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Mateuš Conrad Mar 2021
beginning with a title... the transcendent bicycle...
because it really is just that...
if you have walked as much as i have:
a marathon from Romford
to St. Paul's and back...
a marathon from Romford to Epping
and back...
       i don't know but i do know that
i might have been aiming for: flesh of my flesh...
aged 34... but i'm still "trapped" inside
the dimension of the bicycle like
i'm ******* quicksilver / the flash...
i haven't ridden a bicycle in well over a decade...
today i found out i have ghost muscles...
the bicycle became the antithesis of
prosthetic limbs...
   it's hardly a Descartes contemplating
a desk and / or van Gogh's chair...
beauty in pickling... depths of thought in:
picking, juices...
how a second birth happens with
the advent of thought...
when... penetrating inanimate things...
to think about objects is to...
become more objective?
         it's not like i'll summon...
a Freudian complex...
using a bicycle... as a Deleuze
did when ushering in the bicycle from
a Beckett's perspective...
  beside the "village bicycle" i hardly
want to give sway to some ******* metaphor...

the bicycle is more than a chair
a chair is such a fermentation process
since you can sit on it...
but can hardly concern yourself
with making a ******* gallop on it...
but a bicycle is not a horse...
but a bicycle is not a horse...
writes the man that...
yes... i have ridden horses...
all the equestrian clubs in Essex can shy away
from the detail of...
i have allowed myself to ride a horse
to a gallop... neck, sore... entangled in:
want of massage... yes...
but a bicycle is not a horse!
it's a dog... at best... it goes where you want
it to go...
the leash of gears the muzzle of the breaks...

the **** i need a car for?
in London... even if it's outskirts /
kilt Loon'don?
     ha ha FARKER TARTAN WILLIAMSSON...
blah!
enriched with hidden energies of
newly discovered... otherwise plainly
shelved sensations of motion...
there's nothing new about a bicycle...
said the man who withheld a smirk
when attesting...
a gap... the same centre of gravity... though...
almost like the buoyancy arrived at
when swimming...

oh how my father tried to teach me...
how peer pressure taught me instead...
it's this exasperating O oh and ah...
that's not really becoming of adding any more
detail to a rekindled love for life...

notably concerning England...
and outer-suburbia...
- when you have been walking these
labyrinth streets for months...
to be suddenly injected with
a very new, but at the same time:
a very old concept... dimension: which sharpens
the genesis of thinking about the sentence...
a new dimension of... speed...
time, space are their own affairs...
invoked for a day by a day...
walking is merely movement...
cycling? that's not merely movement...
that's...             speed...
because... there's a whole chi focus
of X yes precisely X...
        only half an hour's worth of cycling
and i covered the whole peninsula of the area...
unbelievable the detail of acquiring
traffic coordination...
a shared responsibility that a mere
pedestrian might take for granted...
      
tomorrow's a Sunday and i'm supposing
come circa 7am the
traffic should be "slim"...
having tested the breaks and the gears
somewhat proper...

bicycle bicycle... where have you been
all my past decade...
bicycle: grandfather Joseph...
death toll murk... fill the bells!
let them not resound in the night
while i reclaim the wind for my own...

- that i sometimes drift in and out
of solipsism...
yes... that solipsism is
laboratory minded experimentation
with states of autism...
but you're given the excuse
of riding a bicycle...

i wonder what wings might feel like....
a bicycle is not a horse...
a bicycle is more or less a dog...
it's certainly not a cat... meow...
if there was an advent of wind to harness...
but there's me... merely pulverising forward...
the leash the muzzle
all that's frame and the breaks:
downhill...

the lullaby of emotions intrinsic in:
blocking all rancid thinking... all thinking
like so...
Zen by ***... it's not that i know more...
i know... different... but first you have to walk
said distances... before loopholes...
wormholes appear gesticulating the mind
with a provided for, otherwise...

i'm 34 and i feel like i've just...
accomplished more than
having shed feather of my virginity...
never make me feel so entrusting...
never make me feel so demanding "x"...
peddle ******* peddle...
tread-water.... in your pyjamas...
i do remember, like an elephant's cranium
might... details of a historical tattoo...

philosophy books are...
paupers of metaphor...
language is ever hardly elevated into
a bouquet...
i don't want to be in love again...
i don't want to be such an...
undemanding... lack of ambition...
lack of sacrifice...

take me into the woods
and shoot me in the back of the head...
but before you do...
i'll merely ask...
take me into the sort of woods
where the deed be done...
but appreciate walking me so far
off the well trodden path
that you might not remember
how to retrieve a safe-footing back...
take me into the woods of no known
horizon...

guarded by a strict wall of a mile of trees
that block out the otherwise pleasant
azure of the sky come hiding the sun
at sunset... or sunrise...
in that zenith of immobile grey
between the hours of commotion
when nothing is to be salvaged as one's
own... but... abhorred as it too must be...
somehow... shared...

some privy in on England... a land
of fertile imaginings...
when Descartes had his table, and chair...
to fist & fester on...
i'll lay clamour to the debris of alt...

yes: an overbearing load of sensation:
delusional.. let's put him in his "right"
place... let him believe the sole provided
the psychiatric source of angst
no purpose = no posit of transcendence...
no bicycle...
   custard... pie-load...
angst...
               jerking off from "excess" libido...
well... exercise the "excesses" of libido elsewhere...
exert well squid parallels
and more: firm grasp... "tentacles"...
see the same within the confines
of an "elsewhere"...

how ***** i became being so...
muscular abiding... simultaneously... docile... too...
it's not a Lamborghini it's not
a British T... triumph motorcycle...
it's a peddling ingenuity of
somewhat self-origin...

i could have eaten up a Solomon's share
of ****** and *******
that same of wisdom...
should i, could i, would i have
demanded less than was already left available
from the Tetragrammaton...

how did "we" ever learn to laugh...
how was HA... the hebrew definite article spawned
those biggest,
no... those grieving questions...
how a monotheistic deity might be all
good... yet somehow not all powerful...
yet all powerful but not all good...
bling alley... cul-de-sac view:

the algebra not solved: attempted by
numbers...
letters later sieved...
and more letters sieved...
played the party pooper with membrane knowledge
of katakana and Hangul...
because... Latin script does slip...

chi-focus?
the multiplication ascend of:
what was walked prior...
can now be cycled... shortened because no
"lost" time was ever to be grieved...
although... the front suspension is...
an unwelcome addition...
ha ha... privy me on details
like... excesses that are there...
21 gears and when there was a rigid frame
throughout and rising up from
a sitting position is not necessary...

no... i'm not gearing up for motorcycles...
i like the idea...
but also... subsequently... the experience...
of a double-decker... bus...
of a bus of being the transit mahjong skeleton...
pieces... mein alles!

mein alles!             gott, mit... uns!

yes... unbelievable... the demands for yachts...
for ******... diminished into a fizzle....
when a Beijing demand for bicycles
skyrocketed... and all that was left to salvage
was... promises of a Sunday,
circa 7am...

hidden gems of plied-play-dough-esque:
sort of truths...
sort of beefing up... doubting pork...
within the confines of chops...
between me and a prisoner...
between me an a prisoner...
it's hardly the yacht...
the hardly any nuance of bother...
believe the existence of hierarchy...
because the Bolsheviks didn't
come about the first time around...
second try...
escape the English cwown they said...
escape the litany of squares
they-void-thought... "said"...
herr omar bin sa-id...
conquest of the Hey-Brews... "said"...

don't undermine the intricate
tribal workings of...
half-possessed...
half truant... thereby almost totally... true...
associates of Casimir the Great...
there be a god of wisdom
and there be a god of fire...
there be a god of letters...
if so...

the same god will be inclined
to mind...
an apostrophe as much as a surd (letter)
in Ęgli-sh...
when not minding... "it"..
lay an Ę to the side to wreck havoc with...
ha ha!    Щ...

  Ę / Щ... the **** are you looking
at me... like i were the one
who killed your mother with a *******
harmonica / what have these galoshes to do with
"these" galoshes...
what has this pumpernickel to do with
this windmill... "this" is an obstruction...
the proverb states...
what has a pumpernickel to do with
a windmill?

exactly... ****-all!

two-riddle *******' worth... worth of...
newly ******* jargon... and crust of...
for the load that might be minded
invigorating life... as life in prospect...
re-orientating man toward the clamour
of detailing sky...
not on foot...
not on horse...
not via car... will you...
to hell with running down...
a stampede of perspective...

planet... luancy? is that where we are all,
from?
i am born of madness...
i am this salty precursor of i think...
clearly i first arrived...
later... i somehow managed to "think"...
i didn't think first
but i certainly didn't either:
i think therefore i am therefore i think...

i was more on the lines of...
from the lineage of:
trouble...
i am therefore i think therefore i am...
i am not a spider i'm not all emptying and detailing
the filling of gob-***** with
i am hungry i am vector...
i am therefore i think therefore i am...
but this... ****** of french...
premature *******....
of i think therefore i am... therefore i think:

honestly? thinking is sometimes not...
necessary...
sometimes water needs no... glue, metaphor...

Amsterdam's open mouth darkseid
apocalypse abode...
le trio joubran - masar.... a finite quest...
primo.... detailing conquest...
handling crux....

            the cat's in the riddle...
the yard is in a mile...
scrutiny of the Levant...
           leverage of hark... -ing
denote: closure... of "ambition":
this lesser "king"...
brow of the most dignified...

                   keeping with allowance
(an)
  justly, met...
  
give me wind:
   give me... air...
not... hair... i laugh... i laugh too little...
i chisel my teeth...
i scream: nothing primo!
my life but q.
there are more lived importances
that matter, thus...
cradle... diamonds...

"the end".
The new Genre Tourist Punk
is sailing the nation.
Hawaiian shirts and white keds are lining up all around Orlando to see
up and thrifting bands like
Lobster trap,
Lighthouse tour and
Dogs welcome.

Founded in a Starbucks
by Toni and Dash,
two MECA grads one student loan away from selling out and getting involved in
the lighthouse painting business,
The Band: Lobster Trap
gave birth to a whole new genre.
TOURIST PUNK
Toni and Dash decided they needed to provide music that was expensive. niche.
Something unspeakably mundane.

With smash hits like
"This traffic is *******"
And "My name still isn't Joe".
Lobster Trap is flying
up the American top 40
faster than you can say socks and sandals

Sales of "I HEART LOCATION" merch has skyrocketed with every launched tour.
Crowds of L.L. bean boots and visors are Moshing, breaking poloroid cameras over each others heads in a salmon rage.

old school punk fanatics were skeptical at middle aged middle class suits getting into their scene.
until it hit them that they could now throw punches
at every pedestrian who ever cut them off.

"Hi thirsty, I'm Dad." By Land of the Polite
Has been played more times in the last year then any taylor swift song.

Money once invested in college-bound middle class vacationlander spawn is being wisely spend on bands like "discount Polo",
and "Local Diner"

So listeners.
if you spend an obscene amount of money on travel fair, and over priced, cheaply made souvenirs;
Or Work in customer service thriving to see those leaf peepers choked out by their own ***** packs.
Do yourself a favor.
road trip into your local bullmoose
sporting your states name on your chest.
And Treat yourself to an exclusive new album
of TOURIST PUNK.
Tawanda Mulalu Sep 2014
Thesis:


There's an easy way to disprove
that ignorance equals bliss:

                              Your eyes

were puzzles of space-time,
studied through conversations
fervent in their background noise-
where I looked for one single oddity
in what might have been the ordinary,

except it wasn't. Space-time
distorts around things of great

                                        gravity

and your light-consuming pupils
pulled me towards you. Complexity,
hidden in some unsuspecting darkness
that I was dragged into...
things I didn't understand
until I reach our event horizon

      and you and I are one.


(As for my thesis: what great Nothing would we have been
if I skyrocketed away
for fear of the unknown?)
I've been reading a lot about Physics recently. Einstein and his contemporaries seem like really froody people.
Mio Seanachaidh Feb 2017
She was known as Eartha Mae born in the small town of North in the The Palmetto State

Her childhood was even a mystery that she wished to forget from suffering abuse and neglect all because of her skin color - a light pale complexion - commonly referred as "yella"

She was of fair complexion due to the racial mix of African-American, European, and Cherokee Native American descent

Eartha was poorly treated and abandoned by others till she was saved by a Good Samaritan and taken to New York

Nurtured and raised into the Big Apple flair, she flourished and sprouted like flowers from the Earth

Charismatic and mysterious, she was like her name - spiritual and intuitive, she had a deep connection to the Great Mother (Earth)

The elements on Earth resided within her

Earth is the body, Water set in blood, Air is in the breath, and Fire ruled a free spirit

As a dancer with the legendary teacher, Katherine Dunham, who motivated the shy young girl to blossom and shine

She learned new languages and traveled to far and wide exotic places soaking up foreign cultures and faces

She was always searching for love and acceptance and enjoyed it though short and brief until she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl that she affectionately named Kitt

Eartha's life was now complete now that she had her child - someone to cherish and love

Both were different as night and day but their love ran deeper and stronger than skin - everyone noticed the powerful bond that couldn't be severed

Eartha had a subtle sensuality with a rich silky velvet speaking voice that turned vibrant, versatile, and passionate whenever she sang

A commanding powerful stage presence with a royal and noble aura - she possessed the carriage of a divinely queen

Outspoken and bold, she was not afraid to tell the truth - it nearly cost her career and left her exiled out of America until her triumphant return to Broadway in 1978, when she performed in the play, Timbuktu!

Her career was resurrected and skyrocketed once more and led her to many more places and open doors bringing fans from old generations and new, the queen had returned and was living life rich and fully

A strong social activist, she fought racism and injustice bringing unity and peace in numerous subtle ways from dance to social causes, she was admired and loved for being different and a vocal advocate for the outcast and rejected

On Christmas Day 2008, she left the world behind with Kitt by her side

Although she's gone, she will never be forgotten - her legacy lives on in her music and lives she touched

Farewell, Eartha Kitt
The official nickname for South Carolina is The Palmetto State, referring to the state tree (the sabal palmetto).

Eartha Mae Kitt is Eartha Kitt's real name

"Yella"(High yellow) is a negative term depicting any light skinned black as "golden and fairskinned". It is a color reference to the golden skin tone of some mixed-race people. The term was in common use in the United States at the end of the 19th century and the early decades of the 20th century, but is now considered obsolete and sometimes offensive.

Orson Welles once called her the "most exciting woman in the world."

Kitt keeps her mother's legacy alive with the home decor business, Simply Eartha, in her way to honor her mother's memory
Joshua Martin Aug 2012
Looking back on it now,
after the wars & the peace & the wars,
I wish I'd never met you.
Imagine what your life would have been like:
you would have finished graduate school
and gotten a cushy job at a large bank
and worn those **** office suits of secretaries
that show just enough cleavage to make
the boss wish he had more ******,
and your sales for the quarter would have
skyrocketed like a smooth stone
fired from a slingshot and you would be
as happy and content as you were
in the age of innocence,

And you would pass the field
where I lay sometimes on your way to work, staring
at the seas on the moon-wondering
why they look like closed eyes-
But alas,
-things didn't work as planned.
We met and fought and made peace
and now we spend our nights together
in that lonely field,
staring at the face of the moon,
eternally wondering why He
doesn't smile back.
Alayna Coleman Oct 2015
No one really understands. No one knows what it is like to not know what you are feeling or why you feel that way. One moment you are laughing with friends having the time of your life, then suddenly it hits you. The pain of it all everything just hits you. Mid laugh you stop and nothing is funny after that. Others voices become the most annoying sound in the world and isolation seems like heaven compared to the group of friends who always seemed to cheer you up and keep you company. You aren't sad but you aren't happy. You don't feel anything in fact you would give the world to feel something in those moments whether it be pain or even just to cry and feel sad or to suddenly jolt back to happiness again. You try for hours to feel something but nothing ever works. When the feeling of emptiness finally subsides you start to feel guilty for all the ways you tried to **** the emptiness. You regret everything you did in those past hours wondering why you didn't have enough self control to just wait it out. You become furious you lash out. Everyone irritates you and everyone is somehow to blame. You yell and cry and cuss and everyone you love becomes a victim to this. The crazy part about all of this is that you don't even know why you were sad to begin with and don't even know now why you are angry. Then suddenly the third and final monster takes over. The worry is too much to handle. You overthink everything. Suddenly everyone hates you and nothing you could ever say will change that. You become known for always saying sorry even when you are repeatedly told that "it's okay." You begin shaking and you feel uneasy. Sleep is out of the question and don't even get me started on trying to socialize. Crowds become your worst enemy and standing alone makes your heart beat faster. So fast in fact that the world starts to spin. You lose control of what is happening you long for the comfort of your room when all of a sudden you are waking up face down on the pavement not remembering anything that has happened only to go home and start the process all over again the next day...

The doctors say you have a combination of depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder. Being yourself you deny everything. You are a perfect human being and could never imagine having all three of those things. Reluctant as you are they prescribe medication. Inside you are relieved hoping that finally everything will just be normal. You will know what you are feeling and why and everyone will like you because you are happy. You no longer will yell at people for no reason just to apologize 30 million times afterward and you will never fear crowds again. You become excited overjoyed even and cannot wait to take the medication the next morning. Sadly like everything in your life you are disappointed, let down once again by the human race. The medication does nothing to help you. It in fact makes everything numb. You are now not able to be irritated or sad even but you also are incapable of feeling joy. You are constantly feeling sick to your stomach and you feel like staying in bed is the best option. You believe that so much that you don't leave your bed. You haven't been to school for roughly a week and thinking about going back brings tears to your eyes. Your appetite has either skyrocketed or hit a rock bottom. Your friends hate this new you and so do you. The doctors tell you that after a few weeks all of it will go away. Being yourself, you deny everything. No one really understands.
Julia Mar 2013
The air was still & silent with God

I burrowed my face into your shirt
surrounded you with my arms

you returned to me your own arms
and you said three common words
in a common sequence

& even in my dream heart,
I skyrocketed.
I echoed your three common words
& I smiled to myself

I smiled into your shirt
I even breathed you in
whispers of holy fog swirled around us

& I woke up,
but even then

I swore your scent lingered on me
Angie Christine Oct 2018
I began the year in a familiar yet increasingly desolate place and am closing it in a new, yet somewhat beautifully familiar place both literally and metaphorically.
The center photo sums up my year in a rather cliché yet accurate manner.
I started the year with the mindset I would rid myself of all negativity.
I ended last year the same.
It all began in my mind.
I had to choose to let go.
I had to accept that  my desire to change had skyrocketed above my desire to remain the same emotionally, mentally, or physically.
I was trapped inside a chrysalis I wish had the strength to break out of 20 years ago.
However, if I had fought it I wouldn’t have crash landed at the feet of all my hopes and dreams completely and utterly incapable of fighting it any longer.
I’ve always performed as the supporting actress of my own life.
I was more hungry for acceptance by my former cast members than I was to satiate my ravenous hunger for (that once dreaded word)
C H A N G E .
In one moment , what began as a dream became a CHOICE followed by an ACTION.
Yes.
I said, “Yes.”
And just like that, everything changed.
I felt sun on my once withered wings .
I’ve always been a child of the moon.
In that moment, just a moment of sun had me fighting, kicking, and screaming to break free of the bonds which once held me captive to their mental slavery.
I can’t explain this without metaphors and analogies because this year I have experienced LIFE in a way I never have and I don’t have words to describe it.
I had never allowed myself to live free .
Do we know we are free once our bonds are undone?
I didn’t.
I didn’t know until someone told me I was free.
I had struggled beneath the weight of the burdens of the girl I was told I was supposed to be.
Set yourselves and one another free.
I’m so grateful I did.
Written 12/31/17 at 11:54am
Love comes in a variety of colors. Blue, red, pink, orange, yellow, all the bright colors that lead me directly back to you. You send my heart twirling in circles, and in return, my world is turned upside down, inside out and round and round. I cannot express everything that my heart is trying to say. There are words I'm not sure of; unheard names of emotions that have skyrocketed so high. If I had my say, I could only say I love you more than you'll ever know.
You often hear 'Love makes the world go around.' Let me tell you this: I have to agree, but I had to say it in a different way.
Ray May 2010
The world was once alive
Back when it was new and pushed the limits of sane
And didn’t give a ****

The world grew fame
And fell for the moon, while they skyrocketed backwards
Not giving a ****

Yet the world crashed
Burned and grew still with the utter feeling of emptiness
And no one gave a ****
If you would like to contact me, email me at raydioactivee@hotmail.com; please do not take my stuff, just ask :) and check out my blog and stuff :)

http://raydioactivee.tumblr.com/
Yo...over here in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
all the other ones (that follow below)...
them guys imposters I write – every ƒµ©** one.

Curiosity and discretion
got the better part of me valor
as mined fingers typed Matthew Scott Harris
(quite some time, but I felt compelled
to share today March 13th, 2020)

into google search bar, lo and behold and
much to my chagrin and amusement,
others with mine namesake constituted
roles in various walks of life
carrying out their whiles and ways, sans
existence covered the realm

from administration of President
Dwight David Eisenhower
the celebrity circuit, where his
claim to fame and fortune
as movie Producer

(born in Jacksonville, Illinois)
for silver screen cinematic
debut enterprise finished
regal Dimension far
off beaten track sans degree

(from University of Illinois)
in Civil Engineering. After practicing
as an engineer for several years,
a decision made to open a restaurant
in Chicago with nary a har
binge er - After operating
popular eatery for more than ten years,

a whim directed destiny
viz hit time to make movies
curved renown skyrocketed quest
analogous to aligning skill sets
into stratospheric isobar
which exertion pitched
head stone carvers to acquire vital context

where next of kin content
with obituary hiz death
unexpectedly Tuesday morning,
Feb. 24, 2015 of Loudonville),
tomb epitaph incorporated passion
as avid outdoorsman,
who loved fishing, hunting
and canoeing. I aced as supervisor with

telecommunication company,
Telecom Towers Inc.
yet by some stroke
of premature pronouncement,
whence during funeral
the coffin lid rose a jar
scaring the s
t out the

backsides per mourners,
where demise found sights
drawn to undertake
a totally tubular career
as graphic artist from Buffalo
(Educated at RPI), who
constantly looks for work

today and tomorrow,
out of necessity to pay bills,
and as prodigy with numbers
attained plaudits as

financial solvency ****, and par
for the course irresistibly
tempted forging credentials -
with self crafted faux pas star

re: expert as a fraudulent
Loan Officer NMLS # 240801
but Youngblood’s hired fretful
dexterous dude for extra cash tip play *** tar,

while police got tips from
wagging tail, and unfortunately
butter field bursar ruse
landed rising star into clinker
sans Cook County Inmate at age 49

CB NUMBER 19043182,
when arrest occurred Tuesday,
January 13, 2015 11:53 AM,
and released the next day due to first        
time misdemeanor plus absent
recidivist incarceration possession
of 5000+ grams of Cannabis,

which exposure to magical, miracle
and mystical herb set sites
to become a professor
Clinician of pharmacology
“bushed” to help fight
the so call forever "drug war".
Amanda rodeiro Feb 2015
How can someone love me when I don't even love myself?
  I miss the ocean, it was the closest thing to love I've ever felt. It was winter and the water was numbing, to the point where you couldn't decipher your toes from your fingers. Im not religious but when i floated there with my arms spread, my face up and my eyes wide open to the blaring sun, i swear i felt god smiling at me.
  Every time i go in the ocean, i feel reborn and alive. I'm not religious but every time i go under and then surface, i feel like I'm getting baptized all over again. If the warmth you feel when your laying out in the sun is gods blessing, than i think I've found him.
  I can't throw myself selflessly into faith
How can i trust someone that might not even be there when i can't even trust myself?
  I miss the mountains, it was the closest thing to love I've ever felt. It was summer and my independence skyrocketed. Im not religious but when i stood alone, outside my tent on the grassy plain, staring at the sherbet sunrise, i swear i found my heaven. If the purity of the rain falling on that mountain is god showing me the million chances i have to start anew, than i think I've found him.
  I can't throw myself selflessly into faith
  How can i believe in someone I've never seen when i can't even believe in myself?
  How can i devote myself to someone when i still need to devote myself to me?
  How can i open my heart when I'm afraid to let any ounce of hope in?
  How can i live life to the fullest when I'm already filled to the brim with despair?
  How can i hand myself over to you when i know you can't answer the questions I'm dying to find the solutions to.
Re: ah... what better way to while away the countless leisure

hours,while coronavirus (covid-19) assails humanity across thee

globe? (covid-19) assails humanity across thee globe? he answer to

that question my friend... explained within attached gobbledygook

(safe at any speed to open without latex gloves, nor face mask)

courtesy - Curiosity got the better part of me as thine fingers typed

Matthew Scott Harris into the google search bar lo and behold and

much to my chagrin and amusement, others with mine namesake

constituted roles in various walks of life carrying out their whiles

and ways sans existence covered the realm from administration of

President Dwight David Eisenhower the celebrity circuit, where his

claim to fame and fortune as movie Producer (born in Jacksonville,

Illinois) for silver screen cinematic debut enterprise finished regal

Dimension far off beaten track sans degree (from University of

Illinois) in Civil Engineering, After practicing as an engineer for

several years, a decision made to open a restaurant in Chicago with

nary a harbinger - After operating popular eatery for more than ten

years, a whim directed destiny viz hit time to make movies curved

renown skyrocketed quest analogous to aligning skill sets into

stratospheric isobar which exertion pitched head stone carvers to

acquire vital context where next of kin content with obituary hiz

death unexpectedly Tuesday morning, Feb. 24, 2015 of

Loudonville), tomb epitaph incorporated passion as avid

outdoorsman, who loved fishing, hunting and canoeing. I aced as

supervisor with telecommunication company, Telecom Towers Inc.

yet by some stroke of premature pronouncement, whence during

funeral the coffin lid rose a jar scaring the s**t out the backsides per

mourners, where demise found sights drawn to undertake a totally

tubular career as graphic artist from Buffalo (Educated at RPI), who

constantly looks for work today tomorrow, out of necessity to pay

bills, and as prodigy with numbers attained plaudits as financial

solvency ****, and par for the course irresistibly tempted forging

credentials - with a self crafted faux pas star re: expert as fraudulent

Loan OfficerNMLS # 240801 - but Youngblood’s hired fretful

dexterous dude for extra cash tip play *** tar, while police got tips

from wagging tail, and unfortunately butter field bursar ruse

landed rising star into clinker sans Cook County Inmate at age 49

CB NUMBER 19043182, when arrest occurred Tuesday, January 13,

2015 11:53 AM, and released the next day due to first time

misdemeanor plus absent recidivist incarceration possession

of 5000+ grams of Cannabis, which exposure to magical, miracle

and mystical herb set sites to become a professor Clinician of

pharmacology to help fight the so call "drug war."
Gabriel Sep 2018
I dream a silly dream
   my poems were  dancing
in a moonlight sky my words float
and rained on your head
  
I dream a lovely dream
     my hands held yours in a drunken night
    as we walked on a road we used to call home
         Gazing on those eyes the moment skyrocketed so high no pill can do

I dreamt of you in many ways
   kissing booths on a carnival
to drinking sessions on a side way
   I've never felt so euphoric
as the day these lips kissed yours

As I woke up from those dreams
I couldn't wait for bedtime
              reality kills me when you're not the one
habits#4
Andrew T Hannah Mar 2013
I've been here for about 2 years.
     I'm getting critique from all my peers.
          We sit at the bar and we say "Cheers!"
               And set ourselves up for the next frontier.

Every day and every night.
     Going over the steps is quite a fight.
          All I do is "Revise, Rewrite."
               Until im ready to say "Alright."

Im not yet ready to say goodbye.
     2012 went by in the blink of an eye.
          Please send me reviews and I'll reply.
               I'll just barely squeeze by.

Now numbers are the figure that beckons.
     One number specifically, the number two thousand.
          It skyrocketed so quick, I don't know what happened.
               Clearly, poetry must be my passion.
Hasan Maruf Jul 2017
One night I was walking in the woods
It was blistery, dark and cold
It was the night the whisper came
And this story must be told

At first I thought it was the wind
Blowing frantically over the trees
Then I heard a catlike meek voice
Flowing through the breeze

I felt warm breath around my neck
Then it crept up gently to my ear
The murmur I heard was serene and sweet
But it filled me up with precipitous fear

"My lamb," she crooned sleekly
It chilled and killed me to the bone
"Resign your mortal life and submit to me,
And you will never have to be alone."

I spun around to stare at the sight
Of who muttered these words to me?
But miles of trees and woodland finite
Were all that I could see

"Where are you?" I yelled in the dark
Then, "Who are you?" I insisted with a bark
At first there was a dreary, dead silence
Then this is what I heard she said like a tyrant

"I am your deepest desperate desires,
To your loved ones you won't reveal.
I am the truth, fair and sparkling purifier
I am the one who can make you really heal”

"You know nothing." I sneered at her.
How dare you say you can conjure up true?
You have no idea what is buried in my heart.
What is false and what is myth- with no clue."

Her irritable laughter was full of enticing contempt.
"I know that you fancy a fantastic gore
You are trapped in a life of exasperation and detest.
I can make your spirit melt and soar"

Invisible hands grabbed my wrists
I screeched with all my might.
"I'll have your soul." she whispered to me
Well but not without a fiendish fight

I ran like prancing mouse terrified by a gigantic cat
But she bolted me like a monster to the ground.
I could now feel her sedated kiss upon my lips.
I could not utter a word but grunted a muffled sound.

"That's it." she said with burst of soothing stupor
"Do not wrangle with what you can't win
Succumb to your ecstasy in your wildest dreams,
Then your life will be laden with love without chagrin

I could feel my sternest resolve fading
Temptation was making me feeble and weak
I was in a hideous shock, as I lay there heeding
To the words I strutted to speak

"Yes." I sighed remorselessly.
“My libido has skyrocketed for what you can give.
For even though my life is tormented,
This is the life I so very crave to live."

"You're mine." she croaked with hysterical grin
"You have lost all those in your care."
When I realized what I had done
I bellowed thunderously in despair

I was still howling aloud when I was shook awake.
My deliverance it wasn't what it seemed
Then why were there spirits channeling in my gene,
If it was not just something I had dreamed
Then what could that be- Whispers not seen?
Horror/supernatural poem
Empire Jun 2019
I felt again.
Panic set in
I wanted to crawl out of my skin
I couldn’t breathe
Guilt flooded my mind
Self loathing skyrocketed
Before today, I hadn’t had a panic attack in over a year.

Apparently failure is still my trigger
Arlene Corwin Mar 2018
I never remember what poetry I've put on Facebook, AllPoetry,  or even on my own site, Arlene Corwin Poetry.  And I'm much too lazy to check.  (I suspect that that's the danger when one writes everyday)  If you've read this before well, read it again.

It just is what it is.  The fact that Sweden's smuggled weapon rate has skyrocketed since the Malmö-Denmark bridge was built - as has the crime rate.  A good example of the dark side of the moon.
The dark side of the bright side.
Tony Anderson Sep 2020
Navigate the stars
here in space
with these two hearts

Love was found
with just a kiss
now
eternal bliss

Our lives forevermore
together they shine

bliss that skyrocketed to the sky
you and I
arm in arm
walking life together
Navigating through the stars
KV Srikanth Jan 2021
Borg and Connors
Fire and Ice
Scandinavian kid
Mid Western  boy
Opposites in Personalities
Opponents in the Game
Playing hands a mirror image
Similar in goal
Immortality in Glory
Each standing in anothers path.
Inherited a Club Sport
One hundred years old
Turned tides in a decade
To bequeath an International One
Compounding of fans
Beats the Market index
If were a stock
Buffett would have Invested
Soros Traded Long
Return on Investment
Calculator would show an Error
It would require a Computer
Stadiums to Capacity
Individual sport
Never seen before
Television rating
Team sports behind
Brands Endorsed
Sales Skyrocketed
Whoever called it a Sport
Every Stadium became a Colosseum
Dont have to go to Rome
Fight till death
Punishing the ball
Revving the Spectators
Players they weren't
Armed with racquets
Complex to the Gladiators.
Clay Grass Turf Cement
Surfaces changed
Battles continued
Tenacity Endurance hit peak
Week after Week
Sun Tzu proved wrong
Winner not won before battle
Fortunes Changing by the point
Art of War put to shame
Fila and Donnay hand in hand
Double ****** Backhand
Long hair with headband
Sporting a Stubble
Magic wrist
Nerves Iced
Looked like Christ
Clay or Grass
Every fortnight in May & June
Five years in a row
Trophies in Stockholm
A feat to reckon
US Open a jinx
Trophy not in the mix
Even Achilles had his heel
Borg his at the Big Apple
66 titles and 11 slams
All at 26
Nothing more to conquer
Cried Alexander
Dropped the Sport
Void felt forever
Opponents missed him
Raised their game
Without him field was tame
Even losing to him gave players Worldwide fame.
Raised by women
To Conquer men
Jimbo trained by Gloria
Player of repute
Backyards turned into courts
Clocks stopped
No ration on duration
Handed over to the great Pancho
Mentored Him Sport and Growth
Jimbo blind to creation
Trophy only in vision
Arrows cannot miss
Clay Turf or Grass
US open belonged to Connors
3 Slams in seventy four
No 1 5 years in a  row
Wilson Steel T 2000 and Slazenger in tow
Cover of Time
A matter of time
Roland Garros dream stopped
Not Tennis but Politics played it's part
Knees  weaken
Spirits shaken
Confidence beaten
Status of Opponent
After a match against the Champion
Played 5 generations of legends and aspirants
Well into his 40s
Beating them all
Young and old
Three decades
One end was the same
Other side changed
Never out of top 10
Entire career
Weekly ranking released
Jimbos inclusion automatic
Collected 109 titles
A record standing still
Darling of the Crowds
Loved by all worldwide
Ended his career in Vegas by Winning battle of the Sexes.
Greatest player of the Century
Both shared second
First among equals
Equals among Legends
The Above a true story
There cannot be a sequel
BC happened in AD
Norbert Tasev Oct 2021
The order of power has long been established in the world! The One should have been protected from the dangers lurking in it; in the depths of his soul he is still quite stubborn, defenseless! As an exposed, orphaned child, all his pathetic pain was already felt inside: the stigma slogans of serial humiliations, terrorsita threats, as well as the permission of the majority to be ******! His dream sediment, his filthy gossip, would keep him awake, and yet he would always wake him up!
 
Troubled forgetful killer-accomplices also betrayed their Comrade Loyalty, and in the crossfire of trusting gazes there was always a series of body anxiety and self-confidence shrinkage! The same hardly forgettable complicity can be found in joke-telling; there is also a festive, ceremonial intimacy among the humiliating beatings, and with their sacrifices bleeding during murderous-joking awakenings, they grinned on their lips with a hyena grin on their lips! "I'll change my little fingers three times before I cling to them!" I would still be stuck in a chubby wall stuck in a mousetrap if I left it still!
 
The touching series of chatter-stumbles is repeated several times a day; my little track bothering is already pathetically disappointing at the same time! Where do they have preservable, eternal Friendships who could once be counted on?! Selfish error rates have already skyrocketed! It is still easier to smile on the side of all-time superiority than to make suggestions for changes! - You can consciously suspect traps who are seduced by the underworldly smell of gigs: nowhere's whims can be defended even more easily if the methods provided are taught! Someone upstairs is still having a great time…

— The End —