"reduces" poems
In a world without technology,
can you imagine how it would be?
To not have any lights.
We'll probably stay home at night.
In a world without technology,
we'll lose forms of connectivity.
We'll not have wifi or 3G,
distance will be as it should be.
However, without technology,
We won't have people far away,
because we can only walk on foot.
Most will live at home for good.
Without technology,
perhaps there'll be more sincerity,
where more people would be seen,
not looking at their phone screens.
Instead they'll stop and listen,
giving undivided attention,
to the people by their side.
Perhaps without technology,
we would have to do things manually.
Life may be tough physically.
But with technology,
is our life really that easy?
Is the world really as it should be?
Are people living in harmony?
Or is there more strife?
More people losing their lives?
Or is there more pain,
more people dying in vain?
What about pollution?
Isn't it part of our contribution?
All the fuels and carbon,
it'll soon bring us to extinction.
Our earth today is now diseased,
life on earth is not at peace.
We can deny all this,
And this is the utter irony,
while it gives us mass connection,
It reduces engagement,
attention and perhaps even compassion.
"Across the globe, millions reported dying",
ends up being desensitizing.
Technology's connectivity,
leaves us more detached than we should be.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
Pale green fire
that consumes me.
Your gaze
reduces me to ashes.
Most
marvelous
burning.
~mce
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
1162
The Life we have is very great.
The Life that we shall see
Surpasses it, we know, because
It is Infinity.
But when all Space has been beheld
And all Dominion shown
The smallest Human Heart’s extent
Reduces it to none.
9k
Black candles burn, and the wick of life slowly reduces her beautiful self to certain uncertainty.
I don’t know about you, but I have been bewitched by the seductions of Eve.
Why?
Because she is spellbindingly irresistible in her raunchy nakedness. Babylon may reign in the guise of liberty – but how blissful truly is ignorance?
Geological mockery echoes her ****** laughter in the canyons of inevitability, whilst we stand on the precipice of conception.
So, my seasoned companion of confusion, let us rest in ontological comfort as the universe unrolls the carpet of kaleidoscopic dreams. Everything is fine.
Honestly!
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
Sleep is timed to the minute,
my breaths let out lazy smoke
icicles make goose bumps into paragraphs
books written on my arms through yellow mist
bare feet in the morning on my rooftops
counting international planes in the sky.
My migrant bones take to the sky,
each moderate minute
that passes by on my rooftops,
increases the rawness of smoke
like lung-fulls of lemon mist
spewing a nebula of paragraphs.
In the murk of paragraphs
red papery ashes explode into the sky
leaving a cloud of syllable mist.
The last fragile minute
reduces my shivers to smoke,
a winter shell of shoulders on rooftops.
Double exposed film across rooftops
turn silhouettes into paragraphs,
a congregation of vapours and smoke
speaking soliloquies into the sky.
I am minute,
dissipating into canary mist.
Billows of ocean mist
make my fingers melancholy on rooftops
where a tidal minute
freezes salty foam paragraphs
a vacation from the sky,
my mossy perch and violet smoke.
Heliotropic smoke
spirals against dense mist;
fine rain blinding the sky
soaking lemonade rooftops.
My bed of paragraphs
curls into an illegible minute.
The lilac smoke in my eyes is almost minute.
A mustard mist wrinkles the paragraphs,
like the purple sky dropping over the rooftops.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
***
***
-
There is more to a woman
than her appearance.
Look deep and see the
dragon that roars in her soul.
See how her flames reduces to
ashes all who stand in her way.
Including herself...
-
***
***
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 8:23 AM UTC
We always never though of parting
But fate decides for us
There is no use in weeping
A remembrance in ones heart
Parting was the least we expected
We part like two parallel lines
We 'll just take them as they come
The memories is what is left
We will think of one another
When we are parted
We 'll connect with our memories
Parting might be the best for us
But never the bravest step we took
Parting hurts out hearts
But might be the only answer
Parting reduces us both
But parting ways is all we got left
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 10:13 AM UTC
She stole a cigarette from his pack
if he had known
she would probably get a slap
she had been doing that since long
hoping to share death,that smoke cause
at least that's the way she thought,
this advertisement"Smoke is injurious to health"
made her think it reduces his life's length
she couldn't stop him from smoking
so she starts to smoke,instead
in order to share same living hour
she fooled herself being addictive !
today,she stole a cigarette again
but today,its for herself
he is just an excuse to make
for her to smoke again !
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
She whispers in the dark
The persuasive blackness leads me wrong
She touches my skin in flutters
Always gone before I reach her
She plays these games to rile me up
It never does
Each game teaches patience
As the blackness fades
Her blur reduces
The games are all gone in the growing light
Her breath whispers against my neck
Her touch warms my skin
The dark will bring another game
But, for now, patience wins again
cc062911
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 7:22 PM UTC
THE JOURNEY OF MY LOVE LIFE
Someone comes into my life,
We became best of friends, she starts being so
special to me,
That she becomes so close to me,
she starts to mean everything to me,
I start to miss her, and i then
realize that my life can't go on without
her, i start missing food and
sleep, My life totally changes. That
She promises me heaven on earth and
she keeps on telling me that she
is different from the ones I have ever
had. My heart gets softened till I
surrender it to this special girl I call
heaven sent
Everything goes on well, I share good
moments... but suddenly,she starts to
change after getting what she wanted,
she reduces on the texts and calls,
start to give many excuses, my so called sweet
heart starts becoming too busy for
Me...I start to cry, plead and ask
forgiveness but all in vain till I was
dumped and she move on.
I got heart-broken;I swear never to
fall in love again. I start hating love,I
start saying that all women are
the same basing on what my heartless ex
did to me , I never trust anyone again.
I live a single a life, but after sometime,
I start admiring my happy friends who are in
love, loneliness squeezes, I then
decide to try loving a gain. Another pretty lady comes into my
life, I start to think that she is
heaven sent but still I went through the
same process.
Friends that’s the journey of love, No one
who can escape it and no one who will
never get heart broken.
So if you have someone who is treating
you like a king or a queen, truly and
faithfully love that person because true
love is hard to find. Do whatever it takes
for both of you to last longer. Don’t easily
dump that person because of minor
disagreements. Call or text that person,
meet him or her and apologise.
Value that person’s effort and everything
he or she sacrifices for you. Don’t take that
person’s love for granted because
someone out there yearns for that
person’s love and care.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC
Stuck in the thick that drags me under
I struggle for breathes, grasping for the surface
The runner appears beyond the drowned
Do you see me?
A sense of familiarity blankets my surroundings
Yet it is shrouded with insecurity
The runner stops to peer into the abyss
Can you help me?
I reach to where the moon and stars used to be
Your conflicted face reduces to fear
Only hesitating before fleeing
Where are you going?
I sink deeper than before
As the runner abandons the gloom
A stream of tears left next to your footsteps
Why are you crying?
Now I am consumed
Now I am alone
And now I am tired
Why did you leave?
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 9:45 PM UTC
*we are carbon,
ashes,
craters,
two towers,
after.
rubble,
mist and manholes.
your eyes on a
cloudy day.
the aftermath of destruction.
we are leftover scratches
on gas chamber walls,
corpses,
cremations, and gravestones.
vision without glasses,
abandoned buildings,
the residual newspaper ink on
your palms.
we are static, crumbling nihilism,
aged hair, and dust sifting through
frost bitten fingers.
cavities, apathies,
blank television screens,
sketches, ghosts, absence,
dust, collapse,
driftwood.
we are driftwood, not enough
for a life-raft,
sometimes, where there is smoke,
there is no fire.
i guess it’s where we were always heading,
dulling, deconstructing, disintegrating.
after all, every thing
reduces to this.*
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
Bed sheets labeled wrinkle-free,
skin stroked
with lotions from
bottles stamped,
“reduces age-lines.”
Crevasses form
and crows’ feet caress eyelids;
folds spread
as little rivers
from her mouth.
New lotions,
more massaging
feed her desire
for perfection. Her glance
catches flaws others ignore.
Love falls short.
Heat from her lover’s body
warms her palms;
fetid kisses barely
brush her lips.
Wrinkle free love;
another misnomer.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 8:05 AM UTC
the distant eaves
irritate the groundline;
which becomes a hilly horizon
in twilight
A glance of warm colors:
is it the glory of dawn
or an afterlight?
Who knows, and no real difference;
the moonbeam will eventually
bring peace, along with loneliness
to drifting lives.
The mother tongue has reduces to silence
and the hometown as remote as paradise.
I am here, hair in wind
tells the destination of clouds.
I believe in freedom, in any variety;
as many as the ways of being nothing,
tenderly.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Lipgloss dripping candy lacquer aquamarine
Wrought silk enfolding shadows of her shoulders obscene
Drugstore ribbon laced her feet just as in my dream
She reduces me to liquid in an urban machine
On the asphalt a virile shellac.
Power like a thousand ships of industry steel
Columns fall to soldiers at the clack of her heel
Sirens’ polished poisoned fruit that drives one to ****
A Dahlia's vitality shunted and left to congeal
In that pool, then a wave of relief.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:36 PM UTC
solitary howl
growling trial chill ridden
tightening chest and pain
behind one eye
stress reduces
jelly legged machismo sulking
regression completion
seeking seclusion revolved by a reflection
churning bowel Elvis hip
flipping tripper gripping imaginary handrails
rising heat to hot spit gurgle
sweat breaking head spinning grasping
grinning
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
My family What's app group
Is homemade soup.
It keeps me calm,
Soothes me like a balm,
Reduces tension of the day,
Appeases my appetite for what is happening in some way.
Family relationship is savoury broth,
Holds a strong bond and growth.
Photos and videos,
Not to forget audios,
Are seasonings which enhance the taste,
Just some, only the best.
Gossips,jokes and sayings need time to simmer,
To reach full flavour.
Family moans and groans,
Are birthdays, death,sickness and new borns,
Raining with condolences and wishes,
Tangy, no preservatives.
Family members are garnish,
Quite a relish,
With active members as crusty croutons,
That promote sociability and traditions.
Passive members are fresh herbs,
Rarely a comment,only few words,
But,are there to bring out the lovely aroma.
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 3:29 PM UTC
A litre of hot tears fall from angry eyes..
But never it reduces the fire inside of me....
If the heavy falling rain could fight the forest fire...
Why couldnt my tears do just the same...?
Just because I come out strong,
doesnt mean there is nothing wrong.
Smiling has always been easier to fake...
Rather than to explain the Burn in 0ne's Heart ???
Every tear is a sign of brokeness,
every silence is a sign of loneliness,
I always smile and shed a secret tear...
Wishing it heals my internal scars...
I went in the rain and i walked in the dark...
Who says water helps in putting of fire?
My eyes do not show anymore tears may be..
But in my heart is heavy downpour....
How come the fire is there .. its still there...
Its the fire burning inside of me ... its burning.. burning hot..
I wish each drop of salty tear would erase the flame....
For I promise myself would never to cry again.....
Would it be worth to shed a tear of mine ever again?
Each drop of a tear is precious ...then anything in the world
No one knows its true value for they ‘ve not learnt the pain...
I hide a tear and pretend to smile...
My body is trembling my heart is burning... .....
You wouldn't know how it feels...
To have to hide a tear....
Not until you have it in your own eyes for someone so dear..
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
Of all things unknown,
easily a non-denumerable infinity, very little will drive a person to the precipice of madness like the insignificance of a statistic - say one in seven billion,
a statistic that unhinges the mind, dragging out primitive insanity, catalyzed by spurned desire,
an insanity that is raw-
raw and sick and hungry-
feeding upon itself like an epidemic, an acid that reduces one's existence to a longing for a hypnopompic eternity, some twisted fascination that becomes an elegy for the ****** one where the past with holds the future, laughing at the heart's bipolar fluctuation between absolute paralysis and pure agony, a grey stillness to a light switch flipped off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and aren't you tired yet? Are you not chilled by truth's cold whisper, shaken awake by logic's steel grip?
It is a rare prison we build for ourselves-
trapped between what we know and what we wish,
these non-existent walls of unrequited everything,
where melancholia acts as our shackles and we sit in complete silence,
content in our discontent,
because we know,
we know that escape is intangible
when you are both jailer and
captive.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
You and I are cut from the same stone.
Diamond.
The extreme pressure we face gives us our shape
our sparkle
our shine
And our formation
reduces the common denomination
of things that can affect us.
The things that do penetrate
within us, permeate.
Revolve around our universe,
Dictating our hue.
We may appear blue
or red or yellow but deep down
Our own imperfections define us,
which is why we are Brown.
While we have different varieties
Only one thing can destroy us
decisively.
Diamond.
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
” The freshness is gone the interest is lost
We portray love just for facebook post.
The madness decreases, the excitement reduces
Laden with chore our love ceases
The sparkle fades and then
We see the darker shades
Eating together,sleeping together
Still isn’t there a silent war???
This is the person I still adore
But somewhere deep I feel
“We don’t talk anymore???”
And here to describe our current situation in the relation I penned down a few words:
We stay miles apart
And you ask if it doesn’t hurt
The agony of missing
The excitement of meeting
Feeling ambivalent
But that’s how it was meant..
The freshness, the madness
The smiles on our face
The gifts the surprises
And our love never ceases
We understand the worth
Only when we are away
And then we look forth
For every passing day..
I cannot see your face
I cannot hear your voice
Then the phone rings
And our hearts make this noise
We tease each other
About having an another,
Enchants of our past
Mysteries of the future
We never fail to pour our emotion
And that’s when we feel we had “The Conversation”
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
I ate too much for breakfast today
And lunch was spent wondering if I should slip away
Wondering if I should go back for seconds
**** it, why not?
My feet jiggled nervously under the table
Trying to think of an excuse to leave
Trying to figure out how much the barbeque chicken pizza would hurt on the way back up
Trying to figure out how much I’d regret it
Trying to figure out if my body was okay
My self esteem balloons up and down
Somedays I look in the mirror and like what I see,
Think I look cute and quirky in my glasses and skirt,
Think my body is almost okay
And then like black crossing over to white, like a light switch flipped on
No inbetween
All of the sudden I am ugly
My body takes up too much space
Loving myself, loving this body seem like an impossible feat
The little critic in my head is back
And he wants to move back in,
I’m not cured
Recovery is not about loving your body
Recovery is accepting it
I’m still working on that
The calculator in my head wakes up,
Regenerates every time I’m around food
My hands still hover over the diet soda before forcing myself to pick something that scares me more
I still have to bargain in my brain
Eat a salad so I can eat ice cream and cookies
Skip lunch so I can have a big dinner
Strip naked in front of a full mirror,
Watch my body standing up, bending over, sitting
Grabbing, pinching, prodding, poking
Surveying this piece of meat
This thing
This body
That I know I need to be kind to
I weighed myself for the first time in almost a year
My toe lingered over the cold surface of a scale
Like a child about to dip his feet into water
I knew standing on that scale could drag me under
And I did it anyway
Loving myself is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done
When self hatred has been tamped into my soul
When my eating disorder was the only thing I good at
This secret lover, the most attentive one you could have
Took my hand and showed me how an empty stomach could feel like love
My eating disorder was my best friend,
The abusive relationship I kept going back to,
The most interesting thing about me,
The thing that was killing me
Having an eating disorder is easy;
Allowing yourself to slip into a disease out of your control
Having someone else make all your decisions
Your life reduces itself to the numbers on the scale
The slipping numbers on the scale assure me that everything is alright
But I can’t live like that
Having an eating disorder is easy;
Recovery is hard
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
What cloud, dim constellation
you pale moon of deep detachment from the self.
Dark moon undersea, you are unwilling to perform me
So come! It clings untold time before leaving; reduces the fat of life.
Though your gravity blots out possibility, there’s use hanging aloof
an opaque cloud, tempering all things loud, bright, and obtuse--
Now you are sealed with all time, you want kindly to observe
Stillness.
And when all time departs in a vapour,
you cling without occupation,
an array of senses, then often you begin:
sketching and sketching, and sketching.
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC