"postulates" poems
How tenuous this grip we have, how slight our hold remains
When all around loud braggards boast that power now pertains,
We see the banner headlines splashed across our daily rags
And redneck demonstrations cleans the streets of Spics and ****
When blood runs in the gutter as the battons rise and fall
And whilst taking tea in style the filthy rich ignore it all.
The blonde leader of our nation struts, postulates and brags
While the rest of us skive off around the corner smoking ****
Our kids ingest confusion as they loiter on the street
Unknowing our delusions make illusions held, replete.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our hold remains
As our allies shower cold distrust convinced our fault inflames.
What chance of clear redemption, what remedies revive
When truth is lost to darkness can our honesty survive?
Reputation cut to shards, confidences ******
That leaders of community no longer hold our trust
When white is caste as black and then to green and then to grey
And sanity refuses pontification one more day.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our holds remain
As twilight turns to darkness caste against a larks’ refrain.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON, New Zealand
25 July 2018
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
Why
Do I have to learn this?
Math hates me
Didn't you know?
The triangles glare
The equations stare
The postulates and theorems whisper nasty things
The formulas judge
The polygons sneer
I just want to get out of here
Take me away
Back to English class
The one without the numbers
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
Just an equation,
A Simple theorem.
A little misbehaviour,
Outside the decorum.
.
I add and provide,
Hoping we never divide.
At the geometry, I stare
Just a mindfuck of a square.
.
A slight cross multiplication,
To bond upon this attraction.
To help develop the postulates.
Of your mere subtraction.
.
I integrate & derive,
It's the formulae I'm deprived
Of. The questions always lead to me and you.
I always end up in my four sided cube.
- Aks, in math classes.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
perturbations of aliveness
animated sensual arousal
the world is full of beauty
bleeding colour into edges
the soul is on it's knees
in constant reverence
as the body postulates
with many varied stances
the heart's tide is roaring
with cryptic coalescence
symphonic sounds wave
from an unstruck core
swallowed in a resonance
undulating both ways
all ways,
always.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
Plasmatic schematics
mold plastics
& filament
dangles in the doorway.
Grape fuit sweat,
enough to fill a
Basilisk flask,
stains my nostrils.
Thermodynamic hammocks
solved the energy crisis
between me
& her.
A golden silhouette
postulates in my doorway;
speaking in tongues
to her ****
She is the structure
of water.
The process
of a thought.
Gouge out my eye
&
hold it consciously
between those clammy palms .
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
...The thing with no name,
Surrounded by sadness,
That kind of sadness
Penetrating its silence,
That kind of silence
Searching the tears,
Those tears
Becoming cubes of light,
Those cubes wondering
On their situation of their becoming,
Being involved in a movement
Apparently anarchic,
Needing, ''a priori cognoscible'',
Synthetic truths
And empirical postulates
On the shape of their inner dislocation,
Their shear looping into unstable equilibrium,
Needing a stable equilibrium,
Becoming emblematic symbols
Of the diminishing boundary
Between real and unreal,
That cubic thing withdrawing itself,
Slowly becoming
Memory....
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 3:53 PM UTC
I blame myself for distasteful stupidity;
This inability to conceptualise my sentiment.
I'm magnetic to your waffled fingers, and you're blind
To palpability.
Your purity pours into me like a purgation I've never known;
A thousand sins, each recognised, loved.
How many words have we swapped?
I pine, boy, and ponder upon the postulates you follow
To place a seed into my soul.
Must I really bury my affections for you?
Saya ingin berdiri sebelah kamu, sebagai putri raja kamu.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
high school days I won't forget
all that nights I do regret
spent that time
on tasks and tests
Ignoring all
my cousins and friends
A teacher says tomorrow
another says today
one more exam
won't hurt a way
they teach us
what to be learnt
but in these subjects
you will never concentrate
Biology postulates
with some blood circulates
plus a little concentrate
never knew the simulates
stimulants , depressents
both are drugs components
they increase BAC
and i know my ABC
A doctor , I say?
oh no the other day
Chemistry is full of laws
with some words
I don't know
''Semipenmeable membrance''
haven't i told you so?
chemistry scientist
oh god no !!
i will pass
please go on
high school days
passes like slugs
on a traffic way
sounds not good
geology makes me regret
about all that time I spent
In one two pages my time split
just to know some folds and fualts
let me tell you
about salt domes
they go over
those rocky domes
but for me I don't care
because my hat
is over my hair
Deformation, am not so glad
don't want to know
more than that
Mathematic equations
flips my head
with rates of change
I am depressed
but in limits
I insist
about the sandwich theorem
I am impressed
tangent lines look so good
let's me know the slop, oh good
but an engineer
not that good.....
let me know
if you found my job
high school days
passes like hell
working all day
cramming all night
will my work
finally pay off
all that days
on tasks and tests
high school days
I don't know
if it's one last step
or one more slip ?!
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Flatten the Earth. Peel the orange
into a butterfly
Octahedral symmetry guarantees it
**** Euclid assumed
How can we be sure of anything anymore?
If we question the fundamental postulates
Do social norms work as postulates?
We assume X, therefore X is true
Cease your baseless premise
Stop the assumption
Deconstruct and be free
Yet we can never be free
Liberation is what we crave
A liberation from power
from language
from truth
from meaning
and yet it chases us down
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC
It's a funny sort of Understanding
when One postulates an assertion
based wholly upon interpretation
and then proceeds to refuse to allow
the reply of the Subject
before forming subjective conclusions.
So what if you're being facetious?
I can take a joke;
and if I'm the subject of the joke,
at least I'll get the context,
if it is, in fact,
a valid hyperbole to draw.
If, as you claim,
"Reality doesn't cease to exist
just because one choses to ignore it,"
then why, I must inquire,
would you send that note
and then not allow a reply?
I see a Jungian pattern here!
If you take
all of what you see
to heart so readily,
then I fear for your sanity;
I anticipate
your exclusivity.
All I do
in this particular medium
is put ideas out there,
hence the title
"Philosomancer;"
as I have said before
(not that anyone cares to investigate)
I don't necessarily subscribe
to the notions I consider and write down,
they simply provide a map
of where I am,
of where I've been,
and, perhaps,
in Time,
a notion
of where I'm going;
a truly powerful piece of information to have.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
I sit here at my desk
Attempting to compose a poem
So many subjects are going through my mind
The music is my ears
I hear the bass and drums
Friends in my life
I smile at the memories
Math in school
Proofs, postulates, and theorems
The skeleton trees blowing in the wind
Their branches are empty, for it is winter
Voices around me
Both high and deep, soothing and rough
Chills in my body
They go up and down my spine
Gum in my mouth
Sweet mint from Orbit freshens my breath
And I'm thinking of someone in my life
Who is special to me
I smile at the memories
And reminisce on the good times
Is this not a random poem?
I think it is
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
It is generally supposed we come to this place
As a just reward for treachery and traitorousness.
Indeed, nothing could be farther from the truth;
Most of my compatriots her have blindly hitched their fortunes
To some flag, some shining dogma, our fates sealed
Through an unwillingness to be sufficiently self-interested,
The refusal to abandon ship once it became apparent
That the experience upon the rocks
Would be neither enabling nor ennobling.
My own case is illustrative of the rule;
My father, noble sovereign ascending to the throne
Via parlor tricks and the rustic embrace of folk legend,
(The fornication resulting in my birth brushed aside
As some accident of mistaken identity or enchantment)
Is celebrated, beatified really, in song and legend,
Yet I, who pulled myself up by my own bootstraps as it were,
Winning his queen’s hand and defeating him on the field,
Am consigned to this unhappy place in perpetuity,
Suffering demons who hiss ******* Usurper!*
As they put me through my paces
(One takes their rebukes with a grain of salt;
They are all mad, the likely result of dealing with this glut of madmen.)
As I noted, the presence of myself and my brethren in this place
Serve as a testament to the merits of fidelity,
Which we commemorate daily, some days several times
(I confess it seems more than a touch silly,
But the necessity of creating distractions
Trumps other concerns in a locale such as this)
By staging caucus races, each participant addressing
The ******* in front of him directly,
Paying it fealty--My liege! My liege!--which is answered in turn
By a cannonade of noxious farting
(We assume the smells to be offensive,
As the atmosphere here is somewhat deleterious at all times)
All to the great amusement of those sprites
Who observe our machinations,
They in turn guffawing madly and urinating downward upon us
While we, as the acidic waste corrodes us, also cackle like lunatics,
Fairly shouting Ah, the gentle rain of Heaven--thank you, Lord!
Though, oddly enough, our laughter at times
(Most likely due to the aridity of the atmosphere around us)
Seems to catch a bit in the throat.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
removed
restraints
detained
complaints
numb
sustains
cataclysmic chain
anchored in my brain
convulsing
in my spine
destiny designed
to terminate
sensation
existence
is a crime
when your lost
traversing universes
in search of solid
ground
dissolution
seems a perfect
summation
of the postulates
that compose
the posture
of this empty shell
like a mismatched
skeleton
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
Where truth itself defines
The postulates of humankind
Where the blaze of dreams is alright
And burns with all its might
Where humanity conquers over
The darkness deep inside
Where every man is free
And live a decent life
Where the do not die
But are in golden words immortalized
Where the right and just do not succumb
To the devil's evil designs
Where thoughts are acknowledged
The light of hope is shown
Where knowledge defeats ignorance
The ultimate truth is known
Where the river of piety flows
From glacier of purity, undeterred
To serve those all those suffering
Their own illusions' plight
Where sun of conscience glows
And where that glow is bright
Where restless souls find
There goals in this holy life
And are not by sinful desires enticed
Where earth is adored
Life is respected
Good work is appreciated
Goals are met with
Where there isn't any greed
Where corrupt souls are enlightened
This holy mind is freed
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 10:04 AM UTC
I'm from the side of the tracks where you won't come back
Sometimes fade to white, sometimes to black
Secreting the pus of another failed lust
My intentions only bending on a whim or a ****
So break the glass over my face and watch me go hard
If I got no other outlet you better hope you'll go far
Because sickles and hammers aren't only symbolic
They can be used to intrude on your systems metabolic
Contortionists form a fist and slick the road for communists
A bottomless populace heavy handed and cacophonous
Desolate like postulates from existentialists, mop your ****
And follow it with sawed-off **** shotguns for columnists
So open up these ******* veins, I got no reason to try and change
Scatter-brained, like blood insane in dark fantasies untamed
Unchained and ********* and horse-laced with your taste
My way is the highway so don't **** with my **** deranged
I'm sick like
*** it's exciting
To know you're dying
From the first breath
You're primed for death
And there's nothing left
Like 21 grams
And ***** sexts
It's a blank slate
And my blood's paint
For the walls of
The Satanic Saints
To **** my brain
And **** myself
Because it's easier
Than killing everyone else
No ******* effort, no giving a ****
Surely I am broken like a Muslim's ****
So you're right to be scared
Sure you're checking my history
To make sure that no one
Is trying to **** me
I'm ugly, my soul is black
And I'm happily taking nothing back
I told you I needed an outlet
But don't assume I'm finished yet
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC