"repitition" poems
We are absurd
You and I
Fragments
We have created a fermentative reality,
Where words are symbols of relation
That you and I falsify
And Bingo was his name-o!
Ah!
Oh holy onomatopoeic jargon
What do you mean?
And how shall we bargain?
And mora is but a half step to a whole
Eek gad!
January Febuary March and April
May I introduce you to June and July
August, Sept Oct Nov Dec
Randomly systemized organs organized
Abstract or… dissonant?
But who is in charge?
12345
12345678
12345
12345678
12344
12344556
12344
12344556
“Why so serious?” said The Riddler
Mellow dramatic
Melodrama
Melancholy
Pantomimes!
Pantomimes EVERYWHERE!
They are able to speak
But alone I mime, “Do you have the time?”
Together we fall!
United I stand.
Backwards
Upside down
Inside out
And grammar
What’s in a name?
Please don’t be lame
Sarcastic and the glamour
Synonymous nonsense
Homophones and nyms
Where are the polysemes?
In the antonyms
In the antonyms!
Repitition
Exclamation
Annunciation
tions…
verbage verbage verbage
syllables and such
meaningless meaning
defining definitions with such
True or False?
Hide and Seek
Ring around the rosy
We all fall down…
We all fall down.
Black hat, white shoes, and I’m red all over.
Salt
Sour
And bitter
And dill
And
And
And
And
And
And
Ampersand
Institutionalized poetry
But I am for rhythmic prose!
No, not you
Listen to the hue
that the colors protrude
red green blue
red green blue
Black is not a color
Chrome is my favorite
I will not believe otherwise
You are an alien.
I have divided by zero
Musical dissonance
*(asterisk)
A beautiful disaster
A shadow without its owner
Wild natured wilderness
And naturally a wildcard.
**** **** **** **** ****
Etcetera.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 7:08 AM UTC
Knowing that history repeats itself
and to define a fool is also repitition
Theres madness stacked in minds of many on a shelf
mankinds unordinary fatal condition
Our generation is falling
while temporal worldy attainment rises
Technology renewed us into babies, crawling
to the new updated components that buys us
So blend up the world and fit it in your cup
i hope you choke on the faithless future that fuels you
Dont get out of bed dont wake up
when you dont know how to
The spirit of this race was depleted
when the disease of identities was treated
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
The alarm clock rings
and once again
the rooster sings
the morning new.
Slumbering flowers
lift their petals to drink
the drops of dew.
Reliable Sun
vanquishes the darkness
as he lightens the sky.
I see an honored guest
is in the garden,
his tiny nametag reads... butterfly.
But on the other side of town
someone struggles with
addiction.
Habits grab hard,
break will powers in two.
The will becomes won't
and the power is all through.
Satiated,
temporaneously satisfied.
only till the next time the habit has to be gratified.
The victim moves on trying to reassemble his day
Avoid
a crooked roaded relapse,
along the way.
Oh ghost of the host why must repitition repeat the most
and feel so good in its continuation?
Why must familiarity breed the need
for more familiar feelings?
To the point of killing control, sealing a fate,
dealing defeat,
stifle healing.
If your out there guardian soul, spirit helper, what's your roll, your goal?
Guiding with helping hand or let stand the habitualized
habit man.
Isn't there a self preservation station within?
A gland or impulse control button to switch from sin to win?
Even Edgar Allan Poe stubbed his toe on a ten step program trying to get in the door.
Ill-begotten and craven, drunken and unshaven cried the raven...never more.
Guiding spirit it ends here!
No more slave to the crave
or impulse picking from the addiction tree.
The need to repeat and repeat
the pattern becomes a self fulfilling prophesy.
Back to normalacy, complacency,
it's a moderation that one seeks.
To enjoy the ****** of bells, hallalulah wails,
a babies dimpled cheeks.
Can you do that Spirit helper, please.
Let sing the bodies vibration.
No more internal damnation.
No more self flagellation.
Allow to draw power from these words.
Think of this all as an intervention!
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC
My skin and bones have seen better days,
but I am not asking for your sympathy.
I block out the noise, still aware of the whispers.
Eyebrows creased like my stretch marks,
I want to forget what it's like to have a body.
Instead, see me for my spine
because although it is bent,
it is not broken.
It's just another thing to mend.
Cracked, twisted, and stepped on.
Justifying my hate with forgiveness,
my mirror is used to the repitition.
Finding solace in substances,
I was beautiful before the world told me different.
If only I would've seen that
before the harm was dealt.
Oh, to be faceless
in a room of familiar faces.
May 2, 2021
May 2, 2021 at 2:48 PM UTC
finite rapture
well defined. organized
organelles squirming. spurning
unnecessary imposition. repitition
severing me further.
it's still a bright fixture on the horizon
viewed at the far end of winding tunnel of mirrors.
captured in a jar. admired ideas
appreciated from afar.
trembling extended hand retracted.
strong stiches binding. scabs still crusty.
musty attics, shuffling feet.
melting.
swelltering in the possibility
of a potential interpreted properly.
I work better as an idea
than a human.
compose the tune and I'll be the words.
transpose your soul, I'll be the vibrations.
speak between the lines. I will be blinded.
Beyond thought.
we are aware that we're unaware.
Crystalize. Mezmerize.
It could be so simple.
To notice the cheeks, but not the dimples.
Four perfect points of light linger in the shadows
two by two
Ideals. a concrete truth.
Glaciers slowly crack foundations.
Pounding. Pouding.
Resounding. Cannot be ignored
before I am the boomerang
that cracks you on the head.
Blood pooling at the base of my skull
control watered down.
Concrete giving into stress
and a flower has room to bloom/
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Broken and wounded, I am a wreck
I am the shadows of dust
the sands of lost worlds
The pauses in rhythms constant
the gaps in words spoken
I believe in change
I see evolution with a revolution
only just with trust invested and not confusion
Poetry is my refuge when facing mind pollution
I slow the chaos and feel constriction
I Spiral in a twirling wave, repitition my addiction
I am mopping the dirt of my own flaws
I am a slave to this dictation
I believe in breaking free, like a tender worn leaf
I whisper to nature and speak to trees
The sweetness conveyed sends me bees
I fly to the ocean skies and wish a cloud bright were mine
I break a hundred times, this then of success a thousand times - a sign
I am a wreck looking to work
I believe in chance and romance
I remember honour before fear and cowardice
some believe in Jesus
some believe in Science, calculations and estimations
some believe in Satan, accepting that he is a victim in this whole situation
some believe that you shouldn't believe, but that is a belief outside of the common belief logical complex
I am a wreck searching for repair
a broken lover looking for a heart none can compare
I swallow the smoke wild in the air
I am a beast of Samson's hair...
The star running on ground when cheerleaders cheer
I am a wreck looking to share, a breath of vitality with those who may dare.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
We are so young yet
Feel so done
Each milestone wraps a bow
Around an old run finalized
Let's take the new one for a spin
A journey untouched is just one to begin
We've waded in the waters of everyday
So boring, so gray
We want alochol!
The ferment of life,
Let me lull in it all
Let me dive in and feel
The bubbles in my nose
The fizzing of my mind
The growing of my carelessness
The numbing of my toes
Sip it, hold the fruit of life
It's heavy and dense but easy to slice
The skin is a facade, a
Surface just longing
To be punctured
Be prodded
Peel away all its wronged
So strange
How the flesh of our lives is repitition unearthed
But from my deirvation,
A new life,
I give birth.
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 9:09 PM UTC
Devo says,
"We must repeat"
and so it goes
day in and day out
same old, same old
but we know better
actually
because change occurs
moment by moment
and everything
changes,
although it seems
the same.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 7:05 AM UTC
Facade.
hide the face that shows the state
don’t let it humiliate,
everyday put on the hidden facade
and pray to god,
that they don’t shout
and let it get all out,
i never forget the words they said
let my mind erupt until someones dead
i wonder if that’s their goal
to crush every soul
and the victims they seek
seem happy never leak
a cent of depression
warning viewer discretion
is advised
events resized
forget the scripts i read
follow me, i’ll lead
but if you agree to follow
you just drop down below
clear your own path
don’t sit and suffer their wrath
devastation
annililation
inundation
continuation
repitition
intermission
lost nation
misinterpretation
to conclude; i’m dead inside
from everytime they lied
selfdestruction
internal eruption…
- JacobDexterCoffey--
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 7:58 AM UTC
Things that **** me
Only thrill me.
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust,
Drinking in the hopes that my bones
May begin to rust.
It may be a little crazy,
But I like to see the cuts.
Shoot me shoot me
For the ****
I know its deadly
To take these pills.
Mirror mirror
Can't you see?
All I am
Is killing me
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
The lines begin to blur
Every picture becomes every other picture
The faces all become the same face
Every expression becomes the same expression
The arch of your brows
The twist at the end of your smiles
The dusky dark eyes half lidded and sly
The aqualine line of your nose
And your high cheek bones
And your thick full painted pouty lips
The movement of your thin muscled arms in so many poses
The exact arch and curve of your bare back and toned ***
Your exposed and covered perfect *******
Clutched in your delicate gold ringed hands
Your satin skin flawless and glowing
The way your silk stranded hair cascades across your glistening body
Your are beautiful
But you are not unique
You are a repitition in the system
Ten times ten all over again
Every picture merges with the one before
And becomes part of the one after it
One woman in every frame
One idea that it's all the same
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 7:26 PM UTC
I glimpse life from a moving window.
A longing fulfilled is a tree of life!
But my heart is sick,
I have passed by the world too many times.
And now life does the same,
In this repitition of days.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
My deepest regrets
And most woeful sorrows
Are drowned away
And swept beneath
The sands of time
The fleet of moving, non-stop moving
To live in the moment
Is to feel to weightlessness
The thoughts moving in and out of your head
Like traffic jams and the ocean waves
Nothing can stop you
No nothing can
If you just keep in mind
That everything goes
Just as it comes
Keeping form is not the way that anything works
Keep it positive
The mental negatives
My prerogitive
Is to stay positive
Oh I'm positive
I'll be positive
Until the negative
Tries to take it away
But it'll never win
No, it'll always lose
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
What is there to do?
Sleep, awakened by alarm.
Go to class.
Pay attention.
Notes.
Now it's time to work!
Clock into your demise.
Eight hours later,
going home.
Tired.
Now I have to study.
Finals are coming up
Worried about grades.
Homework *****
Done.
Now it's late at night,
I need to sleep.
Distractions, texting, games.
Finally asleep.
Relaxed
Wake up and do it all again.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 11:41 AM UTC
one day left
one tinly little opening
one possibility
one daring moment
for you to find grace
im still gonna try anyway
anyway
still gonna try
still gonna try
anyway
let it come!
----
im sick of the fake love
im tired of the repitition
if you want to
SUFFER!
you will suffer
its suffering's "way"
--
one day left
an opening of the possible
an empty night
and a street
eyes at every window
eyes at every window
looking out
are they looking for you?
can you tell me?
will you tell me?
will you
see the opening
and
dare to try burst free?
if you do
you wont have to tell me
if you do
i will see
Sep 18, 2010
Sep 18, 2010 at 3:05 PM UTC
Where autumn leaves kiss the ground
That is where you will find me
Staring up into life
Watching this great cycle
The branches are like earth
And the leaves like the people
Who knows when it will end
But at least it is beautiful
The leaves need the branches
To grow up and feed
They overcome the obstacles
That life has to offer
But then it becomes their time
They turn old and brittle
Changing colors along the way
Getting ready for once last dance
And then they let go
Swirling around in the air
Finally settling down
On the cold autumn ground
Then the branches are bare
But spring soon comes
Bringing blooming flowers
And a whole new set of leaves
The repitition is endless
What a beautiful cycle of life
As I sit here and ponder
When will it be my time
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
It's beautiful, the red,
dripping down my arm.
Joining and splitting,
like a river with many divides.
It's all I see.
No matter where I look,
it's there.
The beautiful red.
It seeps down through the water,
turning the light blue into a dark, dark pink.
My life's pain and worries slipping away.
Finally it stops.
And I clean it.
Then another dream of nightmares comes into reality.
And everything starts over.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:23 AM UTC
I didn't want to be
like my mother's, mother
The one who took the slaps in silence
wore the bruises like tattoos
Swallowed the bitter medicine
of her husbands unfaithful affairs
I didn't want to be
the obedient housewife
the one that carried fear and love in her apron
and often got the two confused
I didn't want to end up that way
Cutting a smile onto my face
stitching each apology into my skin
to keep count
I didn't want to end up this way
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
With each step I take
in an attempt to move forth,
I find myself the recipient of
a new objection to my worth.
With each hostile accusation
that I take in my stride
are scores more of insults
hurled at my pride.
I promise of my innocence,
I plead to be heard.
But who would vouch for my say,
who'd consider my measly word?
Every breath I take is
considered to be tainted.
They tell me I deserve it,
it's a world that I have painted.
With this burden on my head
that I can take no more,
I finally pull the trigger
to unfurl the hurt in my core.
With the last of my breaths,
painful, slow,
I ensure that the note
in my pocket does show.
The unwanted repitition of
the words of my soul
is perhaps the last thing
to make my worthless life a whole.
An apology, a cry
to my lovely wife of late,
"I'm sorry, my dear,
that I lost our battle with fate."
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
One more
cigarette
One less thought
captured by my notebook
I know
I have two inner-pockets in my peacoat
One with Silver Sherman's
and one with the little notebook of deeper joys that follow
Yet I've spent more time
Lighting Maduro paper
than sparking ideas
onto trees that are utilized for musings
rather than consumption
I inhale carbon monoxide,
(in line following the crowd -- by choice)
Rather than exhaling the same
for the leaf-lungs of trees
I stretch for something
A dichotomy of Pockets
Paper lined for thoughts
or
Tobacco twined for my subduing
One more, One less
One more circus of circumstance,
One less bridge to nowhere
One more apple to pick,
One less bone
I wonder,
"When the sands of time
should be sifted through my hands
and not my mind?"
But my mind continuously filters,
wondering which grains of now-repurposed stone
amounts to more or less
You fool!
Stop staring at the back of the clock
Discontinue your prescription to madness!
Watch instead the gears turning
not in anxious fear,
but in wondrous awe
Everything: a means to its own end;
not an end to its own means
And yet,
blackened by the smoke,
hardened by the repitition,
you take another drag
And all I can say
is that my throat screams for tea
and my mind
for resolution
One more thought,
One less execution.
--
I know
That if I was self-driven enough
I could compose a chart
(or a melody)
that shows the correlation
between the distance of you
from my thoughts
and the intimacy of nicotine
to my mouth
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 4:56 AM UTC
You once said I would never change,
and this is what it became.
Can a girl not change?
do storm clouds in the darkest of nights not become rain,
are we all not left broken in the end,
left to pick up and begin again,
a little less hopeful than when we came,
I'd scream these questions to the high heavens,
if only I knew that the answer would beckon,
and come back to me with ease,
instead of tormenting my head with constant repitition,
in which inslaves me with dread,
and I realize, these questions, will haunt me until the end,
But really,
Can a girl not change?
she could very well focus on the bright light,
instead of waiting for the rain,
she could very well begin again, and start fresh,
forgetting the questions that torment her head,
realizing that there are things to be done,
things to be said,
and poetry, to be read.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
I, I just can't seem to understand,
why the sun sets, just to come up again,
or why people will lie,
and say they're a friend,
only to betray and hate you again,
Why can't we just lie in darkness,
never having to be seen again,
not worrying about who you see,
or what they think,
why not just lay lifes cold ways to rest,
not having to worry about whose best,
just living life, with nothing but bliss,
Because a world with no drama is what I seek,
a world where you can do what you want,
and not hear about it in a week,
or less..
depending on how fast people talk,
spreading word like wild fire,
because gossip is apparently human nature,
Which is why I've lost all faith in humanity,
because nothing gets better,
it only gets spread around and worsened
with useless lies and nonsense,
that don't make nothing better,
just worse,
because nothing gets better,
I hope this repitition is making the message clearer,
cause I swear to you, its true,
nothing gets better,
Don't believe me?
just look around,
look in yourself.
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 9:07 AM UTC
Civilisation turned us into barbarians,
Legislation turned fugitives into librarians,
Socialisation turned humanity into amphibians, cold hearted creatures looking for warmth and desire through a virtual reality,
Masked by calm, luring identities covering the cold-blooded repitilian behind it!
Religion promoted mass deception. Dividing humanity into seperate factions that blurred the internal and external vision,
I can no longer deny that this may have been a rogue mission!
To create a system,
When traced bears no roots but a stem
Layered with thick fabric, attempts to cut it down failed since time immemorial it still stands firm.
Those that tried where either incarcerated or completely obliterated.
They posed a threat, preached a word that resonated so deeply within the people's hearts the words they spoke and anyone who dared to lend an ear became enemies of the state their sentencing was extermination,
To avoid repitition other's weere reprogrammed, instituionalised through examination,
Examination that came through the form of education with the hopes or creating a new foundation with a new set of people born and bred through assimilation- a narcisstic repressing humanitarian tactic that stole true tradition by creating an ideal specimen contingent on colonisation.
If i search within me what my heart desires, what i yearn for and find out that this world cannot offer it, the only logical explanation is i was made for another world.
I still anticipate the day utopia will unfold
I will listen to the stories that have been untold
Enjoy my youth and inspire when i am old
Raise my sons to be Kings wise and bold
Continue the legacy that my ancestors foretold.
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC