"optimize" poems
*
***your pride tries to optimize
my persona, to suit your needs,
and if it doesn't, you criticize...
Yet, you're good enough...
your prejudice makes you
suspect even my good deeds,
and you demean me for them too....
Yet, you're good enough...
your control freakiness
makes you restrict me
even if i act right...
Yet, you're good enough...
your self centeredness
wants me to fit in the standards,
you define and ever-changing ...
Yet, you're good enough...
the veil of your hatred
doesn't let you see
my love and concern for you...
Yet, you're good enough...***
*
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
Copycat, collect the nectar,
it will optimize your splendor.
Grasping it by the gallons,
drinking poison, immune, callous,
to the pain you aligned, and profusely measured.
Fixated on this peeling label,
bend it back, are you able,
To contain symptoms as they surface?
Written down as toxic in cursive,
a sign of recovery crowned as 'fatal'
Copycat, take your weapons,
along the speckled crimson as logical 'sessions'.
Brim the shell, or remain hollow?
Graphic truth is hard to swallow,
unseen pain is being reflected-
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC
~
*Optimize
Arborize
Centralize
Personalize
Give recognition its own library
Its own USB port
An evening of multiple connections
Hardwired and soothingly modem
Transmits my thoughts into you
I know your voice
I know your body
And how they work together
To leave a clear network to my heart*
~
May 18, 2023
May 18, 2023 at 5:26 PM UTC
epitomize
and optimize
imitate
and recalibrate
streamline
and recombine
the evolutionary "line"
fireflies
and theorize
circulate
and gyrate
guideline
and divine
the galaxy and the stars
moonrise
and clockwise
death rate
and procreate
sunshine
and lifeline
laws of nature are defined
maximize
and re-size
penetrate
and migrate
bloodline
and decline
the story of our world
allies
and despise
prostate
and dictate
enshrine
and benign
generations throughout time
endings
and beginnings
losing
and winnings
and everything
in between
is what we find
Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 4:44 PM UTC
i don't want to be helpless
i don't want to be functional and gone
it's a difficult problem to optimize
the best heuristic so far has been a slightly romanticized approach
it goes like this:
i build my armour, but it's made of flowers
it's not as heavy
and i'm always ready to pick one and give to you and show you what's inside
i still have it in me to fight for it
to say that i believe they'll always grow back
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
Shall I be a chameleon?
In a way that
Makes observers sick,
Shall I uncunningly
Side the slick?
Shall I optimize my chance
Echoing both
The good or wrong stance
Of who by unfair means
Seized the rein of power
And hence benefits
Will not be loath
On me to shower?
A chameleon,
Reflecting my surrounding
Shall I be
Self serving
As it has become
Nowadays a common thing?
Shall I be an ermine ?
Keeping my professional
And self integrity
And cleanliness
True to my conscious
To the extent of
Facing an unfolding adverse
Shall I distance
My self
From being
A false witness
On my colleagues
And neighbours?
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
asleep
only acknowledged when awake
trapped
seems so easy once above
the labyrinth
of physicality
illusory creations
of geometric energy.
Lost
in the wired perception of reality
forgetting
that all was taught was taught by teachers
teaching what was taught to them
not knowing the alteration
and miscommunication
developing over the generations.
only reactions
that is what defines me
how I respond
in certain situations
how I speak and spew
opinions I heard elsewhere
plagiarizing ideas
that never really belonged to anyone
I, me, the abstract concept of "Malachi"
is an
algorithm!
a mathematical program designed to optimize relations
with continuity to any situation provided
I, concept
sleep soundly in my dream
hating, complaining, idealizing
while all opportunities
pushed my way
are ignored
for I slumber
I gave my freedom long ago
to become an automated machine
a complex voice-mail
an entity who never picks up the phone
never responding consciously
trapped in the spell of samsara
identifying with the machine
lost in the maze
no guaranteed escape
even though the exit is under my nose
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
Is it really sweet?
The first kiss
Everyone longs for
Is it really grand?
Is this what we all adore?
To carefully find the right person
to give it to
Maybe
Is it irresistible?
Passionate it may seem
We find it inexplicable
No matter how we see the world
It really is inevitable
Is it true?
Some people pours
Their own heart just for that
kiss
Some people play
Like they don't care
Some people wait
To really optimize that
moment
Some people die
Without knowing
what it feels like
what it tastes like
Some people
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:15 AM UTC
We are afraid
As we give you aid
We have the liberty
To maneuver your head
To the extent your are
Deprived a go ahead
To tend
Your self-development
And self -reliance
Seedbed.
"When money speaks
the truth is silent"
If you want to continue
Our client
Remember you're macilent
So try not to be violent
Fighting back with" Though
I'm poor I 'm somebody!"
'Cause, snobbish, we may prefer
This budy from that budy.
Don't be naughty
There is nothing
As such inviolable
Sovereignty.
A budy
That does not
Help better optimize
Our advantage
Shoddy, could not
Come to the same page.
Note also
We could pull strings
And to loan givers tell
"When we speak
Wag your tail!"
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 7:48 AM UTC
These words are all I have
Deep rooted down, looking just to grab
Substance that is textural text on pedestal
I’m trying to be a person
that Isn’t so forgettable
It’s hard to cross that line,
When you want to optimize
Because everything thing you know
Is in an ocean full of lies
Will you drown or arise?
Fish hook down Pull your soul to the sky
watch you rise above the tides
of the hate and the demise
I see that vibes are strong as eyes
When they flicker in night
From this point
I have a made a decision
Too cut deep
like the slice of an incision
To do what I want
No matter what the outcome is
Tangerine Dreams
Rituals of an Alchemist
Often result
in calculations
Equivalent to calculus
When I have Dreams
I visualize with the alphabet
This is sponsored by
the human life, a billion lives
Which intertwine, Who’ve been defined by actions done in repetition
Exhibit A
Point blank, this blanks a tanked state You’ve learned once don’t make the same mistake,
Remove the “mis” out of “take”
then take that opportunity, don’t miss a thing because that “s” is where you want to be.
S is for success S is for solution I is for identifying M’s is for the Movement
Don’t rearrange these letters
or you’ll lose this
Focus that you have,
positivity is blooming
Reverse the negativity
Convert your best of energies
Revert from being cloned
Create your own identity
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
The human of all spiecies
The salt of all spices
The electrons to something bigger
The consiousness to the bigger picture.
How much code do you have to optimize to be able to store the human figure?
Do you have enough money in your bank account to secure the last drop of the pitcher?
Take away an infinite-number of amounts it will never really differ.
The proof is in the pudding but even with the key to success,
some people will wish to turn back into beginners
while others can not afford to enjoy that X-mas dinner.
The recipe shows we are prone to be sinners...
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 9:34 PM UTC
As I sit here amongst the dark
it can never match the shade of my heart
this ****** world, this ****** pain
Neither can I ever escape
As sound of my sobbing disperses into the night
I know they will never be heard
Not even one ear will even be disturbed
In this moment I can optimize my weakness
And tell you that it will encounter no resistance
I cant hold on the something with no texture
I cant go on knowing none of the answers
The laughter surrounds me
An atmosphere so un-suited
My mind so diluted, and I cant relate to them
They cant relate to me, or even begin to see
Why is it the darkness that I seek
Why all of this social anxiety
I understand myself but I never react
Possibly I cant
But can I establish that
Is it a fact
Or am I just ashamed, that I wont be able to face this pain
That I cant make it go away
And instead of getting help I just make it harder on myself
It can all be traced back the fear
This Fear trapped within, always to remain
And everyday its simply the same
Eating away at my brain
All these minutes I become less sane
So step out of the way
Wouldn’t want this train wreck to touch you
I don’t want to spread my infection
Because they’re will be no resurrection
The ****** razor in my hand
And I will never understand
why I cant just end it
all I can ever do is mend it
with sight of the blood
and my hopes for love
my heart so thrashed
I should just end it at last
Then I could forget the past
And **** the future
There are plenty of other people just like me
To fill the my absentee
Blood drips from my eyes
As I remove my disguise
How do you like it you get to see my real life
As the blood drys to my face
I’m left in the darkness and its cold embrace
Nothing left to conceal
I guess you now know how I really feel
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 8:40 PM UTC
Suicidal, reclining on a sofa
Gazing at his partner’s photo,
A handsome friend of mine I got
He was by an
Overwhelming love smote.
To optimize hers
And his pleasure to trim
She opted
Suddenly to desert him.
Buddy, what weighs
So heavily on your mind?
Get it off your chest
A solution I may help you find!
“This picture-perfect girl
Sweet-talked me into love,
She playacted
As one sent from above.
But all of a sudden,
Before I had figured it out,
A mishap,
She dropped off the map.
You see, she was ready
To flee to
Her secret fiancé abroad
Simultaneously,
All the while grabbing
My hand
To lead me
Along love’s road.
With her fiancé
Stashed in
The back of her mind,
In a manner
A lead to her secret
I may not find
She was aware
Our love
To a halt
Would soon grind
However absurd
Her act I might find!”
I recited to him
A poem from Debebe Seifu,
Ethiopia’s famous poet,
Cognizant a well prescribed
Poem is an antidote
"You served me
An asinine chalice
Concocted of
Honey and gall,
Which at one shot
I gurgled down my throat.
Your fingers caressed me
To make me forget my pain
To lullaby me in to a sleep
Upon awakening from
My hallucination to get myself
In a thorny bed again."
Reading, re-reading the poem
Laughing out loud,
His anguish he soon forgot.
So make note,
To normalize a mood swing
Reading poems is a nice thing.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 8:27 AM UTC
Blogging on a piece of paper
Let me erase the title, and call this deja Vu, I feel like we've met before,
no?
Alright then we'll **** anyways because beneath our shallow waters sinks a heavy chest.
But hear me out it's not that I'm doing this for fun and games, and there are to no depths that I cannot hold my breath, my desire is that you feel all the love I have to give,
Even if it's one second,
I may pass out, how long have I been holding my breath, was there a miss communication between my brain and (look at chest)
Look at these clothes! Fashion is to me, look good but express what I want you to see,
I'd rather be naked, only wear clothes when I have to deal with idiots in public...
Or sports, it just seems practical for some,
I know I don't have ADD or ADHD , I took those tests, but I do have a knack for puzzles, and some times I lose track of one piece for another,
So I optimize on body language, throw in opinions, to complete the lie until proven otherwise,
And When the truth hides behind the blank canvas waiting to be painted by our perspectives, it stands as naked as I am now,
And if these words are not revealing enough. find me...
and I'll call it deja vu.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
[we live]
these
days
eyes, raw ringed: mauve.
dustcurtains. lung-still
and dry
cover gasping-
fingers sanded down, dusted away
to later be inlaid
with something
else.
grappling clever-
broken bird feet.
the gaping is wide enough down here
even
for you
wanting to be a victim of something good-
lapping up *** of(f) belly hair
entangled.
and
as every human speck
fights for selfpreservation- without clairvoyance or beauty.
as the mud pumps.
as carmen plays.
as we die again in less than convenient specificities.
we will be replaced.
like furniture.
and those who seek to optimize everything
right down the efficiency of shampoo in the shower-
will leave with nothing
more than a clean head of hair
to fall from these, slowly
or quicker than that- depending on the mood of it. and things like
cancer.
and when the chemicals
find you
laying there alone. and sleepy
they will know to carry you outside into the yard. where the grass is
waiting
and the road is waiting
and the rain.
and the sound of cars.
and of trees.
big-fucking-trees.
roots gnarled meanly into the dark.rotty droppings of their boughs.
cold. mighty- dragging their bruisey knuckles against the
dirt
trees with ghosts
bigger than your thumbnails.
older than the grossest things in your
waste-basket.
tree-er than
tree.
and when the car swerves
and hits
i will be there.
sinking with you
into the the reservoir
doors closed.
belted.
and good
.but
i will be
and we
fall apart
don't speak
for days.
learn of the other too late.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 12:27 PM UTC
5 ways to optimize your talent
1)Love your talent
2)Constantly keep working on your talent
3)Respect your talent and never take it for granted
4)Never be boastful about your talent...humility is a must
5)Set yourself small goals with regards to your talent and challenge yourself once in a while
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 11:15 PM UTC
Seek to minimize thy excess,
but to optimize thy gain.
Seek thee Others who may well
opt to do the very same.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
You are the epitome of your own perception.
The way you gaze at yourself in the mirror, a constant distraction.
Critique and criticize, defile and optimize those flaws on your skin.
You cannot help but to formulate a hate for yourself within, you cannot help but draw up a diagram of those imperfections on your touched soul case.
It is not something you compare and appraise, it is a fixation of your own incarnation.
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 6:07 PM UTC
The choices we act upon are crucial,
Deciding our current and future conditions.
Whenever poisoned decisions are shaped,
People erode the wanted path that we crave.
Depleting progression at a drastic speed,
Destroying the ability to optimize growth.
Progress can only grow with the right fertilizer,
So avoid the toxic options which sabotage results.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 8:04 AM UTC
where to start
maybe where
i start
most days
dr phil says
we begin behaviors
for a reason
and they continue
for another
and i say
it’s usually
habit
some mornings
as i propel myself
down the sidewalk
i don't realize its
me moving my
own legs
*(and i wonder what would
happen if i just
stopped
fell to the concrete
let the city
claim me as its own)*
i know where
the puddles
form when it rains
on the asphalt terrain
been power walking
for four autumns
and i know
when to dodge them
i know where
the bus will hit
the potholes
and my body
tenses automatically
no thought
i know i carry
too much junk
around in my purse
but i’ve been
doing it so long
i don’t remember why
i thought i would need it
in the first place
i don’t need coffee
to wake me up
most mornings
but i drink it anyway
and if there’s a
box of wine in
the fridge i’ll
drink that to
*(i don’t know
why i’ve been
doing everything
all right but
can’t give myself
any credit for it)*
i love my commute
because i can think
and i hate it
because i never
come up with
anything new
i don't actually think
i used to be happier
in fact
i know i wasn't
but i had something
to tie myself to
espresso machine cleaner
drying my hands out
the smell of bleach
sizzle of cheese
scone dough under
my nails
buckets of carnations
armfuls of wine bottles
the hum of the
air conditioner
anchoring myself
to things
sounds and smells
objects and people
i wasn't happy then
but the nostalgia smoulders
and what
now?
the same
bus ride
every
day
three blue and
white screens
screaming phone
stacks of files
i like my job
and i'm happy with it
but there's always the
constant need to
optimize
make it better
the three year
itch is real
and the three year
itch is all i've
every known
the urge to
run
against all reason
i don't know
where i'd go
i just know
it's september again
and i'm
tired of it
Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 12:36 AM UTC