"preclude" poems
So it would seem,
the only difference
twixt Animal Behavior
and Human Behavior
is a capacity
for written
and spoken
Language.
-
---Epilogue--
According to various 'dictionaries,'
the word "anthrocentric" doesn't exist.
I, however, define it as the same principals of
sexism, ethnocentrism, or nationalism,
but applied to the perception
of a validated stratification of Human Beings
over the entirety of the Web of Life,
rather than to simply
the *** ethnicity or nationality
of another.
I feel
the natural world around us
is far more sacred than we are-
although we are spawned of it.
I feel
it is so much more sacred
due to an absent respect for it
and the other beings
which it hosts so well;
so selflessly.
We **** Sapiens Sapiens*
have defiled our own sanctity
via lack of respect
for ourselves,
let alone others Beings;
Human, and otherwise.
Apparently, that isn't very popular.
So many Egos
would rather depend on
intentionally small sample sizes,
while many Ids
would rather self-preclude
the challenge of self-observation
fore a mere and fleeting
(most likely destructive)
comfort.
I venture to say that is a present form of cowardice.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
By leading with heart
Using a guillotine
Is where some start
Following Zen
And learning to crawl
Through ration of arts
Savouring the indelible sweetness
Helps lead the precocious
Enjoying inclusions
Doesn't have to preclude
Seeing with eyes
Can lead to deception
Best plant the seed
Using inception
That's why the Queen of Hearts
Whispers off with your head
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
Baffled this was a question you’d have to ask, I sat tremulous. I’m insular; I’d be enamored with even the most amorphous love, but I’m not inept, and won’t preclude that answering the question is salient. And although I’m not taciturn, I’m rarely extemporaneous, so please excuse my need for verbose prose in answering said question.
You’re attractive. Your strong jaw, small chin and cheekbones were sculpted to make your own eyes glow and an artist’s eyes expostulate dreaming of anything else. Don’t dismiss this as delirium, but rather relish this recondite fact—my first crush came in the fifth grade. It was on a diminutive, outspoken girl, and I was enormous and timid, which developed into a village girl vs. Mowgli, me Tarzan you Jane, King-Kong-Ann Darrow complex. And although I believe with zealous fervor in your strength, your size still incites the young jungle boy inside me. And I hope I can say, without being terse, I’m afflicted with a mysterious affinity for red-hair.
Although I could dwell in the obvious all day, I’ll redirect from the blasé.
Abandon
beats within us both
like hearts to the same pulse,
we don’t coax smiles, we let them slip,
we aspire to happiness like falling of a log.
I have to pry open time’s lockbox and plunder
the night just to relegate the dawn. Bliss becomes
a tangible ****** making even the most existentially
exasperated docile. Knowledge that every other thought
is dominated by one another without it attenuating the magic.
Knowing that if all I have to say is it’s raining outside, you
want to hear it. Twenty-one years of my life I thought
I’d have to hunt love with a knife but you showed me
roaming where you like to wander can wake
the irreverent gods. It’s your superlative
honesty that’s only for me; that virile
smile in your eyes that bid
doubt vacate my mind
Knowing that if I went catatonic, one reproving look from you would cause my heart to break and force my hands to put the pieces back before I stopped breathing. If I could, I’d dawn you like a blanket before every dinner, dusk and dream. And most importantly, we both like crowns.
Jun 10, 2011
Jun 10, 2011 at 8:17 AM UTC
The chorus of Katy Perry's song "unconditionally" is written in the future tense. "I will love you unconditionally." This implies that current circumstances preclude love. In other words, her love is subject to conditions.
She goes on to suggest "open up your heart and let it begin."
In other words, her love will become available if and when the subject decides to receive and/or reciprocate it. This sounds like the opposite of unconditional love.
She also repeats many times "there is no fear now." Irregardless of whether she is referring to herself or the subject of her affection, it sounds like there is in fact a lot of fear insecurity and reluctance on both sides. Perhaps this was supposed to highlight the wishful thinking of a person in this situation. Perhaps this whole song is a sardonic analysis of unhealthy, obsessive, unrequited love and how difficult it is to be objective under these conditions. Or maybe Katy Perry doesn't care that her young female fan base will listen to this song and see nothing unreasonable about it. Or maybe it's like the movie Shrek where it's fun for the kids but also has some elements that only adults will understand. Maybe Katy Perry is a gifted lyricist allowing millions of people with different amounts of life experience to listen to her songs and all hear a different message. Maybe the apparent banality of her music actually allows it to function as a sort of mental mirror, forcing people to confront their inner most thoughts. Maybe that's why her music is so popular, because everyone hears it as a harmonious duet between Katy Perry and themselves. Maybe Katy Perry is like a cool kid that's introducing us to ourselves, telling us that we're cool too. Maybe, all of her listeners, whether fans or not, have been enriched by her music.
Or maybe it's just ****** pop that has been marketed very effectively.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Good old Ludwig von Beethoven
Wrote music that was greathoven
His deafness didn’t preclude
The greatness of this dude
But now, alas, he is latehoven
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 10:08 AM UTC
Our city lights,
however small in comparison,
nullify the countless Stars
of the wondrous night Sky.
Perhaps
this is analogous to how
things that seem to be
so very close,
so very small,
so very benign,
so very familiar,
so very attainable;
things of our conscious creation;
can preclude even the very awareness
of far greater,
far more beautiful,
far more powerful things;
both external and internal;
both transient and eternal;
and why we must
take great care
and
act with great tact
and
act with immense respect
if
we, as mortals:
curators of reality;
are to be trusted
with such effervescent potency.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
We've been conditioned
to project our Shadow
onto all that's around us
and then begrudge the faults we find.
Self-fulfilling prophecies and confirmation biases:
If you look hard enough for something
you're bound to find it
especially when you're subconsciously projecting it.
We've been trained to let our Shadow speak for us, to act for us
instead of confronting it and integrating it;
many act as a puppet to their Shadow
few (if any) are truly holistic in the realm of mind.
The Shadow is a powerful backseat driver:
it knows what you fear, what you desire, who you hate, and what you can't stand.
It is the manifestation of those parts of yourself
you'd sooner forget than have over for tea.
The Shadow is not something that can be discarded or destroyed
it is only a powerful source of energy and inspiration
that will run you over if you give it the chance;
it will make a zombie out of you.
A creature dominated by Shadow can be said to be a Demon;
a vessel for evil, a conduit for the Shadow's destructive potential:
We live in a demonic society.
By this definition, an evil society.
A society that uses the powers of manifestation and Shadow to breed hate and suffering
as opposed to utilizing them to help preclude such torment.
It isn't just isolated to any one country;
it is a plague upon the people of Earth the whole planet over
for the Shadow is an integral part of the human mind
and anyone can fall victim to it.
With all these counter-examples of maturity and fairness
it's a wonder anyone has any morality to speak of.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
Am I the only one who finds it deeply ironic in an almost sickening way
that, here in the United States, Armistice Day became Veterans Day?
Not saying that homage is bad to pay,
but I simply wish to say
Armistice; that is to say
the diplomatic end of War,
should preclude future Veterans.
Maybe I'm too idealistic.
Maybe I'm not idealistic enough.
In either case;
the Military is a Tool.
I mean no disrespect;
I simply mean to reflect
upon what it is I see and feel.
Still, I wish humbly to convey
happy pseudo-Armistice day!
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
a flashing neon cocktail of colour
shines a peculiar light
like a fossil washed in my jeans
it allows me to speak to Panzas donkey
in a place where black winged angels wait
providing a backdrop to unconscious geography
that can never be reclaimed
movements are that of a stage contortionist
slow and deliberate
they recollect colliding tangents
that preclude all manner of inquiry
there is an articulated confrontation
that corresponds to a drawn curtain
an ash grey partition
painted with a particularised creation
projecting in a self generated universe
an estrangement to the world of aligning
past and present
A windmill tilts and magnifies
the sense of isolation generated
by my conversation with Panzas donkey
in a realisation of the unquantifiable location
of the non-geometric dimensions of Quixotic thought
yet allows for an initiation of sensory experience
as a world that exists independently of
physical space is explored
and I realise the expansion of consciousness
is the emitted light of relative thought
that flashes in colour before me
it is my dreams, they are violet
like the sky
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
not here, here, here
-eyes closed-
a bath rub filled with bubbles
shaped like balloons rising in the air
her heart cut open, she can’t preclude
the secret nature of her love
and, he loved her, he loved her
he watched her every ballet she danced
a butterfly moving on tiptoes
tripping the light en pointe with
painted pale lips, winged eyeliner
silk Lacroix corset and feathered tutu
performing Swan Lake
at the Palais Garnier
the promised faery tale ballets
graceful movements to Tchaikovskys’s
compositions, telling the story of Odette
drowning in the lake falling to her fate
-KNOCK-
not here, here, here
-eyes open-
his voice; Laurier
her soul; punctured by her lover
a locked bathroom door
she kisses away her melancholy madness
not here, here, here
© Sia Jane
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
As I lay in the corner
hunched over in tears
you stand before me in shadow,
we've not spoken in years.
"How are you, what's it like?" I implore,
met with comfortable Silence:
Enlightenment galore.
Though you have not recently
been in this realm,
you seem to be fine
and quite underwhelmed.
"There's nothing quite like it"
you reply with a grin
"It's almost like someone
got rid of Sin,"
"Why is it you wish
to know what it's like?
Perhaps you would like
to come on a hike?"
"No, I'm not quite ready
for that I'm afraid;
I've too much yet to do today,
there's much Art to be made."
"Ah yes, so I see
this seems to be true,
but who cares for such Art,
Art made by you?"
"I care not for how many care for it,
but I do care that anyone does at all.
I wish to immerse myself in all kinds of expression,
to preclude a sort of subconscious regression.
I care not for those who seek profit, like you,
but I would like to perchance become a Prophet anew;
though not of an -ism or even an -ology,
though perhaps for some secular abstract new-found old Spirituality.
One wherein all is but creative Godself
looking at itselves
in trillions of shattered mirrors
upon multidimensional shelves
and, odd though it may seem,
All is One through it,
yet as separate, All dreams."
"You, my Child, may be a gift unto Man.
Were I alive, I'd be your number one fan."
"You flatter me, Apparition,
but you were already my fan
far before my Path ever even began.
Still, I must ask, if indeed I can;
O familiar Ghost, tell me, what is thy plan?
"My plan, my Child, is to live on within you,
to continue your journey upon this thy subtle Path.
To set ablaze this boundless passion I sense within you.
To live in the shades of greys between the Black and White
To know that you are alive.
To know that you ever lived.
Your Mother and I both deeply love you
and though I have died, I live on within you."
And that was the last
conversation I had
with my dear old friend
that I had in my Dad.
T'was not in the land of the waking
this conversation was had,
t'was in a dream he spoke to me,
my ethereal Dad.
I seek neither pity nor compassion for Pain,
I seek only to try to explain
the infinitely vivid field of Experience
to which we're all subjected by some strange spirit valence:
**Thy Path, thine in Time.
You walk it for a reason,
even if obscured.
Time unfolds thy Path,
yet before Time was it set;
thine and thine alone:
Let no thing stray thee from thy Path.**
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 4:57 AM UTC
"Fi-li-o-pi-e-tism"
*Noun:
An often excessive veneration of ancestors or tradition such that new ideas are generally discouraged, often via punishment, and conformity is strictly enforced.*
*-The Monkey Lesson-
In 1967, a psychological experiment was conducted on rhesus monkeys:*
Five monkeys (A, B, C, D, E) in a room with a ladder, upon which are bananas.
As any given monkey climbs the ladder for the food, the rest are sprayed down with cold water.
Eventually, the monkeys learn to punish the one who climbs to preclude discomfort for the group.
One monkey (A) is then swapped out for a new one (1) that hasn't gotten the cold shower.
As 1 inevitably strives for the bananas, monkeys B, C, D, and E immediately punish.
Another monkey (B) is swapped out for a new one (2) that tries for the bananas
and 1, C, D, and E punish.
A third monkey is substituted (3) and not knowing of the original circumstance reaches for food.
1, 2, D, and E drop the hammer.
A fourth is introduced (4) in place of another original member (D),
and the beatings continue from 1, 2, 3, and E.
Finally the fifth is substituted (5) in place of the final original member (E),
and the group (1, 2, 3, 4) keeps up the trend of assault.
The result is a group of monkeys
that never received the cold water treatment
that still continued to castigate any individual
that tried to climb the ladder for the food.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 6:54 AM UTC
We the $heeple of the United $tates,
in order to preclude a more perfect union,
disestablish justice,
injure domestic tranquility,
provide for the common defense of the Military-Industrial complex,
promote the general welfare of Halliburton, Monsanto, the Big-Banks and Wal-Mart,
and secure the blessings of liberty for our wealthy and their constituents,
do disdain and defile the Constitution
in spite of the People
of the United $tates of America.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
Fear not Pride.
For, I find,
Pride is necessary
to bring about certain opportunities
by which One may perhaps
learn.
I'd wager
t'is Hubris
what beareth truly immediate Danger.
Pride
can somewhat force One into various scenarios
wherein One is somewhat forced to come to terms with certain things within one's own Mind, or perhaps socially or philosophically, or some other combinations of the aforementioned and/or hitherto-unmentioned things.
Hubris, by possible continuation,
tends to sway One to overlook certain aforementioned etc. things,
and thus tends to preclude much further character development in sometimes only a few, but much more often many aspects
of one's One Life.
Tragedy indeed!
Tread lightly-
seek always Balance-
whatsoever that may mean to you-specifically-and-only-you
rather than necessarily bowing to preordained notions of Good or Bad,
for such polarity (besides being a false dichotomy)
is, shall we say:
unhealthy.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
Click to make a gift
My Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
Click to make a gift
My sadness, anger, and shame concrete plan
I will travel to Rome third-party reporting
Mechanisms examining specific
Options advocate concrete proposals
Click to make a gift
Expertise relevant disciplines need
Such tools already exist our structures
Must preclude criterion zero tolerance
Outreach psychological development
Click to make a gift
This is the church house, this is the steeple
Where the Bishop dumps words upon the people
Click to make a gift
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 8:43 AM UTC
A serious medical condition could not keep me away.
It doesn't matter what disease carry those cats that run stray.
I've got bigger problems than those seen only by day.
With no other way to show them, maybe I'll mold them of clay.
You're not superman.
But for you, my admiration is grand.
I'll spread my fears upon this land.
Reverberating sound like a lifeless fan.
If this someday becomes a cult,
It's not but my fault.
Nothing was to result,
Though we can't forget anything nor exult.
I can no longer keep it here.
My thoughts seldom cohere.
His words in and out the opposite ear.
At some time, was this world clear?
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 2:42 PM UTC
Title is a first chance at Bias
to make us feel more secure
in order to preclude discomfort
[work in progress; seeking ideas]
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
You try to capture my attention
By painting by numbers
The inescapable feelings
Are melting in my mouth
The worn off novelties and furtive commodities
I never thought I'd get this far, allow me to paraphrase
Divide and conquer
This is our valor
Different molds
Different shapes
Different models
Different makes
We have the right away
You try your best to preclude
Dissonant product placement
And learn the differences between emotion, feeling, attitude and mood
The art of subsumption
Looking for a viable something or other
I am a gun for hire aiming at those who cajole
I am a gun for hire aiming at the rigmarole
I am a gun for hire aiming at the Lords and Commons
I am a gun for hire aiming at special interest groups
Oh, shock of mercy subpoena me into extinction
But not before I get a clear consensus
Of who knows that while you get played they get paid
Then let the Copperheads lay me down under my shroud
On June 15th, a Wednesday at noon
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
He woke in the vw.
Things were getting out of hand
there was nothing but silence from the Landlord
no comments on his work
maybe he was getting to obscure for his own good
might start to think he was nothing but a *** criminal
That's not right, his ethics preclude that.
Love no *** no just killing and causing ******* pain.
That put a smile back on his face.
Over to his right dogs were barking
mad like they were afraid.
He followed the noise, down into the concrete flood channel.
Dogs were ok Judy wrote that poem about their honesty
They don't ***** you over
Or let you down.
He found the dogs. Three barking at something red.
something gutted like a fish.
Spread out.
He bent over, started to move bits, then frowned.
Louisa..
Slowly turning around he scanned the area.
Then left to check
Cat on the porch a worried woman in the window
Glad for the cat.
Someone was playing a game
He liked games.
Went to an internet cafe
logged on
saw there was a Poem from a new poet
Serial Roadkill
read it got it
time to get into character
We'll see how good you are boy
I'm no old lady
He cast a circle around the motel bed that night
had to hit the kid tied up in the bathroom real hard till she shut up
distracting him
He said the words slow. under his breath
If I find a way back to you through the dark and dawn I'll take it
a thousand circles in blood for the boy who doesn't live anymore
maybe this is what is meant to be, one final test..
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 8:59 AM UTC
…and upon the turbulent storms of thought
bodies are abandoned
driven with a canabalizing
anticpition of deathlessness
that in effortless frequencies
selects that which can never be reclaimed
whose deliberate movements
recollect those tangents
that preclude inquiry and articulate themselves
in an awareness of vanishing imagination
that by its estrangement
visits the finding of its self
in unifying bonds
that emphasizes the
immediate shape of shared perception
as of a field turning blue
in moonlight under snow
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
i thought this was it
this one is the one
that was my mantra
but happiness seems to preclude
ignoring
this that and the other
and love
love??!
tell me thats not another shade
of pure blindness
yearning seems quaint compared to this
but it still has to be something
lets invent a new word
something that screams like my heart
something that cries and rolls around
something that jumps on the bed
and laughs
and warms my bare feet
im open to suggestions
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 6:18 PM UTC
Pain I can take,
It's just nerves firing when all is said and done,
A few tiny tiny electrical impulses
Advising of damage or of hurt,
If it's not my head then
I can grasp it and isolate it and mitigate it
And bring the problem under control,
Mostly and more often than not,
Even a heart attack did not
Preclude a presentation duly prepared,
Albeit quieter and more hesitantly delivered
Than my usual confidence,
But the turning of friend
To unreasoning and un-listening foe,
This thing cannot be grasped nor quenched,
Even by a horse sized aspirin,
It leaves ones heart
Pierced with a jagged blade
That rips and tears a hole beyond
Imagining or control,
Faith and care and love
Hemorrhage uncontrolled
Like the tears that course down my face,
Or will if I permit,
The pain I cannot contain
But stoicism is my friend
This day and stoicism
Will stem the flow
Eventually
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 5:05 PM UTC
What if there was an event so monumentally Tragic
or that could be portrayed as such by the media corporations
that the Government, with it it's ulterior motives,
would capitalize on it to ensure that their own goals are met?
Any excuse to tighten the clamp of Enforcement
and to broaden the spectrum of subsidized Authority
to preclude any voice of dissent from being heard
seems to be jumped upon by those in Power nowadays.
I implore thee to ponder the chances
of a Tragedy being staged so as to put on a show
wherein Government is Director and leading role
and the Populous is the Audience.
I do not claim that this is the case
I just have my reservations.
Two dead and scores injured.
What about the bombings each day that we inflict on innocents of other nations?
What about the bombings of religious buildings by people of a different religion?
What about the executions that occur on American soil, in prisons or otherwise?
Woe is us
and us alone.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
Out of sync lately
Mistakes have been
Gravely
Impacting
Exacting
More making us angry
But strangely
As yet
Undeserving as I
Of forgiveness
She still seems to find it
Inside
Amidst dissonance
Distance
Disdain
And decay
But there’s no one
I’d still rather see
Every day
I just have to preempt
And preclude
Provocation
Not merely accept
It as my
Inclination
Jul 31, 2024
Jul 31, 2024 at 12:27 AM UTC
easy access and proliferation of firearms,
now begs a serious hard question
presenting daunting task,
quite aware that passionate
stalwart supporters of the NRA,
embrace weaponry likened
to garnering an Aboriginal trophy mask
(particularly in light of violent mass killings)
immediately forces people
of all stripes comprising this nation ask
quite aware of diametrically,
jarringly, and politically
doggedly entrenched fierce position
each polarized stance challenges,
especially when pitted
against die hard proponents
of the Second Amendment,
who would sooner burn to ash,
and/or adopt a siege mentality
glowering akin to red hot metal
regaling opportunity asper Liberal heads to bash,
than relinquish (lock, stock and barrel)
prized, coveted, and cherished cache
amassed collection of firearms
permissible in accordance
with (literal interpretation
of Second Amendment
of the United States Constitution)
to mean no deterrent preclude
(birth right to equip bare arms),
deprivation against amassing a stockpile,
would trigger an immediate saber flash
and instantaneously, another Civil War, would
(with gnash of clenched jaws violently
opposing manumission
to release obedient snap, crackle
pop in je nais sais quois ***** the provocation
rendering revision, sans sacred covenant
would sting whip lash
snuffing out any first and last hope to reconcile
divisive national issue
with cool collected talking heads,
cuz shoot at the hip diplomacy
be loved American style,
that indomitable fighting
esprit de corps tis fire in belly trial
though this skeptical and devout atheist,
would welcome being proved wrong
generating the better angels to render obsolete strong
arm of the law as plucked harps evoke swan song
witnessing unbelievable savoir faire
(forcing me to retract pessimism
and willingly swallow my pride), minus long
time overdue, and negotiation
celebrated with tolling from a gong.
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 4:14 AM UTC