"oscillation" poems
sure she's likeheaven but angels stillfall
sometimes
the risk is worth it all.
perfection or illusion
what an enticing delusion
nonetheless
the question proves a fight
do i potentially complicate her life
further
my thoughts reach oscillation
certain until uncertainty's persuasion
descends
a thought like no other
and soon follows another
quickly
they bounce through my mind
now it's even harder to find
a decision
left between cognitive dissonance
then suddenly in this instance
Nothing.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
I ain’t got no intimate, ain’t got no stiletto heels
Ain’t got no Lsd, ain’t got no smack
Ain’t got no partners, ain’t got no drill
Ain’t got no slapstick, ain’t got no hanky—panky
Ain’t got no Lsd, no slot to mount
Ain’t got no castrato, ain’t got no crumpet
Ain’t got no conjoined twins, ain’t got no nuns or eunuchs
Ain’t got no whipcord, ain’t got no adoration
Ain’t got no ******** ain’t got no stimulant
Ain’t got no ******
Ain’t got no oscillation, no shags
No uniform, no parts
No smack, no drill
No partners, no peccadillo
Ain’t got no stimulant
Ain’t got no whipcord, no propagators
No titbits, no intimate
I jabbered, I ain’t got no uniform, no hanky—panky
No peccadillo, ain’t copulated till one is blue in the face to have a funny feeling
And I ain’t got no ******
Oh, but what have I copulated, oh, what have I copulated
Let me tell what I copulated and nobody’s going to enlarge telescopic
I got my ***** on my face
My extra—sensory perceptions, my knobs
My ****** peckers and my ********
I got my stuck—out tongue
I got my tentacle, my proboscis
My ***** my *******
My thingummies, my cockles of the heart and my posterior
I got my ***********
I got my thingummies, my talons
My ball and socket joints, my forelegs
My hooves, my pincers and my snorker
Got my crest
I got ***** I’ve inseminated cheerleaders
I’ve got bottomgremlins and hacksawhoodoo
And Mephistophelian juggernauts too like you
I got my ***** my pistil
My ESP, my knobs
My vaginas, my peckers and my ********
I got my stuck-out tongue
I got my tentacle, my proboscis
My ***** and my *******
My ***** my ***** and my posterior
I inseminated my ****** sorbet
I got my thingummies, my talons
My ball and socket joints, my forelegs
My hooves, my pincers and my snorker
Got my crest
I got my ***** I got my slipperiness, my *****
I got *****
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:29 PM UTC
Most of us are familiar with
The escapism from pain.
For an easy and cheap solution
Or because of advices of the
Doctors, psychologs;
Most of us get a cheap piece of matter
Triggering the oscillation of dopamine,
Making most of us addicted to them
As well as being harmed
As the result of their side effects.
Even the teens intoxicate things
Causing these things.
Some of call this signalling matter
Nicotine or alcohol.
Others call drugs as well as
Medicines having great side effects on
Our psychology that means
Our minds, feelings and importantly
Our souls.
How these piece of matter
Deletes your pain?
Simply, by affecting your
Biologic structure.
This causes the cage of
Emotions and behaviours
Freezing your actions and thoughts
As well as mostly
The cage itself.
This stabilization of actions therefore,
Decreases the capability of
Varying the actions.
What you can do,
You are capable to do.
Capacity is the power.
Lesser power lesser creativity.
All in all
Nothing more than robotic step
You all do in all.
By lesser creativity,
What you do becomes
Completely addiction.
No good, no bad;
Only the robotic step
You all do.
So subject becomes object of
External distraction.
In the hellish world,
You are distracted to hell.
A piece of addictive matter
Ends with
Painful robotic suffering
Until you fade away.
But the music, music, music
Is the harmonious effective vibes of
Yourself.
This music can do anything,
Instead of freezing you only if an only.
This music can do anything,
By transforming the self by
Twisting you through making you
Its beautiful voice.
We classify the music
In account of its causes.
But material cause is not the music.
Instead, the elegance of meaning
As well as the shining effect
Is the music.
It is the music that will
Create the best in us!
Make the best of us!
Hold the best of us!
Than you may say,
I want music but this is poetry.
Than I say,
Poetry is the music of the words.
It is the music of life
Will the shining ray of creativity.
It is the music of life
Will the kingdom of heaven.
Its the nectar in form of music
Being the music of nectar,
Becoming the nectar of the music!
Music creating music
In seem of poem.
Catch it, follow it!
Better than any drugs.
Music creating music
In seem of poem.
Say it! Sing it!
Better than anything!
It is the best, you desire!
We call it, you are welllllllllll...
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 10:32 PM UTC
Often, on quiet days, I wade through forest paths to the outer most regions of town. Close to the brink of wilderness where the humming sounds of cars and popping noises of God knows what can still be observed. Yet, the pure land surrounding has been blessed to be untouched and unblemished. Here, I retreat. I circle the bend and climb a hill until I reach an isolated plateau of nature reserve. Where natural phenomenon rise and cease in incessant and lullabic oscillation. As if to unplug my mental cords and to store away my worry, fear, concepts and systems. I reach a haven of unity. Although I own no land for myself, out here I can't help but feel this lost land of paradise is fully mine. However, I would like to do away with the notion of possession and self and here I can get closer to doing so. As if I were a small, beautiful water droplet being plucked from that cruel water resistant surface and to glide gracefully back into an encompassing body of water where the temperature is the state of my mind. And on occasion I notice another solemn being, clearly human, stumbling down the same path I had managed to carve and from atop the raised plateau, I can watch them. They circle and turn back, but I can't help but wonder if they feel the same as I do. And sometimes I think to approach them slowly and calmly and inquire about philosophical concepts. But I wish not to disturb what is so beautifully held in the essence of the silent forest. I would wonder what knowledge or truths these men and women had attained during this life and if it were to resonate with my own. Or possibly to share. In the town and at the refill station I dare not to inquire about such trivial matters but instead I nod my head or note the weather. But I cannot help but imagine and sometimes even feel that there is something deep within us and the space and entities surrounding us that is ineffable and profound. Yet it seems that it is lost in the thicket of ideas, concepts, and biased reality just like the sunlight in a dense, cold, unlit forest. And I have convinced myself that if we could clear even enough of the baggage we carry as entrapped souls that we could create a more beautiful, serene, and harmonious state of unity and achieve transcendent heights of being right here and now.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Life is unavoidably ecstatic,
at every scale, degree, level, dimension,
an oscillation,
season to season
day to night to day to night
cycle by cycle
wax by wane
feeling
by feeling
to feeling
always moving
both ways
all ways
always
crest, trough,
cresting-
falling,
lifting-crashing
riding, riding out
and in
and through
and by
and by,
bursting..
I could explode,
I might explode,
I did explode,
I do explode
though I'm contained,
boundary by boundary,
transcending,
including,
moving
always moving
both ways
all ways
always
rainbows weaving spectral waving,
rivers raging, bodies growing,
organismic, oceanic, orgiastic
in-ing, out-ing,
coming-going,
holding, letting go,
flowing, flowing, flows
surrendered, building,
pursing, pleasing,
pangs, paining,
ripping, breaking,
sorrows to joys to shade to shine,
as chasms to substantiation,
as abyssal to full,
as burn to burning,
to smoke etheric,
to ashes, to ground,
all passions
as passions
passion
pumping, filling, releasing
on-ing, off-ing,
alive-dying-birthing-living,
living as moving
always moving,
transforming
breath by breath
by breathing, being
this to that,
a changeling,
changing
always moving
always moving
both ways
all ways
always
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
Ushered into the breathable
Strung on undefinable threads,
Life's atmospheric interlacing;
A weaving, hidden to opaque sight
Subtle ties, loosen and relax,
Chest enmeshed entirely,
Titillating summations of Earth's enthusiasm
Entwine in activities of the lungs and heart
Pumping action, energy, growth,
Air feeds fire, and power, and blood,
Burning from the inside, animated,
Billions of cellular suns, throbbing
Light in the garden of the body,
Alive with murmurs, and hums
Of love, all of time, and space,
Moved to produce this oscillation
Ecstatic the body expands in swells,
Ecstatic the body contracts in swells,
Ecstatic are the waves exchanging,
Ecstatic is the surge of breath
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
Respectability boredom
The basis of your
very happy marriage.
Added to it my painful
everlasting suffering.
My heart-ache,
and heart-break.
It all came to it's
inevitable end.
Everyone as everything
comes to a holt the"end."
I rolled your rushed up early dice back!
Rolled before I could understand the magic you were the deceitfulness the mind **** and hunting game
You now rip back
what greedy ones have planned for you
From that drunken ***** wild bird of paradise door you left ajared.
This universal law applies
as a balancing skale!
It just never fails
It's all an ever
pendulum Oscillation.
~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Copy Rights apply.
10-2020.
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 2:06 AM UTC
i exist somewhere between the kick drum and the snare
i am the blood thundering in our veins
i am the rhythm that gives us life
i am the 375 nanometers of ultraviolet light shining down on you
i am the space between the notes and the silence before the drop
i am oscillation, reverberation, undulation of bassline
i am rattling ribcage from excess decibels
i am titinnitus waiting to strike.
3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine, Lysergic acid diethylamide, tetrahydrocannabinol, ethanol, benzoylmethylecgonine; choose your poison so that you may enjoy me better
i am the sweat that slicks our skin and keeps us cool
i am the longing look that leaps from eye to eye
i am mellifluous melody, motivator of movement, master of mind.
i am the sea of strangers you find yourself lost in, minimally clad bodies moving in ways you didn't know were possible.
i am the fire-poi spinner, the LED hula-hooper, the melbourne-shuffling madman, the obnoxious bro, the ancient hippie, the obviously underage girl, the idiot overdosing in the corner, and the person wearing more pony beads than clothes.
i am the rave.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
From all around
They come crawling like crease on the bed sheet
Deeply plunged in me, I
Have held a corner a bit higher with my teeth
I should lift my self too
But my abdomen is heavy
And navel is tied
---
After shower
It is ecstatic to burst into flames
Long hairs falling on the ear
Feels like roots in the head
You can fall out if you shake it off
You are constantly transforming
**** rug, beats etc. etc.
---
Now you are expert
In how to walk on water with your nose closed
It is dangerous to keep your foot in the ring
Hoping for walls made out of flammable dust
There is spark in the snap of fingers
Dark cold in the chest
Speed is like snail
Slowly slowly
*********** is natural
---
After the morning yawn
Everywhere falls very delicate leaves
I want to treasure them
I'll put them under my pillow
Tiring courting of night is sitting beside
At the end i counted total spinal vertebra,
Total was 22
Still i needed help to wrap my leg around
'Limitless' saying waves you up on high oscillation
Loneliness is blissful
Silence is for you to fill
You are allowed to catch your breath if you can
---
You have to loose width of your chest
In attempts to be singular
There is ally full of black color
Red at twilight
Glowing silver at midnight
They come to see, from far countries
And some princess dips her legs in
You start dripping from her heel
Just like a sweat
You have to leave your blackness on her body
Cause only white sweat is allowed here
She gives you a mesmerizing kiss
You keep unfolding it
With both your hands between legs
Both legs are in north and south
And navel
Navel is already tied.
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 12:34 AM UTC
Night Train, travel through the world unknown
The black hills with a maroon sky thick behind it
The metallic sound of friction valiantly losing battle to the poignant silence
Night Train, write an epic of the hands that cup around the eyes
Of the eyes that talk to the distant light
Of the lights that blink and the ones that stay still
Night Train, don't slow down for each breath falls faster than the wind outside
Night Train, don't slow down for the still is more piercing than the dark blades of grass lying far below
The rhythmic oscillation of the half sleeping bodies stacked one above the other
The threatening aura of the stiff backbones stoically awake
The lone observer is lost in the nightly delusion
Night Train, chronicle a dark fantasy of the broken fragments the night narrates
Night Train, stop, send a jolt, deaden the incantations
Before the dawn or its harbingers intrude
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 2:16 AM UTC
Our hands act like Newton's Cradle;
bumping into each other like there's no before or no after;
just a constant force of just wanting to hold your hand
until I find the courage to let the friction just be,
and the heat just dissipates throughout our fingertips.
We let the tension of our feelings fall and the oscillation is no more.
It'll just be us; wrapping that constant energy within our fists;
preserving awkward unplanned first kisses.
Nervousness filled to the brim of my smile,
to my fingertips painting on the canvas of your cheek.
Just you and I, and streetlight spotlights
tracing our figures on a pitch navy night;
just waiting for the perfect moment to arrive.
And like devastating car wrecks;
it seems to come so slowly, yet so suddenly.
As the moments of uneasy tension begin to sandcastle its way to glory;
the waves begin to greet them in its wake.
And the kinetic energy of my lips greeting yours is lost
in the awkward, sweet silence that fills the street.
And the heat from the butterflies fluttering against the insides of our stomachs
allow us to exchange nervous laughs and mysterious smiles.
And we begin to taste the sweet, soft shock of each other’s lips.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC
My tides move in waves
Of reactive oscillation.
Bound to your momentum
By threads of gravitation.
Gravity, like rainfall . . .
I, never yours,
And you, never mine.
Each day I etch a tally,
And try to act surprised
That another day
Has come and gone
In which the sun forgot to shine.
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
Last night when I came home, I noticed a very delicious
fragrance enveloping me. The jasmine was not in bloom,
so I knew it couldn't be that stealing through window drafts,
and the incense sticks were long extinguished.
Was it Lakshmi? Her divine fragrance perfumes the three
worlds and I sensed an unusual lightness in the atmosphere.
This morning I still detected a unique aroma, though not as pronounced.
I went outside, in the backyard, to let the dog out and observed two orange speckled butterflies dancing near her doghouse. I shooed them away protectively. As I did this, they moved over to another location, but one hovered near my hands.
It fluttered around my hands for a good minute. I was able to hear,
witness and breathe in the amazing oscillation of it's fragile wings.
Gorgeous mosaic patterns glittered between the rays of sunlight bathing
our golden communion. I could clearly see its ebony face peering curiously up at me.
Soon a third butterfly joined the party, and a trinity of sweetness pulsated close. After a while they all took off in different directions.
Later, I reflected while swinging in the garden jhoola how wonderfully connected we all are.
This Unity transcends the mental, emotional and physical barriers, preconceptions and dimensions of our ordinary awareness.
Love has a lot to do with it, respect, peace, truth and right conduct too.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Skin
Still sensing
Still sore
From scratches
Still sensitive
To sound
Like shockwaves E D N
S N I G
Repeated
Repeated
******** ******** ******** ********
Sensations of
V I B R A T I O N
H Y D R A T I O N
Tongue torn
Sore
From tickling licking
Skin with sharp
E
D
G
E
D stubbles
Sore *******
Nipples sore from
Hardening
From bites
And from
Fingertips fondling
And sore muscles
Aching from f
l
e
x
i
n
g
Arching
Repeated contraction contraction
X
CONTROL A
M
I
L
of C
Fire
Sore sensitive
Succulents
Sore from oscillation
Provocation
Still soaked
In saps
D R
I
P
P
I
N
G
Devilish desire
The mind's eye
Sore
From mimicking
Mo ve ments
Imprinted
In memory
Driving me
MAD
I want more...
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
~
*I'm an exit wound
I'm a numinous obstacle
I'm about to make landfall
I'm about to break free
I'm a nerve ender
A fascinator
A purifier
A world populator
And I'm about to break through
I'm the push and pull
I'm a counter argument
I'm dissonance resistance
I'm viral replication
I'm about to break out
I'm a singularity
I'm a spark
I'm the perfect detonator
To mind and heart
And I'm about to break up
I'm a simulacra
I'm an oscillation
Made of breath only
I'm a living, moving imprint
Of what no longer is
Yet somehow seems to be*
~
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 2:02 PM UTC
hard-wood rocking-horse
between thighs of porcelain white.
sweat drips, rhythmic oscillation
of bones that ferrociously grind.
salty, soft, sweet-wine lips;
heavy, humid, breath of steam.
closed-eyes search for surrender,
and signs of admitted defeat.
hymns of pleasure-ridden-falsettos echo;
eruptive moans reverberate in diaphragms;
trapped in throats, restricted groans
fight their way out of closed mouths.
tearing through flesh
arrows find their targets:
bombarded zones left unguarded
are continually pillaged without regret.
hard-wood rocking-horse
still ****** between thighs
of ruined statues of goddesses
made of porcelain, so white.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
i only went in for the chocolate fountain
not because i was hungry
i just wanted to stare at it
the velvety mahogany
liquid polyurethane oozing
i stuck my hand in
to feel it
warm and loving
embracing every pore
and thats when they grabbed me
chocolate dripping from each digit
onto a magenta floral pattern
adorning the space beneath
the feet of the sheep
head long
dragged
gazing above me
toward gaudy chandeliers
with the clanging and luminous oscillation
of one armed bandits
secure in my peripherals
i was ejected
lifting myself
i left a very ****** looking hand-print
saluted the floor security
scowling in my vacinity
and tasted my finger
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
Our hands act like Newton's Cradle;
bumping into each other like there's no before or no after;
just a constant force of just wanting to hold your hand
until I find the courage to let the friction just be,
and the heat just dissipates throughout our fingertips.
We let the tension of our feelings fall and the oscillation is no more.
It'll just be us; wrapping that constant energy within our fists;
preserving awkward unplanned first kisses.
Nervousness filled to the brim of my smile,
to my fingertips painting on the canvas of your cheek.
Just you and I, and streetlight spotlights
tracing our figures on a pitch navy night;
just waiting for the perfect moment to arrive.
And like devastating car wrecks;
it seems to come so slowly, yet so suddenly.
As the moments of uneasy tension begin to sandcastle its way to glory;
the waves begin to greet them in its wake.
And the kinetic energy of my lips greeting yours is lost
in the awkward, sweet silence that fills the street.
And the heat from the butterflies fluttering against the insides of our stomachs
allow us to exchange nervous laughs and mysterious smiles.
And we begin to taste the sweet, soft shock of each other’s lips.
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
I built my hopes
On dreams of you
With parapets
And spires
Lofty columns
Reaching into
Amaranthine skies
But castles are not
Meant to stand
Atop unsure foundations
And these walls
Become so fragile
With your cyclic
Oscillation
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC
winds of change began to blow
whirling in a different circulation
was the onset in alternate show
we did see its reverse oscillation
it would always be the same drift
in blew the current not familiar
inevitable this variable lilt's shift
instead of the ever so similar
the old guards twirl was replaced
timely this course of rotation
their admin's were all displaced
to permit substitute invocation
heaving with a breath of force
heralding another direction
how they did like this divorce
haling the swing of inflection
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 11:04 PM UTC
You send your words,
Directed to my ears.
My eyes they read,
Somehow they fear.
I imagine the others;
how they'd react.
I wish not to retalliate.
If I can forgive you,
I should forgive myself.
That agony, directed:
in reverse: through reflections:
of infinity mirrors: with refractions:
reverberated light: quantum waves:
perpetual motion: unviolated entropy:
Let me hold that forgiveness,
Let me offer it to myself,
I want to take the hostia,
The sacrificial bread,
The holy communion.
Chanel divine grace
Into my inner being.
Give me utmost peace.
Allow me such union,
I will consume from the chalice.
spilled liquidity: ripples in water:
splashing kineticism: frequency oscillation:
oceanic dispersion: moistened vibration
wettened wavelengths: aquatic repetition:
Will it not dilute?
Will this spirit stay mine?
Will it not disorient?
Will this wisdom remain?
Will it not expire?
Will this solemnity be?
Give me the strength,
I implore my higher self
If it is to exist
That is.
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
When you think you know, that’s you losing it.
When you write this down, that’s you erasing it.
Moments pass empty like the wind.
Oscillations are left.
People fear base oscillation.
They fear the quiet of the world.
If it gets too quiet during the night, we might just slip away.
If you are too loud in the morning, you won’t know what to say.
So the prophet sits alone.
On a mountain top and is shown
A larger picture
Reflecting his own.
Walking towards the mountains are saints
Unified sacrifices are made.
The God’s blood is paid,
As the Devil digs the grave.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
So steady. So stable.
So grounded.
Patience matched by none.
Especially not me.
Air and water -
births francium hearts.
Eyes of blue -
ever nubivagant.
White picket fence -
of your smile.
At home among the trees.
The forests in your eyes.
Waxing gibbous perpetuating -
bleeding roses.
A tsunami of womanhood.
Savage oscillation.
My darling obelisk.
Unwavering strength.
A waltz of hearts
to guide me home.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 7:01 AM UTC