"rudiments" poems
Above the forest of the parakeets,
A parakeet of parakeets prevails,
A pip of life amid a mort of tails.
(The rudiments of tropics are around,
Aloe of ivory, pear of rusty rind.)
His lids are white because his eyes are blind.
He is not paradise of parakeets,
Of his gold ether, golden alguazil,
Except because he broods there and is still.
Panache upon panache, his tails deploy
Upward and outward, in green-vented forms,
His tip a drop of water full of storms.
But though the turbulent tinges undulate
As his pure intellect applies its laws,
He moves not on his coppery, keen claws.
He munches a dry shell while he exerts
His will, yet never ceases, perfect ****
To flare, in the sun-pallor of his rock.
3.1k
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatalogy lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Prerogative presumptive judicature, cantankerous cantilever capacity. Paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts, asymmetrical symmetry. Objectified manifest's dimensional delineation, intrinsic endemic innate opaque opulence. Protractive analyses accidence ambience acoustics. Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant.
Prophylaxis protocol annex annul. Kinesiology kleptomaniac extraversion embezzlement euthanasia extortion, embark embargo extradition. Aura roan's rainbow mare's nimbus nimiety exorcism. Corporeally preternatural's existential exigence exodus. Cerebral cortex's ****** matrix's carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma, apex axis crux, exponentially extemporaneous manumission. Categorical imperative hubris, hectic duty deontological probity.
Astral projection's clairaudience clairvoyance. Tenets and principles, maxims and axioms, and doctrinal mandates. Exserted protuberance's edifice ******** Exotically ****** ethereally sublime xylem Xanadu sails. Erotica erectile errantry.
Fulham nuance ***** Formidable foundry of a foyer fracas. Harpy harsh hast, atrium attrition seditious. Oak tree ****** nails swarthy ******** swath swizzles and unicorn railway sails. Anchor pin tachometer troll wood harlotry's root clod rudiments, lightning bow hat pick. Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist. Transpicuous translucence alluvium aloof impunity.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
To hate or to fear is to be psychologically ill
public office is the last refuge of the incompetent
dreams are rudiments of the great state to come
we dream
what
is
about
to
happen
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
Cooling air, the senses assault
Done is the day, I’ve earned my salt.
Daytime light has turned on me
On moonlit streets such trickery
The pleasant splash, those leaves on foot
Make drunk these nostrils, nectarous soot
Pensive mood floods the mind
And of their beauty I’m truly blind
I do not think of Autumn whole
Only alms within my bowl
As you’ll see I’m leaf inspired
Though their rudiments I have mired
Autumn ring, the chilling tenors
Rejoiced and played in earthly manors
That icy rush makes cold the spirits
Yet conflagrates ye adherents
That festive smell, incense the air!
No motive o’yours ever err
And though the day leaves more hastily
These changing leaves get the best o’me
Transient seconds plump and inspir’d
Of your natural portraits I’ll never tire
The mountainside, my most treasur’d mosaic
Whatever great works, it’s more archaic
Falling to the ground, like listless colorful rain
Whether as the nemophilist, or seated behind a pane
These little souls returning to earth
Fill me with the greatest mirth
Though they exemplify an age ended
Verbiage they have transcended
I’d fill my days with gallery mileage
Gladly glut with their splendid sillage
As they flit, the stuff of dreams
In their midst, pure sophrosyne.
Day or night I’m overcome
Eyes wide open and stricken dumb
Overcome with words and tune
Bursting forth, this ideal plume
And like a flower, complex in bloom
Can’t be captured, hemmed and hewn
Vapor these words, though fall inspire’d
No due medium, pen or lyre
Untouchable this golden essence
Wealth of ideas, gone in seconds
Appropriate, it seems to me
My head, my thoughts a leafy tree
Arrives the autumn, gold and dun
Thousands escape when I reach for one
So I’ll just watch in quiet awe
The beauty whole, no hem nor haw
Not try to make that art my own
Won’t reduce it to rhyme and tone
I’ll simply revel their naïve lull
Ephemeral, yes, but never dull
Shout out happily in leafy halls
Marry to words what return my calls
Leave thou ****** in pulchritude pall
And question not what comes of fall.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
when i cordoned you off
with Gorilla Tape and lilac vine
once i was done attaching encrypted files
of pearls upon that sultry salt of your inner-thighs
once i’d borrowed bonds
off my favorite banker’s portfolio
so i could waste myself in their earned interest
ratios
of blood bourne by centuries of
hapless gathering oppression
so i could use them in mosaics of swollen sand
that i could lay
like sea-glass shards under your
ebbing feet as useless parchments
i swallowed you in all your swollen spasms of fragile oblivion
until that bottom of this tongue lept amidst surfacing juices
obliterating and obligating all that ever decayed amidst obelisks
your whispers
(hatched from your
breathy endorphins)
shook me into
mine own
desperate shudders
astride our gathering humidity
and i gathered in
your needle-nosed
plier
eyes
-rust encrusted grey
incisors-
wrought from melted andirons
mixed with slug
trodden
soils
of hinterlands i was
never
to penetrate
as if i ever slammed
you
with yore spinning flails
into night’s emerging chasm
of charcoal sprinkled
with inner-orange peels
and their attempts toward
all that is illuminating, wistful, brief, and
precious—
i am your son, i am birthed from your sal i vations. i am twisting, still, amidst these rudiments of brine...
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 2:20 AM UTC
*Fractal Fountains Of Her Shattered Grace,
Radiating Sanguine Light Scattered Across Hyperspace,
Cinematic Stories Of Her Synthetic Heart,
A Pianistic Fairy Sonicating Into An Illusionistic Art,
Through Liquefied Eternity & Decoded Divinity,
She Glides With Her Electrified Wings Illuminating Into An Elegy,
Feral Essence & Mellifluous Fluorescence,
Resonating Luminescence Of Her Imperious Quintessence,
Fragile Fragments Of Her Experimental Masquerade,
Sterile Rudiments Isolated Forming Into Crystal Palisades,
Metallic Frequencies & Cherished Reflections,
****** Transiencies Starlit In Her Smooched Seductions,
With A Touch Of Insanity & Afflux Of Ecstasy,
Her Carnal Femininity Bleeds Of Promiscuity,
- 05:09AM*
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
Turn the page,
And let me read something new
For now my innocence is torn
With no one wearing their real faces
Rudiments of utopian vandalism is born,
And I still hope,
That you'll seek me at the end of the night
And I still hope,
That you'll take away my reasons to fight,
Beyond the horizon.
Give me a blade to cut my wings,
Voluntary armament is the road to peace
Stacking up grave upon graves,
My emotions seek,
Trenches as their niche
And I still hope,
That you'll encase your arms around my neck,
When my back is against the wall
And I still know,
That you'll throw me away when the messengers bring, messages of war.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 10:40 AM UTC
The Forceps on the Skull
The Freedom Down my Throat
The Careless Jaunty Attitude
The Dead boy long Gone
No voice, No mouth, No brain
No Opinion, No Choice, No Thought
The child coaxed in rudiments
The warm fuzz ball of puke
The play-doe reindeer bones
The bandaged up wild wet wagon movie
Throaty
Toe drum octagon
Therapy Slowly
Octopus keymaker
Uh, you don't know me
Grow old in set bone brains
Can't hold a lighter to a memory of a conversation flicker
Septum dust headbutts tattoos of a mirror
**** shiver
What's His Name?
What's His Name?
Slidin’ care home cider casket cycles home
Nun **** jar finds a hair in comb
Hold a Jug up to your speakin’ ear and drink
Run circles round the square
Run circles round the square
Why don't you just do it?
Why don't you just?
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
For I would that ye knew what great conflict I have for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh;
2 That their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgement of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ;
3 In whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.
4 And this I say, lest any man should beguile you with enticing words.
5 For though I be absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in the spirit, joying and beholding your order, and the stedfastness of your faith in Christ.
6 As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him:
7 Rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving.
8 Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.
9 For in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead ******
10 And ye are complete in him, which is the head of all principality and power:
11 In whom also ye are circumcised with the circumcision made without hands, in putting off the body of the sins of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ:
12 Buried with him in baptism, wherein also ye are risen with him through the faith of the operation of God, who hath raised him from the dead.
13 And you, being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, hath he quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses;
14 Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross;
15 And having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a shew of them openly, triumphing over them in it.
16 Let no man therefore judge you in meat, or in drink, or in respect of an holyday, or of the new moon, or of the sabbath days:
17 Which are a shadow of things to come; but the body is of Christ.
18 Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels, intruding into those things which he hath not seen, vainly puffed up by his fleshly mind,
19 And not holding the Head, from which all the body by joints and bands having nourishment ministered, and knit together, increaseth with the increase of God.
20 Wherefore if ye be dead with Christ from the rudiments of the world, why, as though living in the world, are ye subject to ordinances,
21 (Touch not; taste not; handle not;
22 Which all are to perish with the using;) after the commandments and doctrines of men?
23 Which things have indeed a shew of wisdom in will worship, and humility, and neglecting of the body: not in any honour to the satisfying of the flesh.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 6:29 AM UTC
I can see your shadow coming closer in the dark
Growing like a tumor while I slowly fall apart
Nothing like a moment to remind you that you're weak
Grazing on the bits of truth you never fought to keep
Yet somewhere underneath the skin of what you have become
There exist the rudiments of silences to drum
But how do you identify a peace you cannot see
And put your trust in every part invisible to me
I am not the one who claimed your body as my own
So I will sit here ripping all the stitches we have sewn
And as the holes expose themselves the light begins to dance
Gradually consuming, letting go of what I can't
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
we can't sing so much, but alive we deaden somber with aplomb.
we are remorse and ripe plums. tap roots fastened to air kisses and laudanum.
we congeal in our own ' thud '. a slow bomb coughing the alphabet's are off -
with our high noon lows; depleted aloft. we are One -
in the chamber of succinct
loss.
we carry on. drudging up the hillocks of our Pandemonious Love.
blurting the wrong devout; conjoined to the rip in our seamless joust
adjusting the rudiments of our lathe of fresh hell; to accommodate the actual constant
of our hateful esteem. the very same accursed of our mutual louse...
doubting the excellent **** of our divine Without.
we covet the reign seeds
of Love's Drought.
and as plausible honey
we comb tangles
into sunrays
out loud.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatology lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 1:05 AM UTC
Across the meadow
Halation stretched
As the sun kissed the bay
The sound of waves
Murmuring in the distance
Where like whispers
Falling on ears eager
For reassurance
Soothing, forgiving
Mending the very fabric of existence
Once shredded
Beyond repair
Mother nature had just
Birthed September
Along with the rudiments
Of designing a new dawn.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Oh Blackened night that over throws
the clutched snare of after math
Drawing into its prism of gory shade
the hidden phantom that lingers deep
I've heard it's wail upon empty nights
when silence holds the silent breath
and here within its structure and rudiments
It calls out your name.
But Christ, there is no running
no light to grasp, no breath to capture
for it seizes upon the whelm and invades
forever holding to its ultimate passion
I have always known it, feared its grasp
ran every avenue I thought it's presence was
Till here in the room ,upon my bed it finds me
Alone, as well we both knew it would be.
I cannot fight, for there is no form
I cant escape it, for its wherever I roam
So now before I cry and instantly acknowledge
The reason and purpose for its visit here.
While you all out there sleep in your peace
while dreams of the morrow, freshens your mind
keep in thought always this consistent fellow
That awaits you too, In your silent hour.
The Ghost of an unforgiving Love.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 1:29 PM UTC
The rudiments of love are vested deep within the soul. Like the bleeding sands of time, our feelings can't control--An aggregation of desire, filled by many things. The light that fuels our fire, embellishes our surroundings.
We shut our eyes but cannot sleep,
we hold our breath,
clinch our teeth.
We tremble at the slightest brush, our hearts awaken from this rush! & just when we expect the flame to yield, it torches the entire battlefield!
This leaves behind a humble scene, of ash, & smoke, & broken dreams... At which point only time can heal, but merely to form another battlefield?
I believe that we were made for more, that pain is something we should endure, that life is more than a half-filled glass, but a powerful teacher of poise & class! & I, for one, will never mistake the advantages of a lost-love fate!
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
When peace and harmony take the stage,
the soul begins to stir.
Placing notes in staggering rudiments,
emotionally revered.
As the receptive audience begins to sway
with the dancing rhythmic sounds,
the connection of oneness
in our blissful beating heart's is bound!
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 9:00 AM UTC
I’ve watched you move dust from the earth
With every speck turned into gold;
I’ve watched you sweep the ashes from the hearth
And thus, grief is laden in the mold.
I’ve seen you maneuver a ship on sail
Like a deity between the land and sea;
I’ve seen you move past through the hail
And the trees swayed with their leaves at plea.
I’ve noticed your stillness through the dark
In which it seemed so delightfully right;
I’ve noticed the bareness you left as a mark
When the ambience had turned sour at night.
I’ve recalled your defiance amid the rudiments
In which I found such beauty in nothingness;
I’ve recalled your anticlinal sentiments
Thus, how could one like the breadth less?
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 1:08 AM UTC
Halation stretched
As the sun melted into bone
The sound of waves
Murmuring in the distance
Where like whispers
Falling on ears eager
For reassurance
Soothing, forgiving
Mending the very fabric of existence
Once shredded
Beyond repair
Mother nature had just
Birthed Spring
Along with the rudiments
Of designing a new
Dawn
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatalogy lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
Don't tell me it's natural
To look at a women inappropriately
To excuse your poor behavior
They're already scared and intimidated by thousands of other men like you
Dehumanizing them in every aspect
It is Man's greatest defect
You should only inspect
Her eyes when you are looking at her
It shouldn't matter if there's a drove of women walking down the street naked
Your eyes are not to wander
Anywhere else
It is the greatest challenge for Man
But you must do all that you can
To be abstinent of flawed desires
She is a human
Not a doll
For you to stare down and wither away one by one
I dream of a day
That a Man can resist every time
That will mean he has won the battle
That Women have been fighting
For what seems like forever
The amount of men teaching their sons
The rudiments of respect
Are far lower
Then it used to be
If I ever have a Son
He will know that he cannot disrespect them as such
Or he'll be ridiculed
In every way
Watch what you say, watch what you do and most importantly
Never make her feel blue
Always make her feel good as new
Regardless if you love her or she's just a friend
Because there are way too many lowlifes that only care about her body and their selfish desires
We need to increase our standards higher
I hope that he will be stating this in flyers
He won't be a liar
Either
When he does wrong
He'll look at her in the eye
And face the assessment he proposed upon himself
Like he should
If he's sincere
She'll love him like no one else ever could
Men are imperfect
So am I
But I challenge myself every day to improvise
On the insights and complaints of women today
And work to help these worries go away
I hope I'm a better man today
Only God knows what I truly deserve
I will preserve
My actions
And hopefully I'll be close to our goal
To be the kind of man I aspire to be.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatology lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 7:16 AM UTC
since she left me
i just feel betrayed by those romantic movies
where there is always a happy ending
regardless on what the circumstances might be
is either the partner cheated ,lied , or their enculturation is acting as an asymptote, those two tend to find happiness at the end
then there is me waiting as a standby
thinking that she might come back to me one day
with a smile to her face , but that isn't a case
cause when ever we bump to each other
my face will be filled with sorrows and pain
but the best part is the love that runs through my veins
which always grows every time i see her face
eight months she has been a part of me
i know it might sound less but memories created
with those are countless
and maybe is the reason is so hard to move on
my friends say i should move on and that the street is waiting for me
moving on might be the right thing to do
but i cant just pretend that i don't want her anymore
cause now my path seems so blur without her by my side
i know that might sound crazy, but that how deep she mean to me
on a screen they tend to come back
maybe is because words and action are those rudiments i lack
or maybe is just that my love was to much for her
or those movies are just a big joke
and they just
trying to display how love should be
Mar 26, 2022
Mar 26, 2022 at 12:29 PM UTC
Look at us,
Thinking we are a sophisticate,
so intricate,
and yet we ***** about what we have not anticipated.
Look at the last person you saw,
picking out their every flaw,
noticing how they are a piece of ****
yet we are not a part of it.
They have lives which differ from ours,
we are the extras in their hours,
they do not care for you,
just as you do not care too.
We eat the same nutrients,
read the same rudiments,
believe we are better,
because of our new sweater.
What we do not see,
is we all have a plea,
we watch the same ****
have times to mourn,
act as judge and jury,
to everyone else's storm.
You are a god,
in your own right,
you deserve to be awed,
because you fight the good fight.
Yet when anything falls,
you look around and blame the walls,
the one's which restrict and keep you from joy,
the one's you constructed,
behind this foolish ploy.
So grow the **** up,
and recognize your faults,
or grow on up,
and dance alone in this waltz.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
rudiments of a former dwelling
silt from the river
to cover fragments and bone
to color the walls of my being
to deduce me to dust
God is dead
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC