"prefixes" poems
Can we exchange dialogue
from master scripts too ten minute plays?
Inhaling every exhale from your line breaks
Prefixes soothing my ear drums
intellect holding suffixes.
Allowing your stories to take me too worlds
literature can’t reach.
Where archetypes are dynamic
antagonists don’t exist
and you’re the only character not flat.
Stasis starts situations
When you’re the intrusion
I follow all stage directions
put me inside your prepositions,
cover me in your verbs
let me hold your nouns
lay my head on your adverbs
and fall asleep to your adjectives.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
as an astronaut, I spun on a rotary around the core of your existence like
you were the gravity that held me to the ground but kept me on my toes
if home is where the heart is, i'm coping with this unbearable homesickness
and I know my heart has an anarchy government, living a steel toed rebellion
but these relentless thoughts about you have gotten bad again, i don't sleep
my reckless behavior let loose, like a dog off his chain and collar and i
revisited the places you always talked about, how i dreamed to be there
with you recovering those lost feelings, and rebellion was assisting me
in the mind of my teenage angst, no autobiographies could be more
authentic than the hatred for this unrequited swelling i held in my heart
without a doubt, you're featured in my dreams more than nightmares
you couldn't be more real than the books that I hold in my hands
i'm sleeping in water filled with sharks calling me a tedious terrorist
entering their territory, leaving me with absolutely nothing
just build a bridge, get over it, if you have to, revisit my mind
maybe you'll see everyone is the enemy, not everyone is perfect
-kra
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 10:16 PM UTC
you can hear the echo via Zizek the Slovak,
well, attire me in slavic myths and
i'll be mumbling purrs in mud too
for a helium bubble to become a comedian,
i know a jittery ******* addiction
when i see one...
if one thing the catholic schooling system
taught me was how to avoid
sniffing glue and how to recognise
a Freudian apostle - still, with all
the hippy **** you'd think
sniffing glue was what Ukrainian existentialism
prescribed with paracetamol,
catholic education just said: no no.
**** me it's the late 90s and we're talking
post-Chernobyl antics...
but that's how i see the left, leftist politics,
the right
utilises prefixes and suffixes in the
old stance of simple pre- pro-
anti-
qua-
-so so...
the left? oh they're right in there...
their prefixes are
Marxist-
liberal-
Hegelian-
whatnot...
they don't
use abstract prefixes,
their prefixes
are concrete,
they want the porridge in their mouth
to ensure a slur that never comes,
among a range of onomatopoeias they argue
from the perspective of the hushed and ushered crowd,
via one observation: Stalin clapped after a speech
to enjoin with the crowd, a real big brother,
****** never clapped, a sitting-duck method;
i'm not advocating, but by a proxy placebo dynamo
experimenting, it's called experimenting with
thought rather than practising with will,
former no chance of footstep evaluation for
cult status imitable -
the left intellectual
has no rubric of thought concerning to and fro -
it has to be concrete layered and a shut off
perfect architecture without fault -
it can't be what it is -
con-
has to be conservative
pro-
has to be socialist
you once said legitimate
transparency - but you didn't say legislation -
well, the left understood it as legislation,
the right too wanted legitimate transparency -
the green party said we could have neither
but could have the replanting of a thousand
oak trees with a Robin Hood placard on the first
oak tree replanted in Sherwood Forest...
b. ~ d. ~... shot ~100 bent arrows into a bullseye -
hurrah! hurrah! maid marian lost her virginity
too! to a broomstick rather than maradona's
fingernail toothpick!
at an essex market the cockney shouts (out of
place): *** yer courgettes! *** yer courgettes!
ta fa a pudding! ta fa a pudding!
*** yer cucumbers! tooth firth 'un!
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
First you need to learn that they are blocks
compressed meaning and solid like rocks
individual meaning expressed
but combined a new thought is expressed
with a suffix sometimes they merge
and become other classes of words
thus relate becomes rela -tion and added a ship
to relate something becomes rela-tion-ship
the prefixes un-, post-, and de- , be-,for-, and re-
alter words and direction, you see
but the real tricky thing
is keeping track of the strings
of meaning and –fixes, and inflectional endings
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
if only it was as easy as
putting a band-aid on
and kissing it
when you were young
and you scraped your knee
off you went, crying to your mother
where she would sit you down
get a band-aid, slap it on
and kiss the top
it made everything better
you again ran off
to get more scrapes and bumps
because the band-aid was
an easy fix, it stopped the pain
in an instant
...
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 11:28 PM UTC
Words
They're all I know
They've kept me from
Suicide
Kept me from
Emotionally exploding
They helped me
Understand me
I feel sorry for the illiterate people
Because our capability
To write
Helps make us human
To see our flaws
And correct them
To tell our story
Our fantasies
Our dreams and
Our imagination is
Clearly expressed through words
Spoken and written
I love words
Love the big ones
And the small
I love compund words
Or words with prefixes and suffixes
I love words
Because I feel as though
They will never leave me
They are here until my sanity is gone,if ever
And I can smile each day knowing
That even if life isn't going great
There is a story
About a girl
Who's life is finally starting to get better.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
It starts as a faint buzz in your ears
Then you ignore it for days, even years
"It's no big deal. I'm okay," you say
"It will probably just go away."
But it never did, to your displeasure
You did say "probably" for good measure
And you wonder if that single seed of doubt
Would be how your tomorrow turns out
The buzzing grows louder like the chattering of birds
Prefixes and suffixes, but not quite words
You try to make sense of it, but try is all you accomplish
Your only clue is it was spoken in English
Days rolled by without end
The sounds seemed harder to comprehend
But soon enough, you started hearing a tiny voice in your head
The day the batteries went dead
And you take off the headphones you've been wearing all your life
Surprised to discover a world full of violence and strife
I guess that old saying is true, it appears
We only hear what we want to hear
*But you can hear me now, can't you?
Tell me you hear the cries of the widows and the fatherless, too
This war is a lie; that is all it ever was
And devour our humanity is all it ever does*
*But hearing never really gets us anywhere
Tell me what do you do now that you're aware?
Will you march on the streets and spread the word?
Or will you go on pretending like you never heard?*
*Tell me, tell me, tell me what to do
Good men are dying and we are, too
Open up your eyes; can't you see?
I am you and you are me*
**The voices grew into cacophony
A harsh, discordant sound devoid of harmony
Into a crescendo it roared along with the bombs of war
Slowly revealing to us the monsters that we are**
**First went Little Boy then down went Fat Man
The loudest noise ever created by man,
248 decibels, ending a tale of two cities
And then** ... silence.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 4:10 AM UTC
Our love is just biological and physiological.
It is too many of prefixes.
I need less BIO-logy and more LOGICal.
When our bodies are moving together you bite my neck and I say **** I hate this song”
We are not real.
Five minutes later you’ll be texting with someone else
And I’ll be occupying my new private room – kitchen.
we no longer hear each other, we just listen.
No longer see each other, just watch and look through.
All that remains in common between us is only dishes
and then it was me who bought it.
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
I'm tired of terms like his and hers
and everything in between
I'm tired of prefixes that make me feel small
like Trans or any gender at all
I just want to be plain old me
and be the person that I am
and just be liked for being myself
not curiously questioned at all
I was born a Mark, but feel like a Laura
Its really to hard to explain
Just call me what I seem to you
That's perfectly fine with me.
Lj Mark 2015
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
i see the worst in the best
and i cancel out every idea of perfection to focus on the negative prefixes of things i cant change
ill sit here and watch and let it happen because i do nothing to make myself seem useless
watching everything happen to make myself seem like i had no choice
so i don't blame myself
so i can't say its my fault
i don't want the guilt
id rather be guilty for someones elses pain than the suffer the consequences of my own
id literally sit back and watch you be killed than to sit back and watch myself destroy myself
i'm the monster and the victim at the same time
i'm the angel and the devil
choice of being the bad guy but having the intentions of a good guy with thoughts of demons interrupting the outer parts of my mind to make me change my mind
to make me see things by myself
to make me realizing i'm ruining myself
rather ruin myself than ruin you
you're the only thing i have left
the only sense of a conscious left in my soulless body i strive to find a bit
a piece
a crumb
of soul left
something to inspire me and tell me that my own self worth is more than my self pity
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
singled out.
a round clown.
it's all a fight. a flight. a struggle.
stay strong.
get along.
write me a story,
sing me a song.
when it's right,
it's not wrong.
for, against.
pro. con.
un, non.
prefixes for life.
take them in strife
cut it with a knife
and breath. . .
to succeed.
move. prove.
live.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:05 AM UTC
After Pamela Sutton’s “Forty”
Since when are words lost, numbers dominating?
Until today, it was vernacular, not mathematics.
All changed at 18
when numbers engulfed my life like a tsunami.
1 life.
1 drive to school, traffic on the 405, 25 minutes;
10-minute parking; first class at 8.
8 dollars per hour x 3 day work week = no shopping.
Under my parents’ life insurance,
for now.
One life.
One dream of commencement, a sea of black and gold;
students as adults, graduating, growing up,
careers: the only things that matter now.
One dream of wheeling a patient into the OR
and he grasps my hand.
One saved life.
66 specialties for a nurse.
8 stories in CHOC Hospital;
279 beds.
One goal for everyone; nurses, patients, families—
disease-free, healthy.
One hospital specializing in children;
one in Orange, thousands of facilities.
One late night in Riverside the kitchen fluorescents
slowly brings the eyes of two, one father, one daughter,
to a close.
58 notecards, handwriting messy and smudged.
12 prefixes, 37 roots, 9 suffixes.
44 years: 1 student: Dad.
The point where my future was clear.
One goal, one career,
one life.
The subtle hum of the white lights lulls us to sleep
as the room slowly darkens.
September 2013
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
by Arcassin Burnham
using a bunch of of words with prefixes,
i know i' blowing your minds,
i'm finding sense in progress,
from a quarter to a nickel to a dime,
far away from here,
trying to do work in a school full of fakes,
i should have stayed home,
for as long as it takes,
ready for the feelings to ignite,
and turn to flames,
ignore all situations,
but i need something to blame,
did you even notice?
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
Sometimes,
things are so hard to do
because we never try to start.
Prefixes
are always important
for finding patterns.
Like writing poetry.
Yes,
I have sat alone
in front of the paper
on the table
many times
with a pen.
I thought about
what I really needed to do first;
beautiful words with parables.
I've been sitting for hours,
walking here and there,
then sit back down again
to finish composing a poem.
But I've never finished it
until now.
Sep 5, 2021
Sep 5, 2021 at 8:28 AM UTC
I have this little pink composition notebook with that title written across it.
After feverishly writing in it while I was in Europe, a girl on our trip asked what I meant by that title.
I made up some excuse,
because when you are stuck in a room with three girls, the last thing you want to admit is that you aren't quite a girl.
This notebook is full of prose and poetry about gender and binaries and prefixes that a national merit scholar has trouble understanding.
Most people on that trip would not need a notebook on why they don't belong.
Because they do,
and I do not.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
Atoms
Ions
Protons
Neutrons
Electrons
Periodic Table
Moles
Molecules
amus
Molarity
Dilutions
Titrations
Calorimetry
Bond Enthalpy
Redox reactions
Non-redox
Oxidization
calories
Calories
Solubility rules
RICE tables
Stoichiometry
Polyatomic ions
Prefixes
Suffixes
Intensive
Extensive
Imperial units
Metric units
.
.
.
I don't understand yet
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 4:16 PM UTC
e-cigs and i-phones
every teen's downfall:
prefixes.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 11:35 PM UTC
As a language it is easy, and anyone can see
To reverse the meaning of a word is elementary
To say ‘not well’ is 2 words. Why not pare it down to one?
Just take a word and prefix it. To reverse it just add ‘Un’
‘Un’well is also poorly, which is never any fun
The opposite of doing it, is leaving it ‘Un’done
If it ain’t fair it’s ‘Un’fair. If not kind then it’s ‘Un’kind
A contract with no autograph is a paper that’s ‘Un’signed
So like I said it’s unhard to make a word reverse
Simply add an ‘Un’ to it and it becomes its own inunverse
But so often with the language a rule can be misunleading
And there are other prefixes. To learn them keep on reading
It’s ‘A’ if it’s not typical, which might sound rather bland
But a ‘Mis’ if you can’t fire or you didn’t understand
It’s an ‘Il’ if its not legal, but an ‘In’ if unsecure
An ‘Ir’ makes it not regular and an ‘Im’ says it’s unpure
It’s a ‘Dis’ to uncontinue, it’s a ‘Post’ if it’s not ‘Pre’
It’s not ‘Un’ but prefix ‘Counter’ if you fight insurgency
A friend nor longer friendly is not an ‘Un’friend but an ‘Ex’
But yes, it is the prefix ‘Un’ if it’s not what you expect
I will ‘An’ to your aerobic I will ‘Anti’ to your freeze
I will ‘Non’ if it is undescript just to put you at your ease
This might seem overwhelming but before I simplify
Please note if things are humid you should ‘De’humidify
So check if it’s an ‘Il’ an ‘In’ an ‘Ir’ an ‘Im’ or ‘dis’
A ‘Counter’, ‘Anti’, ‘Post’ or ‘De’ an ‘A,’ ‘An’ ‘Ex or ‘Mis’
If these are unappropriate when all is said and done
Yes, there is a modest chance the prefix might be ‘Un’
But in case you think you’ve got it; you’ve still got much to learn
Both flammable and ‘In’flammable mean the thing can burn
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 12:29 PM UTC
I think I may be the only man
who enjoyed lying in bed re-reading
THE COLLEGE GUIDE TO GRAMMAR
that every Andover student had to buy
while my girlfriend and her nine-year-old
son were in the living room memorizing
lines from OVER THE RAINBOW on TV.
I also enjoyed reading Webster's entire
3rd Edition Dictionary. It was Dr. Gillingham,
an Andover English teacher who had gotten
his PhD from Oxford, who introduced me
to the HARBRACE VOCABULARY WORKSHOP,
an incredible tool with which to study etymology,
a lifelong hobby of mine. Essentially, one learned
the prefixes, roots, and suffixes of the Anglo-Saxon,
Latin, and Greek languages and thereby was often
able to take an English word, it's meaning as yet un-
known, break it into its parts, and begin to understand
the meaning of the English word. I found this exciting.
The goal was not to become pedantic, but as a poet,
to be able to choose the "precise" word needed to convey
as well as possible the meaning of the entire poem.
What fun!
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Mar 20, 2023
Mar 20, 2023 at 3:32 AM UTC
Give me a dream
or two
anything that makes me
wanna wake up.
Reality has left
a bitter taste on my tongue.
no plans, promises,
or prefixes.
take my hand,
and take me away with you.
Give me a dream
Or two.
I have laid for decades, now
on the ocean bed,
a distant looker,
not caring to participate.
be the stronger undercurrent,
carry my hurt away on your
shoulder blades.
I'll take my responsibilities,
I'll thank you with my last breath.
It was a deep cut,
the blow too close to the lungs,
but it will heal,
if you only could give me
a dream or two,
to make the healing worth it.
to try to want to fight
the ghost of who I used to be.
Give me a dream
or two,
and wait
while i turn them into reality.
I was a wild thing too, you know,
till I was tamed, Broken,
moulded,
out of convenience.
I can always shed this skin,
and begin again,
but I dare not,
trod my heart,
for the grief that might follow.
the shell might not let the light in,
but it sure keeps the memories out.
Give me a dream
or two,
so I can replace
all the unwritten past tragedies,
with a hopeful draft
of future.
Give me a dream or two.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Someone once told you,
“You can always fit into the ideal
Some pins and needles and metals and creams shall do the work!”
So you can flaunt your pretty face,
“Get rid of that crooked teeth”
“ Lemons shall bleach your lips”
“Ha-ha, you have hair on your face”
“Do this to tone your arms”
“ Take this for fairer skin”
“ Time for a nose job?”
So what did you do?
You smiled with your lips closed,
For insecurities lingered there and shut them tight.
“That's better” and so the shutter bug smiled with tobacco stained teeth.
You kissed with pink and men fell in a row, but with the once purplish black, you kissed with love.
“Aw, look at you now” out came the words from someone's black lips tarnished with bleach.
When the wax strips made you cry, the same someone reminded you that pain, it's a side effect of beauty.
You did oh so many things for
That someone's validation.
Soon, you forgot your true color
You became plastic.
You disappeared as you fitted
Into the society.
You became another,just another
Pretty face
There were so many after all…
You forgot those imperfections
Those; which once made you original
Someone dragged you down
Someone stripped you of confidence
Someone pushed you into immortal insecurities.
Someone wrote for you the ideals you should stick with.
You who once used to be Her with no prefixes and suffixes, maybe sometimes garnished with smart, nice and talented
Became
Pretty eyes
Pink lips
“Did Cleopatra give you her nose too?”
And so was already decided the words of your mourners.
You are pretty
But insecure
Are you beautiful?
That someone didn't give you the instructions for that.
Flaunt your imperfections
That will make you beautiful….
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 11:04 AM UTC
hands and bones
disjoint and adjoin these
prefixes, for the hills of your
monoliths align with the lighting of the
north; and over and circular you
descend and ascend, feeling the blue of the water
and the paleness of the sky—and in
night, hanging softly, shrouding, impenetrable
valleys, immutable in their perception of your
calm, longing for the adoration of
feeling.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC