"ood" poems
Wood, twisting iron, wresting
Incumbent wind of an idiom.
Nomenclature learned in
Direct proportion to the
Clicking of clavichords, the
Harmonics of harpsichords, the
Iconoclastic rather than
Memes which disavow the
Etherial. For a breath of air is
Spirit. Striking the bells of the SOUL.
SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/19/2017
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC
she was reading haruki murakami
and licking her lips of muffin crum
bs - - i, placated via cellphone, calle
d to leave a message for a friend ab
out Oscar Wilde's De Profundis a
s i think i forgot it on his couch spea
k-easy speak-fast distract myself wit
h cigarette headrush rants and slow-
mo's she moves close gazing as i c
uriously whisper back with connect
ed pupil and she comes so so close - - g
arbage can next to me close - - she keep
s peeking at me, pulls out norwegian w
ood scans road i awkwardly pull out an
thology of chinese poems from backpa
ck to possibly impress! she keeps peek
ing peeking peeking i almost start conve
rsation but heart-beats race-track grand
prix miss my bus and i know it almost re
trieve cigarette from pocket (ghoulish goo
dy) second-guess she may think it unattra
ctive? no shiney faced race horse (*do u ev
en lift, bro - - no dude i don't, i literally do
n't lift*) cement truck clamours past and i n
ot really paying attention to the ******* c
hinese poems anyway begin to read the way
the sun glances off the spinning barrel like c
hinese poetry - - glancing always to newspea
k my way into awkwardity so ******* he
adrush** she walks away, turns on heel to loo
k me in darting eyeballs (*are u coming? i sup
pose so, jesus*) i clamour onto my feet and foll
ow her pretend to be checking bus-times ya fu
ckin goof 15X arrives and she departs without
a smoke-signal we were close we were close we
were close *and i missed my bus waiting for my
self to brave-and-snake* so i walk away pretend-
careless and finally retrieve cigarette from pocket
read the smoke like chinese poetry (ghoulish goody)
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 5:49 PM UTC
Calling all lovers,
Attendtion; Please read this. Time is
Really lost. The room is spinning,
Don't forget there are other fish in the sea, just jump
In and dive for them. They should be there with
Open arms, waiting.
Love can be a magically thing--
On with the show already. Ladies & Gentlemen I welcome you,
Good Charlotte, playing their new album, "Cardiology." Forever
Young in our hearts. Keep on believing.
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 1:22 PM UTC
Anytime you feel lonely
Beckon for me to come into your arms
Catch hold of my hand in the shadows, in the back row
Don't let go.
Every day is a new day
Feeling good
Good feeling
Happy... Almost.
I don't want you to leave as well
Just stay, please...
Keep your fingers crossed
Love the way that your dark eyes shine so brightly
My heart races in your presence
No good can come from this
Only few understand.
Please hold on for a little longer
Quit with the teasing already
Ridiculous, our circumstances...
Slow down, I want to know more
Tell me your deepest secrets
Under the light of the moon.
Velvet blankets, picnic baskets
What's next?
Xoxo, your biggest fan
You never did understand my jokes
Zzzzzz, goodnight, day dreamer...
*Now I know my ABCs,
Next time won't you comfort me?*
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
Falling down
Again, it seems
Like no one
Listens anymore.
It feels like
No one's there, everyone's just...
Gone.
Downward spiral leading me to an
Open vein in my life.
Wondering why I could
Never stop sooner.
At last, when all the smoke clears.
Night turns to
Daylight.
Good morning, is
Everything I needed
To hear.
Today,
I start myself over again.
Not going to
Get beaten down so easily anymore, because...
Up there, I know you're watching me, and it's you, who
Pulls me back together when I fall apart.
Aug 23, 2011
Aug 23, 2011 at 11:39 PM UTC
<•>
Good Acts are like Good Poems
*"Good acts are like good poems.
One may easily get their drift,
but they are not rationally understood"*
Albert Einstein
Ach, mein guter Kumpel!
Ach, mein bester Freund!
how could I not have known,
the syncopation, the synchronization,
between what I write, and the impetuous impetus within,
that caustic sense that burns words
from my chest
directly onto the paper
are more than correlated,
even causation-ally related
after all, you, naturally, the master of relativity
but you know me Al,^
I, the quibbler from NYC*
have to have a slightly different take,
in my gemeinschaft city of eight million strangers,
we always must have eight million and one
opinions
true dat, when I am on the fifth or sixth stanza,
realizing got no clue what the poem is rambling about,
but it sounds so good, lovely, pretty words,
why ***** it up with scientific rationality?
but good acts are easy, uber understood,
rationally we live to survive and
do what we to
make the species survive, common sense triumphs,
disguised as sacrifice, forgetting to roll the dice,
doing what comes like a good poem,
and what needs doing or writing
is so intuitively obvious,
just love poetry,
a global necessity
so check out Houston in two thousand and seventeen
here's hoping life in heaven ain't boring
know that you've seen, peeked, peaked,
at the theory of everything,
resolving the contradictions
between general laws of physics
and those pesky tiny quantum mechanicals,
even solving that 'other' equation
GA = GP
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
Even the walls have their ears,
Although they are nonliving,
****** cries were overheard,
Easily by the walls themselves,
**** sounds of **********
Deflowering the young wife,
Roping in spies for the purpose,
Opening the ***** so delicate,
People so enjoy overhearing,
Pretty sights shine right upfront,
In their addiction to **** time,
No secrets remain virtuously,
Good habits are hard to develop.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC
Crackling. Rocking. Crackling. Creaking and oscillating, a century old Mahogany Wood seceded to the paSsage of time.
Particles of sand, confounded by the Peninsula’s chaotic, blasting breeze now revealed a shade of burnt tar.
Outside of the second floor Maissonette, sways the rocking chair once warmed by Grandpa.
A Tactless, impatient, rhythmic Requiem Bashes near the wiNdow pane as the sunset falls Under the frame.
Empty Folklore presides like the Residue of a once lambent effigy… SwOosh. Hush!
Cocktails were a Preamble to lunch like diabetes to Nephropathy.
Corrosive Rhetoric seeped in to expose the ego of a Sommelier.
A smile would Parachute down when you needed it like Nicotine to remind that no Precedent had been set, just an Anomaly.
Cutthroat beginnings, this was no Analog man.
In grade school his Cosmos found Zion and “The world to come”.
This baby’s Cradle, abandoned High atop a mountain was blown by a Chinook towards the Atlantic.
“I was found swallowed in a stained Table cloth by Balkan children on a treasure hunt, with no Guarantee and no resignatIon. "
The boTtle narrates these chronicles and a smile parachutes down when you need it like nicotine.
Dionysus Crafted his accounts while most Garnered his spiels with Snide. As they witnessed dream remembrance; he thought his memory was Presumably accurate, and although his tales were triFling to the gathering audience, they became his Heliocentric history.
Calling me a young Galleon and handing me a map, Grandpa scanned his hand across the vast land
guaranteeing trEasure would be found if I had no resignation.
This Asinine assertion to my teenage sister Symbolized the Barring of her unheeding imagination by time and then a smile parachuted down just when she needed it like nicotine.
_TRF
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
I car ved you out o f
w ood and out o f
m y hand s you
gr ew back into what
you were; a beautiful tree
who grew to reach
all of the
beautiful
stars. I should
have let you be.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
I keep seeing hints of you
In forced synchronicity
Where everything adds up to 5
Maybe it's a sign
Or I'm losing my ******* mind again
Did you catch the hint?
Is the madman manifesting?
Impulsive manic mood swings to paper
Filling out with the Full Moon
As the Maiden waxes away
I'm watching
Light up my sacral bond
Lightning strikes
like shotgun blows to the sky
A peephole into Heaven's locker room
Blame it on the the rain
You caught me off guard
Out of sync
Girl you know it's true
That we're stranger than fiction
My siren in the satire
Muse in the mayhem of my mind
I could be your Vonnegut
As I'm Freudian slipping
On my spilled guts in the 5th slaughterhouse
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
*"because i hate myself"
"how can you hate yourself so much though?!"
"i just do"*
i know its difficult to understand
but i thought this through
and i've figured a way to describe what its like
i hope maybe you'll understand
a little maybe.
imagine you're angry with someone
they've maybe broken something special to you
or forgotten to do something and it ended in disaster
well, you're angry with them, so frustrated and angry
and you have built up rage, muscles tense and you know
you cant hurt them, because thats bad, and you'll feel worse
but the person you're angry with
is you.
its like there's two of me
the me that is a body
just simple and does what its told
then there's my head
my mind
my mind gets frustrated with my body
so very angry
my mind punishes my body
for not being perfect enough
for not doing something perfect
for forgetting or not doing it good enough
imagine that
over every
tiny little thing
of course i hurt myself
its how i learn
to be perfect
i'm working on it
but i'm still angry
with my body
for not performing
good enough
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 2:44 AM UTC
FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTHING. WORTHLESS.
LOSER. FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTHING. WOR
THLESS. LOSER. FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTHIN
G. WORTH
LESS. LOSE
R. FAILURE.
NO GOOD.
NOTHING. WORTHLESS. LOSE
R. FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTH
ING. WORTHLESS. LOSER. **FAIL
URE.** NO G
OOD. NOT
HING. WO
RTHLESS. L
OSER. **FAIL
URE.** NO G
OOD. NOT
HING. WO
RTHLESS.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
.
wood
wood wood
wood wood wo
wood wood woo
wood wood wood
wood wood woo
d wood wood w
ood wood wood
wood wood woo
d wood wood w
ood wood wood
wood wood woo
d wood wood w
ood wood wood
wood wood woo
d wood wood wo
wood wood wood wood
wood wood woo d wood wood.
wood wood wood wood
Wood. wood
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
I am sitting in an empty space that is not mine I hate this space I am cramped and it's almost too
stuffy to breathe and as I sit in this detested seat out of range of understanding others' speaking I
am raging inside The rage is building and has nowhere to go I am sick sick SICK of speaking an
d not being heard like every **** thing I say doesn't mean **** to anybody I say the same fucki
ng thing five times in a row and even then I'm not really heard with understanding There's hardl
y any recognition that I have even bothered to open my mouth God forbid my opinion have any
standing anywhere on anything until somebody realizes too late that I already said this was goin
g to happen And I write these words and I know that if they are read they will still be misunderst
ood Even if they are comprehended by someone willing to read them And this just makes the rag
e boil harder in the pit of my stomach I feel sick I don't know why I even try It's so pitiful It's the f
act that I understand that I am never heard or listened to that keeps me from speaking now. I can
't say these words. But I guess that's the reason I can let them flow onto paper and take frustration
out on anybody who chooses to read what I have to say. My pain in my silence is the only thing
reminding me that in this case, my pain is my silence, better in than out, because nobody gives a
**** and it doesn't matter anyways.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
.
Forgive me
Father for I have
sinned." ' I will set
my face against the
person who turns
to mediums and
spiritist to prostitu
te himself by follo
wing them, and I
will cut him off fro
m his people. " 'If
anyone c urses his
father o r mother,
he must be put to d
eath. His blood wi
ll be on his h e a d.
" 'If a man lies with a
man as one lies wi
th a woman, bot h
of them have done
w h at is detestable.
T h e y must be p ut
to d e ath. What th
e y have done is p
erversion, their bl
ood will be on their
o w n heads." 'If a
man lies with a wo
man during her m
onthly period and
he has ****** relat
tions w ith her, he
has exposed the source
of her flow, and she has also un
covered it, both of them must be
cut off from their people.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
Mood
Inherently dependant
Reflection !!
Radical disappointment
Or
Radiant satisfaction ??
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
Every thing has always been black and white
Happiness and Sadness, black and white.
Love and Hate, black and white.
Dreams and Reality, black and white.
Life and Death, black and white.
Good decisions and Bad decisions, black and white.
Grey has long faded from my life,
From the time I was a little girl full of innocence and I fell and scraped my knee at the park
To the time where you threw me away at time square and acted like you and I were nothing at all
That's when I truly found out,
Everything is black and white,
Good and Bad,
Grey does not exist.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
Dreams so far it's hard to dream it
Dream so close my soul can reach it
I tried to feel it in my hands my heart already felt it
Body so cold that we my soul can melt it
Dream so big my computer couldn't save it
Heart so sad because my mother didn't make it
Best friend gone because the pain, she couldn't take it
recipe never made because my hands couldn't mix it
Hair so bad because the sister couldn't fix
Will I chase my dreams you best believe it
God can never bless you, if you don't open up and receive it
Now I'm being real I think you should be real and not fake it
Dreams are so far but it's easy to make it
God is the truth and life inside you
Don't try leave all that stuff behind you
All though things will start to blind you
And you say is it doesn't mind you
Your mother looks in your eyes and she can’t find you
You don't need me to be kind to you
You need the truth
And like a tooth
It will all
fall out
And the you'll sit there and pout
And when time comes for god to count
You will have doubt
In your heart
And from the start
Our life is a cart
Forever rolling
But if you don't trust in god it will feel like you bowing
Rolling and rolling
Until you stop
And pop
Like a glock
The force from which you fired
Will make you feel like you have been rewired
But on the wrong road
And if you want you story to be told
You need to stop being cold
and open up
Like a cup
Be filled with the strength of god
So stop listening to that ipod
And listen to god
I know some people think this is ood
But dreams
are like screams
Yelling and yelling
Swelling
Inside you
But you can't hear it be cause of all the stuff behind you
Because to ties that bind you
will not be kind to you
But at least im
Paying mind to you
But when your mom looks in your eyes and finds you
You can thank me for not being kd to you
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC