"relativistic" poems - Hello Poetry

it's not plagiarism, rather, a collectivist coincidence - i can't believe people in the former days would reduce themselves to plagiarism - they'd sooner die than relieve themselves of an original idea - working with a mythology - how could such differentiated people achieve copernican globalist relativistic / globalist impetus, and yet, somehow succumb to an ethnocentric - genesis of unoriginality... yes, unfathomable, the concept of polyphony, synchronicity inter-people... plagiarism is a modern phenomenon, it doesn't exists in collectivism of inter-ethnic conundrums of segregating categorization... just like evolution is god's take on the thrill of gambling... an original idea... allowing an in group focus... it could never be a plagiarism - the segregating process of techno. advancement... toward a... less cultural appropriation... and more? cultural loaning... "plagiarism"... perhaps i should "read" into solving crossword puzzles... now plagiarism is easy... any son of sam is not an arsonist... but as my continued fascination continues with andrei chikatilo... and batman, the dark knight rises scene on the plane: why would you shoot a man, before taking him into a prison cell?! ah... christine chubbuck... this fascination... will not, die... such a solemn, vernacular death... worthy of a Vatican pawn-ship of preceding the scourge of death.

0

Aug 7, 2018

Aug 7, 2018 at 9:39 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

now plagiarism is easy... any son of sam, is not an arsonist.

it's not plagiarism, rather, a collectivist coincidence - i can't believe people in the former days would reduce themselves to plagiarism - they'd sooner die than relieve themselves of an original idea - working with a mythology - how could such differentiated people achieve copernican globalist relativistic / globalist impetus, and yet, somehow succumb to an ethnocentric - genesis of unoriginality... yes, unfathomable, the concept of polyphony, synchronicity inter-people... plagiarism is a modern phenomenon, it doesn't exists in collectivism of inter-ethnic conundrums of segregating categorization... just like evolution is god's take on the thrill of gambling... an original idea... allowing an in group focus... it could never be a plagiarism - the segregating process of techno. advancement... toward a... less cultural appropriation... and more? cultural loaning... "plagiarism"... perhaps i should "read" into solving crossword puzzles... now plagiarism is easy... any son of sam is not an arsonist... but as my continued fascination continues with andrei chikatilo... and batman, the dark knight rises scene on the plane: why would you shoot a man, before taking him into a prison cell?! ah... christine chubbuck... this fascination... will not, die... such a solemn, vernacular death... worthy of a Vatican pawn-ship of preceding the scourge of death.

58

Of emotion Roar thru this day These new gaps in my life Places nothing matters ever escapes Circle each other Like big time wrestlers Throwing sparks From clever costumes And it's hard radiation sleeting chest high Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

0

Dec 16, 2018

Dec 16, 2018 at 9:48 PM UTC

Denniswillis

Relativistic Jets

Of emotion Roar thru this day These new gaps in my life Places nothing matters ever escapes Circle each other Like big time wrestlers Throwing sparks From clever costumes And it's hard radiation sleeting chest high Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

13

Divinity is an infinite concept- never ending and never beginning. Before creation there was the Divine and after attainment there is the Divine. To move within the Divine Way is to move within eternity. Within the eternally passionate and spontaneous movement of Divinity is the fullness of omnipotence. To follow the Divine Spirit is to live within the shadow of creation. It is the ecstasy of “Buddhahood attained” and then laughed at in the ****** of eternity. It is Enlightenment or Holiness always, then steadfastly shunned in the decadence of their implications. To move within the oneness of the Divine is to perceive the sameness of things, but things are things and to say that they have no meaning, or that all meaning is one meaning, is to be lost within the ocean of the void- the indulgence of omnipotence. To follow the Divine Spirit is to understand the deeper meaning of things. All worlds of the escapist and the realist are both real and unreal, for the Divine is Enlightenment, but illusionary in its idealistic terms. It is the great river on its never ending journey to the sea, but to reach the ocean is to be lost, to cease to be, for it is always within the journey that one finds meaning and never at journey’s end. Those that do not know the harmony of the Divine live in materialistic emptiness. I WANT, I WANT, I WANT – a childish form of avarice, of impulsiveness and sentimentality, a continuous grasping, a world full of desire – the very foundations of fear and affliction. Those that proclaim the Divine find nothing but discriminative idealism. I AM, I AM, I AM – the indulgence of pride and love – an idealism based on a relativistic compassion, concealing in truth a desire for self-worship. For those who travel in tune with the harmonics of the Divine- IT IS, IT IS, IT IS – spirit reflects its own reward. The bonds of illusion fall as leaves from a tree in autumn; all is right within the world for Spirit moves within.

0

Nov 1, 2017

Nov 1, 2017 at 5:10 AM UTC

jason987008

Infinite Concepts

Divinity is an infinite concept- never ending and never beginning. Before creation there was the Divine and after attainment there is the Divine. To move within the Divine Way is to move within eternity. Within the eternally passionate and spontaneous movement of Divinity is the fullness of omnipotence. To follow the Divine Spirit is to live within the shadow of creation. It is the ecstasy of “Buddhahood attained” and then laughed at in the ****** of eternity. It is Enlightenment or Holiness always, then steadfastly shunned in the decadence of their implications. To move within the oneness of the Divine is to perceive the sameness of things, but things are things and to say that they have no meaning, or that all meaning is one meaning, is to be lost within the ocean of the void- the indulgence of omnipotence. To follow the Divine Spirit is to understand the deeper meaning of things. All worlds of the escapist and the realist are both real and unreal, for the Divine is Enlightenment, but illusionary in its idealistic terms. It is the great river on its never ending journey to the sea, but to reach the ocean is to be lost, to cease to be, for it is always within the journey that one finds meaning and never at journey’s end. Those that do not know the harmony of the Divine live in materialistic emptiness. I WANT, I WANT, I WANT – a childish form of avarice, of impulsiveness and sentimentality, a continuous grasping, a world full of desire – the very foundations of fear and affliction. Those that proclaim the Divine find nothing but discriminative idealism. I AM, I AM, I AM – the indulgence of pride and love – an idealism based on a relativistic compassion, concealing in truth a desire for self-worship. For those who travel in tune with the harmonics of the Divine- IT IS, IT IS, IT IS – spirit reflects its own reward. The bonds of illusion fall as leaves from a tree in autumn; all is right within the world for Spirit moves within.

6

Extravagance is characterised by the excessive expenditure of materialistic resources, where those unbridled lusts of the masses have catapulted our anthropological status from an initial experience of innocence and ****** us forth into a debauched state of relativistic and allegedly progressive utopia. Can I now be reborn into unknown astrological pastures of yesteryear, where time and space confine themselves to boundless parameters and cosmological streams trickle beyond black holes? Droplets of our soul are seeping through the cracks of superfluous constellations. Having been admonished to merely adhere to instructions, it is worth giving consideration to the possibility that we may simply lack accurate realisation. Yet, the anatomy of integrity is contextual and is juxtaposed with popular and palatable propagandist dogma. Therefore, although the nature of reality is ever-changing, there is a pattern of non-conforming adherence which spans those artistic ages of presumed literary and oratorical genius. We know that defense mechanisms are dichotomous, as they may ward off personally undesirable experiences – yet they can also inadvertently champion the cause for solitary confinement. As we unwrap this explosive socio-political gift, let us reach across the infinite gap and radically accept the folly of what is deemed to be prestigious. Let us now make a record. Saturn has rings.

0

Apr 10, 2016

Apr 10, 2016 at 4:25 AM UTC

david-barr

A Fear of the Void

Extravagance is characterised by the excessive expenditure of materialistic resources, where those unbridled lusts of the masses have catapulted our anthropological status from an initial experience of innocence and ****** us forth into a debauched state of relativistic and allegedly progressive utopia. Can I now be reborn into unknown astrological pastures of yesteryear, where time and space confine themselves to boundless parameters and cosmological streams trickle beyond black holes? Droplets of our soul are seeping through the cracks of superfluous constellations. Having been admonished to merely adhere to instructions, it is worth giving consideration to the possibility that we may simply lack accurate realisation. Yet, the anatomy of integrity is contextual and is juxtaposed with popular and palatable propagandist dogma. Therefore, although the nature of reality is ever-changing, there is a pattern of non-conforming adherence which spans those artistic ages of presumed literary and oratorical genius. We know that defense mechanisms are dichotomous, as they may ward off personally undesirable experiences – yet they can also inadvertently champion the cause for solitary confinement. As we unwrap this explosive socio-political gift, let us reach across the infinite gap and radically accept the folly of what is deemed to be prestigious. Let us now make a record. Saturn has rings.

10

Waist deep. The thick black syrup meets skin A sharp black/white line Across the pores Like a moving limb of day/night Across the distant craters of the moon. To tread deeper and pulls the surface down The mirror-black surface bending, pulling. A meniscus A relativistic bending Of space and time around a star. Deep below the surface Wiggling toes are sluggish Movement of legs are impeded A tug at each hair on legs and toes. And the hydraulic squirt of the liquid Below the soles as your weight shifts. Ah, but sometimes shallower now, Withdrawing belly skin pulls with it The deep brown-black rubbery surface That will not be left behind. It will not relinquish this new intimacy. What horror comes with the rising depths? Liquid darkness comes over shoulders, chin and cheeks. A sweet salty taste now upon the lower lip. A tug, a pull at the chin with every breath Every attempt to lift it above the surface. Fear. Darkness. Unknown. Over mouth and nose. Sticking to eyelids. Thick and warm into ears. A bubble of air tries to escape from under your chin And tickles as it pulls up on the hairs it passes. The cool open air irises-off above your head Only a momentary depression in the top surface. Until there is no record, of your having passed here. Silence. A sweet and sticky seal, impermeable between this world and the void. Silence. Push up now with strength in frightened legs. The suction is immense, the pull strong. It does not wish to let you withdraw. But you push and breaking the tension of the surface You emerge. Great thick layers of darkness remain. Hands claw great gobs of blackness from nose and mouth. A gasping, stuttered pull brings icy, bitter air. Standing now, a black shadow-ghost emerging from tarry blackness. Velvety and warm was the invitation, Soothing and intimate was the gentle touch, Silent and heavy was embrace, A smothering, airless dark at the end And silence. But sweet, oh how sweet and warm.

0

Apr 14, 2014

Apr 14, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC

ottaross

The Molasses Pool

Waist deep. The thick black syrup meets skin A sharp black/white line Across the pores Like a moving limb of day/night Across the distant craters of the moon. To tread deeper and pulls the surface down The mirror-black surface bending, pulling. A meniscus A relativistic bending Of space and time around a star. Deep below the surface Wiggling toes are sluggish Movement of legs are impeded A tug at each hair on legs and toes. And the hydraulic squirt of the liquid Below the soles as your weight shifts. Ah, but sometimes shallower now, Withdrawing belly skin pulls with it The deep brown-black rubbery surface That will not be left behind. It will not relinquish this new intimacy. What horror comes with the rising depths? Liquid darkness comes over shoulders, chin and cheeks. A sweet salty taste now upon the lower lip. A tug, a pull at the chin with every breath Every attempt to lift it above the surface. Fear. Darkness. Unknown. Over mouth and nose. Sticking to eyelids. Thick and warm into ears. A bubble of air tries to escape from under your chin And tickles as it pulls up on the hairs it passes. The cool open air irises-off above your head Only a momentary depression in the top surface. Until there is no record, of your having passed here. Silence. A sweet and sticky seal, impermeable between this world and the void. Silence. Push up now with strength in frightened legs. The suction is immense, the pull strong. It does not wish to let you withdraw. But you push and breaking the tension of the surface You emerge. Great thick layers of darkness remain. Hands claw great gobs of blackness from nose and mouth. A gasping, stuttered pull brings icy, bitter air. Standing now, a black shadow-ghost emerging from tarry blackness. Velvety and warm was the invitation, Soothing and intimate was the gentle touch, Silent and heavy was embrace, A smothering, airless dark at the end And silence. But sweet, oh how sweet and warm.

54

keep barking what, mongrel?! never to a chemist what, suddenly there is no notion of a cognitive mongrel, i.e. a bilingual breed of man? i found that people complained about having a mixed-ethnic rooting, never was the case translated into the cognitive element of vocab... you are allowed an ethno-allowance "stipend" and be left off the hook if your mother was white, but your daddy was black, but then it comes to possessing two languages, good luck Buck! akin to psychiatric disorders... the pills don't work! tell that to a chemist: the **** was i doing all this time, so running, cardiovascular oxygen to the brain will solve all the problems? the last thing you want a chemist to hear is: the only medicine is exercise... i'm not saying it's perfect, but to suggest that all pill taking is bad makes the study of chemistry: pointless... might as well be studying arachnophobia! if i actually did make it into the profession i'd be as much hated as a police officer... chemistry: bad... make sure you wash your teeth with cow dung extract, and perfume yourself with freshly plucked daffodils then! jobs retain a tinge of absolutism because relativism doesn't exist between them, the only relativism shared is the relativistic fact that such jobs exists, and can exist because they are coexisting... a bus driver coexists with a cabbie because: e.g. e.g. i.e. a mechanical means of travel... psychiatry undermines the benevolence of a chemist, by over-simplifying the case-study of a cardiovascular trainer... the **** is the point running a treadmill without generating energy? you can't suddenly explain to a chemist: your pill aren't worth popping! well, that's one way of saying the currently exploration of the impotence of antibiotics... that worked... but what's the point of telling a chemist to suddenly "dig the groove" of divorcing himself from synthesising synthetic mimics? - and instead analysing analytical precursors? a chemist is not going to suddenly rephrase his quest to agree to: a futility his own work - culminating in an effective plagiarism of nature isolated... but then popularising biology and physics reduces chemistry as being the Quasimodo of science, a hunch-back ugly-face of endeavour... a science crucified in terms of modern ethic... once the only adventurous branch of science, now the most ethically conducted patron of rigour... it has truly become nothing short of a farce... something worth being ridiculous, but not inclined to be subject of ridicule.

0

Dec 9, 2017

Dec 9, 2017 at 9:13 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

keep barking / never to a chemist

keep barking what, mongrel?! never to a chemist what, suddenly there is no notion of a cognitive mongrel, i.e. a bilingual breed of man? i found that people complained about having a mixed-ethnic rooting, never was the case translated into the cognitive element of vocab... you are allowed an ethno-allowance "stipend" and be left off the hook if your mother was white, but your daddy was black, but then it comes to possessing two languages, good luck Buck! akin to psychiatric disorders... the pills don't work! tell that to a chemist: the **** was i doing all this time, so running, cardiovascular oxygen to the brain will solve all the problems? the last thing you want a chemist to hear is: the only medicine is exercise... i'm not saying it's perfect, but to suggest that all pill taking is bad makes the study of chemistry: pointless... might as well be studying arachnophobia! if i actually did make it into the profession i'd be as much hated as a police officer... chemistry: bad... make sure you wash your teeth with cow dung extract, and perfume yourself with freshly plucked daffodils then! jobs retain a tinge of absolutism because relativism doesn't exist between them, the only relativism shared is the relativistic fact that such jobs exists, and can exist because they are coexisting... a bus driver coexists with a cabbie because: e.g. e.g. i.e. a mechanical means of travel... psychiatry undermines the benevolence of a chemist, by over-simplifying the case-study of a cardiovascular trainer... the **** is the point running a treadmill without generating energy? you can't suddenly explain to a chemist: your pill aren't worth popping! well, that's one way of saying the currently exploration of the impotence of antibiotics... that worked... but what's the point of telling a chemist to suddenly "dig the groove" of divorcing himself from synthesising synthetic mimics? - and instead analysing analytical precursors? a chemist is not going to suddenly rephrase his quest to agree to: a futility his own work - culminating in an effective plagiarism of nature isolated... but then popularising biology and physics reduces chemistry as being the Quasimodo of science, a hunch-back ugly-face of endeavour... a science crucified in terms of modern ethic... once the only adventurous branch of science, now the most ethically conducted patron of rigour... it has truly become nothing short of a farce... something worth being ridiculous, but not inclined to be subject of ridicule.

97

To know To know hate You have to love first Or understand the experience from a relativistic point of view Eww To know love You have to open the word up and not judge Even though I wouldn't call that true love To know happiness You have to experience sadness, anger, and all the above To miss something you have to either be aiming or have a target in mind or have it and lose it over some period of time To know Is hard to define Because you need know the opposite The problem is we tend to forget what knowing accomplishes What knowing what the real problem is If knowing is the problem them Should you reconsider experiencing from the start again Believing you have a choice in the matter Knowing what your value is And even to know that You have to experience The thing that makes you know Consciousness

0

Dec 6, 2017

Dec 6, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC

Muegen1nk

To know

To know To know hate You have to love first Or understand the experience from a relativistic point of view Eww To know love You have to open the word up and not judge Even though I wouldn't call that true love To know happiness You have to experience sadness, anger, and all the above To miss something you have to either be aiming or have a target in mind or have it and lose it over some period of time To know Is hard to define Because you need know the opposite The problem is we tend to forget what knowing accomplishes What knowing what the real problem is If knowing is the problem them Should you reconsider experiencing from the start again Believing you have a choice in the matter Knowing what your value is And even to know that You have to experience The thing that makes you know Consciousness

24

Your watch may run faster than mine, but that won't keep me from being on time. And as special as our relativity may seem, it's not that special, for time runs from you as it does from me.

0

Nov 1, 2010

Nov 1, 2010 at 8:34 PM UTC

travis-garcelon

Relativistic

Your watch may run faster than mine, but that won't keep me from being on time. And as special as our relativity may seem, it's not that special, for time runs from you as it does from me.

4

Crawl inside, where they can't get to you. Where their questions go unanswered, as would yours, if you asked any. It is quiet here; that's one thing you can rely on. If you squint your ears you can almost hear a car passing outside. Almost. Depression is a relativistic term that is below you. You are Normal. You are Alone. You are You.

0

Nov 24, 2017

Nov 24, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC

kristo-frost

Introvert!

Crawl inside, where they can't get to you. Where their questions go unanswered, as would yours, if you asked any. It is quiet here; that's one thing you can rely on. If you squint your ears you can almost hear a car passing outside. Almost. Depression is a relativistic term that is below you. You are Normal. You are Alone. You are You.

1

Colour me optimistic But I think I'm gonna make it Gonna take that ridge And prove to the fatalistics That nothing's out of reach If you stick at it - And you're a little opportunistic. You say it's not much But it's all relativistic So please don't begrudge me My uncharacteristic Success this last week: I did loose a little weight.

0

Feb 22, 2017

Feb 22, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC

stevejeff

Worth the weight

Colour me optimistic But I think I'm gonna make it Gonna take that ridge And prove to the fatalistics That nothing's out of reach If you stick at it - And you're a little opportunistic. You say it's not much But it's all relativistic So please don't begrudge me My uncharacteristic Success this last week: I did loose a little weight.

14