"shortcuts" poems
Every atom is lenient towards the human being
streaming up from the deep root they spur
laying down the perfect descending of the stars.
They can take on the stellar in their deep club
that shows up opening the windows up in the sky
and down on to the earth cast their eyes!
The slim fit sharp atom knows all the shortcuts
constantly vibrating not a single star can catch nor will it ever
thin out – it has the extraordinary stroke of luck.
But the eyes are on the humans not over the amber.
Dreaming to be physically absorbed within the human being
to be in the human’s divine proportion ever transcendental
a far cry from the sun and the moon but with it both gel together!
Once they came so close almost touched the dream
they rose to the occasion, squaring the circle,
laser scanning through, as above so below, so humble.
Submitted them without waxing lyrical took the brush off
the colour bowl of the day then blindfolding the moon
in the night reached out to the paragon of the phi mania,
flawlessly made to measure, numerically perfect Fathima!
Presented themselves before her as pure blank
whereon she can jot like her chalkboard
or do as she please like she could show up
taking it as her shadow in silhouette, she exactly did that.
Touched down on the earth, in the veil
and revealed her as above so below.
The ocean moved stirred the water but none saw the sunshine
behind the full moon in bloom that steals the starry night.
Day in day out Fathima did all in a veil she lived and gone.
Keeping the atom on its toe ever honing tracing the footprint
in its own shadow as once a human being without a mark
crept in it lived in pi magic and leaped out!
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
*The Road to redemption
Is a daunting path
It’s an uphill battle
That is slippery and steep
It goes against the current
In the frigid rough rapids
With rays of blistering sun
A jagged wall of obsidian
And a sea of sand
There are no shortcuts
Only cuts, scrapes and bruises
What you did in the past will never be forgotten
But what you are remembered for will have changed.*
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Above the avatar, hovering
The gamer makes his moves,
Searching out cheats & shortcuts,
Leap-frogging levels his skill improves
But the integrity of the game
Says "find your own way through",
Searching each corner, gathering beans,
This is what one ought to do.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
You must never **** the spiders,
While, they are woven their poems into the likeness of thunder?
Kidnapped the poets, instead of the poems
Therefore, I asked of you to stop all useless riots
On poetry, read them, embrace them, and
Learn from them: poetry is disciplined
And disciplined is the most misunderstanding word
In the dictionary: but somehow it is said that
riots is the language of the unheard:
we must never embrace racial riots,
or racial profiling: reach out to racial equity
stop allowing the messages of hate to go viral
plants row of trees, in the name of love,
I recently came across, ants yes, I said ants
When army ants need to cross a large gap, they simply build a bridge - with their own bodies. Linking together, the ants can move their living bridge from its original point, allowing them to cross gaps and create shortcuts across rainforests in Central and South America.
I recently saw human fighting each other, I recently read somewhere
Where children were locked away in cages
,
McALLEN, Texas (AP) — inside an old warehouse in South Texas, hundreds of immigrant children wait in a series of cages created by metal fencing. One cage had 20 children inside. Scattered about are bottles of water, bags of chips and large foil sheets intended to serve as blankets.
We must never **** the spiders,
While, there are woven their poems into the likeness of thunder..
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
I have seen your arrogance,
dictate and control the legion,
driven by fear,
you tend to lie just to save face.
Create shortcuts,
play fancy with your people
Controlled by public opinions
one makes no room for humility
the master of the blaming game,
does not build the team,
your arrogance ruins people's mind,
their past, up to their midnight dreams
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC
Shoes crunch onto the trail
Between the fences
Shortcuts, one of the wonders of life
Like discovering
the taste of a marshmallow
School is ahead
People, large hulking guys
Sweet smelling women
Teachers, mostly nice
Children mainly rousing
Stir fears, challenges
Sensations like one gets
When discovering a compelling
Book at the city library
Hand-in-hand
Meeting the day
Sibling love
Even better than marshmallows
Sep 6, 2022
Sep 6, 2022 at 8:37 AM UTC
More than just mounds of muscle galore
A curiosity where one must experience in explore
A body composition from before to present
The use of weights in repetitions
These are the forces in bodybuilding’s condition
Bodybuilding is about construct
It is all about proportion if one decides to compete
You must be committed and not take shortcuts known as cheat
Yet one’s physique must be complete from the shoulders to the feet
Lifting heavy weights is like Hercules in a feat
Intensity will play being the determination all the way
However, one must understand how much intensity their body can take
Yet you must have good health conditions in exercise before attempting any heavy training you decide to make
Bodybuilding means having a goal and what you want to achieve
Never listen to anyone about enhancing drugs, as it is a deception for you to be deceived
Bodybuilding is about bringing and contouring all the muscles together
Being a true destined Bodybuilder like no other
The mystique will be one’s desired physique
I have met Bodybuilding champs in their day such as Arnold Schwarzenegger, Serge Nubret, Harold Poole, Leon Brown, Flex Wheeler, Kevin Levrone, Mike Ashley and many others
They had assurance and confidential in being determined to win
Mr. Schwarzenegger became the top ranking Mr. Olympia
Mr. Olympia being the highest honor throughout Bodybuilding
Those Bodybuilding champions mentioned had their plan from their beginning from when
The new breed of Bodybuilders are following in their footsteps and making their mark
Bodybuilders in general are thinking from their own fitness from then
They put determination in making it a can
Bodybuilding is truly about how your body can respond to certain exercises and how it can be shaped
The training principles come together in how they are relate
So you now know how Bodybuilding functions
A masterpiece constructed from sculptor with a posing stand
The array of applause under the spotlight
A determination in the Bodybuilder become the step out pose
The thinking of revelation I suppose
But Bodybuilding is about the flex and not become perplexed.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
Cant seem to get through,
These walls that are put up,
The whole world against us,
No body can see it,
No one will believe it,
They don't understand,
We take life by the hand,
Come to my side,
See life through my eyes,
Tear down the wall,
Lets watch it fall,
Crumble to pieces,
Turn into gold,
We will keep on living,
Even when the hearts go cold,
Take away the pain,
Let go of the shame,
Find all the reasons,
Why we keep believing,
Someday we will find out,
What we really are about,
Why we take things for granted,
I will never really understand it,
Don't lose the light that you have,
Don't fade out the colors of the world,
These things we will never see again,
Soon everything will be pitch black,
Search out the things that make you strong,
Because soon those will be long gone,
Let life take your hand,
Let it guide you across this small amount of land,
Be sure to thank it,
For every second it gives to you,
Do it now while you still can,
Someday it will be too late,
You will regret it if you don't,
Don't die regretting fate,
Take the risks,
See where it gets you,
Don't look for shortcuts,
You will find them where you don't want them,
Someday you will look back,
Asking if you could go to the good old days,
Life is short,
Eternity is forever,
No one lives an eternity,
So live like you are living life,
Wasting time is just taking time,
From someone else who wanted it,
To say goodbye to the ones they love,
To look at the trees and skies above,
Time keeps going by,
We know nothing about it,
No true measurement,
What is time?
We do not know those answers,
All we know is we don't have much of it,
To find out what it actually is,
No body can see it,
No one will believe it,
We can't get through the walls that surround us,
If only we will see it clearly,
The life we live is here and now,
So live it until the time runs out.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Quest along the beaten path -
Rite of Passage;
Cheerfully pay toll -
Your Fair Share of sacrifice.
In return,
Earn
Falsehoods, hollow&unholy;
Silhouettes of acceptance
Virtual applause
Manufactured smiles,
Which guide like tracks,
Revealing shortcuts to sunlight
Passing predators' dens
...
Lustful leeches
Latch on with thirst,
Flesh swells
Veins burst-
A familiar love
...
Still travelling
In figure 8s -
Hypnotic lemniscates,
An infinite conflict-
Self-reliant cannibal
Indulges in
Structured insanity.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
How do I prevail through these unexpected circumstances
Looking for shortcuts through drugs and quick romances
But I can't deal that way
Nobody can heal that way
So why does it seem so right when I feel that way
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
The boulevard knows I don’t care
My hair’s messed up sometimes
These cobble stones remind me
That roughness has its charm
I turn a corner, find myself
In a whole new street of dreams
The fountain whispers to the wind
That nothing stays the same
As I wander unknown alleys
Each junction poses questions
Every showcase I walk by
Displays what life could be
Each passerby’s a promise
A sample story to be lived
The hilltop view reveals all
Of the possible paths to take
Strolling squares and avenues
I am searching to get lost
To find what I could never find
Where shortcuts are the norm
The cathedral proves to be the x
On my worn-out treasure map
The stained glass lays a mosaic
Of nuances on my heart
The arches paint perspective
Into my constricted reference
Their majesty lifts up my head
Compels an upward glance
The wideness resonates a truth
That shakes me to my core
The carillon sings an anthem
That accompanies new strides
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
I'm trying to find a path.
The one that leads to sleep and straight into my dreams.
I'm thinking that if find it, quantify it, and twist it enough, they might become reality.
I might be able to run past the nightmares and the conflicts and the insanity.
My path is indestructible and it attracts my feet.
I don't have to think
It's like the ground is moving beneath me,
like a black strip of ground is moving beneath me on repeat.
Everyone is suddenly walking on a path
Everyone is on different pieces of ground,
on their own black path
moving beneath them
so they don't have to think.
If these paths don't touch, they don't make eye contact.
They are all together physically,
but they're in their own worlds...
...Who am I kidding, we're all in our own worlds!
And here I am trying to decide which way to go when
I realize it's already been decided.
I'm moving forward on this stupid black path that never changes.
I find myself looking around at the blank walls, the blank faces,
the plugged in faces! The darting eyes avoiding contact.
There's something wrong here.
It hits me every time, full blown.
There's a reason why I avoid the gym.
I'd rather run outside and let the world
take me in.
I'd rather be able to jump if I wanna, or sing,
or say something to the people around me.
Or escape the people around me!
Find a place where I can truly be.
On my own.
So many people are afraid of being alone.
I want this generation to see, to explore, to fall
and get up
and all the things like making forts and traps and seeing
off the top of a mountain -
from outside your car ...
Guys, there are stars in some places.
I'm telling you, there are things worth seeing out there.
I'm telling you what needs to happen.
You need to get up off your seat, unplug your eyes from the screen,
and go discover for yourself where you end up one day.
**** this path of perfection, **** all the shortcuts
and technology and craziness,
this culture of disconnection is
literally
driving
people
insane!
Start asking yourself questions and you'll realize Wikipedia can't tell you everything.
Peel away from your text and you might notice a blossoming tree.
The world changes.
Daily.
It will change, daily, for the rest of your life.
And I don't know about you, but I'd rather not let it pass me by.
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 11:21 PM UTC
ADORN LIFE WITH TWO PRECIOUS JEWELS , READ AND TRAVEL !
FOR READING GIVES WISDOM TO THINK
WISDOM TEACHES ONE TO TRAVEL,
DEEP WITHIN .
SOLACING IN THE BEAUTY OF SELF-GROWTH , THROUGH A ROAD OF SELF REALISATION .
NO SHORTCUTS , NO PREPERATION .
TRAVELING FROM THE UNREAL TO REAL , STRIVING THROUGH THE UNPREDICTABLE !
READING BETWEEN LIFE'S CHAPTERS AND LEARNING LESSONS FROM THE TRAVELS ,
TRAVELING THROUGH THE RIGHT PATH EACH LEADING THROUGH THE HEART .
TURNING THE JOURNEY OF LIFE INTO A BEAUTIFUL CHART .
A WANDERLUST TRAVEL FOR THE ULTIMATE GOAL ,
TRANSFORMING THE SELF INTO A ENLIGHTENED SOUL !
©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
You knew all the shortcuts
I know all the routes too
It wasn’t a careless mistake
Played dumb
Missed every turn
Took the long way back
Only to spend more time with you
-JCM-
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
Every body playing me so close.
Use to cheer, now they kicking out the chair.
Guess they just showing me the ropes.
So, I do things my way,
and only keep a small circle.
So when things come around,
its all relative.
Cause backstabbers,
use relations; for shortcuts;
like it's relative.
What hurts most;
them using,
slow pokes and
different strokes.
The whole time,
they cloaked like we folks.
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
You stay where I live—
no I live where I stay, as livelihood is doing in my head.
Girls with pictures—pictures with girls, so few
left in my phone. These are just running thoughts,
as I’m chasing dreams; as a working mind in them.
Skeleton hours; dead in the night, as it’s just another shift.
But it slips in these grinding gears, like winter rains slipping on
the road.
Under the cold whispering of previous night’s wind,
reminded of a cold world out there.
Be it truth to live by—amongst liars to speak such is dare,
and quite frankly rare. But I’m none impressed by trends,
tread your grounds carefully of where you walk.
Don’t slip up on your feet, bruising your knees on the
winter rains slipping on the road.
A side note of my love to rhyme...
by second nature to plan the ending word to second line.
Bringing it back this time to the starting rhyme,
and referring to the second rhyme by the fourth line.
Words slip easily off the tongue, dented like
winter rains slipping on the road.
This poem inspired was inspired by my walk
through shortcuts to work. Black wet tarmac,
holes in every direction. Back and forth, cars roam and go.
My breath visible in this morning cold. A sight in dilated
eyes; towards the sight of the winter rains slipping on the
road.
_This winter is cold._
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 2:34 AM UTC
Allow me to inform you of a road less traveled
The road our minds ignore in fear of being rattled
Simple, yet this road we won't walk out
Too afraid to confront and rarely talked about.
The TRUTH is it's title and it's not sought out
Lies become shortcuts and more common routes
Why does the TRUTH have so many confused?
The TRUTH hurts, so the lies become abused
"Honesty is the Policy," that statement only exists in Utopia
Our would consists of people suffering from a TRUTH phobia
We tell ourselves the wrong things that seem better
We wake up and our moods are decided by the weather
This makes it hard for us to acknowledge the TRUTH
Some will travel, work, or go to college for the TRUTH
To discover it and uncover it
Seeing what it's encumbered with
A gilded body, because the lies numbers win
I'm a weary soldier walking fatigued and intrigued
down the road where the TRUTH was conceived
In the midst of discovery I'm confronted with a lie
Unsure and uncomfortable I ask the TRUTH "Why?"
I find out the existence of the lie I cannot deny
So I face the lie looking it in it's eyes
I state, "Before I believe you I'd rather die"
Holding my head high, I walk into battle
A protector of TRUTH on a road less traveled
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 3:45 PM UTC
You mixed two packets of melancholia
into your coffee today,
and I had to bite my tongue to resist
to say, "I thought you liked it black."
I watched as you daintily taste-tested
it from your spoon and was delighted
upon seeing your grimace of
disapproval (you're adorable when mad).
I took note of how
your veins pulsed underneath
your deeply tanned skin
and I longed to be the blood that
traveled through your delicate body.
If only I could map out your cardiovascular
system and find all the detours and
shortcuts to your fragile heart,
memorize the freeway that
encircled your figure and learn
when to avoid rush hour or when
to take the fast lane.
I found myself fantasizing about
the day you were conceived and
how you beat out all the other
potential embryos - that maybe,
you were chosen out of the thousands
for the sole purpose of being with me.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
Here is the simple
Awful
Truth.
I hate you for wanting to die.
I hate you for all those times you used to call me
Saying you were going to do it.
All those times I cried
And called your mother.
I hate you for using how much you hate yourself
To make me
And everyone else
Worry
So that you can see that we care
When you never needed to be dying to see it.
I hate you for knowing you need help
And never going after it.
I hate you for knowing exactly where you're heading
And acting too weak to do anything else.
I hate that I can't separate a psychosis from a melodrama
In your deceitful eyes.
I hate that I have to treat every lie like it's a truth
Because this might be the time it is.
I hate that every lie IS a truth,
Just a truth you've used to drain me of my time and energy.
I hate this. I hate you.
I've hated you for a long time.
I hate you for being weaker than me.
Where I fight for my life,
You throw yours away,
Claiming you can't do anything else because
"It's hard."
Yeah,
It's ******* hard.
It's worth it.
I don't want to be better than you
Stronger than you
Wiser than you.
I want you to try like I do
Because the only difference between us
Is the trying.
I hate you for taking the shortcuts
The outs
And going down like I know you will
Every single ******* time.
I hate you for finding every form of self abuse
And romanticizing it like it's a good thing.
I hate you for being weak, I really do.
For giving up all the time
For never trying hard enough to earn the words
"I've failed."
I hate you for making me feel so worthless when we were young
Just because YOU felt worthless
And wanted to be better than someone
And I was willing.
I hate how you changed toward me
The moment I became more comfortable than you
The moment I became myself.
I hate that only then did I deserve your love and respect
Because you can lose someone who thinks they're worth something.
I hate that I've rarely seen you do anything
That wasn't in service of destroying your own happiness and health.
I hate that you don't know when to stop
Because every time life has tried to teach you
You've only used the lesson to loathe yourself
And not to change yourself.
I hate that you probably won't ever change
And that I'll be your emotional paradigm,
The one you're jealous and in awe of,
The one you chase and can't have,
The one you come to and dump all your problems on
So you won't have to face them.
You can be strong,
I've seen it in your eyes.
You're smart,
You've proven that many times.
But oh,
It's too hard,
It hurts.
Yeah.
It ******* hurts when for 18 years
You abuse yourself
And then you have to answer to that.
But if you don't now
18 will be 20
20, 40.
40, 80.
And suddenly, you truly will be too weak,
Too worn out,
And your life will be wasted in self hatred,
And you will never
Ever
Get it back.
It's hard.
It's worth it.
Someday I will tell you how much
I absolutely
Hate you
For not thinking so.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 5:02 PM UTC
If there were
shortcuts, I’d
take them
I’d put them all
in my pockets
and always carry
a spare
in my bag
(and one in
the glove box, just
to be safe)
I might even
hand them out to
strangers who look
like they
might need one
or give them to
friends
I’d hide them so
people could find them
and rejoice
but there are no
shortcuts, and
my pockets are
always empty
just like the
road ahead
and that’s really
too bad
because
my pockets
are quite big
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
Black/White
Life isn’t just…
Black or White, Up or down, Wrong or Right
But shades of gray, on a rainy day
When a family cries, *** another member died
While religion lies, and the churches are fake
And you’ll find better salvation by getting baked
All this aggression bursting at my seams
All from figuring out what it finally means
I look into a mirror and it makes me want to scream
But insides my head plays a silver screen
Life isn’t just black or white, but shades of gray
Just like a cloudy sky, on a rainy day
Fight or Flight, War or Peace, Life or Death
But shades of gray brought on by decay
Of bodies littering streets to close to home
Blood and guts and exposed bone
Ash soot and cinders on houses stone
Cities growing corrupt, bankrupt, ingrown
But these great graveyards still hold hope
People live, fighting through all the smoke
Hope for future still unknown evoked
Do or Die, Love or Hate, Day or night
But shades gray found only at twilight
That binds the two, combines the two
Just like commonalties that ties us to
Everyone on earth, both old and new
Does matter what race, creed, or view
We’re all stuck together in the same boat
So don’t try to sink it, make it float
All while singing out this very note
Life isn’t just black or white, but shades of gray
Just like a cloudy sky, on a rainy day
Left or Right, Better or Worse, boy or girl
Doesn’t matter how you came to this world
What matters isn’t what you take from it
But what you make of it, Create from it
What you awake in it, and remake in it
There are no shortcuts you can take in this
And resist the temptation to not coexist
Try to remember my rhyme deep in your mind
And remember the lines are never defined
Life isn’t just black or white, but shades of gray
Just like a cloudy sky, on a rainy day
Life isn’t just black or white…
Life isn’t just black or white…
Life isn’t just black or white…
Jun 3, 2011
Jun 3, 2011 at 10:54 PM UTC
Footsteps chasing after overly-small ones.
Little gaps of space between their lips & hearts;
flitting in between are voices like little notations on crumpled maps.
Carelessly inked shortcuts to a
dainty dabble of
yellow on
ones soul.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
Success is sweet to taste, however consistent efforts need to be made
Efforts need to be made to make sure the sweetness of success remains in mind for over a long period of time, later on becoming part of the memory.
When efforts are made doubts are raised, since each and everyone has his own way of getting things done
Doubts result in question in order to find a better way with regards to what is going on in the mind at the present moment in time.
Definitely at one point in time it seemed that all efforts were made to gain success, but later on with time intentions change for the sake of short term gain.
Questions are asked in one or many different ways so as to clear the doubts that are raised
Questions need to be answered, since doubts need to be resolved.
In one way or other, it’s always better to walk in a straight line without depending on shortcut,
since when shortcuts are taken it might lead to a failure,
if not a complete diaster,
later on resulting into a blame game.
Definitely there is no shortcut to success.
Questions are asked when there is a doubt in the mind
Remarks are made when questions are not answered, the way in which they should have been answered in the first place.
Later on things change
As of now in the present,
arguments and counterarguments is part of the game
Conflicts and contradictions is also part of the game,
if not tradition with regards to the doubt that is raised and also with regards to the question that needs to be answered.
Business runs as usual,
since now it’s time to make a gain from the controversy that’s been made,
if not created,
which somewhere down the line was related to the question that was initially raised.
Now time will take it’s own course before everything finds it’s original place
However till then game of what if and what if not will gain a firm ground
It will be continued to be played between different groups having different players playing in their own way and for their ownsake.
The game continues.
Most of the the time when a controversy is created, efforts are always made to make sure nothing remains hidden,
however,
finally it’s truth that will bring an end to everything going on with regards to the doubt that was raised
Truth will reveal all the right and wrong with regards to everything that is going on in the mind and in this process it will settle down everything,
not only the controversy that was created,
but also the doubt that was raised.
Definitely truth is stranger than fiction, but also need of the hour since it will provide the answer to the question was raised with regards to the doubt going on in the mind.
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 6:49 AM UTC
All those eyes
Slowly shedding their skin
Making small circles around each other’s
Substance
The look it seemingly undresses the nights
Ghosts
A blood fest of fists surrounds your head
The aroma of darkness covering my placenta dreams
An empty gun
Lays adjacent to the rooms open view
While in distracted light there appears my punch-drunk sanity
As it devours (all) the shadows
An uneven floor that injects my blood stream with dust and hollow words
Stumbling over you was the answer to my loss of hope
Like running thru graveyards and speaking in silence through tiny pinhole
Mouths and forever living and not finding what may be in stored
The afterglow of solitude
The disjointed smiles that grasps for air
Under your enormous wings of blame
My tonic suggestion to incubate my after birth words
A stillness of heart that shackles
A memory and mortar apprehension I have not escaped
In the long hallways of your past
My own blank stare dissolves in the sunlight
Then it was you
Inhabiting the smaller cracks of my skin
Taking my hurt and
Willingly
Being beautiful in the madness of blind faith
A sordid ball of ugly lights which glisten
And down the path where it leads
To me
You can place your gift to the dead crowd like
Unraveled wire touching your lips
A severed look of ignorance
Beings of soft shells
And broken by spinal cord modifications
The lustful grasp shrouding your heart
Makes its way taking shortcuts through graveyards
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 8:41 AM UTC
Revise the shortcuts to closer ends
Grains of wood brushed upon earth.
Sponges **** away H20 to a bitter explosion.
The remarks are unbearable as if I did the erosion.
Coils twirl away after being delivered.
The Sunset would never downfall appointing us glitter.
The wonders of “it” erased invisible
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 7:45 AM UTC