"orginally" poems
Get up and dance
Put on those moccasins that make you move from out in France
Into the Indies then Polynesian isles.
Pour the green skies upon those frozen and dried out.
Bring gratitude to those whom frequently pout
And the mission to gain commission
How the mantras from mamas mouth
Shoot from the sky.
So sly the way we will slip into the nostalgic reminisce
Lights on the red carpet
And the set of lies
Are we doing this?
We don't mention How Buddha ******
Budapest in the name of the most auromatheraputic
And orginally
tell the Chinese nike labourers
who do this.
Though they suit me,
I resuit this with prudent force for those law benders
Of the b.a.r.
We will cough on tough tycoons and yet bow to stars.
Oh my legend, how far have we looked and have we come
Jumping out of the Nintendo Nes(t)
We have entertained our self enough
We've won son.
But find me lagging on a wooden broom
Brimming on the outskirts of your psyche
Just when you thought
Sike you didn't not cite me.
Please bibliograph my flight plan or pattern
And as you gaze upon the moon I make my second meander on Saturn
The orbit
In finding sudden satisfaction with norbit
I've asked. How bliss is ignorance?
We blend all the blinding lights of the prism and still white and ****
Siss
Disdain on dose dat ain't domestic
Still ******* kicking and
My legs are there to test this
Theory
and jeering with slack
I'm looking back.
I fear the peers of tired whites and blacks
Those that act that they have nothing to loose
By continually hitting the snooze
Oh we will leave you like leaves grounded in the grooves
These four leaf clues
Clovers, slipping out of my palms
Mark you like wolverines claws
Like jar heads
Jumpin in to the jabber jagged jaw of jaws
Subservient marine.
Prate in the truth of those words until you(they) know just what they mean.
Ya seen?
Good?
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
Chocolate hearts melting
In a sweltering heat
Crushed by sticky fingers
Licked by insecure tongues
Little bird battered
Never learnt to fly
It will not soar now
Someone clipped the wings
Mother Earth woke up
She took a look around
Saw nothing had changed
Then she went back to bed
Young man fell in love
She was a serial killer
Let her have her way
She tore out his heart
Poet looked for words
Found his pen was dry
Could he comprehend
He had a mental block
Does anybody understand
What I am trying to say
I think I will step back
Into the well of madness
Copyright Chris Smith 2012 (orginally written on www.apolloblessed.ning.com )
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 5:45 PM UTC
My state of mind is disastrous
My words are jumbled and blasphemous
When I speak it's a catastrophe
I'm lost in this reality
My mind is in constant motion
To these poems, my fullest devotion
To share who I am inside
With my mind opened wide
These words just don't make sense
These thoughts I must condense
My mind is a bomb, so confused
With each rhyme it will slowly defuse
I must pour who I am into these words
My troubles will divide by thirds
I need to sort these thoughts out
Before I forget what my message was orginally about
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
When did conversation become argumentation?
This form of abuse derived from self irritation,
just drives me in the opposing direction of where you'd like me to go,
there's many destinations that I haven't been shown,
cultivation leading me to venture on my own.
You push and shove for me to grow up already,
but agitation won't make it easier to speed through others lined up in front of me.
If you could just see how much I've been through,
most of it alone, if you could view just how far I've kept motivation,
then someday we might actually get close to were we've been heading this whole time.
Line after line and you have yet to add any up,
you haven't seen my determination, for you just blame it on luck.
Whim did consideration become mediation?
I've lived every waking moment, just for your approbation,
now, everything I've done is incorrect?
The treacherous miles I've overcome are now obliviation I'm your head,
every turn I make just ends up being another mistake.
Something along the lines of aggretion,
which in turn left us were we orginally started, or stopped.
You always try and take me where you want me though I've come so far already.
Sometimes the places you unexpectedly end up are where you're actually supposed to be.
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC
All I need is a whiff
Of You
And I expound a million poems
On bare tree limbs
innumerable theories of multi-dimensional possibilities
I explode into the wind surfing with countless wings
And I sing in languages
I had never heard or learnt before
All I need is a whiff
Of You
And suddenly it's spring
The stark days of empty eyes and
void within
The dark days of drought upon my heart
And blue necrosis of my pen
Are things of the past
All I need is a whiff
Of you
And Like unfinished paintings on a
Rain washed golden coast
Washed clean, shining,
I am a plush new page
aflush with spring
Easily forgotten the eons of glacial silence
I am ready to somersault and sing
A whiff of you
And I spin parallel universes
Always You my emperor & I the empress
Repeats in each world I create
And here I am espousing paeans
Of what's turning out to be of epic proportions
Of orginally my two para hymns
All I need is a whiff
And I know not where and how or even why
these Thoughts come flooding in
And I am rolling out an endless red carpet
of ceaseless verses
To soften your footfall
in my dreams
All I need is a whiff
And I am in eternal spring
I am a tender shoot racing to embrace the sky
A vein of gold - lode, created in an instant
And I go wild I am on a rampage
Waking ravenous
I am a dictionary of hungry cravings
Despite last night's sumptuous fare
All I need is a whiff
of you
And I am a turmoil
All my theories stand de-constructed
My defences dismantled
My spiritual pursuit mis-directed
My lofty claims in dust
I am a muddy urn of unfulfilled desires
A whiff
All I need is a whiff..
------
©SeemaKJayaraman
Seemakj
Mumbai
17 Mar 2020
Nov 18, 2024
Nov 18, 2024 at 9:42 PM UTC
To spend a lifetime wishing for things is to spend a lifetime with your head in the clouds. Instead of wishing, focus your energy into getting what you orginally wanted. Wishing for things is almost like expecting to win the lottery, it's possible but highly unlikely.
To spend a lifetime always wanting more is to spend your life chasing the next upgrade and no matter what you have it will never be enough. Instead, stop for a moment and appreciate what you do have. Everything in this life is precious, if we're always thinking of more then surely what we have now is meaningless.
To spend a lifetime comparing is the worst of all these. To compare is to question what you have or have not. Comparing will always leave you with bitter feelings. If you have something others do not, you will look down on them and think you are better. To look at others and see what you do not have, you will feel envy and doubt you're greatness.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 8:25 PM UTC
poets are less than poorly organised
singing potentials,
they're scouts...
they're the people science forgot,
we're scouts foremost,
we discopver language arenas
that people have yet to translate into
mathematical semblance,
or the authenticity of scientific
proof...
poetry forgot what it
was orginally intended to be...
what it was, at first:
a case of prometheus...
we scout the land,
bringing back the basic crude
materials that are worth investigating...
we do not possess
paradigm of powers left to rest...
yes, we're lazy,
but we have only cowered in
being exhausted by exploring
unfathomable areas of interest,
tongue first, eyes second, mind last...
who are we?
begging lyricists?!
really? that's all we are,
and forever will be?
you want a ******* sing-along,
go to a pub and recite
your little japanese
enrichment prodigy that's
the karaoke...
i have a purpose:
words explore first,
what numbers subsequently explain
into a rigid format...
savvy?!
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC