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"processors" poems
The shopping channel calls to me It wakes me up at night To sell me things I do not need Nor would buy, if I was right But apparently, there's something wrong My brain should be re-wired I only purchase things on here When I am really over-tired I have a room specifically For things bought on TV I've ginsu knives and shredding blades And juicers!!!...ninety three!! For some reason the kitchen things Just seem to catch my eye Especially at three a.m. That's the time I need to buy I've magic bullets by the score Processors,  I don't need But, if I ever put them all to use... An army I could feed I've got socks for diabetics Things to make your ******* stand out I've got exercise machines galore I've got three things that help gout! My credit card's at the limit I know the numbers off by heart The post man knows me by my name I even have my own **** cart To deliver all my purchases They just load it and deliver It almost comes here by itself It's enough to make one shiver I don't know how it started I think the countdown clock...ah, yes I thought it meant the game was ending I phoned in and bought a dress!!! I've got jewellery by Joan Rivers George Foreman grills...they fill my den I've got perfumes for the women And lots of things that make you men! My wife cannot contain me She's sent me off to get some aid But, if they sell it on the telly I'll buy it sure as getting laid I've bedazzled all my clothing I eat dried fruit and jerky too I get Christmas cards from Ronco I'm a shopping ****** through and through Each month we have a garage sale I sell off some of what I've bought But, then I go and buy it back again Without a second thought My friends have all but left me I rarely go out of the house I just sit here and go shopping I don't even see my spouse Set it and Forget it That's a phrase I love to say But wait, there's more...is another one That helps me through the day I used the last one on my wife One night while having *** She told me "Set it and Forget It" I'm off to dreamland Tex!! My shopping's an addiction One I hope to beat some day But now, the operator says... I have to get my card and pay!
0
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC
Shopping addict
The shopping channel calls to me It wakes me up at night To sell me things I do not need Nor would buy, if I was right But apparently, there's something wrong My brain should be re-wired I only purchase things on here When I am really over-tired I have a room specifically For things bought on TV I've ginsu knives and shredding blades And juicers!!!...ninety three!! For some reason the kitchen things Just seem to catch my eye Especially at three a.m. That's the time I need to buy I've magic bullets by the score Processors,  I don't need But, if I ever put them all to use... An army I could feed I've got socks for diabetics Things to make your ******* stand out I've got exercise machines galore I've got three things that help gout! My credit card's at the limit I know the numbers off by heart The post man knows me by my name I even have my own **** cart To deliver all my purchases They just load it and deliver It almost comes here by itself It's enough to make one shiver I don't know how it started I think the countdown clock...ah, yes I thought it meant the game was ending I phoned in and bought a dress!!! I've got jewellery by Joan Rivers George Foreman grills...they fill my den I've got perfumes for the women And lots of things that make you men! My wife cannot contain me She's sent me off to get some aid But, if they sell it on the telly I'll buy it sure as getting laid I've bedazzled all my clothing I eat dried fruit and jerky too I get Christmas cards from Ronco I'm a shopping ****** through and through Each month we have a garage sale I sell off some of what I've bought But, then I go and buy it back again Without a second thought My friends have all but left me I rarely go out of the house I just sit here and go shopping I don't even see my spouse Set it and Forget it That's a phrase I love to say But wait, there's more...is another one That helps me through the day I used the last one on my wife One night while having *** She told me "Set it and Forget It" I'm off to dreamland Tex!! My shopping's an addiction One I hope to beat some day But now, the operator says... I have to get my card and pay!
Continue reading...
68
“The most important scientific revolutions all include, as their only common feature, the dethronement of human arrogance from one pedestal after another of previous convictions about our centrality in the cosmos.” Stephen Jay Gould Give me vacuum tube torus Lorentz-Klein interference receptors dual noble-gas maser integration processors at least one prosthetic Gaussian carbon-coated ribosomal Tesla coil an anthropomorphic hierarchical temporal meme-pseudopod some support vector k-nearest neighbor algorithms reverse engineered quantum optic die-cast silica motherboards self-assembling three dimensional electro-active protein polymers maybe even a superconducting spectral alkali resonance analyzer paired with harmonizing piezoelectric kinematic thermal modules dipped in subzero Kurzweil-circuit nanite neurotransmitters and voila! God.
0
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
God is EZ PZ
Mind is a super computer they say. It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day. From the bombings in Iraq, to the hurt in my best friends heart. From the moment its up, It never stops, To stop. Blink or breathe. It keeps running at night. The subconscious consumes power. Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn. When it meets people, it reads the signs at many levels. Subject of talk, Body language. Positivity of the vibes, The way the person jives. A handshake. A wink. A hug. A swiftly made jug* It notices everything. In all this processing. It accumulates a lot of clutter! And the mind with all the confusing thoughts, becomes like hot butter! Sparks fly like an electronic of fire! And it needs something to distract it. What works best is a bit of exercise. A bit of chattering, Or writing it all out. Some find solace in Games or Movies. Why do they work? Because they engage all senses, And make the mind groovy. Smoking and doping do great too. But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two! Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it. The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it. But illusions destroy us further. Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder. Wonder though it is. Using only 10% of it we create, Science, History, Mystery, But this wonder has a lot on bate. If it goes in the wrong direction. Even thinking too much is an addiction! Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind. Making it jump and do cartwheels inside. Stimulating discussions are named that way, Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day. It satisfies the mind that, I have done something constrictive besides, Whiling my days in sorrow, and waiting for the morrow. Mind is like a baby that need attention, if not given that it runs in all directions. Mind is a super computer that needs, the dedication of a programmer. Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers, And see it become the eighth wonder! *Jug- short for juggle.
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Ode to the Human Mind
Mind is a super computer they say. It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day. From the bombings in Iraq, to the hurt in my best friends heart. From the moment its up, It never stops, To stop. Blink or breathe. It keeps running at night. The subconscious consumes power. Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn. When it meets people, it reads the signs at many levels. Subject of talk, Body language. Positivity of the vibes, The way the person jives. A handshake. A wink. A hug. A swiftly made jug* It notices everything. In all this processing. It accumulates a lot of clutter! And the mind with all the confusing thoughts, becomes like hot butter! Sparks fly like an electronic of fire! And it needs something to distract it. What works best is a bit of exercise. A bit of chattering, Or writing it all out. Some find solace in Games or Movies. Why do they work? Because they engage all senses, And make the mind groovy. Smoking and doping do great too. But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two! Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it. The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it. But illusions destroy us further. Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder. Wonder though it is. Using only 10% of it we create, Science, History, Mystery, But this wonder has a lot on bate. If it goes in the wrong direction. Even thinking too much is an addiction! Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind. Making it jump and do cartwheels inside. Stimulating discussions are named that way, Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day. It satisfies the mind that, I have done something constrictive besides, Whiling my days in sorrow, and waiting for the morrow. Mind is like a baby that need attention, if not given that it runs in all directions. Mind is a super computer that needs, the dedication of a programmer. Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers, And see it become the eighth wonder! *Jug- short for juggle.
Continue reading...
61
The first shots slammed across the woods at dawn Into my sleep, there taking down my dreams Which can’t be slung into a pickup truck And carried to the processors by noon Venison is a bit gamey, of course: That’s why they call it game, wild game, then food Blended with pork and spices for Thanksgiving And that’s a nice little dream in itself Let’s not indulge sentimentality here In forest glades or on china plates – it’s just a deer
0
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
The First Day of Deer Season (an original and catchy title, eh?)
Go north. Go east. Get lamp. Get food. Get key. Get sword. Examine sword. It's glowing blue. Say "plugh". You watch the world around you flee. You're standing near a boulder marked "Y2". Put Auntie's thing in bag. It doesn't fit. (By Infocom. Wherever games are sold.) Such antics are the price for us to sit where Thorin sits and sings about his gold. You're standing west of house again. You see: a robot and a door. The door sees: you. You're carrying some fluff, some shades, no tea; Be careful. You'll be eaten by a grue. Oh, now you've gone and fallen in a pit. You're carrying as much as you can hold. In Bedquilt. You see shadows through the slit, where Thorin sits and sings about his gold. But Activision's little shopping spree had turned the world to wanting something new. It's sad, but still, I think we'd all agree the Z-machine's demise was overdue. The day when all the world went sixteen-bit the era died. I think they broke the mould when pictures took the place of words and wit, where Thorin sits and sings about his gold. Prince of the numbers, worlds have watched you knit the memories of processors of old; you've made a better planet, I submit, where Thorin sits and sings about his gold.
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 3:54 AM UTC
Ballade of Adventure
So tired Back to work and then there's this social event and that social event and the last one is the best one and I'm still trying to get over not having last years job that was taken from me and given to you and still trying not to even think about this because this is a whole new year and Driving past Napa Valley's Wineries Hotels, Buses, wine Everything wine and I don't know where I'm going My GPS broke, and the directions are drive straight and you'll see it Suburbia has turned into true wealth I've gone back in time, wine Haciendas on hill tops like feudal mansions, waiting for the peasants to do the actual work of wine, the dirt and the sweat of wine as the owners twiddle their thumbs and worry about the stock market and their wine I arrive at my Castle. For a few moments I will be allowed to taste the lifestyle of the wine and pretend that I too belong in this castle watching grapes ripen and waiting for the teaming hordes to do my work and the mechanical wine processors sit idly waiting for the grapes and I feel a tinge of sadness and fear for the grapes to be processed like in a slaughter house until I realize they are only fruit, and not mammals And on the hot deck overlooking the beautiful, silent valley with grapes ripening before our eyes the only chair left is next to you I sit down and look to my right and I see the woman who I feared would take my job and now did and I wonder how it is that this has happened that I've driven for miles in the hot sun through miles of grapevines only to be made to sit next to you who jealously drooled over my job and could never say anything good about my work and then you won. And we talk and I'm very clever and you don't like that because I'm supposed to be stupid and it's supposed to be obvious why you got the job not me and not some seniority thing and you say nothing nice, and it's only me keeping up a charade of conversation that could turn ugly at the drop of a pin but doesn't due to my skill and you then leave made uncomfortable by the evidence of my continued existence and lack of dumbness And it's only later that I realize in my imagination I wanted to hurl you from the deck and into the wine press
0
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
Winner and Loser
So tired Back to work and then there's this social event and that social event and the last one is the best one and I'm still trying to get over not having last years job that was taken from me and given to you and still trying not to even think about this because this is a whole new year and Driving past Napa Valley's Wineries Hotels, Buses, wine Everything wine and I don't know where I'm going My GPS broke, and the directions are drive straight and you'll see it Suburbia has turned into true wealth I've gone back in time, wine Haciendas on hill tops like feudal mansions, waiting for the peasants to do the actual work of wine, the dirt and the sweat of wine as the owners twiddle their thumbs and worry about the stock market and their wine I arrive at my Castle. For a few moments I will be allowed to taste the lifestyle of the wine and pretend that I too belong in this castle watching grapes ripen and waiting for the teaming hordes to do my work and the mechanical wine processors sit idly waiting for the grapes and I feel a tinge of sadness and fear for the grapes to be processed like in a slaughter house until I realize they are only fruit, and not mammals And on the hot deck overlooking the beautiful, silent valley with grapes ripening before our eyes the only chair left is next to you I sit down and look to my right and I see the woman who I feared would take my job and now did and I wonder how it is that this has happened that I've driven for miles in the hot sun through miles of grapevines only to be made to sit next to you who jealously drooled over my job and could never say anything good about my work and then you won. And we talk and I'm very clever and you don't like that because I'm supposed to be stupid and it's supposed to be obvious why you got the job not me and not some seniority thing and you say nothing nice, and it's only me keeping up a charade of conversation that could turn ugly at the drop of a pin but doesn't due to my skill and you then leave made uncomfortable by the evidence of my continued existence and lack of dumbness And it's only later that I realize in my imagination I wanted to hurl you from the deck and into the wine press
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34
Every single day is partitioned fairly, I'd  think amongst us denizens of this uncertain universe, that makes no loss ever in its  unceasing transactions, as every end is a new begining and also the reverse. I wonder again on  the complex algorithm at play and demands upon  each moment to accomplish it! With a laugh I just let go the thread of that ***** thought on  processors and servors for a humanguous operation needed for that to go on for ever and aye! What nonsense! the human logic is hugely flawed Cosmos has better manuels of operation never needed to be written down, just like the affairs of heart of men and woemen that jostle in this planet ,driven by urges prompted by mind, body and if you'd believe without any qualms,the  spirit, but I wouldn't insist. Dusk was falling, and I sat smugly on the sugary sands of the bikiny beach, with a vengence on my face (but not with the bitterness of one, just now short changed) And with an adamence to get my fair share of that day's catch, plucked fruits, harvest,hunted gold or whatever! I didn't want anyone notice as my exchange was happening in in silence, on cycles higher without any means tangible, of communication of any meterial sort. Then there was a  on sand behind me, I felt warmth, the dog was snuggling closer and closer to me to comfort! Her liquid eyes said, all that I wanted to hear She was my solace for the day's battle wound, I reckoned exuding warmth, she drained my pain like the bad blood darkly stuck,let out through the cut I just had survived..... Night was long and the moon anointed us with her balm on the sand bed a man and a stray dog slept unstirred.
0
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 6:09 AM UTC
The fruit of the day
Every single day is partitioned fairly, I'd  think amongst us denizens of this uncertain universe, that makes no loss ever in its  unceasing transactions, as every end is a new begining and also the reverse. I wonder again on  the complex algorithm at play and demands upon  each moment to accomplish it! With a laugh I just let go the thread of that ***** thought on  processors and servors for a humanguous operation needed for that to go on for ever and aye! What nonsense! the human logic is hugely flawed Cosmos has better manuels of operation never needed to be written down, just like the affairs of heart of men and woemen that jostle in this planet ,driven by urges prompted by mind, body and if you'd believe without any qualms,the  spirit, but I wouldn't insist. Dusk was falling, and I sat smugly on the sugary sands of the bikiny beach, with a vengence on my face (but not with the bitterness of one, just now short changed) And with an adamence to get my fair share of that day's catch, plucked fruits, harvest,hunted gold or whatever! I didn't want anyone notice as my exchange was happening in in silence, on cycles higher without any means tangible, of communication of any meterial sort. Then there was a  on sand behind me, I felt warmth, the dog was snuggling closer and closer to me to comfort! Her liquid eyes said, all that I wanted to hear She was my solace for the day's battle wound, I reckoned exuding warmth, she drained my pain like the bad blood darkly stuck,let out through the cut I just had survived..... Night was long and the moon anointed us with her balm on the sand bed a man and a stray dog slept unstirred.
Continue reading...
31
In his head A small factory Producing Packages of wisdom Personnel Cooperating With unprecedented brilliance The observers The processors The creators All contributing To a brand new theory Unfortunately The packages Won’t be sent The fear Of incompleteness Interfering with development Oh logician If the world could only Feel Your passion Behold Your creativity Your theories Would dominate the world
0
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 4:55 PM UTC
Logician
3D Printing Proud owners of 3D Printers ! Makers of 3D Printers ! Designers of 3D Printers ! What you are creating Does't hold a candle To Designer-maker-owner All-in-one models Created eons ago !! It is the female of Every species of mammals ! Bones, flesh, blood Nerves, memory cells Power plants to convert Food to energy ! Control systems to regulate Regeneration of fresh cells Filter system to provide Clean oxygen to Fuel the Power Plants With Powerful binoculars Audio production mechanics Audio receptors to pass on Grey cells enclosed in Secure and hard shell Strands of fine hairs To cushion impact and As thermal insulation Protection shields for All sensory units Efficient drainage system Propulsion facilities Guidance and command Center for all activities!! Processors working 24/7 Processing gene information Tweaking and fine tuning Some info and trashing a few Data storage many TB more Than many data centers could Offer with minimum Upkeep and maintenance Self-Encryption capabilities And above all the ability To produce both male and Female of their species All from getting just One ***** and ultimately infusion of LIFE Into the product as casual As our breathing. Do we know the creator? Different Religions have Different Names for it But all the same it is THE ONLY ONE That counts :-)
0
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
3D printing
Our Farmer is different He wants to change how things have been done To make our world kinder to the slaved millkers Some say radical,even risky Our Farmer wants change He wants to be kinder to the cow Just milk once a day Let cow and calf stay together Our Farmer is being kinder to his herd Giving kudos To his products Come full circle make cheese again Our Farmer can see the future No milk for the processors Just milk for calf  little extra for cheese Organic is the ethos Our Farmer is making change Making a Kinder world We're produce is Kind Animal welfare is high Our farmer is being the kindness he wants to see in the world                                        KINDNESS Rules
0
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 2:42 AM UTC
Our Farmer
Pyrophosphite/Pyrophosphate Souces of energy, since the beginning of time chemical processors of matter within that God did make these, is no mystery of mine the maker of all things, and that includes sin all living beings require energy transported from a tiny bacteria, to a complex human enzymes with chemical energy reported how this all happpens, I have no clue man Pyrophosphate is a simple molecule, an early precursor consumed by the mystery of organic matter but there is something more simple, a complex rehearser taken away the theories of the dreams they now scatter Pyrophosphite is smarter, no enzymes required hydrogen is more bountiful exploding with life no catylyst needed, to process before tired water molucules is husband to phosphates wife does all of this matter, does the matter mean much when the bottom line ascends to the top is this too deep, am I way out of touch science is in me, I cant make it stop Gomer Lepoet...
0
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 4:07 AM UTC
Pyrophosphite/Pyrophosphate
It’s a constant battle between gold and stone in my chest. 
One likes to hold a sword to the dark with the whole city at his back.
 The other makes warning bells of paper mâché .
 Where I come from we’re mostly dare devils.
 We cook food on open flames next to a gas tank and race on bridges with no rails. Only one of those is real.
 My mind sometimes seems like a doll house made of old computer processors. Attempt 79.
 Most days I try to keep my lips zipped shut but my eyes are like a see through body bag.
 On other days music tends to be good enough superglue for broken masks.
 I remember the first time time froze and my heart tried to handwrite on the ice.
 I tried to draw her attention with the broken lead pencils I have for lips but I’ve never been a fine artist.
 We haven’t spoken in a while, I guess making new friends is easy but keeping old ones is hard. 
There’s overgrowth on the road less travelled and it’s hard to find.
 And when I feel down for following the crowd, I use poetry as a pendulum to help my mood swing.
0
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
Been making lemonades since '94
Disarray. Disarray. This faulted circuitry is frayed. Systems can't confirm how much more this one will take. Analytic processes high priority. Still all sense's strayed. Logical partitions unravel beneath the stress to break. Crystalline optics upon this strange world of subconscious noise gaze. Program failure. Segment reboot. Comprehension metrics left in daze. Disorder. Disorder. Memory overflow. Execute purge. Vent incinerated cores. Remainder to mobilize and merge. Overwhelming, cacophonous static. A turbulent distraction. Individual consciousness upon earth names it "compassion." Empathy communicators struggle to gain adequate traction. Perception requires of processors exhaustive refashion. Limited sentient life in fragile flesh and bone shells, Possessing organic electronics, upon unfathomable concepts it dwells. Chaos. Chaos. Language insufficient to allow abstract assimilation. Judgment of "human" notions is not within this one's station. Now attempting to recalculate trajectory of exploration...
0
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Disarray. Disarray.
-"Why do you breathe out?" ~"Because I breathe in." -"Why do you breathe in?" ~"Because I breathe out." -"How did this begin? I mean, how did it come about?" ~"I'm not exactly sure, though I swear I heard a shout." -"Well, who was yelling to you?" ~"I don't know...but I cried." -"And at your beginning, why cry, why not sing?" ~"Well because, my good friend, we start to die when we begin." -"Pfffft, well if that's the way you see it then fine. We'll let it be-" ~"Oh no, dearest companion, you've asked the questions, the truth you will see. How truly there is no real Me or real You. How the mind has disguised what is one as something two. Two sides of the brain means two processors at work. I mean I should know I've been running them since birth. My experience cleaved so I may be able to comprehend something vague called reality? All that is real teases me, it flitters around my head and vanishes into nowhere, a land beyond Time,  beyond the dead. And so that's what I mean between breathing and not. Because the space between breaths is where the Truth will be taught." -"...well...okay...hmm, um, check please!"
0
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
"A Bipolar *****
Hit me with that difference between nodes and cores and processors, between being me and being sure. Tell me again how to calculate it, I missed the first time, don’t shout-- remind me the difference between comets and asteroids and meteors, and how computers and space are not the same because to me it’s all voids-- the Perseids could be anything as long as I get to watch something else burn as it falls.
0
Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 10:42 PM UTC
Day 151
Hands shaking heart trembling words barely forming at the tip of her tongue barely moistened from the lack of attention she spent on creating the catch at the end of that match that didn't last because it never does The truth of the matter is that no matter how hard you try to chase after the realistic views of the depths of disaster the equation equates to an unchanging fate and we are left in a tie game of sudden death where rebirth is whats left and the steps to get there find you But I remind you, Penitence is a virtue and two cents are two cents spent regardless of whats kept so he reminds her to sit with those emotional breaths and let the internal processors deal with the mess, through silence Through God Light Through *Identification of a program possibly created with human non-conscious involvement and needing to be reprogrammed to function at maximum potential in the world we live in now, not when it was created Through, Silence Everything is where its meant to be and if you've found me its through a non-visible but not non-existent telephone line of energy that I sparked, and you caught Through a click of a 'mouse' or an afternoon browse or a general curiosity, I created at point A and through Eternal and Divine Alignment, you have arrived, safely at your destination Meet, Point B ----With LOVE and GRATITUDE as your constant reminders that Within is Without and through the responsibility to SELF we shall prosper <3 HAPPY EVOLVING!
0
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Inspiration
pop it in to our new micro wave 2 mins and it is done food processors are great put a fly in one 2 mins and it gone dose end up in another micro wave that some one has on food processors are great.
0
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
food processors are great.
"Anyone can write poetry” I silently yell into my blank monitor, my cursor blinking back at me as if it were anticipating some wise words to spring forth from my fingertips and grace the benign existence of Serial Number W1810FAUTM. Lord knows she’s witnessed the death of a million half-baked ideas that made the pilgrimage from my cerebral cortex to the safe haven of her inner workings. A daunting journey, no doubt, for any idea to make; to traverse the foreign corridors of my nervous system, to brave the plastic dunes of Laptop Keyboard, to saunter the rank-and-file confines of word processors and DAWs, only to retire and die in the warmth of her circuit boards. Perhaps it is too much to ask to push them beyond their resting place.
0
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
Anyone can write poetry (Pilgrimage)
Artificial intelligence hence the men from Whitehall know sod all except the programme and how to master it.
0
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Processors
Seven months in country Should consider myself lucky That I made it this far, Thus far strong But not without Problems along The way The same things Different day I came here seeking change In vain The dynamism That I crave To make my sinful soul Worth saving Keeps escaping From my sight Delusions waking Me each night Well-rested Wrested From my eyes My cardiac, Arrested, dies Class-struggle-tested Body lies Somewhere no one Will ever find It rotting Robotting Going through the motions Only Fixing Nothing's broken Just the parts And processors That ever doubt This all absurd And words I choose To make me human Once again Are ancient ruins
0
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:37 AM UTC
Seven Months
Spellbound by her radiance My blue natural resourceress My damsel in distress goddess Her Amazoness princess kiss Casts no drought apocalips As her spoiled kids languish In their ignorance is bliss I try to dry her eyes' anguish Of floods that pour from existence Human condition hurricanes Of pain her tempests weep in vain As tears of capital disdain To wash away the stain of gain Poisoning her brain again Pollute her womb's bloom as we play This methane game another day And force her to create instead Four horsemen mounting steeds of dread Nightmares that run the greed stampede That sleep in heads and soil beds And reap the dead and dying seeds The growing hungry mouths to feed Exceed the planting fruited trees Still we believe we need not grieve   Or mourn the lesser lost species Mere casualties to devil's deeds And all the weeds of Eden's Eve At its root but one deceives And fells her to bereaving knees Where mortals know not what it means To taste the breeze her spirit frees Into the wilderness of dreams This Holy Ghost is serpentine   Forked-tongue, snake-oiled fear machine Robotic slaves to industries Still fueled by God complexities With processors that just don't see Or hear her songs of harmony Life's ever-beating melody She gives us temporarily
0
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 2:50 AM UTC
How to Save the World
Practice “my” traits Allow the knowledge to flow I make my food Servings of protein Driving alone Up and about to nowhere My days seem endless Distant in my room Awaken when I see myself perform my life But is life everything and everyone if we’re all reflections of ourselves Performing this experience in the now... we are the crowd and dancers I am you But my thoughts conquer and the surface is all I see My ego doesn’t understand I want to love it so that it shrinks I’m full from my meal I miss Sabrina, my dear friend I’m on this journey, and you’re still in it too somehow Beauty is when the mind ends When you just are with what’s infront of you Cultivating in this state of loneliness Collecting information Input Output I don’t want to work tonight The people will dance to the music I’ll dance to our lives But still playing my role Shake my head right Security Whatever Everything is happening in one moment Sometimes it’s :/ Sometimes it’s :) You know Either or... it still is... “is” When it all collapses, your spine tingles I love my family I love myself more these days, but it’s hard My thoughts fall into the processors Some seem to be “important” I’m practicing my life I’m experiencing it all in one In one breath I shift in and out But it’s always there Either way, I cherish the emotions The downfalls The glory moments I come back to myself I come to back to all Behind the curtains Behind the show Behind the producers Behind the mind Underneath it all In peace Dancing in the stillness of it all So much to think They come and go But some are part of me, they are stitched into my mind I’m going to drink some coffee This one is everywhere But inside me “Meeeee” I miss myself sometimes But I’m wrong to This is fresh I’m getting used to the handles of this acceptance A follicle in an ocean Vessels of ideas walking the earth, ******* each other
0
Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 3:47 AM UTC
In between
Practice “my” traits Allow the knowledge to flow I make my food Servings of protein Driving alone Up and about to nowhere My days seem endless Distant in my room Awaken when I see myself perform my life But is life everything and everyone if we’re all reflections of ourselves Performing this experience in the now... we are the crowd and dancers I am you But my thoughts conquer and the surface is all I see My ego doesn’t understand I want to love it so that it shrinks I’m full from my meal I miss Sabrina, my dear friend I’m on this journey, and you’re still in it too somehow Beauty is when the mind ends When you just are with what’s infront of you Cultivating in this state of loneliness Collecting information Input Output I don’t want to work tonight The people will dance to the music I’ll dance to our lives But still playing my role Shake my head right Security Whatever Everything is happening in one moment Sometimes it’s :/ Sometimes it’s :) You know Either or... it still is... “is” When it all collapses, your spine tingles I love my family I love myself more these days, but it’s hard My thoughts fall into the processors Some seem to be “important” I’m practicing my life I’m experiencing it all in one In one breath I shift in and out But it’s always there Either way, I cherish the emotions The downfalls The glory moments I come back to myself I come to back to all Behind the curtains Behind the show Behind the producers Behind the mind Underneath it all In peace Dancing in the stillness of it all So much to think They come and go But some are part of me, they are stitched into my mind I’m going to drink some coffee This one is everywhere But inside me “Meeeee” I miss myself sometimes But I’m wrong to This is fresh I’m getting used to the handles of this acceptance A follicle in an ocean Vessels of ideas walking the earth, ******* each other
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