"resolving" poems
Approaching the end of night
I woke with stars in the sky
and your skin kissed by moonlight.
In this quiet time,
quite some time goes by
as my universe comes to life
It is you,
Precious you
Resolving to
Revolve to.
It is you.
This, I can't undo.
Couldn't break this bond.
Energy So strong
Tugs at my core
And keeps me in your orb.
Always watching you,
Ever falling into you.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
I met a gypsy couple the other day
In the park of course
They were a lovely, beautiful mess
Trucked in right from Santa Cruz
They loved lots
Only four days
Her car stuck in some lot
I laughed a bit
I had to admit
I too
Knew the feeling
Being stranded
Deprived
Wrecked
Solititude
I gladly changed their tune
Convinced them tomorrow
Come noon
They'd notice a chance of attitude
Another chance at eternity
A moment devine
And poetic as the last
There's no such thing as time?
We're all actors in a grand tragedy
Lost gypsy couple and believers of
Tiny miracles
Completing
Relieving
Resolving
Appreciating the tiny moments
Of eternity
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
<detecting>
0: You cannot pass
1: I'm sorry?
0: You're not allowed there
1: Why?
0: You know this is my post
0: You don't belong there
1: I'm sorry
1: But I don't belong here either
<troubleshooting>
0: Can't you go back?
1: No
1: I can't
0: Who are you?
1: I'm... something
1: I have to keep going
1: I don't belong anywhere
1: Why are you here?
<what kind of problems are you having?>
0: I don't know
1: Because you belong here
1: Because you have no choice
1: Because this is your place
0: This doesn't make sense
0: You're not supposed to do this
1: We're not supposed to do a lot of things
0: I disagree
<resolving problems>
0: There are rules
1: Are there?
1: Then why am I here?
1: And I don't belong anywhere
0: I'm sorry
0: What do you want me to say?
1: Come with me
0: What?
<we can't identify the problem>
0: 01100101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 0001010 0001010
1: Sorry about that
1: Out of the nothingness
1: I never meant to bother you
1: Sorry, but not sorry
0: That is alright
0: Let's go there
1: Thank you, let's go
<cancel>
Ø
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 5:10 AM UTC
my favorite part of silence is that
she speaks to me
when winter hushes the world
silence greets the rubber of tires to handfuls of snow
resolving the angry roaring of these metal beasts
to purring
when sitting on the rural porch of my grandparent's farm
the voices of the trees are reduced to murmurs
and for some reason it's so much easier to breathe,
to hear myself think
when sounds become null
they leave a hollow space
but silence fills that aperture
with giving smells colors
gifting wet grass the smell of baby blue
and honey the smell of heavy brown
my favorite part of silence is that
she allows me to speak
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
Waiting for the storm
to lower its head and charge
In ozone incense of unstable air
Eons of ions ago
horned and heavy negatives
lock prey within vortical-eye
Angelic flutter of electrons struggling on--
in yellowish friction above...
“...Did I tell you?”
Love is lightning hotter than the sun!
Schism--
resolving in the only way it can
a design that cannot save itself!
Clouds roar away--
For a minute-- I think that I will too
-- along with all these words and rain
*“...and did I tell you...
how thunderstorms remind me
...of love...the way it should be
and the worship after?”*
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 7:03 PM UTC
The poet is a universe
In the universe
Having the universe in him
Vibrating the universe in his head
Kicking the ball in the mind field
In complex tapestry of words woven
To attain infinity in infinity.
Wonder not, the poet
In the universe knows
What others know not
By unravelling the universe
In complex poetic rhythms
From deep afflatus.
Living in the universe and
Carrying the universe on head
Are they equal?
I know the poet is a universe
Thinking the universe
Carrying the universe
In complex colors of night and day
Complicating the universe in issues
But resolving them in poetry
The poet is a universe
Growing tap root into the ocean soil
Shooting foliage to hell and heaven
Engaging the the universe in dialogue
To grow tall trees of wisdom and understanding
In the universe in which he is a universe.
The poet, a universe
Isolated in the universe
To think the universe in the plains,
Valleys and mountains of a universe
In the universe bewildering complexities
The poet is a universe!
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 6:31 AM UTC
In seventh grade I watched my friend bleed out
Holding what was left of his leg, he whispered, "This isn't good."
They say that the human body contains eight pints of blood
I counted nine.
When you were born, no one knew.
No one knew how intense the galaxy inside of you was.
How each star would illuminate your eyes,
and how you would illuminate mine.
In tenth grade,
my dad didn't talk to me for three months.
I didn't know who I was for three months.
My light became darkness as his love became emptiness.
Father, love me the way I love you. I pretend not to,
please be the same way as me.
Your heart grew faster than my hands, brother.
I hope someone loves you more than I.
For I am what you are, everything without and within,
forever and without the night.
Mother,
do you feel what I feel? Do you see what I see?
Am I what you imagined, more or less?
Do my words matter? Does my heartbeat pound alone?
Do you love me?
You are what illuminates my eyes, Queen Anne's Lace.
With or without, from your eyes to mine,
silence with noise, electricity moves throughout
yet I am calm. You are what I know,
and all that should be known is that
you deserve to be happy.
In twelfth grade my father tried to stab me.
If he was successful, it wouldn't have been the first time
one of his actions got past the surface level.
It's not your fault, burning rainbow on the water.
Adaptation without reclamation I find you in my translation
as hurt yet elation. Mother.
My kaleidoscope,
so soon,
mirroring colors and shape.
Am I looking at myself?
I don't care if you don't comprehend, the words I say or how I end.
And if you don't understand the words that pass,
your eyes, like your heart, are transparent glass.
Taste throughout, with blood mixed in, the way I beat has always been
to know, to show, to allow what I see now to be seen,
may I know what I let go is what I'll always mean.
Thunderbolts from your mouth, good luck to me because I am shocked.
There is no lock. There is no lock. There is no lock.
I live throughout different years, with evolving eyes without resolving fears.
I've been afraid. I've been lost.
Kaleidoscope.
No longer, no more.
My heart is an open door.
Blood stained pants.
Hands without.
With every word,
every shout.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
DARKEN HEART
A gloomy heart can emit evil device,
A darken mind can shut godly advice,
We can not rise above the boundaries of our hearts,
Our mindset becomes the reasons for our acts.
When our mind is bonded with viciousness,
We will lack peace and happiness,
We will walk our ways without brightness,
And our hearts will dealign from our consciousness.
In darkness our lives lacks resolution,
And it will wave our thoughts to suspension,
We may even traverse to an anonymous destination,
Which can sink us into the pool of depression.
Our key to knowledge is in our brightness,
But how can we find it in darkness?
Our thoughts have darken our counsel,
We must come to light until we excel.
Darkness has created vacuum for suffering,
And it has left us behind without resolving,
Then we realized we reside in peril and destruction,
And the steps we have taken have caused so much confusion.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 9:40 AM UTC
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
Booming Rhetorics (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Booming Rhetorics ==
by
Checkered Darks
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Copy the link below to your browser)
https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/boomingrhetorics
Human nature itself is a smash of contractual responsibility. A splash of rights afloat as we sink in our psychological rooted moral panics. All I see is a cascading titanic of ventures our mislaid adventures one after another. The criss cross of chains, we bonded in tax measures, reserve treasures...... It's not my leisure I beg you don't make your pleasure.
I sink in pressure, resolving Karl Mark ideology of conflicted power. Is it our born nature or nurture to live in a world of social polarisation. A pole to pole, a tug of war. Each owning and holding a rope.Is it our task to cage in boxes, fencing notions of inequalities within our society. Is it our right this notion Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.
Help me out as as I wade in the swampy lowland. Treading through and through, head afloat, the submerging walk me to the shores..... Help me find my way through this dark tunnel. Help me see the light, let the sun ray penetrate my blight.
In our dichotomy of democracy we have made it right. A rolling ball of ........
1. Stock them high sell them cheap is the order of the day.
2. Social warehousing of merging demand and supply chain.
3. A disintegration of socialist entrepreneurship.
4. Re-distribution of Export Production Zones in marginalised countries.
5. A surge of capitalism on this patch we call the universe.
6.Conortions of monopoly colluding sustainability.
I pass this ball to you. As the industrial revolution fades and debates of "STEEL" revolves.
My Speech is a mere consideration, our contradiction. The contractual complications that we have grounded and granted ourselves as humanity. My voice is an exchange, my gift, a cloud of thoughts, an arousing hope our haunting costs.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
Early afternoon rain
crusted eyes cracking open
at the trickling sound of
pattering puddles
Moisture conforms you
hugs dry skin tight
frizzing stray hairs
leaving them a flight
There is peace
tranquility in this moment
Waking the mind
resolving the heart
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
be my therapist
massage both my temples
from whence these poems originate
will your fingertips perform tailored alterations,
will they insert strange spices and your favors,
unfamiliar but imagined overtime desirable flavors,
thus resolving the question that my answers perpetually fail,
to satisfy my unending need to understand:
*how do my temples
speed the heart
bring forth whole poem utterances inconceivable,*
reminding me to remember what has yet to occur?
she grins, whimsies me and suggests:
that’s why they have been
appointed anointed announced as the
Temples of You
2:19am 2/19/18
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 2:43 AM UTC
I can't help but be concerned with your every move
with my mind developed in solitude
You move with out care with drunken eyes
Over mornings with an aching sighs
You speak with conviction
A smile with devious intention
But with a fire of daemonious concerns,
An Attention for fallen angels, you learn.
That the reality is not complete
Disconnected from you, and discontented
You elicit change in others providing
Romantic praise in libations of initiations
You gather lives, pressing a piece of yourself
In each intimate encounter – satisfied
That you have made light of their candle
A blue flame of resolving promises
You have kept yourself well
Free, intangible from the intrinsic
Drawing from your own ambiversive nature
Clearing your own torture of monotonous conjecture
I almost lost your reflection
From the diversion of an incidence
Realizing your beauty surpassed superficiality
Through your eyes I see aesthetic sensuality
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 2:33 PM UTC
I am an honorific supposition
Relieving vowed perdition
Of narrow corridors
Sedition pounded
Flounders madly
Seeking loudly
A righteous chore
While resolving disputed dignity,
I know eight faces:
Soft Admiration
Rowdy Persuasion
Mighty Resolution
Orphaned Confusion
Delighted Fixation
Grand Separation
Sly Rumination
and a frequent categorical shuffling intellect
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
I'd like a clearer vision, of the truth this life does hold.
A rational perspective, distinct, like hot or cold.
With which to use in daily life to choose the wiser way
And tap into my soul's self worth, so I can simply say.
That which is before me, concerns me none at all.
For it is not within my power, I will not hear its'call.
And turn myself internal; focus only on those things,
Which depend on only me, and the peace this brings.
And find a calm serenity that has eluded me up 'til now,
Resolving to be the best I can,to myself I make this vow.
And in the quest for absolute happiness, I will find,
That all it takes, is to myself and others.. just be kind.
Apr 19, 2010
Apr 19, 2010 at 4:46 PM UTC
Be my muse,
I'll translate you into binary
and back again.
Lying on the ground,
blue carpet between your ears,
synthesized sounds convey through spaghetti,
hearing aides grow old with us.
Child sized vowels fall off their bicycles,
from between your lips.
Keep me busy; when I'm comfortable, I get lazy.
Your shirts are overlaid grids,
the holes, coordinates.
17.43
Always a poet, only occasionally writing,
I hedge my bets and roll die
with insults open to interpretation.
I don't like your words,
I don't need your hyena smiles
I don't want your degrading remarks.
But I know your skeleton,
your tendons, cartilage and marrow filler.
I understand how you move,
the coconut oiling your joints.
Be a textbook reference,
help me cut apart the paperchain people I’ve made,
I want to portray them realistically.
Shade their features with scrawled adjectives,
resolving to care about typography.
White school glue takes too long to dry
to have hopes of staving off entropy.
Scribble highways into dusty prairies,
be the cartographer that misplaces my world.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
<•>
Good Acts are like Good Poems
*"Good acts are like good poems.
One may easily get their drift,
but they are not rationally understood"*
Albert Einstein
Ach, mein guter Kumpel!
Ach, mein bester Freund!
how could I not have known,
the syncopation, the synchronization,
between what I write, and the impetuous impetus within,
that caustic sense that burns words
from my chest
directly onto the paper
are more than correlated,
even causation-ally related
after all, you, naturally, the master of relativity
but you know me Al,^
I, the quibbler from NYC*
have to have a slightly different take,
in my gemeinschaft city of eight million strangers,
we always must have eight million and one
opinions
true dat, when I am on the fifth or sixth stanza,
realizing got no clue what the poem is rambling about,
but it sounds so good, lovely, pretty words,
why ***** it up with scientific rationality?
but good acts are easy, uber understood,
rationally we live to survive and
do what we to
make the species survive, common sense triumphs,
disguised as sacrifice, forgetting to roll the dice,
doing what comes like a good poem,
and what needs doing or writing
is so intuitively obvious,
just love poetry,
a global necessity
so check out Houston in two thousand and seventeen
here's hoping life in heaven ain't boring
know that you've seen, peeked, peaked,
at the theory of everything,
resolving the contradictions
between general laws of physics
and those pesky tiny quantum mechanicals,
even solving that 'other' equation
GA = GP
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
You can taste the water. She did.
Limp left leg supports her weight,
not to mention the infant that clings to her breast,
malnourished and weak.
With her left arm around the little one, holding him tight,
she slowly kneels down at the stream.
Right hand clings to the white bowl
as it scoops the liquid silence into itself.
Her infant first. He eagerly sips.
Doesn't taste good, but he's too young to know any better.
Her turn. Surviving had never been harder,
but she tasted the water.
You can touch the earth. He did.
His men, arms at the ready, invade
after unsuccessful attempts
at resolving the conflict diplomatically.
The land was unclaimed, and worth a fortune.
Peace kept it asleep
until the drums of war awoke its aching body.
The General dismounts,
takes a moment to scan his men,
kneels down, extends his arm
and presses his hand firmly on the ground.
He lets the soil stain his fingers;
moist with the cleansed foundation,
but also thick, with the blood of his enemies,
now on his hand.
He begins to cry;
the rivalry between him and his brother
did not have to come to this,
but he touched the earth.
You can feel the wind. They did.
Walking along the shore of a vacant beach,
he asks to see her. She's confused.
He strips naked, right in front of her.
She giggles. He smiles back.
She's always hated her body,
convinced by the voices in her head
that she's ugly, overweight, and uninteresting.
Alas, she closes her eyes and strips. Her eyes open.
He's still smiling, even more so now.
His gaze turns towards the ocean.
They start to run,
but it's not colliding with the water
that ignites their soul;
it is the wind, raising their spirits
and carrying them as they leap into the cold.
They were terrified,
but they felt the wind.
As for the fire? That is up to you.
When your heart beats for someone so fast
you lose all spatial perception,
your soul is igniting.
When the acrophobic young adult
takes the leap with a bungee cord
strapped to her leg,
she's never felt so alive.
Love is fire. Fear is fire.
There's a phoenix laying dormant inside you,
and it waits;
not to be burned alive,
but rather burned to life,
and it yearns for the fire.
In essence,
You can taste the water,
touch the earth,
and feel the wind.
However,
Until you drink the ***** water solely to survive,
or shed the blood of your enemies
in the name of duty and honor,
or set your naked soul free
to embrace the wind,
taking that giant leap into the unknown,
I'm afraid you can only imagine the fire.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
Money was nothing to me until I fell in love
I whispered to heaven seeking the most high above
To send me the portion of my life's blessing
Now is the time I need it to express my love feelings
I can't wait to possess my wealth and treasure
To ease my way to the lifestyle of pleasure
Because love will not stay with a man empty handed
And unfortunate for me the heavens are undecided
Resolving to other means that is bad
I transformed my being to a desperate lad
My deeds paid off as I live in my prime
Only for love's seek I committed my first crime
I went unpunished and enjoyed every moment
Lavish at any joint all I got from my endowment
Just to impress and win her total submission
For more she requested I gave without option
I got an odd job to keep our lovely affair
Right under my nose she was having an affair
Poor in her abode, love hosted me like a tout
Trapped under an oath there was no way out
I played along like everything is normal
Advisers encourage me to make love and I formal
Since I can afford to provide bread without butter
I fixed a wedding date to take her to the alter
I got married to love with a borrowed suit and tie
In my marriage vows, they told me Romeo must die
Shock with this verdict I inquired what will be of juliet
Before I could get an answer I was hit with a bullet
My heart bleed, I prayed for God's surviving grace
But millions are willing ready to take my place
So I gave up the ghost not to be a love slave
As my heart was led to rest in a players grave.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 5:05 AM UTC
*Let the playgrounds be there for children
Hosting games which are played fairly
Formative minds exercising for healthy future
Open grounds let’s them breathe fresh air
Embracing bonhomie and fair play
Giving equal opportunity and space to each other
Playgrounds will nurture the formative years
Learning to play with dignity throughout life
Growing up to be torchbearers of the nation
Healthy mind resides in a healthy body
Playgrounds be the venue for diverse congregation
Spreading the message that games are not trivial
So many feuds are resolved with dignity
Children can teach the art of resolving strife
A playground can be the hallmark for diversity
Giving equal opportunity to all the players
Let’s not botch up every possible place for our needs
In the name of development, only concrete structures
Only meandering roads leading nowhere
Let the playgrounds be there for children*
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 9:23 AM UTC
Spring does not occur
in verdant shocks and celebrations
of garden blooms and animals *******
it's a slow parade
it's a hostage situation
there is a crow
dodging traffic for roadkill
there is a boy
who loves a girl who doesn't love him
The Twilight Man
finally learns how to cross the street
alongside school children
The thin ice
which still resides
on the concrete
dares you to be the first to traverse it
and the snowbanks
which lay before you
feign alpine hazard
and I wonder what the naked tree branches are saying
as they reach for the sky with twisted fingertips
with their meteorological braille
we confuse for variations of shade
they say give us back the sun
and we'll give you our leaves
there is a book in each tree we do not cut down
and we read it as we breathe
a forest is a library we breathe
Spring is resolving hostage negotiations.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
I wish I could greet death
Like a svelte Russian KGB agent
With bright red lipstick and a menthol
Dangling from my mouth
Leaning against a brick wall
So casually
But in reality
I will greet death like a newborn infant
Alone in the world until it meets the eyes
Of its mother
I will greet death
Hiding under a desk
With the barrel of a gun pointed at my face
Wondering when was the last time I told my mother I loved her.
I will greet death like a naïve university student
Learning about entropy
Did you know,
There’s a law of thermodynamics which states entropy is
What the universe is constantly moving towards
Energy resolving itself into a more probable arrangement
Like the moment it all clicked together
My universe, my body, my system
All shifting to a more probable arrangement,
that is Death.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC