Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Michael Marchese Jul 2018
I need only to smirk and you’re mine
Anytime
If it’s god that you want
I have dozens in mind
Devilishly divine
Bending time like a grandeur delusional
Spine  

In a mad hatter ectoplas-mystical slime
A prismatic drug addict’s first nursery rhyme
Of accursed hearse verses of graphic design
Now to lay to rest intellect spectacles musing
Of selves glorified more than those of my choosing
To deify Destiny’s
Deathly serenity
Plentifully sending me vibrant surprises
And penning my ending in violent demises
Disguises surmised by the climate arises
Girl always there riding my similar waves
As I try to save face digging mechanized graves

But the cloud tentacles
To the depths
Drag me down
To demented ascension
Black holes in the ground
Where disciples of light
And my huntress in white
Vivify me by day
Resurrect me at night
To instruct and deduct
Reasoning in a state
Of a being supreme
Contemplating its fate
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
i could tell you how certain stations on the London underground
smell, but i can't capture you this smell...
a bit like in that film Perfume: scents are lost over time,
with regards to places -
                            unlike the eternal pine forest...
or the zest of lemon...
                                         those are universal scents...
one could and humanity has: created a synthetic answer
and copied these scents... made synthetic tastes
a whole chemistry of a posteriori scents and tastes...
Kant and chemistry are a perfect combination...
given the classical schematic:

analytical                         analytical
a priori                             a posteriori
apples grow on               tomatoes:
trees and                          categorised as fruits          
carrots grow                    yet used as vegetables
in the earth                      the analysis being
since apples                     even though they grow
are a fruit                         on something: trees,
while carrots                    bushes, vines...
are a root vegetable,       analysis has found that
ergo?                                 they are better treated
all vegetables                   as vegetables rather than
grow in the earth            fruits, since one rarely cooks
while all fruits                 savoury meals with fruit
grow on trees                  yet the tomato is used
or shrubs                         plentifully in savoury cooking


synthetic                          synthetic
a priori                           a posteriori
■, ▲                                   in light of the given examples
(geometry)                        in the realm of the analytical
and the propositions       a priori: that fruits grow on
that come with                 trees or bushes
them:                                  there's the pineapple
e.g. c² = a² + b²                   anomaly:
or physics:                         pineapples grow on the ground
e = mc²                                (in the ground) like cabbage-heads
                                            grow in much the same fashion...

i always struggle with the a posteriori conceptualization...
in the original i wrote as can be seen above...
are tomatoes the byproduct of
analytical a posteriori knowledge?
i.e. they are fruits that are used as vegetables (used,
hell, even treated as such)... because you will not find
a tomato desert as such...
the classification of a tomato as a fruit:
given how it grows... would also invoke the cucumber
to be treated as a vegetable:
vegetables are not as juicy as fruits...
the flesh of the fruit is usually softer and certainly
more juicy... while the flesh of the vegetable
is more bulky and requires cooking and salt
to extract the juices oh a higher carbohydrate
concentrate of the fibrous nature...

pineapples... a fruit that grows like a vegetable
in the earth...
i like this "confusion" in my head...
i'm not going to clarify it...
            i leave this curiosity in my writing on purpose...
analytical a posteriori facts:
well... first having categorised the tomato as a fruit:
upon analysis... true: the tomato behaves like
a fruit... but upon analysis: after the fact:
it is better used as a vegetable...

         and the synthetic a posteriori truth about
the pineapple? then again: i know where i might be going wrong...
isn't synthetic a posteriori knowledge possible?
it's not as simple as the pineapple example
based on: fruits grow on trees while vegetables grow in
the earth... i can only find questions
on the possibility of synthetic a priori knowledge...
ergo? of course synthetic a posteriori knowledge
is possible...
    it's ingrained in chemistry...
what does synthetic a posteriori knowledge look like?

a chemist tastes a lemon... and he tries to replicate
the taste of lemon using chemicals...
he breaks down the chemistry of the lemon...
and? with due course... replicates the taste of lemon
without actually using a lemon!
he breaks the lemon to the basic components
of citric acids and whatever else is needed to replicate
the taste of lemon and grind it into a powder:
chemistry is synthetic a posteriori knowledge...
isn't it?

the examples i cited with the pineapples:
it doesn't matter that the pineapple behaves like
a vegetable when it grows...
apart from that sick idea of a Hawaiian pizza toppings...
pineapple? ham?! you what?!
that's not synthetic a posteriori knowledge:
that's just a ******* whim of bad-taste...
there's no actual synthesis of the pineapple growing
as a vegetable and the "ingenuity" of treating
it like a bad idea for a pizza topping...
the tomato: however... is a pristine example
of analytical a posteriori knowledge:
sure... it's categorised as a vegetable...
because of the way it grows... compared to actual vegetables:
but? you wouldn't allow the tomato
to be bitten into like an apple... you wouldn't bake
a tomato cake as you might bake a banana cake...
the analysis concludes: our knowledge of fruits is this...
and we have this vegetable: the tomato
that's a fruit... but it would be better suited
in being used like a vegetable...

synthetic a posteriori does exist... it just doesn't apply
to pineapples for the simply reason that they
grow like vegetables... they're still going to be fruits...
synthetic a posteriori knowledge is chemistry...
it has to exist because a pineapple is
not a synthetic a priori "idea" of TASTE let alone
virtue or however Kant framed it...

ugh... my first day back at Craven Cottage...
little ****** steward: i hate these hierarchies...
it's a petty army of high-viz. jackets...
   i wasn't the supervisor but i had some colts under
my "supervision"... i tried to smooth things over:
i did... in the end i wanted to see Fulham play
Liverpool... i spread the word around:
this is *******... they should have put us inside
the stadium...
   but... the weather was the loveliest and the Thames
was tide-out... two seagulls arguing...
in the shade: this part of London is truly mesmerising...
i love the smell of the Thames with the tide out...
in the shade under these mammoth-esque splendours
of foliage...
hell... i even managed to spot my first KONIK
(little horse)... that's slang for... those ******* that buy
tickets at the regular price... then hang around the stadium
and try to push the tickets at a hyper-inflated price...
the ****** was selling the tickets for £250 for two!
and this was after the first half finished!
i told one of the guys with a radio:
call this in...
                          i had to repeat myself about 3 times
before the management agreed to my concern...
they sent two spare police officers to the person in question...
he almost sold those ******* tickets...
one minute i see him pretend to tie his shoelaces
(he wasn't pretending) - his black cap
disappearing under the bushes... next minute:
wh'ah where?! ****** did a runner...
so he wasn't tying his shoelaces "on a whim":
he was about to do a runner...

                  that's ******* exploitation...
that's like: stealing... capitalism at its worst...
the ingenuity of crime: oh... but it's innocent crime...
it's i buy something for £30 but...
i'll sell it for you for £250...
                             now... it's not antiques! it's not a *******
van Gogh painting that has been lying around
for quite some time... gaining a repertoire and a reputation
as something good, worthwhile:
it's a ******* football match ticket!
hyper-inflation like under the Weimar Republic...
money good as "gold": "gold" as in winter fuel,
timber the new platinum!

after all: there was no real synthetic a priori knowledge:
chemistry is hardly a question of appearance,
water is clear, but so is hydrochloric acid...
what else is clear? sodium hydroxide...
                 chemistry was born from synthetic a posteriori
knowledge...
how many chemical experiments came as a surprise
a sort of anti-Eureka of synthetic a priori knowledge?
champagne springs to mind... lysergic acid comes
to mind: no one was actually trying to find these things...
e.g. they did not come about through analytical
a posteriori knowledge: they arose from
a dimension of the synthetic a posteriori knowledge:
by chance: by accident...

sure... i might be doing a ******-low-skill job right
now: and it is... i'll admit...
it's super **** sometimes:
most of the time my coworkers are either
over-bearing ego-maniacs fixated on hierarchy,
or they're lazy Somali youths...
or just plain-sighted Nimrods...
i sometimes leave my mind to wander...
that when i get the jerks in the feet like
i'm about to fall over... like for bearskin hatted
soldiers on parade...
but i leave my mind to wander:
it's not an insult if it's true...
                  no: when i was a roofer and fiddling
with inanimate things there was more focus
on the work to be done... dealing with people
is a crass differentiation from perfecting how an inanimate
ought to behave under your hands...
to turn a roll of felt into a water-insulated roof
with a roll of fleece and enough tar...
people are different: i'm sort of studying people...
gearing myself to hover in on children in schools...

if Leibniz preferred the profession of librarian
and a private intellectual life of par excellence...
i wouldn't think twice about becoming a primary school
teacher than being a secondary school
teacher of chemistry...
**** me: if drag queen hour is about to be imported
from America: i best (better) step in...
i just imagine: well... unlike a barren woman...
who has no children...
who goes into a profession akin to primary school
teaching... but then i'd arrive...
i know the obvious stereotype to battle:
PEDOHPILE! ha ha...
           Ava Lauren: just my type... plump...
full-bodied... probably the age of my mum by now...
that's my type...
i need something rounded of:
a 5.9 = a 6... just an example...
                
             but i let my mind wander... when roofing
you couldn't leave your mind to wonder...
i could... tell you of the specific scents in certain
underground stations... Baker Street? is that the one
with the Victorian arches, a station under the bridge?
i don't remember...
Putney Bridge is a beautiful station...
but today i took the route:
Romford via train... got off at Stratford... waited for a minute
for the central line...
(i love meditating on the topic of tubes maps...
there are only two important lines
in London... why? based on how many times
they intersect... the Central Line and the Piccadilly
Line... they only intersect at Holborn)...
travelled to Holborn... not sitting...
at each carriage there are these half-seats...
you're leaning back... standing-sitting...
i felt so relaxed... i gave way to the momentum
of the tube...
i was moving backwards and forwards...
head nodding... shoulders doing the mr. plastic-fantastic...
i almost tried to remember the remaining
tension in my body... the grip i had on a bottle
of water and a packet of tortilla wraps...
the rest of me was: freed...

when it comes to scents... that's one thing:
everyone knows it's a stupid idea to change tube
lines at Bank... why? well... Bank it connected
to Monument...
it's a city within a city: a London 2.0... oh oh:
yes it ******* is... never change at Bank...
anyway... as i was relaxing having closed my eyes...
i can tell you where the best sounds of
machinery exist in London?
between Liverpool St. - Bank - and Chancery Lane...
mind you... i cycle the route from time to time...
what's above? is not, what's above...
compared to cycling... this route is like:
watching the original Dune movie...
i'm strapped to a ******* earthworm...
or: being digested by one while listening to
the clag glug and clamour iron biting iron...
i sometimes do the "twirl" of the tube above
ground... just after Aldgate...
i head towards Brick Lane... toward Liverpool St.
prior to reaching Bank St.:

all the Piccadilly Stations between Holborn and
Earl's Court have this sickly sweet stench
about them... it's sickly sweet... it's: sickly sweet...

i remember back in St. Augustine's we had one
female primary school teacher...
some ****** proverb speaks the words:
woe unto you for having to care for the children
of others...
while i'm thinking: that would be a worthwhile challenge...
i don't want any of my own:
the fear of ******* them up more than
i was ****** up wears me down...
at least with the genes of strangers
i can send in an auxiliary covert party of my psyche...
who would i send in? the usual suspects...
Kant, Heidegger, Newton, Ezra Pound...
oh... the list is pretty long...

most probably Rumi hanging around with
Zhuangzi... Ovid and Horace...
ooh... terrible idea to start drinking whiskey
after binge-eating a watermelon...
the burps i'm getting back:
******* postcards from Uan Muhuggiag (Libya)...
i'm seeing camels double the number of their humps!
not good... absolutely no good

burp... ooh... this watermelon will not go down
so good... while i worry about *******
myself come tomorrow morning...
unlike the Red Hot Chilly Peppers singing
the fames of California:
what do i have? i have the countryside of Essex
and the incursions in the concrete staccato
of London... i can mediate this...

              burp: well... at least it's whiskey mingling
with the juices of a watermelon...
i much prefer that to the half-digested acidic
meat of any sort...
                 that's healthy burping and healthy farting
for your...
hmm... investing in children... that's an idea...
i once remarked to a boy in a supermarket:
you know... how a while i thought animals
were incapable of seeing 3D objects
in a 2D canvas: i.e. why wouldn't animals
watch television with men?
today i had a "Fred" pester me for a bite
of my tortilla roll...
i would have given it to him freely:
i wasn't that hungry...
   so i asked his owner: so... what's his diet like?
oh... Fred has had pretty stomach upsets...
he spent the past three days eating mulberries
from a tree...
ooh! i love mulberries: who couldn't be more upset?
the dog or the mulberries?
ugh: these kind of people:
that have their dogs on a ******* vegan diet...
hey! Fred! bite into this tortilla wrap!
i have learned that the food man eats
if also eaten by a dog tastes better:
after it was eaten by man!

o.k., fair enough Fred... you have an owner that
deserves having you: but no children...
i'd put you in the same category as a child...
children, dogs, cats...
things that might stir in man the unusual:
certainly not Darwinistic / genetic investment
that might reduce a man's hormonal balance...
mate... you look at me that dumb-***** eyed way
one more time... let me pat you on the head
like i have... you're coming with me to the land
of eternal tortillas wrapping around chicken
and bacon: there's no "yes" as there's no "no"...

but that's London for you...
            and that's also Essex for you...
i spent an entire day in London?
where did i find those cheap-*** beauties of womanhood?
i didn't find them in London:
i had to travel back to Romford to find...
i sat down to eat a snack bucket in a chicken shop:
three spicy wings, some chips...
mayonnaise and some chilly sauce...
a 7up... £3.50... i enjoyed the meal
and thought about: nothing...
nothing is usually hard to "think" about...
you get into geometry: to prolong your time at pretending
to look "cool"... when eating alone...

i hopped on the bus... watched two hunchbacks
of an elderly couple "manage" their way own:
what cruel fate... the extension of mortality
via science... may i never see myself
that old... reduced to being the child of Atlas...
no... i don't care for the sensibility of secularism
and science...
old age transcends both of these:
it's the reality of old age...
prolonged old age is best renowned
and celebrated by lizards: turtles most in fact...
mammals look weird...
mammals look weird when their life is prolonged:
unnaturally: via the basis of science!

start giving out re-prescriptions to people
with a a faith in science but no hope in hope...
start selling them hopes of eternity...
this materialistic "eternal life": is drawing us closer
to no closure...
there comes a life: there coms a death of said life...
it's not fair to pretend that the inevitiable
is "not" going to happen: it will...
the tyranny of old age...
                  by the standards of the Benelux:
i'm more than willing to bow out...

who knows! i am not willing to simply live
for the awkward presence of strangers
on a basis of anomalies and non-intrusions
of some freaked-up formalities...
to hell with that: i have no evolutionary-existential
plight of  "conscience" that might make me suppose:
on racial grounds: that the human "effort"
will disappear: outright: completely:
sure... chances are... humanity will be governed
by more people willing to ***** cities of death via
the pyramid... people engage in the magic carpet
flights of Islam and pseudo-Islam from regions
akin to Somalia and Bangladesh:
my problem? i can't live forever! can i?

et scriptum est...
i like being toyed around as being the idiot...
it helps me grow...
and it was so written...
                ergo? ut necesse sit!
(and so it must be)
  ha ha! ah ha ha h ha ha!
vulnus ferrum:
                  sanguis respiratio
scratch of iron:
breathing blood!
            
mortuus est mori: the dead must die!
vivos debet mori /
vivos non sunt exceptio!

i work among people that make my intellect:
CLOWN!
   i entertain them... i must...
but their intellect is about as much:
grappling as... i don't know what!
i'm out of metaphors and aphorisms...

                        intelligence is discouraged when it comes
to a working environment...
           i'm like Leibniz... i'm unlike Newton...
my ambitions a "cowering" in a personal enterprise...
i like the individualism of m own enterprise:
i don't hope to solve or save the problems of
a common man... nope!
                
last time i heard? the train has arrived:
i also heard: the train is leaving...
well... i'm i geared up:
what do i care for the famines in Ethiopia?!
i don't care for claiming responsibilities for
people who don't take responsibilities for
themselves!
starve?! **** it... why not?"
oh right... one of the Somali types?!
pretend it's work by hiding behind the bushes?!
ergo? behind the bushes i pretend to shower you
with free bread and pork? don't like pork?
eat dirt instead!

i'm done: free-loaders: i'm done with them...
i'm so ******* with these Somalis that you can't even begin to comprehend!
Tonight, whenst my soul wasth dancing about its walls,
I chall-enged myself to potter about th' halls.
Having adjusted my red shawl and added some more
tints of blush into my frazzled cheeks, didst I swing myself
out of my chamber.
A sleek rain wasth but mumbling outside; and evoked within me
a longing for domestic adventures-to **** th' silent drear of
th' dying evening! With only th' rain as its ember, flitting away
wasth its cold shadows, with shards of plainness around
its damp, frail body, awash in th' childlike pouring shower-
th' one t'at would betray it soon-and ended with a blunt
thump as th' morbid clouds hanging aloft, dyeing th' sky faithfully red,
but consoling in such irresistible ways! How I remembereth its leaving a scent
to my skin and constitution so soft, and indulged it away, so unlike
th' smug moonbeam-immaculate like th' stars, but unsettled and tumultous
at heart-and in th' lap of bleak, unsoundly thunderstorms would be torn apart.
So ventured I, downstairs! No soul was rolling around th' corridors,
in spite of th' lamps, t'ose yellow halos against
th' wooden walls. How I gleefully descended th' adjacent steep bars-
downwards, in a quiet stroll, whilst coolly whistling to my own *****-
to procure the merriment of letters-yes, th' abodes of t'ose ****** words,
unappalled yet by th' venerable worlds. And t'eir tiny chambers, t'ose neatly
glued; inked papers, flocked into t'eir serene boxes this afternoon-ah, by those
blokes so punctual, honourable indeed areth t'eir perseverance, strength,
and little carriages! With horses as divine, crowding people's lives
with th' ornaments of phrases carved within envelopes
in t'eir leather bags-an occupation so holy! It is-it is, indeed! Like a sledge
t'at never utters a complaint-or sheep t'at dares not to leap, or
wiggle, in th' threat of its young master, albeit grimaces of sickness,
and pain, pain as of giving mortal births, affordeth. And howeth it shalt invade
its listening hearts with blades of agony-whose sullen grass
is bitter but never to wither-a resemblance of long-living memory,
so dark but unspoken-and whose life is but willingly tethered t' th' snow beneath;
a pampered sea of whiteness with bonds of accusation
enshrined along its surface,
regardless of th' pure-hearted toil of th' reindeer,
and its honesty t'at so charmingly planted within its roots. Agreeable element,
just as it is! T'ose men so deserving of praise-hark, hark how t'ey clutched at my letters,
and gently shoved 'em forwards; amidst t'ose gloomy bits of chuckling dews!
Frosts t'at sent chills through th' afternoon's vigilant pains,
o, what dormant a serpent, as t'ey wert! But now wert t'ey inventing t'eir slots
out o' t'eir caves-andeth greedly rendering it more gratuitous
t' th' old man's eyes. Horrendous! Inescapable! Disagreeable! How t'is fate, but fate
t'at is intimate with wonder-obstinate in 'tis own credulity, and paths
of security, esteem, and actuality; fate t'at canst ot'erwise be unfathomable-
at th' most desirous times such as t'is!
Thrown was I into th' view of another, fancy who it was-
a former friend, about whom my heart once so dearly throbbed, and perchance
plentifully longed to meet! But as encounter, didst we-a river of grand, prosperous ambitions
and plots of weaving merciful fortune, andeth devious thirst for far precarious,
yet precious, lore-forgotten wereth thus our memories, and stepped away but we,
from each ot'er's undeniably hearty regions.
But he! How, this evening, with t'at pair of eyes
kind with endless blueness-blowing so handsome into my face,
t'at lake of golden hair, and skin so moist in its ripe, whole whiteness,
as bright as th' moonlit skies above-sensuous and translucent
in his searing youth, o my dear!
How he entereth th' door with t'ose passionate airs about 'im,
and abruptly captivated my soul! Atoned, hastily, wasth all my grief
and pangs of gloom, upon my laying my first sights on 'im! What a majestic being!
A charm so frank as th' most desired odour of nature;
and unbreakably calm in its greetings-a lure so powerful to my entire soul!
How decent, yet enticing, t'is gentleman to my comprehension!
How lovable wasth his manly voice-as he first attempted to speak;
blanketed and cheered most adorably
by colourful fogs of courage, waves of veritable determination-o, how a gaze
can be so tender into my heart!
O, but it now appeareth t'at I ought to doubt not
about falling in love again;
with t'ese new fits o' charms I've found,
of a soul t'at was but so long abandoned
whilst I let myself being disheartened-so cruelly
and unthinkingly, by that poor fiend! A brute, a lonesome wretch as he is-
whose love is but unworthy, fraudulent, to my eyes-
a rustic, odd liar! And let him but shrink
into nothingness; and be unthoughtfully buried within th' cold arms
of th' dismantled sun-wherein a wrathful furnace shalt he burn, and cry,
cry sorrowfully in deplorable hatred, with no-one else to shoulder his castigations
and bestow neither any ot'er love-nor pity, for 'im,
as th' wife whom his chest daintily adores
is but th' sin he has made, andeth th' ashes of his ungodly remains-
As cursed and woven away from t'is world by our kingly God-just as how she
hath misled him hitherto, and duly tortured wasth her by our new faith-
whence soulless was she left, a thin, uncrucial vapour of triviality-as most sane creatures
shalt know! How after t'at disaster of death,
damnation becameth her home and bower,
whereth howl wilt she like a prone elf-
andeth be th' mourning fire itself.
Kam Yuks Oct 2012
Replicated "t" square, heated and manipulated to match a hand drawn schematic, eye-balled and transferred to a soiled napkin two days prior.

Recovery spent melee inspired by whispered breath. Kin to wind, multi- colored marshmallows, or hard candies that have been rewrapped quickly and shuffled to the bottom of the bag.

Periscope ala multi-limbed, e.g. tentacular. Rain spun abundant large geometric insect eyes radiating opalescent transit; here and there, over or under, stop and go, when = then, two - days - life - end.

Glowing hand, darkest white light in a vacant space. All secrets hidden with trust, imagination, and neglect; recalling memories for those who live to forget. Like a hunger fed plentifully followed by a playful belch aloud for honor and comfort. Later, the indulgence calls and abdominal gases produce an acidic truth that burns the memory back into awareness.

Flush it away now! Get rid of it quickly. There is no time to respect the whole past, only that which allows performance to continue uninterrupted.

Tuck those memories away deeper this time; the ***** will drown you before it drowns them. Laying around and crying aloud won't pay the bills; if nothing else remember, a good American is a good consumer and a good consumer never wastes time getting to know themselves  when the alternative is television.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Pained Change
Blades of grass
Dunes of sand
Hope seems crass
Lost western land
Venture was always
The great pleasure
Mountain, desert spillway
Heartfelt must giveaway
Thrills and stills
Break up time
You’re the chime
Every mood known
Body soul rings
Outward it sings
Treasures now blown
Flat turgid bands
Constricted lifeless stands
Prairie poverty endless
Vistas are beguiling
Nothing enlarges loss
Sea’s beauty emboss
Will ever haunt
Expectation endless searching
The soul taunt
It feeds silently
Body nourished plentifully
Mindless without resources
The spirit dutifully
A lost observer
i witnessed a yoga class
at south by
push ups
downward dog and happy baby
**** cheeks
whispers
watch me
watch me name things
this
that
and the other lover
oh
thats me too
im two terrible people at once
pages run
too thin
though i have enough
blood to supply
those that remain

who needs blood when
innards spew plentifully
who needs a pen
when a finger will suffice
why paper when a bar window
begs for my inscription

look

downward ******* dog man
easy in
vocal out
its really not that hard
you just need to work on your balance
NuurSeraph Jul 2014
No telling what these times will trace along the fabric of our space

Each field of View projects a unique skew to piece in place the larger Screen to Scan the bigger Pattern of this raucous Reality.

Who think You to have Eyes to See such Chaotic Commotion Accurately?

Shucks, Not Me!!!!
Sweet Stars, Can You??

Oh my, whatever shall We do?!?
Who's got the latest Smartphone?!
It's time to test for real IQ, this is no laughing matter, hand it over....

"Siri, Where Can I Find Jacob's Ladder??"
Searching. Searching. Blahdditty, Bhahdditty, Bhah....And?

"Ahh for crap, you don't think you can help me with that?!?"*

...I won't even bother asking Where Heaven's at, I'm gonna have to check the Bibles, the Gospels, the last of the deadest Sea Scrolls, for sure I'll find some kind of clue, I've got to talk to a representative, and figure out just what to do!!

We'll be in the next millennium before we coordinate an Earth Committee to review...right, Sooo ...hmmmm

Ahhh Soo, here it's been, alas the puzzle pieced...

"Seek First and Ye shall Find, the Kingdom of Heaven lies Within"

Well then, not far to find some kind of satisfactory Solution.
If We all agree it not so necessary to see the Larger Screen...if We simply pay close attention to our own appointed part, all the parts Groove grandly.

Heaven is Here, We find Help within our own Skin, Proper Purpose to Talk to Ourselves in Peace....Plentifully Indeed.
...And Closely with your neighbors, family, and friends...don't got none, there's space right Here, Join In!!
True Change starts with Compassion.
We All are in this Together All Over the World. Let's Act Like It.
SelinaSharday Oct 2023
GOOD DAY MY PRECIOUS DEAR LOVED ONE..
Hey.. keep
that shinning personality glowing
You are my Sunlight..
The one who loves.
whos a
different outside of the box
my comedian. Whose
so much fun..
It rips my soul seeing you in Pain when that happens..
These words are sent from Poetic Mother.
Of The Poetry writer, the comedic, art drawing Son..
Your a unique soul..
May the flow of wisdom.. flow within You and bless you with Faith
Everlasting..
Adding wisdom and a rich foundation of knowledge..

Hey You..
Hi armor one who hides his pain and covers
his aches with smiles..
I see your heart I see your soul.
I see your a created unique Mold.
Gather gratefulness and wash in it plentifully.
Within every inch of your spirit,
bath in the ingredients of bounce back.
Giving your mind over to Peace.. Order your heart to allow
Mercy to be in full control..
Waves hey son..
Loving you is strings of blessings..
The links and cords of greater blessings.
like sowing good.. In rich soil.
Rest from all turmoil.
Your Heavens Son..
Your works aren't done..
Encouragement, acknowledging, and praying
alexis May 2017
until there's nothing left
in your eyes
i carry ounces and pounds and tons
like they're feathers flying through the air
weightless and bountiful
and plentifully fine on the space of my back
you give and give and give and give
the matter that seems to weigh you down
with little regard for the emptiness of agreement
my words long to fill and object
i'm not asking for too much
i just want you to know
my back isn't spacious
my arms aren't made of steel
my face isn't built of stone and promises
for your words and actions to take in
i'm not something that is resourceful
i fall and i shatter
and i'm drowning from everything
you take and take and take
soon there will be nothing left to take.
Ackerrman Sep 2019
Happy, drooping, yellow blossom over-
Hangs and peers drearily toward the dirt.
Leering with might, towering poor clover
Who trembles and asks, “How was one so hurt?”

Daffodil smiles a wry smile and chuckles,
“Young one, the tides of time meander, break,
Thrash the fearful boat until it buckles,
Naivety led me to this glum state”.

Clover sat in quiet contemplation
Until, “Daffodil, you are a victim
Of turning time’s sad manipulation,
Revere the present- make it your kingdom.

Startled, the proud, tall flower spoke no words,
Craned neck to the sun, drank plentifully.
At length, listened to the sound of the birds,
Saw beauty in the garden, presently.

“Colour, the wealth enriching this garden
Feels to me, a small boat in the ocean
Beating on against the tide- a burden,
An ill-fated, cumbersome devotion”.

A blue Jay sensed the trouble from the trees,
Made a detour from its usual way,
Beseeched the flower, hopped down to her knees,
“Not everything in this world fades to grey.

This life can be free and beautiful, Daf!
Grow so tall but you rarely see the sky,
Take a look in the endless blue and laugh,
The bright yellow orb will never need die”.

Languid flower feels the sun on his neck,
The rays passing through his delicate hands,
He cranes his head toward the ground to check
The answer does not lie in the brown lands.

Eyes as feelers pointed toward the ground,
A wriggling worm wraps around the words,
“Dear flower, you make a terrible sound,
Being so down, I have come to be heard.

The dirt that nourishes you so freely
Has God’s plan in every grain of soil,
The world is connected in every
Facet, in every beautiful smile”.

We are your friends, the life that cares for you,
So if you can’t be alive for yourself,
If you can’t find a reason to live too,
Keep spreading magic for your friends, get through.
One of three poems I have written concerning the life of garden flowers
Jonathan Finch Nov 2017
I found myself in Putney
after many stupid years.
It was a worthless day
before spring comes with all its biting powers.
There was nothing there in Putney
but that February hearse
and all the villainy of incredible memory
born out of pointless love and hope that blackmails.
There was traffic there, that endless vicious fume
of noise; and litter blowing pointlessly;
savage parents; hard and worried kids;
the thundering mess of London all around;
a hop of sparrows on that pointless ground.
I found myself in Putney
where I lost myself so many stupid years ago,
and by that withered house a withered love arose.
“Ah, love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
“You acknowledge me?” she said.
“Of course,” I answered.
“Put your arm across my breast,” she said.
“Touch my still hair. Weep plentifully.
“Let your poor heart break. Strike here across my cheek
“To know what you have lost.”
“My love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
(From the withered house the years were toppling.)
“Stupid questions from a stupid man.
“You loved me and you lost me.”
Then the roar of London hurt my head.
I saw a man go down a street
Where no street was, where no man was.
Penultimate in the collection after I had lost Kathy. I went to Putney and hallucinated without drugs except the drug of terrible pain...I had lost Katharine forever!
Jonathan Finch Dec 2017
I found myself in Putney
after many stupid years.
It was a worthless day
before spring comes with all its biting powers.
There was nothing there in Putney
but that February hearse
and all the villainy of incredible memory
born out of pointless love and hope that blackmails.
There was traffic there, that endless vicious fume
of noise; and litter blowing pointlessly;
savage parents; hard and worried kids;
the thundering mess of London all around;
a hop of sparrows on that pointless ground.
I found myself in Putney
where I lost myself so many stupid years ago,
and by that withered house a withered love arose.
“Ah, love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
“You acknowledge me?” she said.
“Of course,” I answered.
“Put your arm across my breast,” she said.
“Touch my still hair. Weep plentifully.
“Let your poor heart break. Strike here across my cheek
“To know what you have lost.”
“My love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
(From the withered house the years were toppling.)
“Stupid questions from a stupid man.
“You loved me and you lost me.”
Then the roar of London hurt my head.
I saw a man go down a street
Where no street was, where no man was.
penultimate poem in "Love" Poems For Kathy written some years after the end
Frances May 2018
I scratch my head
I don't want to believe she's dead  

Flood gates are to pour
Chaos is a roar

Her eyes aren't gleaming
While mine are plentifully streaming
  
I hold little satisfaction
Of this forlorn form of action

My words are kept at bay
Of my emotions I can only say

Let her smile be reborn
And her heartstrings strum untorn
I write this shortly after an old friend took their own life. Rest in piece Lexie Jane
Within Pantheon Of Classical Gods

stricken with affliction,
sans amyotrophic lateral sclerosis
(also known as ALS, 
or Lou Gehrig's disease)

in the prime of his youth wrought
underestimation, vitiated termination,
targeted sequestration,
solidified rigidification,

rendered quandary,
per paralyzation obliterated,
nixed navigation,
morphed motivation,

marked limitation
kickstarted infatuation,
jinxed immobilization,
induced intellectual hyperfunction,

garnered fundamental fascination,
fanned fabled exploration,
devastation demonstrated
delectable declaration,

cosmological constant comet
clinched, chained certain capitulation,
brainstormed benefaction,
benediction attribution assured.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
his longevity (marked by bing permanently
     linkedin, hitched, drafted
     to a custom made wheelchair,
his brilliant unsullied scientific genius)

     endured seventy six orbitz veer
ring round the nearest star,
     though seemingly motionless, he freed their
ret tickle physiochemical insight

     encompassing, revolutionizing,
     and jaw-dropping, revelations
     with mortals he did share
transcendent seeded plentifully

     mental limitless groundswell
     fed his fecund rare
if eyed cogitated, formulated, insulated
     (infinitesimal nook and cranny) force queer

lee disproportionate overly endowed capacity
     bracketed with mar ching madness peer
ring with laser, razor, and taser sharp mind
     (or a minuscule approximate near

facsimile thereof) scrutinizing, positing,
     and discerning astronomical phenomena mere
via concentrating gifted limned, and rapacious,
     though processes affixed
     with a visage mordantly like King Lear.
Olivia Kent Apr 2015
Hello dear hart.
O one with heavy head.
Find thy safety in the density of the flowering trees.
Stand secure by the stream as plentifully you sip the flowing waters, don't you slip
A hunter bow in arms, your scent not caught.
Long be you free to stand beside the stream upon the sand.
Hold your head high, remain silent.
How the hunter never saw you.
You will n'er know.
For today you're free to go.
(c) Livvi
As a lactose intolerant
     cow whirring lion eye zing
dual (Banjo playing) Manichean
     ("FAKE") keen man womanizing,
faux nymphomaniac wannabe,
     I cone only scream about visualizing
nip pulling and getting a breast
     of Hani La (vanilla),

     this sweltering unfreezing
Wednesday while mouth
     watering chiefly hanker
     for milch of
     human kindness, which titillating
fanciful fandom fantasies
     skinny dipping into soliloquizing
whet dreams har made

     sadly, simply, and sorely realizing
test tickles quizzing
noggin merely figment
     of fertile imagination pricking
prurient potent plentifully oozing
naughty salacious, licentious,
     and felicitous evocations pulsating
hypnotically invoking

     trance send dint overriding
gloriously flirtatious escapade needling
my over active
     thought processes monopolizing
ability to focus attention trying
     to compose joyous leavening,
sans jump starting
     massaging, and kneading

     dormant limp libido liberating
panting allied force,
     which seems tubby
     in axis Sybil for Nick -
     A.Ting, thus Celeb Basie,
     frantically, gingerly, and
     haphazardly kickstarting
***** riot with this feeble attempt

     for a firm hut heave action,
     one docile male member
     devoid of livingsocial,
     hence aye ****
     sitter ring joining

a nunnery, which
     would be habit chilly unfitting,
     and very un convent
     shin null for a poetic ending!
itellectual property
is a valuable commodity

which is why
unscrupulous
people
steal
this
kind of property
so they can
enrich themselves
plentifully

they who create it
must ensure
they've got a legal
document
which shows that it  
is an original
idea
not
meant
to be pirated
Dune not be bashful, grumpy, leery
or any other contemporary dwarf man
regarding countless less well known dwarves
(that never got a chance
to play a bit part) such as wham
bam
thank you ma'am
linkedin with emergence
of Internet and poetry slam
opportunities availed by Nast tee Uncle Sam,

which characters (albeit fiction),
nevertheless, helped spawn a quiet yet free
global, radically riotous,
totally tubular snow white transformation
affecting a societal and human specie
but also augmented, credited,
engineered, et cetera contributing
to paradigm seismic shift that garnered tree
mend us plentifully birthed schema,
impacted and transformed how wii

(more particularly many gifted minds)
bridged geographical distance
(encompassing all four corners
of the Earth) to enhance
what came to be called the world wide web,
courtesy Sir Tim Berners-Lee
hewing digital strong armed lance
information super high, "Cyber Revolution,"
etc allowing one to prance

and essentially transcend reality to brook
cyber sea ghosting, fostering, embezzling crook
commanding, commingling, communicating, hook
line and sinker, et cetera courtesy nerdy kook
with an excellent access and outlook
reaching the most distant cranny and nook.

This (bit a bing chitty chitty bang bang)
democratization of information,
manifestation toward
exponentially faster processing capacities
(latest technological trend heralds
Quantum computing – promising
to transform the world into
twenty first century space race)
more powerful than pen or sword
(based on principles of Moore’s Law), reward
witnessing atheists to thank good lord

electronically solidifying
binary unification swiftly tail lord
engendering greater dependence and reliance  
figuratively shrinking the drinking gourd
allowing far flung aliens, family,
friends, et cetera to ford
great distances via sophisticated electronics
courtesy of super smart motherboard
enabling ever more complex
futuristic electronic contrivances,
the generic **** Sapien gibbon could afford.

Analogous to Medieval Age
this quiet ***** riot creation
(ushering on thee global stage
equally as controversial when
la cage aux folles aired)
vis a vis Internet did un cage
actual overcoming physical barriers
ushered Hallmark gauge
marked by Computer/Digital Age odyssey),

especially sharing pixelated page
at light speed, where the ordinary individual
could keep in contact )
albeit with every now and again
a bit torrent rage
and in some instances tapping
smarts of a preschooler considered a sage,
which kindergarten lad/lass
commandeered a handsome wage

whereat the parental figure
did gently cajole, wheedle or beg
their wealthy progeny promising
son/ daughter of a healthy nest egg
framing almighty dollar
as theatrical masterpiece jpeg
storing money in Swiss
bank accounts or hollow leg
perhaps christened Meg
or if an avid weekly reader
of Moby ****'s Queequeg,

who felt incorporeal storied power
of Herman Melville as zen unseen aid
instructing hypothetical rich kid
to drop out of school
before his/her first grade
cuz of all the money he/she made,
which affected modus operandi rendered obsolete
child worker laws  
and no sweat of brow getting paid
people used bitcoin (protocol
which implements a highly available,
public, and decentralized ledger)
additionally making purchases
with scant keystrokes to complete a trade.

As with any major dramatically novel scheme  
light bulb idea scribbled on napkin
or other scrap of paper
via modeling brainstorm viz cutting up cheese
or spraying whipped cream
originating as a flash in the pan
aha eureka moment, or dream
as rough blueprint subsequently
underwent beta testing,
before declaring pc innovation supreme,
whereby outstanding persons
in the tech industry
clamored to join Kidde team.

Whether seventh day add vent
hissed or other religious creed
powerful binary processing
rooted and impacted particularly
after tooth house sand
years after common era (re: anno domini)
earth shaking incarnation indeed
and ramifications in all walks
and talks of life sought expert need.

Coven chanting children murmured Luddites be ******!

Thus spake Zarathustra
(cue the opening scene
from Planet of the Apes)
upon witnessing as if king or queen
(in reality father or mother)
didst get immediately
dethroned thus, increasing mean
average positive netzero
effects on society, especially lean
microchip i.e. integrated circuitry
miniaturization "green"
technology (and eventual
attendant affordable price),
viz said trappings
upon global market
invited absolute zero dust, a must clean
as a whistle work space,
and manufacturers laboratory be microbe free
hermetically sealed vacuumed "clean.”

Countless portable computers
unbeknownst soon invited
florid colorful expletives
upon heads that did wantonly hack
impromptu malfeasance called cyber crime,
especially as majority proportion of population
didst purchase these dime a dozen,
countless electronically sophisticated contrivances
every Tom, **** and Harry

snapped up these smart machines
excitedly keyed away
ofttimes indifferent to gunk
on unwashed hands
plus bits of food particles
eventually caking hardware with grime
subsequently necessitating technician
charging gobs of moolah
sans to unstitch in time.

Gooey glop getting suctioned out
vaunted vips venting vitriolic vocalizations
emphasized obvious
NO FOOD OR DRINK rule to abide
cuz suctioning tower computer
or laptop presented vulnerability
plus unforeseen downfall against fried
food and greasy hands ended up hide
ding hardest to reach locale
on circuit board no matter
how expert technician pried
“end user” yelling out gratitude
to geek squad member helping
before he/she went side
dulling out front door

eagerly awaiting
remotely controlled self driving vehicle
transporting self taught techie guru home
to an obscure gated destination,
an uninterrupted distant, yet pleasant ride
eventually amateurs encouraged
to tinker like an apprenticed tailor

akin as raw troubleshooting recruit
oft playfully feigned to be soldier spy
pretending to repair bowel of computer
when in truth visiting
supposed outer limits of functionality
legality, and radicality shadowing dark side
which lined illegal benefits
of labor saving devices.

The sound of silence
written on the subway walls
though heretics opposing
latest technology and felt sinister chill
(just ask Punxsutawney Phil),
the Internet ranks as greatest dog sent rill
lee where wiz kids ranked
chatting killer apps with grateful dead
information superhighway as heavenly manna
with artificial intelligence street cred
since introduction of white bread
and powdered milk biscuits
baked by Ahmed.
LannaEvolved Mar 2021
(I am)... my own I am

I am the Creator
I imagine what is not there, but what is felt
What is in my bones

I can feel that
That is deep work.

I shift into new spaces
I lead with my courage to be brave
When it is hard to be brave
these days
in America
But we have to continue on.

I choose to find the pieces of recognition
To sift through those parts
That make up my identity
Who am I?
Who is anyone?

To make them whole
Isn’t that the point to
our purpose?
Of our salvation? To. keep. going on...
Gliding slow and refilled in short and long truffled steps through alleyways..
Eventually towards a valley that may be
called our own.. whatever that means.

Being a co-creator I touch others
I become the mirror of their soul
Sharing a glimmer of mine
And that’s enough...

To feel..
to hear..
to know..
Plentifully.

Not to understand more or to fear less
But to see the truth come forth from underneath this...
creativity.

What is creativity, but a fleeting image
A passing thought
An air bubble of time and space that sounds great, but appears jagged
in its form and flow

No questions asked
No worries;
thoughts to dance
around.

It is just and it is human
Formed for a mind and
heart
The body of its source
It is I, the Creator  
And... I am proud of that.
For this is my creation.
Woebegone, enraged spirits
holographic images taciturn
journeying somberly aghast
at their stolen sacred lands... mourn
dead souls impossible mission

sabotaged aery mission endeavor
happy hunting grounds upheaval
witnessed gaunt ****** sojourn,
perhaps collective aboriginal ghosts return
to haunt cruel innocent heir/heiresses
regarding interlopers, si?

Malicious intent birthed in subsequent
quick succession to adventitious,
(nevertheless grievous) events
visited upon heads of storied "Indians")
misnomer spurred European explorers
(more particularly exploiters),

when "discovering" the Americas
to dole out (deliberately)
contaminated accouterments,
plus various sundry trappings
to native inhabitants.

Gross misdeeds of our long deceased forebears
debauched, decorated, and dedicated
footloose hedonistic jackbooted violent men
loosed mayhem opening pandora's box
unwittingly and/or intentionally disseminating

seeds of annihilation germinating lethal pandemic
decimating innocent ofttimes knowingly
unleashing opportunistic virile organisms
without vital immunity linkedin
****** defense mechanisms.

With advantage of hindsight
always 20/20 (especially
calendrical juncture planetary
space/time continuum 2020)
opprobrium plentifully quoted
as cosmic consciousness skews perspective,

whereby admission acknowledged
conquistadors looted, pillaged, and *****
(blithely, effectively, and indiscriminately killed)
every man, woman, and child
and/or sowed cultural abomination
acceleration, adulation, aeration...

Though thoroughly grounded
within secular humanism
courtesy kickstarting metaphysical realism
philosophical, teleological...
essentially Unitarianism paradigm
whereby ripple repercussions of actions
(think butterfly effect

starring Ashton Kutcher - ha)
trigger domino falling action,
yet additionally affects fate,
particularly he/she who
activated, cultivated, generated...
chain of events, particularly
brutal, deplorable, and unforgivable misdeeds.
Michael Marchese Jan 2020
Footprints
In the once
Frozen tundra
Where hunts
Of mammalian
Mega-fauna
Fed for months
The forerunners
Who tread
Never lightly
Though impacted slightly
The snow-packing,
Packs of tracks
Fleeing them nightly
Yet still none escaped
Extirpation events
Imminent in the state
Human nature’s
Expense
A propensity
Intensively cultivating
Immense cities
And firmaments
We’ve invented
Still plentifully drenched
In its carbon-based
Thinking
With senses entrenched
In an ubermensch quenching
His thirst for extinction
Another coaled-age,
Icy gaze
In the blinking
Of time’s
Neutral eyes
Rising tides
We are sinking
Like links in the chain
To oblivion’s depths
Anchored to
What remains
Whence prehistory slept
Undisturbed for millennia
Secrets in keeping
Contained
A methane
Climate change’s
Deceasing
A species from breeding
And breathing the air
And with no heir apparent
Forever unleashing
Destruction inherent
Inheritance-reaping
Peace-speaking
Tongue lizards,
Heart blizzards
Heat-seeking
A homeostasis
Of polar sun-tans
In a verdant oasis
Of frigid wastelands
WITH OTHERS, especially stupid people. You'll be amazed by how
stupid people get along together: poking each other with metal
rods; defecating plentifully; easing into difficulties; loving total
gaiety and attempting self-dentistry with comedic results.
WITH OTHERS, especially stupid people. You'll be
amazed by how stupid people get along together:
poking each other with metal rods; defecating
plentifully; easing into difficulties; loving
total gaiety and attempting self-
dentistry with comedic results.

— The End —