries
(To be fair, they are not evil or necessarily even impious;
They are men, nothing more or less,
And have to navigate perilous, unmapped straits
Between the secular and the sacred; at their appointed time,
They will have their own commissions and omissions to answer for.)
Nevertheless, none of us can escape the certainty
That the root of our faults can be found at our own doorway,
And I cannot deny that the attempt
To reduce God’s works to a schematic of formulas, diagrams and triads
And then, preening and squawking as a peacock,
Trumpet the results to the world
(As if the mystery of faith would be no more
Than a handful of equations and charts)
Is simply the manure of arrogance, the flotsam of sinful pride.
I have had, these past few weeks,
Considerable leisure to pray and reflect;
My thoughts have not drifted, curiously enough,
To the great and sweeping, the grand and all-encompassing
(Perhaps that is due to the whys and wherefores of my current predicament, Perhaps due to the narrow window of my enclosure),
But rather to the most pedestrian of things:
The clarion of the wind in the trees prior to a brief summer storm,
The lover’s dance of the hummingbird and the lupin,
And I am comforted (and, I confess, a bit amused)
By the notion that Our Savior may take a moment from his labors
To watch them as well.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC