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SøułSurvivør Apr 2017
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
S*pirit. Striking the bells of the *SOUL.

SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/19/2017
#npmacrostic
onlylovepoetry Sep 2017
<•>

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
" you know me Al" by Ring Lardner
Sept. 6th
6:54pm


2017
softcomponent Nov 2013
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)
The Good Pussy Apr 2015
.
                                   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
Nina McNally Jan 2011
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
Y**oung in our hearts. Keep on believing.
copyright; 2010
McNally, Inc.
-inspired by GC's newest album and just remember you'll find that special someone. Just keep fishing.
Thomas EG Apr 2015
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?
Alphabetical order fun
Alicia Strong Aug 2011
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.
Àŧùl May 2017
Even the walls have their ears,
Although they are nonliving,
Virgin cries were overheard,
Easily by the walls themselves,
Sexy 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,
G**ood habits are hard to develop.
Defaming the non-living is so easy,
People eavesdrop often to later blame it on the walls,
They say that even the walls have ears.

My HP Poem #1564
©Atul Kaushal
trf Dec 2016
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
In the bathroom of a pizza parlor there was an elongated, framed b&w; picture of the periodical table of elements. I took a picture of it and my flash glared in the middle which I thought looked neat so I manipulated the image so it was skewed and a little blurry and the above elements were the only ones that I could actually see from the photo. Credit to Breaking Bad.
Julia Dec 2013
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.
WickedHope Dec 2014
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.
Failure.
kenye May 2013
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
or so it goes...
maybella snow Nov 2013
"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 g
ood 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
Michelle S Oct 2012
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.
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.
The Good Pussy Oct 2014
.
                            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.
Leviticus 18:6-23. and  18:6-21
Ms Sarah ツ May 2015
Mood
Inherently dependant
Reflection !!
Radical disappointment
Or
R**adiant satisfaction ??
Paris Jackson Jul 2018
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
Johnny Noiπ Jan 2019
Action Painting, Canadian prostitutes, minutes alone with the Greek flag,
hot wind, fire, blood, & long blue leather for the gold design in the future, touching the heart that is really fair. Christian children who are cool have the sea power of the sun.           A yellow example of a friend's story Dogs
                                                                ­      are changing the bustling area.
Cartesian glory of amino acids.     Respond to the world, the sky is a book.
             Beauty. Sell small.
                                              Food problems. Moon. Treasure house. Russia.
French spirits.                                                         ­  Husbands will face acid.
New New York,                           July, poet father,
calm age of shadow,                        original story,
Google story, to get the number of dead animals,
the son of Robert Park's hand art,                                      art of human space,
Golden State changed the song without
the Brazilian dogs,                          hell only the language of the ancient wall Of the East German radio;
An Annual Guy's Hands Wind is the daughter
            of a number of members of the Italian-European natural rock garden.
All ages read to open heaven,
Chinese Christians, Spanish stained glass rooms,
                        other cities, enthusiastic churches
                        believe that real time Jews,
                        Igor's children,                    football fingers, many countries,
robots, heat trees, large sounds,                  large sound patterns,
large dances Calling is easier than security.
Saudi players write songs,                                     sand computer museums
help memory, write science C,
hard mountains, vitamins, pain,
sky clothes of Mexican families is unknown,
England's area is rich in health,
secret modern secrets,     remember the door,
including natural books & Sweet Fish;
                                                      Fish,     ­                                 Stella & Bob's
                                      Friends Natural Gray
Eli Listens To the Mouth's Daimon,                                            
                               Anida Company
Evil Dark Satan Blinds Area Moms
Club C And Heart, Feeling Natural,
******, crazy, future, stories,                     email stories of Canadian colors,
                                                         Canada, Canada, large soup, large king,
blue-haired, long-blooded, war staged
moving friends, dog day,             German illusion,                            illusion,
Paranitim, top in Germany, latte-lait,
Latino,                 lazio-economy, America America;
a part-time fun American girl can be a delicious girl
Leisure suited, its women's underwear;
African school's sacred music
to choose from Kenya women mold;
Moon, Moon Man City's Culture of space
Selebrita CWS *** Brazilian color screen,
radio,   air conditioning before you understand
the full life of peace; Vita on fresh brown hair.
European women, open-source Christian Christians,
CHeim, black Igor ornaments into the city in Spain.
CA l, also known as a clock,    clock, dance, coffee,
was written in the old European state in Latin eight.
Snooker Snooker is the king of the king. Writers,
scientific scientists,                        Chinese vitamins, choir, family series,
Christmas dress-up, wealthy families,
Arabic computers,                                      Australian OOD development,
rich American poetry,   modern cards
today without knowing the mind of sweet fish,
and this is a book class.                                         Stella smoked night gloves,
dark gloves.                                        He has a bad memory of mucus mucus.
There you have to drink water in the Red Sea
and the devil's eyes will be in front of you.             The lawyer who appeared in "Tragara" does not change
the woman, waiting to allow
                             a girlfriend to run to the world from the moon
to avoid being considered a quiet place, a slow walk, a monster.
Cannot compare, so in the future, the software will slow the sea
             until you arrive here,
                                                        slow down the storage space
                                                        is really surprising in three years,
                                                           it revealed that the message to the brain
                                                      is on a white background during Summer -
not filled with rain, teeth, storms and pinks.
There is a lot of sleep in the storm.
But healthy plants like women often have music,
as long as it enters the stomach,                              not bitter kissing women.
But my boat It is important
that small coffee problems
in the child's chest for the presence of water
in the summer will make the flowers thousands of food plants
                                 that you need in a very good perfumed ***** of women:
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
I love her
She's wonderful
Shhe's prurient
And she'[s emollient
And truant when in the ood
Pervasive in her affection
Affectionate in her affliction
She stayed with me through her dying days
Lifeless breaths
But she got to thee
With a sense of sanguinity
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust;
Andrew Marvel
Two women, we think,
are on a date,
leaning forwards
across the wooden table
in this restaurant
called ‘ood’ because
the lights outside
are not all working properly.

It is that day after all,
the day of much gushing,
duvets peppered with flaky paper hearts,
florists raking the money in,
and in this instance,
two women having a meal,
maybe getting to know
each other’s little quirks,
the idiosyncrasies that make them them.

We can only assume.
The journey home,
the tension turning bonfire red.
What will become of them tonight,
in the morning, a double bed
actually used for two,
a bathroom mirror stealing
a newcomer’s face.

I turn to you
in my drizzle-flecked coat,
say maybe it’s just a business meeting,
no flirtation, just figures.
Not everybody does dates.
Except these women do,
or will do, we assume,
in the ten seconds it takes
to walk past
on our way back to your car.
Written: February 2020.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
donny Jul 8
I would of called you a word god,
but can't do that cause it sounds ood.
You have seen through my lies
and even heard my cries,
yet you still stuck around
but it's wired because I feel like a princess who is crowned .
I was drowned with my pride, but you posed as my ride to shore
and a simple outfit with honest eyes is all you wore.
you taught me that giving life a try is like a dance
even though most of my steps were wrong you said I still had a chance,
and yes, you teased me but I still felt ease and even pleased.
you even gave me a glance when I  thought I  did not have a chance
and a simple smile with honest eyes is all you wore
not looking like you were going to war.

— The End —