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"requisites" poems
*Expletives are explored Requisites are implored Grooming artificial intelligence!* Bharti
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
Artificial Intelligence
Curtains, veils of virtual vice So, gaze through the ****** intermix of positional latency, nano-notions lost in frantic phantasm, requisites of an idle, unhealed mind. Draw the virtual screen curtains open, bring forth the lustful images to feed the circuitous appetite, lurking front-row-presence, at the keys. Unknown, undertones of desirability, poses in patient wait, online implication of fallen ways, predication of unveiling moments. As any-time-porn pours its spill of sickest gratification behind the curtain tab selective viewing. It is someone’s child the glides on rails of drawn conclusions, through windows where drapes of cyber mindlessness hang on dank walls of seedy buildings. The ***** grinder always plays the tune to which monkeys happily dance, in a world where Neanderthals hang out, unperturbed with new technology.
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May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 9:44 AM UTC
Curtains, veils of virtual vice.
the edge of green, egress — conscious permission of some inundation or cataract and the raucous facelessness of passing figures. army melancholia in situ — past greens of dread and red, some blue of course (in dapple of sunlight bordering sublimities) i submit to its silence and no longer ponder its requisites. draped by fog, helm of pines. the zigzag of deliverance swindling the disposable line of fast-paced time-hover. there's no god here. only the wind, the trellis surmising a component of nothing and happening, and all ephemera cycling across seasons forever changing and their obsolescence of ways to retain their positions until air frizzles no longer than a bated breath.
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Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
Baguio Ephemera
Look into those eyes, And try to interpret what they see. Feel a spirit so bright, I can’t tell whether it’s him or me. As the dawn of the moment breaks, I can feel myself start to shake. So he asks me what is wrong, And I try to remain strong. With impetuosity, I tell him the truth ruthlessly. To a bench he beckons, We are there in seconds. But as we start to chat, My heart begins to splat. He pleads that there must be another way, To fix the problems that I say. When the bullet dives into his heart, I can tell this was a bad idea from the start. He kisses me one last time, I just wish he could be mine. Just as he gets up to leave, I feel myself not able to breath. So as I look into those eyes, I know this isn't wise. Without hesitation, I force myself to believe this is his destination. Just as I reach into my purse he hugs me, And I know I’m his curse. But without despise, I reach for my knives. With a look of surprise, I see the life leaving his eyes. Slowly the blood takes over his **** And I wonder if I should make a dash. But instead his body falls to the ground, And I feel unbound. I kiss his pale lips as the blood, Stirs on mine with a hiss. As I turn to leave, Finally my slate is now made clean. Down my cheek resides a tear, As I reminisce when we were a pair. I bite my lip as my mind quarrels, And I question my true morals. I bend down to the earth, And I hope I can be re birthed. The knife slips into me like a glove, As I think of how he’s above. Hence I do this for my love, As my spirit flies up like a dove-
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Fallen Requisites
Look into those eyes, And try to interpret what they see. Feel a spirit so bright, I can’t tell whether it’s him or me. As the dawn of the moment breaks, I can feel myself start to shake. So he asks me what is wrong, And I try to remain strong. With impetuosity, I tell him the truth ruthlessly. To a bench he beckons, We are there in seconds. But as we start to chat, My heart begins to splat. He pleads that there must be another way, To fix the problems that I say. When the bullet dives into his heart, I can tell this was a bad idea from the start. He kisses me one last time, I just wish he could be mine. Just as he gets up to leave, I feel myself not able to breath. So as I look into those eyes, I know this isn't wise. Without hesitation, I force myself to believe this is his destination. Just as I reach into my purse he hugs me, And I know I’m his curse. But without despise, I reach for my knives. With a look of surprise, I see the life leaving his eyes. Slowly the blood takes over his **** And I wonder if I should make a dash. But instead his body falls to the ground, And I feel unbound. I kiss his pale lips as the blood, Stirs on mine with a hiss. As I turn to leave, Finally my slate is now made clean. Down my cheek resides a tear, As I reminisce when we were a pair. I bite my lip as my mind quarrels, And I question my true morals. I bend down to the earth, And I hope I can be re birthed. The knife slips into me like a glove, As I think of how he’s above. Hence I do this for my love, As my spirit flies up like a dove-
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A pen, a notebook and idleness - the three requisites for the manufacture of poetry.
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 6:29 AM UTC
Three Requisites
Days Of Distraction: The List What can they be? They seem to go on endlessly. Helping out a friend in need; Finding ways to heed the need(s) Of several needy friends in need. Ignoring things that might be done, Might be some fun And useful monetarily. Ignoring requisites of I, myself and me. Structure: that’s one key. Thinking practically; harmony. Priority to me, myself and I. Life is simple. Roof, warmth, food - Summed up sample of the simple, Which gives ample time To carry out the other, 'Other' meaning tools which further Happiness and satisfaction. Paying bills and buying, Days of duty and temptation; Stress and tension: ‘Stressed out’ grown to idiom. What to do about this ‘dream’, For dream it is. This is a list and not a scheme; Not a plan nor stratagem. Read and think, find out! The answer lies in nought but thee. (That’s you and me). You’ll see what works.* Days Of Distraction 10.21.2017 Definitely Didactic; I Is Always You Is Me; Arlene Corwin *Chatted with my 'English rose' of a daughter (raised in Oxford, England now residing in Oregon, USA.) who complained of distractions which keep her from other, perhaps more practical or and/or rewarding things. It inspired these little reflections. It will go into my collections: Definitely Didactic and I Is Always We Is You. By the way, my 16th book Birth, Death & In Between II went into publication today!
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Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 8:10 AM UTC
Days Of Distraction
I’m sorry my mind and soul Changed the locks on my heart You left me and my world When I needed you most And now you ask ‘Is everything ok?’ That answer is in a bottle Somewhere out there On the seas All the requisites All the ‘I Love Yous’ You said to me They’re in that bottle About to wash up Near the Azores Bring me the bottle And we can talk I need you * I wish you were here* I miss you Can you hear me Where did you go, my love
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Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
The Beauty Of Elapsed Time: Empty Bottle Near the Azores Islands
# Yesterday was writing when I got caught up in the hype No solid idea in my head but fiending for those likes Without realizing, drifted back Put on my old routine Code that is approval-seeking had slipped in sight unseen With resistance dredging forward; syllables I force out No clear idea the words to say or what it is about I gather up a garbage pile but spray it with Febreze The opposite I want to share for everyone to see *Poetry is a translation formatted into words The boundless dreams, creative thoughts; grounded through the absurd No rules, guidelines or self restraint should implement or use Allow your soul to lead the way; emotions are the muse* **However, I feel there's one thing each writer should possess Embedded within character: innately we possess It's not a rule or a guideline A path one adheres to More like a vessel that each word is birthed and traveled through Gives life to ink with its voice reciting what's written If poetry is the email than this is how you 'send'** If one is honest and truthful Then filled the "requisites" Defined by the Creator only he or she can set Whatever the thing we all have mulling around inside For some of us it's breaking out And others it will hide Can't quantify or explain it It's not 'one-size-fits-all' Sometimes it's clear and plain to see Some hide behind a wall Ultimately, we get it out in words, it manifests Feel at times that I can transcend Others, ripped from my chest It's not about looking "pretty" Fitting into a box We need more than 'cookie-cutter' Don't want just Goldilocks Staying intact after poured out However it finds form The beauty's in the honesty If dark, it still feels warm Emotion or experience Can both have their offspring A message screaming for a voice Wants out so it can sing Parents can see within their child beauty when others don't But beauty's found in many forms Finds ways to touch our souls Each message, voice, or energy We put down and we share Can look and feel like one before To each of us it's rare We chip off a piece of ourselves Bit of soul to donate Rippling through the Universe Each time when we create Give life to it and let it out don't warp or try to bend A tale conveyed with honesty A true 'share' when you send *There's nothing more one should expect Message belongs to you Wrap heartfelt words in blood & soul Is all that we can do* #
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
The Hype Man Caught Me
# Yesterday was writing when I got caught up in the hype No solid idea in my head but fiending for those likes Without realizing, drifted back Put on my old routine Code that is approval-seeking had slipped in sight unseen With resistance dredging forward; syllables I force out No clear idea the words to say or what it is about I gather up a garbage pile but spray it with Febreze The opposite I want to share for everyone to see *Poetry is a translation formatted into words The boundless dreams, creative thoughts; grounded through the absurd No rules, guidelines or self restraint should implement or use Allow your soul to lead the way; emotions are the muse* **However, I feel there's one thing each writer should possess Embedded within character: innately we possess It's not a rule or a guideline A path one adheres to More like a vessel that each word is birthed and traveled through Gives life to ink with its voice reciting what's written If poetry is the email than this is how you 'send'** If one is honest and truthful Then filled the "requisites" Defined by the Creator only he or she can set Whatever the thing we all have mulling around inside For some of us it's breaking out And others it will hide Can't quantify or explain it It's not 'one-size-fits-all' Sometimes it's clear and plain to see Some hide behind a wall Ultimately, we get it out in words, it manifests Feel at times that I can transcend Others, ripped from my chest It's not about looking "pretty" Fitting into a box We need more than 'cookie-cutter' Don't want just Goldilocks Staying intact after poured out However it finds form The beauty's in the honesty If dark, it still feels warm Emotion or experience Can both have their offspring A message screaming for a voice Wants out so it can sing Parents can see within their child beauty when others don't But beauty's found in many forms Finds ways to touch our souls Each message, voice, or energy We put down and we share Can look and feel like one before To each of us it's rare We chip off a piece of ourselves Bit of soul to donate Rippling through the Universe Each time when we create Give life to it and let it out don't warp or try to bend A tale conveyed with honesty A true 'share' when you send *There's nothing more one should expect Message belongs to you Wrap heartfelt words in blood & soul Is all that we can do* #
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Just editing my next book "Definitely Didactic" and thought I'd share this.    Days Of Distraction: The List What can they be? They seem to go on endlessly. Helping out a friend in need; Finding ways to heed the need(s) Of several needy friends in need. Ignoring things that might be done, Might be some fun And useful monetarily. Ignoring requisites of I, myself and me. Structure: that’s one key. Thinking practically; harmony. Priority to me, myself and I. Life is simple. Roof, warmth, food - Summed up sample of the simple, Which gives ample time To carry out the other, 'Other' meaning tools which further Happiness and satisfaction. Paying bills and buying, Days of duty and temptation; Stress and tension: ‘Stressed out’ grown to idiom. What to do about this ‘dream’, For dream it is. This is a list and not a scheme; Not a plan nor stratagem. Read and think, find out! The answer lies in nought but thee. (That’s you and me). You’ll see                what works.* Days Of Distraction 10.21.2017 Definitely Didactic; I Is Always You Is Me; Arlene Corwin *Chatted with my 'English rose' of a daughter (raised in Oxford, England now residing in Oregon, USA.) who complained of distractions which keep her from other, perhaps more practical or and/or rewarding things.  It inspired these little reflections. It will go into my collections: Definitely Didactic and I Is Always We Is You.  By the way, my 16th book Birth, Death & In Between II went into publication today!
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 6:04 AM UTC
Days Of Distraction: The List
Just editing my next book "Definitely Didactic" and thought I'd share this.    Days Of Distraction: The List What can they be? They seem to go on endlessly. Helping out a friend in need; Finding ways to heed the need(s) Of several needy friends in need. Ignoring things that might be done, Might be some fun And useful monetarily. Ignoring requisites of I, myself and me. Structure: that’s one key. Thinking practically; harmony. Priority to me, myself and I. Life is simple. Roof, warmth, food - Summed up sample of the simple, Which gives ample time To carry out the other, 'Other' meaning tools which further Happiness and satisfaction. Paying bills and buying, Days of duty and temptation; Stress and tension: ‘Stressed out’ grown to idiom. What to do about this ‘dream’, For dream it is. This is a list and not a scheme; Not a plan nor stratagem. Read and think, find out! The answer lies in nought but thee. (That’s you and me). You’ll see                what works.* Days Of Distraction 10.21.2017 Definitely Didactic; I Is Always You Is Me; Arlene Corwin *Chatted with my 'English rose' of a daughter (raised in Oxford, England now residing in Oregon, USA.) who complained of distractions which keep her from other, perhaps more practical or and/or rewarding things.  It inspired these little reflections. It will go into my collections: Definitely Didactic and I Is Always We Is You.  By the way, my 16th book Birth, Death & In Between II went into publication today!
Continue reading...
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