"proficiency" poems
I want to write a storm so well it blows you away
use words so mindblowing you don't know what to say
using just my words and speeches leave you wrecked and speechless
throw daggers with deadly proficiency, ones crafted from words i spit with full efficiency
i might repeat myself but i do it efficiently
spit spirit twice over to show her it sticks with me
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 1:56 PM UTC
Superpowers-
People always wonder what it would be like to have superpowers like their favourite heroes,
Their hero’s powers are purely subjective as you will see,
For the person who wishes for invisibility, ask an introvert in a business how it feels, to not feel seen, to feel like no one can hear your voice, and feel like you could not be present and no one would notice the difference,
For the person who wishes for super strength,
Turn to people who lost loved ones, people who suffered heartache, people who dealing with strife. These people have the strength to wake up in a morning, and carry on, with the weight of their emotions on their shoulders, but they know to keep moving.
A Sign of true strength.
For the person who wishes for the ability to read minds,
Stay with the people who love you, build strong relationships, care for those around you and over time you will learn their expressions, reading them a book, knowing what they’re thinking and feeling.
For the person who wishes for super speed,
Practice, master, do things with passion and dedication, the expression follows “it takes ten thousand hours to master something”, view this as a starting block. With time, speed and proficiency will come and you’ll be able to amaze the others around you
For the person who wishes for the ability to move things with your mind,
Never take what you have for granted, for it could all be taken away so quickly, soldiers who have lost their hands, or arms serving their country no longer have this ability, artists who suffer from nervous system disorders who are no longer able to create. Never take the ability of free movement for granted, you move things with your mind every day.
For the person who wishes for super agility,
Read, solve puzzles, read the news and learn constantly, agility is a loose term and mental agility is actually useful. The ability to learn things quickly, the ability to adapt and evolve is invaluable.
For the person who wishes to heal quickly,
Be comfortable with your emotions, your thoughts, and express them in a healthy manner, because if you can get comfortable with yourself, then the healing process won’t be as destructive nor be as long.
For the person who wishes to be bulletproof,
Take pride in yourself, be it your looks, your smarts, your personality, or a mixture of all three, insecurities are what make us vulnerable, but if you work on them, people will have less control over your mood and view of the world.
If you learn to do all of these things every day, even if it is not for long, over time you will seem like a superhero in a world filled with people who lost their way.
Just remember,
Superheroes help out every day people, no matter who they are.
Feb 6, 2020
Feb 6, 2020 at 6:28 PM UTC
It was the early days of the organic food craze
and my wife, ever a slave to the latest fads
(which disposition sometimes benefitted me pleasurably
but mostly cost me dearly)
made me run on an errand
(like: “Fido – go, fetch!”)
to get some organic vegetables
and arriving, I blurted out to the produce guy, stumbling:
*“Some ****** for my wife”* –
and that wise guy, Oxford-educated as he was
(though a failed Professor, so ended up at the greengrocer’s)
he said: *“That you must induce or encourage in your wife, Sir;
I cannot and will not be of service in that connection.”*
And I slowed down and I said:
“Well, dear fellow – for my wife, have you any organic vegetables?”
And Oxford-educated as he was, he did not understand such fads
having mostly a sedate and Classical demeanour
and he pointed his most English nose to the air;
and so I attempted again to sensible-phrase my inquiry:
*“Are your vegetables -
and this I ask on account of my esteemed wife -
sprayed with poisonous chemicals?”*
And the Oxford guy apprehended now, and he pronounced:
*“Poisonous chemicals for your spouse
you must procure yourself, Sir”*
Now, that was an idea. I knew Oxford-educated guys
were smart in some way or other.
And since then I have been free of my wife.
I have no need to run on errands for no baby, no more;
though I do have to count bars,
limited as my numerical skills are,
as is my verbal proficiency.
And the Oxford guy, meanwhile, I have it from the grapevine,
has set up an ******** Food Chain Store*, worldwide;
I knew he’d go places, sooner or later, far and global
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
Suffocate the broken fingers wrapped around umbilical chords
Engorged in egotistical monstrosity of deliverance
Wisdom of deformation in ribcage abortion
Captivity shackled to ***** out the nocturnal twilight of distinguished dawn
Scraped nails across the back of ****** proficiency
Scraped nails found in the brickwork
Fracture the amputated for authentication
Trust no one but the deceased
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 9:01 AM UTC
To become one with all, one must lose
their **** their wallet, their mind, their car keys
you must lose your sense of time and space so that it all becomes a dream
and you can't decipher up from left or hot from green
and you just sit
(or fall?)
until you fail and wail and bump against the grind stone 'til your skin errodes,
revealing muscle, which is weak when peeled away, to reveal
bone, ground into flour for the cupcakes and bread et al.
Let their be fights, and strife
and lice and barium
because to accept all
you must love the disgusting, the heinous, and is that what you want?
To accept all means to accept close mindedness, and chosen blindedness,
evils, weevils, steel easels,
do you really want that?
Yes.
Yes you do, if you want to become one with all.
I just want to forget the nulls and nuisances and sleep in peace and riot.
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 4:37 PM UTC
You know what inspires me, readers?
A master.
"Of what?" you might ask.
Any talent.
Any science.
Singing.
Medicine.
Dance.
Chemistry.
Painting.
Arithmetic.
Theater.
Literature.
Even something as simply beautiful handwriting.
Anyone who can execute their talent with excellency and proficiency above my own abilities, to define such a term.
All entice me into improving my own skill set
So that one day I might be a young match for the known and loved.
Inspiration.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
Echoing in a room of memories
Struggling to understand themselves
Words stuck on a ruined tongue
Aiming to become anew
Benefits of a scam
Of a game
Of a plan
But the benefits of a failure?
That's one to undermine your proficiency
Not excluding the fact that your allocation of thoughts are all over the place
Varying off center
Unintended
But carried efficiently
Like the assumption of happiness
Of trust and honesty
Subtle hints that should not be ignored
Regardless of the fact that you're in another's door
And i'm highlighting the points that should have stood out
The warnings
The symbols
Screaming, get out.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Despite my proficiency at chopping carrots with pinpoint precision,
I can’t pinpoint the moment when food stopped just being there and started being
THERE.
(Who remembers what it was like to hold a knife without a load of ****** connotations?*)
I don’t know
why or
what or
when or
how
but
suddenly food became scary and strange, and so much more than hot chocolate to melt the snowflakes from eyelashes or ice cream when eyelashes are melting, and suddenly the snowflakes started growing inside, icy icy cold in a way that the hot chocolate (with whipped cream à la polite refusal) could never have melted.
I don’t know many things.
I know a lot less than I claim to know but I know that food is life and I would say
Life is A Good Thing.
I know that people say you are what you eat. I never knew what it meant.
Never knew what it meant, that is, until I thought about you and all the things you could be.
You could be what you eat.
o Who cares if you cry when your tears are lemonade?
o I don’t mind if you style your hair in fusilli ringlets or tagliatelle straight. Both are equally delicious.
o Without trying to peanut butter-you-up, you’re exactly my cup of tea.
o I know that the only time to cry over spilled milk is when you were about to dip your biscuits in it.
o Life’s not always a piece of cake…which is why I urge you to have your cake and eat it too, whenever possible.
o You know what else I know? You’re iced to perfection with a cherry on top.
o If you’d rather, you could always be a sweetie pie.
o And let me spill the beans: the only way to tie up your shoes is with strawberry laces.
o I’d even love you for your artichoke heart, as long as it’s still beating.
o You’re the apple of my eye nonetheless.
o Everyone knows the best way to maintain good dental hygiene is to candy-floss your tic-tac teeth.
o And you can show them off when you grin and your mouth becomes a banana split on strawberry lips.
So tell me this:
Why have stars when you could have champagne shooters in your eyes?
Look, I may not know many things,
But something I’m sure of:
In order to be a truly tough cookie, you have to eat a lot of them first.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
The heart, is the hardest part to chart,
an ocean of emotion, all it's depths unmarked.
There never was smooth sailing, on such a sea as this,
teeming as it always is, with love and lust and hungry sharks.
Here you may find treasure, among wreckage and sweet memories.
So long as you remember, there's danger in this stormy sea.
Flooding with love or existing only to pump the blood?
Scientists and poets, they simply don't agree...
One man may say "It's sink or swim",
while another says "Relax and enjoy the float"
The Titanic sank on nothing but an iceberg's whim,
while many a castaway has survived, on a tiny fishing boat.
Some men set sail in search of adventure, in every corner of the sea,
while others search for business, profit and proficiency.
To steal your heart is why I'm here my dear,
oh yes, it's a pirates life for me...
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
i.
melted ice cream afternoons
bogged down
rising from asphalt
in magical mist
that transforms
the day into
a test of endurance
even dusk offers
no solace
in frozen watermelon bliss
ii.
smoke permeates fabric
hair and every surface
with peace and grit
wafting over
the crispy
edges of predawn
begging sleep
to the most stubborn
insomniac
rotisserie style dreams
till morning
iii.
there's less death today
waiting in line
in candy store nightmares
begging silence
from the jubilant
but the sky turned up
a dream state
in that beguiling beauty
is brilliance
iv.
in shadows
the earth falls silent
rustling through
tall tales
the moon births
images in hidden corners
evening strolls
turn adventures
and every day
burns quick
to be reborn slowly
v.
the weight of hell
in short tempered bites
**** will with a proficiency
unseen outside
a viper's silent hunt
ready for war
with fists losing
responsibility
breaking triple digit
pressure
vi.
Incessant banging through walls built faster than I am strong enough to demolish, cradling lace so it won't rip on my forked tongue. There is only so much care left to handle perception just trying to breathe through a smile.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
At this particular juncture
You are my salacious secret.
My impulse and my desire
Yearn for parallel,
Yet specious devotion.
Regrettably, my insight forbids
Integrating the desire with the
Collective.
Despite a substantial reciprocal fervor
And prolonged vulnerability
Which has led to my proficiency
In an art form so intricate,
My desire is transposed
And I am ensnared and subdued
By reality.
For now, you will remain
My salacious secret,
Until I accumulate the
Audacity required
To allow for such
A course of action.
Within my reverie
Is where I recede
Where my impulse and desire
Reign.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 10:25 AM UTC
Run down with incompetence, I have always been a lost cause,
Your persona of proficiency, however, blinded others from my flaws,
Shadowed by greatness, I wonder where I went wrong,
Seemingly out of place I hope to find where I belong.
Mar 16, 2011
Mar 16, 2011 at 4:39 PM UTC
i
In the impossible
I hath found the possible
As her education is far from
Terrestrial proficiency.
ii
In the death I dieth daily
She's mine starchild baby
As her gushing decorum
Is a forum to all saint's and good Samaritan's.
iii
She outdoes any in beauty
None doth cometh close
She's alive yet a ghost
Soo miraculously she sketches her maquillage.
iv
Her life-force is astounding
Spanish lingo of her's so attracting
Mine thirst for her is abounding
As a suckling I çryeth when she goeth away......
v
She maketh all nightmare's leave
Tis its her I am, tis she's me
Like a trapped bird, she set's me free
How daily do I wait her empress call to her throne!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Elsa angelica dedication
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
By application only eh?
Another test of my proficiency
Why do they care?
To pick out the defected?
To nip at the disease?
To find some sort of control over the whole ****** thing?
I'm breathing,
Viable,
Mad as a hatter in the skull cap
And I will not be put on bar graphs
I choose to be defective
Free-styling to my enlightenment
Laughing Like the Buddha
I think to myself "how precious it is to be this faulty machine"
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
a busy little thing, buzzing down the estuary,
then back again, up and back, practising.
in order to acquire, improve or maintain proficiency in it.
“I need to practise my French”
no clouds to cover . it was a gentle day
of gardens, les cloche and legume given freely.
the pronounciation was not at all as it should be,
the company all welcome.
later the v22, toy osprey. delight.
sbm.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
For the people who syllabicate their every word.
Lightning slows down when they are heard.
Intricate harmony to the beat of rhythmic melody.
Pesting each other with symmetrical rhymes and methodology.
Telling jokes about the other in syncronized bars and lines with no humility.
One phase in each minute you will hear speech in variety.
Proficiency at its best in the academy...
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 9:47 PM UTC
proficiency is key
it is knowing that while we
merely live one lonely life
it should at least be lived with glee
so to say that you must leave
is to say that you must breathe
without the heavy burden
that society begs and pleads
for you to stay in place for it
and conform to its deadly needs
you must take the longer road
if you are willing to succeed
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Poetry
We constantly deal with poetry which puts us in a soporific state,
we sit here apathetic to the cause of studying this beautiful art-
but Poetry’s breath Ad Nauseum about love and laments is bad for a date,
oblivious to the images, while attempting to turn the key we begin to depart.
Yet the door haunts us, novels, plays, yet poetry is the apex,
of this ethereal mystery within the maelstrom that is our mind,
alas this frustration is focused upon the conundrum of poetry being complex,
is it just a condensed novel, this Herculean Task of understanding the undefined.
There are many who deem poetry obsolete but tis rather far from its nadir,
now begins the unequivocally splendid power of the imagination-
hidden by poetry from the vituperative invader,
who’ve made an egregious mistake in deeming poetry a partial differential equation.
Imagination, oh what a beauty long forgotten in the age of reason-
we’ve been given Hobson’s choice, force fed Occam’s razor, given epitome-
yet good ol’ imagination persist like an excretion,
from the eyes of the true daughter of Time, Science’s proficiency.
People assume poetry is the modern day Gordian’s Knot-
well- let us assume this is Utopia, were Imagination runs wild-
as she watches her forest, a black cat surreptitiously passes a man in thought,
startled because it is Friday the thirteenth his Triskaidekaphobia acts up- this is all rather mild-
Just the tip of the iceberg was touched upon, just the tip-
Poetry and humanity is an oleaginous affair we mix but do not blend,
Or should we, poems are nothing more than what we put in, as if to dip-
just our toes, before we plunge head first into poems so as to apprehend.
Poetry is the Sun, as you are the flowers shined upon,
given warmth of knowledge and power if you are to just reach.
Not to let Poetry in as if to catch on-
give it back in your own form of speech.
Through your own imagination feed poetry,
It hungers for your reality, though not reality-
procrastinate not- hopefully,
for your conceptions are your sanity.
Or rather is fancy your faculty- decide,
it will affect your observation of poetry forevermore.
It will excite-
whether you believe it to or not- you will love or abhor.
Poetry is not arduous -
just do not assume there is a secret door.
In fact poetry is quite virtuous-
Seek only what you can give poetry, I do implore.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
Are there any words which capture wisdom?
Grief of Prophets.
Are there any words which speak enlightenment's prose?
Silence.
Are there any words which tell of an artist's hopelessness?
Time: the comparison between two differing things.
Only age can gain age's beauty.
Only in time can tell the artist's proficiency.
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 1:13 AM UTC
Today is a significant moment
Ever occurred to your dedicated career
Reaping all the rewards of commitment
Every deserving professional like you
Setting as a role model for the neophytes
In exemplifying capabilities and kindheartedness
Towards accomplishing the mission and vision
As what SPMC has envisioned for excellent service.
Rest assured that we shall all be vigilant
Ensuring to perform our work with proficiency
Being well-trained medical technologist like you
Until the day when our time to retire will come
Leaving a legacy of excellent service to SPMC
Dedication, competence and innate compassion
All identical virtues to best merit that you have shown
Describe your personality that is worthy to emulate.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 4:59 AM UTC
It all ends up this way
Destroyed mentally, and shocked as to where I was
For the past couple of months
Did I really let that happen to me?
Self defense isn't always physical
I wish I was, more strong
I wish I was, able to say no
I wish I was, someone everyone respects
Shaking, cold, confused, crying
I'm not sure what to say
There was always different shifts
Flip flopping
Never keeping your word
Instability was my worse enemy
I wish you well,
even though you don't.
I wish for harmony,
in the chaos of the mind.
I wish for pure love,
where there is no expectations in return.
I wish for strength
to get through this world.
Hatred and resentment are for people who cannot get over
the pain of the past
Blaming, pointing fingers, saying words
that really hurt deep within
Feeling relief afterwards
while the harm isn't reversible
All the things I wanted to avoid
All the things I wanted to avoid.
But I kept going, hoping, knowing that one day
this will come to an end
and each time, I will hurt more
my paranoia may be a self fulfilled proficiency
but I hate being right.
I hate being right.
Darkness within your eyes
Laughing out loud
I'm here for you,
but I will hurt you.
I love you
but I will leave
I don't have it in me
to the person,
that is right for you.
Contraction
fess up, you aren't treating me right
fess up, you jumped into this without a thought as to how to handle
fess up, you could have returned a changed person
fess up, you aren't mentally sound
to accept the love
to accept the issues of everyday life
to accept me, as a person.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
my devil's vanity wants
the endowment
the wam-bam empowerment
of unscripted, animalistic ***
mean machine / making
satiation at it's best...
red roses are sweet
candlelight, wine, and chocolate-covered
romance,
it's such a treat
to see your gentille side, lover
every chance
you buy gifts in abundance
but all i need -- i can't ask,
the prowess of an artist
you obviously have
yet the prowess of a real man
the brute strength of lust
you only have a quarter of a half
can you vandalize me
with the proficiency of a thief
pleasure me until relief
forces our worlds to shake
dry deserts in our mouths / throat,
soaked in a rough ride's wake
prowess of a true bloke : sweat and caress
pleasure me until i lose all
my breath and consciousness...
can you crave me
everyday / a ******* need
and only a real man can feed
me, increases me, releases me
the prowess of a macho man
a super / man / can
sprinkles it with thrusts
*and makes the world
taste good...*
red roses are sweet
but hunger is sustained
with only food could
****** treats
frolics on your wood
testerone prone
bites me
ignites me
prowess of a dog on a bone
damage me until i'm gone
my devil's vanity wants
© 2008 Poetic Fluffer
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
i don't think i could ever comprehend
the wildfire you incited in my heart
or why.
i can't really know
how you took a heart that never worked right
never beat logically
always beat down
and held it in your hands.
(you keep it there, you pump life into it steadily)
i won't ever experience proficiency
in the field of life-ending, life-starting, life-altering
love.
all i understand now is all i understood at seventeen when i kissed you;
that i would die without you
that no one could compare
that my heart was yours for the taking, i was forever yours for the breaking, you could leave me shaking and aching and my world quaking.
the profound inferno rages and blazes on,
leaving me always smoldering in your absence,
while my heart roars with yearn and appreciation
for the light.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
I was unskilled in kissing.
You taught me.
Made me see, what I was missing?
I was unskilled in loving.
You taught me more than just the physical.
You gave me lessons in the emotional.
My proficiency in many things was exposed.
All way down from my head to my toes.
I was unskilled with my hands.
You show me ways to use them to accomplish my goals.
And for that, I'm so thankful.
I was like many men when tested.
Afraid to admit I needed romantic lessons.
Just riding and going with the flow.
Then I met you and was exposed.
But you taught me.
You was so patience.
Which support that saying patience is a virtue.
Cause I was unskilled in loving.
Then again, one of us had to be the teacher.
And the other the pupil.
In this case, it was me.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC