"parameter" poems
In statistics we learn that certain events
have undeniable independence,
which allows us to predict the success or failure
under certain circumstances
and I couldn't help but catch myself wondering
what the probability was that an attempt at taking my life might have
and I considered calculating the chance of success,
part of me hoping that parameter exceeded its counter part
while the other part silently prayed and dearly hoped
that the chance of failure knocked success out of the picture.
But these are independent events
and even after analyzing past trials
the only way to know for certain
would to be to carry it out myself.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance. Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate. Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive. Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations. Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis. Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics. Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime. Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush. Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply? Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious. Impromptu innuendo's juncture. Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital. Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies. Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary. Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties. Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain, propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued. The question remains on the tribal: how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them. It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician. Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it. Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation. Detinue perfective. Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution. Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare. Unicorn railway nails. Swarthy ******** swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
Laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous hypotaxis apomixis strive
Rainbow mare aura roan exude emote derive
Syntactical propinquity habitation harbinger harangue stoic hive
Colloquialism vernaculars prurient adage jargon idiom clichés jive
Mirador bartizan panorama stalwart bastion bulwark tableau live
Canny cleaver crafty cunning furtive sneaky stealthy connive
Poignant cogent piquant ephemeral effulgence temporal refraction arrive
Paradoxical dichotomy greaves gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts survive
Hectic mayhem , proximity parameter perimeter peripherals , annihilate rive
Zingy zesty zany zenithal azimuth entity zeal alive
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:11 PM UTC
"Surreal skeptic, cynical cryptic! Licentious lecheries fabulist façade fantasias. Wild eyed spectral serene. Dream of catenary concoctions, ethereal salacious conjugation, bridge the gap in metaphysical mystique. Erotica erectile errantry’s exserted protuberance is a kinesiology kleptomaniac with his embark embargo extraditions and his eventuation evocative execrations, a positive amalgamated anathema android of a terminus thrall. The shadow in the shade of the silhouette sojourn. The bailiff’s rakeness rails incarnate, unicorn railway nails and all. He will paint mirador bartizan panorama tableaus all over your proximity parameter perimeter peripherals. Force the enmity to acquiesce into impunity.” “Why this is not but an ogling ogre of an oligarchy omelet” she shrieked as he continued to tickle her. “Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugueness,” he said. “Positive orchestration renditions of transpositional interlude.” “Come here,” she said “let my clambering clamorous clangor write you a wield wile treatise expose’.” “The legions of Chinga da are battling the hoards of Gunga din saying ‘kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent’ , it’s sheer genocide. That plasty goop nosed Gumby ****** Gunga doesn’t stand a chance. Coax cacophony clout, catatonic phonics, grizzly grotto grouches all”, She squealed. “Now you’re gumption dreaming”, he chimed. “Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.”
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
I would like to ask you Russos, why Tony Stark is dead?
And who the **** dropped you both on the head?
Cap needs to apologise and his found family,
Nat needs less lies and strong female company.
Thor’s depression should not be overlooked
And where the **** did Pep learn to cook?
Stop letting Fury traumatise a child,
And for once let hope do something wild.
Stop dropping our favourite characters off cliffs
Stop saying you’ll fix it in ‘what if’.
Strange’s PTSD could not be cured by magic
And yes Clint’s story is tragic,
But that does not excuse his ****** spree.
Why aren’t more characters more like Rhodey?
Maybe try reading the comics your work should be based on
And we’ll try ignoring your obvious hard on,
For self-insert fanfiction with you as the token gay character.
Because representation doesn’t fit your parameter.
For all your stories I have one simple wish;
Stop making us cry over ******* like this.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 11:04 PM UTC
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance. Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate. Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive. Protractive analysis' dimensional delineation. Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis. Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics. Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime. Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush. Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply? Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious. Impromptu innuendo's juncture. Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital. Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies. Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary. Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties. Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain, propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued. The question remains on the tribal: how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them. It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician. Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it. Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation. Detinue perfective. Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution. Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare. Unicorn railway nails. Swarthy swastica swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
Circular Parameter
around my body
Golden ring
Getting in my vortex
Quite literally
Esther Hicks
Would like my tricks
Because it offers
Alignment
A practice that preaches
The sacred teachings
Of the Law of Attraction
Dancing in my hoop
Causes momentum
Of the greatest
joy in the action
Of light
I'll probably hula hoop
All the days of my life
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
Under the bridge, a once again
Tranced by the rhythm of a river
Chaos culminated to calm strains
Crucified and paraded in clarity
A push and I pushed deeper to sink
Your eyes lighted with a remedy
A redemption of persisting ache
A depth tucked and hidden in a mast
Unclaimed and reared, purely untainted
An essence delivered by a spirited past
Cocoon to a parameter of perception
A scent delicately brewed in aged truce
Under a bridge in a moment called now
Blocks scented with nitrogen spurred *****
A depart from the swan hypnotic dreams
A renegade of mottos, hollows of morrows
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
startup…
logon… password “Hello Friend”
K: Windows/system32> whoami
Description= reminder to update system
Exec start= bash(repeatedly) sleep-10; notify send “This Is Gonna Hurt”
K: Memories/ cd
Couldn’t load library “K: Memories/Hopeful/GoodTimes/v1997/launcher”
no such file or library
Invoked from within
Library path could not be found while executing
newtype.sendkeys {DELETE}
integrity check has failed
package requires ansinfo
(package ifneeded script)
def listen= {dummy}
ip config_release
User interface "you’re_not_losing_your_mind!” not found
NOT ENOUGH PARAMETERS OR PARAMETER ERROR!
User daemon reload - update script
Are you sure you want to delete? Y/N
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 7:47 PM UTC
"Surreal skeptic, cynical cryptic! Licentious lecheries fabulist façade fantasias. Wild eyed spectral serene. Dream of catenary concoctions, ethereal salacious conjugation, bridge the gap in metaphysical mystique. Erotica erectile errantry’s exserted protuberance is a kinesiology kleptomaniac with his embark embargo extraditions and his eventuation evocative execrations, a positive amalgamated anathema android of a terminus thrall. The shadow in the shade of the silhouette sojourn. The bailiff’s rakeness rails incarnate, unicorn railway nails and all. He will paint mirador bartizan panorama tableaus all over your proximity parameter perimeter peripherals. Force the enmity to acquiesce into impunity.” “Why this is not but an ogling ogre of an oligarchy omelet” she shrieked as he continued to tickle her. “Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugueness,” he said. “Positive orchestration renditions of transpositional interlude.” “Come here,” she said “let my clambering clamorous clangor write you a wield wile treatise expose’. The legions of Chinga da are battling the hoards of Gunga din saying", "kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent" , "it’s sheer genocide. That plasty goop nosed porker of a Gumby ******* ***** monger Gunga doesn’t stand a chance. Coax cacophony clout, catatonic phonics, grizzly grotto grouches all”, She squealed. “Now you’re gumption dreaming”, he chimed. “Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.”
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 1:26 AM UTC
I hate writing in pentameter,
That nagging old parameter reduces
The breadth of expression's diameter.
It's a barrier, a boundary, a cage built around me.
I'd rather cast off the impediment and
Allow my thoughts to sediment freely,
Really, I just can't dig it, ya feel me?
After a while, it gets so **** repetitive, and
I'll bet it did drive Shakespeare nuts
When he wrote all his sonnets, back
When lords rocked big wigs and their
Ladies wore bonnets. That's another thing
It's been used and abused for like six *********
Centuries, contemptibly does this old relic
Haunt us and daunt us and taunt us
Writing's not meant to be a chore,
It shouldn't bore and indenture me, but
Rather, set me free me and
Instead be adventure, see?
Wow.
I'm Somehow,
Feeling much better now.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
i wasn't quantifying, i can succumb to the parasite, which means that i either die, or the parasite dies with me; might as well call that a five o'clock shadow.- i have my insanity plea, what do the contending parties' have? an assumption? a Cluedo guess-grime rather than guess-work? no wait, make that a **** South Korean was the size of South America? i wish it was, taxes inconclusive? might posture for a yacht... and t-total a banana republic for all legitimate purposes for a shopping spree on coca - or is that's how taxing is done in this fair and decent country of Scandinavian restrictions concerning the feeble minded daddy-fuck-cares? Thailand was always the option with the quasis, ball sacked and tit-wanked-able: like am Englishman in Thailand, wanky-faced, with the Jersey Boys were moving beyond the Orwell parameter, i say Panzer, you tell me the **** brigade; you tell me pretty boys, you regurgitate me the ******* Bubonic Plague! am i understood?
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
There has been no days that I have not been surprised, delighted, and unfortunately, disappointed by human beings. So I ask this question: is it due to age that selfishness surfaces at its peak or plateau, or is it an affliction that is borne from an innate personality trait. The inability to see beyond their minimal parameter and impose their will upon those who has a much wider horizon is perhaps one of the most difficult obstacle to overcome. Let's just say I wish to beat the ************* **** out of a couple who are about 12-years old in mental maturity, pour black tar on them and light a ******* match
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
I tune you as piano keys.
I listen intently to their blare through billions of seconds
to make sure they have sound of suitable height
with thirteen-digit accuracy.
I found the arbitrary parameter,
in shimmering sun in your eyes,
in consonants in your name,
in literature you are reading
in your footsteps in sand,
in joint travels,
in energy of your heart,
in motion of your thighs,
in your grace and beauty,
in the tone of your voice.
I am not able to say a word of admiration
for the sound of your body and soul.
Piano closed in such small creature.
Only I can play on you.
Instinctively, we escape from reality in music.
I try to focus on vision of notes
when I am distracted by your radiant face.
You sensed I play first time.
Light in your eyes gives me confidence.
Love is the music of your existance.
Life is secret of black and white keys.
I like when you are mostly undressed
wearing only underwear
without feeling any shame,
with your mind filled only with sounds
and touch of my hands.
The notes fell in torrnents.
Where am I?
I try to put excited pieces together .
Burning sensation in my skin gives new symphony,
overtones as powerful as waves of ocean.
Let it happen.
The blood needs to flow with music.
I barely breath.
I never felt like that.
Each movement felt like pure ecstasy.
The water of our sensation grows hotter again.
I am all fired up.
Play with me, my love.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
I met a woman,
On my daily jog.
She was my lookalike,
Walking with a dog.
The parameter that surrounded,
It changed in that moment.
We were somewhere else,
Change of a second or may be a minute.
I saw her ghost-like skin,
I saw the redemption she was seeking for her sins.
I saw a battered mind,
I saw those dead but piercing eyes.
I tried to communicate,
Couldn't read her mind.
She tried as well,
Then she vanished from my sight.
It was an experience,
I can't explain.
It stopped me there,
Lured me to see,what I'm trying to gain.
I knew the path I was walking,
Will get me there.
Where I was someone,
That I can't seems to bare.
Knowing what's going to happen,
Left me reeling.
Knowing there was a possibility of loosing;
Everything that I hold dear,
Everything that I want near.
It took me a moment to realise,
There wasn't a ghost I was seeing,
Just a trick of my unconscious mind.
It was an awakening,
I didn't knew I was waiting for,
It was an opportunity,
To change what could happen and maybe being more.
It was a blessing.....
And it was a curse.
It changed the facts and the future...
And everything that could've occurred.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
One must give credit out to one and all,
humans are, after all, territorial.
A gold star, pat on the back or sing their praise,
sets a parameter around their stage.
So thank me, for getting your projects done,
I realize your dating the bosses son.
To climb the ladder of success you must,
tread firmly upon the rest of us.
But, remember the steps will work both ways,
The time may come, I'll be your boss one day.
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 4:50 PM UTC
Our Father, who art in heaven
I have some confessions.
I am terrified.
Of what?
Everthing.
I break into plague-like bubonic hives when I worry about THE future, my future,
any future because it does not involve any of the nows.
Moments of newness and unclarity, of strangers and distant conversations of topics I know not of yet,
weeks in agony trying to earn money for rent,
days waiting for a sign, in the form of a plus or minus, to dictate whether or not
a parasite grows in my womb.
Father, I sin daily
for I am a glutton
in my eyes.
I see flaws in my appearence,
though no horrible disfigurements exist;
in my thoughts, this is even more unforgivable,
the invention of sorrows that are not mine,
the pitiful desire for perfection.
I feel I do not deserve the wonders that I have.
Grant me the ability to feel secure and grateful
rather than worthless and guilty.
Oh brother, woe is nobody
for all is too good to waste,
yet nearly impossible to entirely feel.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 9:57 PM UTC
Good cannot exist without Bad,
No Light without Darkness,
Says the learned, Bull **** I say,
Human Justification all that is,
Good is absence of Bad,
Not the counteracting force,
Not the Balancing Parameter
True Good is a hard find,
You know why ?
Good cannot be Glorified without Bad,
Good cannot be Immortalised without Bad,
A Good that needs Glory,
is Never Good.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 4:29 AM UTC
*I believe, that there's a place void;
Of all sickness and the body's ailment.
I believe, in a land with only souls,
With only peace which can't be felt.
I believe, in a universe with no stars,
No moons and with no galaxies.
I believe, in a universe with no knowledge
And without any parameter associated with.
I believe, in a universe where reason,
And logic don't get endorsed. Only peace.
I believe, that this peace can't be felt.
A state of feeling nothing. Like being dead.
I believe, that this is my heaven,
Where I shall go after my tenure here.
I believe that I can only feel nothing.
Only pure and not perceivable peace.*
-The Silent Poet
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 8:30 AM UTC
There comes a time,
When a task prevails.
Challenging our skills,
Urging us to push,
From deep within;
To explore...
Through the dark spell,
Until we find light!
And then begins a journey...
Sometimes high and sometimes low,
Often worries crease a brow,
And then again
Laughter springs alive!
...new horizons
...new people
...new lifestyle
Expands the spectrum of life!
The chalice of achievement,
Glows with success
Through the days and nights,
Even while at work,
We make friends...
A parameter of home
Just redefined!
There comes a time,
When we have to bid,
Adieu
Pain reeks deep within,
But memories -
So fond...
So golden...
Forever shall gladden thy heart!
Spreading a smile
Keeping us connected
All through the distance!
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 3:34 AM UTC
Nobody lives
In the Here and Now
We live in a past
As it rips and trips
It's way
Through a future
Like an arrow through air
Never actually existing
In any absolute
Parameter
Of space or time
Hurtling through
The ever-present
Modulating waves
Of the eminent existence
Like the waves
Of water of an ocean
Upon meeting its own
Inevitable resistance.
Zone
The rocky shores up ahead
With nowhere to continue
Falling back
In futile retreat
Absorbed
Battered
By a past
Catching up at last
As the once
Forward-thinking
Now..... Ever shrinking
Mind
Of the actual
Factual
Suddenly reactional
Mortal
Who's
Primal human thoughts
That were
In the millionth
Of a millionth of a billionth
Of a second
scattered
When they were splattered
Upon
Slamming headlong
Into the time wall of Eternity
Like the seawall of an ocean where the Timeless spirit lives
Spinning out Reams and reams of time to be flung
Blown Away in the nothingness
Smiling as it works
time and time
Forevermore
listening to the past
As it
crashing upon the shore
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
**I write coz I have to
You write coz you have to**
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
The very last person on your mind before you fall asleep is either the reason for your happiness or your pain
It's a funny thing to think,
Pain and Happiness
In such a close parameter.
It is so hard to tell,
who is which.
It makes me question, everything.
How many days was it actually pain?
How many times was I hurting myself more?
Where is the happiness I was wishing for?
Happy thoughts travel through my mind as the moon rises.
The stars illuminate across the sky,
just as the perceived happiness is in my mind.
Could my happiness be entangled in the pain?
Are the strings of my emotions being weaved,
to the point of not knowing?
The power of knowledge.
Knowledge is power.
The happiness of pain.
Pain is happiness?
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 3:58 AM UTC
***
Confuses lust with love.
Respect.
Strips lust from love.
Lust.
*Demands love to get naked.
if obeyed not,
shows love as no love.
and if obeyed yes,
shows love as no love still.*
Love.
*Knows *** is worth of respect
as much respect as
its lover is worth of.
And with it, everything could stand preserved.*
You.
**Use *** not as a parameter of love.
Or it shall be used as a parameter of you.*
---qyf
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC