"sounder" poems
Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.
In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.
When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter.
For the eater
When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.
3.5k
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
Black and white and red, green, blue
Black and white and red, green, blue
Black and white and red, green, blue
Black and white and red, green, blue
We're building a sounder nation
We're building a sounder nation
We're building a sounder nation
We're building a sounder nation
Echo, echo, echo, echo
Echo, echo, echo, echo
Echo, echo, echo, echo
I can't hear you
An independent mind that thinks
An independent mind that thinks
An independent mind that thinks
An independent mind that thinks
Politicians, Mobs, Celebrities
Politicians, Mobs, Celebrities
Politicians, Mobs, Celebrities
The really really big big three
We're going down and down and down
We're going down and down and down
We're going down and down and down
There's nothing we can do
Ignorance leads us to stupidity
Ignorance leads us to stupidity
The gateway to stupidity
Ignorance is insanity
More control over the masses
More control over the masses
Gas, tax, and uneven grasses
More control over the masses
Half of what we used to have
Half of what we used to have
Half of what we used to have
And still no time to talk
Keep feeding all our enemies
Keep feeding all our enemies
No brains for independancy
We're feeding all our enemies
How can we lose everything?
How can we lose everything?
d*ck Cheney making Bling Bling Bling
And we're here losing everything
With nothing left we close our mouth
With nothing left we close our mouth
With nothing left we close our mouth
How stupid can we be?
We want to stay alive, we're dead
We want to stay alive, we're dead
We're dead if we say one wrong word
We want to stay alive, we're dead
We can't think independently
We can't think independently
We must believe, believe, believe
We can't think, we can't think
Echo, echo, echo, echo
Echo, echo, echo, echo
Echo, echo, echo, echo
I can't hear you
We're building a sounder nation
We're building a sounder nation
We're building a sounder nation
We're building a sounder nation
Black and white and red, green, blue
Black and white and red, green, blue
Black and white and red, green, blue
Black and white and red, green, blue
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 11:27 AM UTC
Floating like fans
How we're lovers undone,
Play neat,
Look long,
And clean.
Tablatures razed,
We read songs for none.
The empty
Is marked
And deemed
A Sounder's Facade,
A Shuffling Nod.
The sequence
Is set
And sown.
A vastness to reap
No illusion to weep.
I grin the substance of
All things unknown.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
I’m rummaging through the sounder parts
Of my brain trying to find
The important parts of
Where I touched you and where I felt you
How I touched you and how I felt you
Like old photos
I’m trying to configure every speck
Of color in your eyes that I saw when you looked
Into the sunset through the window –
There were blues and greens
And everything in between
When I roll over
To lie face down in bed
My sheets smell like the warm parts of your neck
So I reach down to grab your hand
And lace our fingers together
Like grape vines
But all I end up with
Is a fistful of duvet
This morning I woke up with the echoing
Of your voice calling me “honey”
Tonight I will fall asleep with the echoing
Of your voice saying my name
In the morning I will warm up
With a cup of coffee
And with the image in my head
Of how bright your eyes become
And wide your smile gets
When you talk about the ocean
And how the barnacles would get stuck to your feet
And how beautiful
The colors of the sunset
Looked against the evening sea
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 4:28 AM UTC
He undertook
Such a jolly folly
To search for his heart's twin
O'er plain, and peak
Never sparing daring
Mad quest he did begin
He careless spent
All his funny money
For he spared no expense
Heard of a man
said to uncover lovers
Without a recompense
"He's only known
as the Giant Bryant"
For there were none bigger
So off he went
For how dare-he tarry
With the greatest vigor
Within one moon
He did righted sighted
The giant's stone castle
And cautious stepped
Midst the towers flowers
For he was quite facile
With guarded prose
Lest he adverse converse
Relayed his quest of years
And though none be
A more mighter blighter
Tall Bryant shed six tears
"Your search for love"
Reflects gallant talent
And will surely quench thirst
In yonder vale
In a deeping sleeping
A daughter who's born first
A true love's heart
And hair flaxen waxen
Braids tressed with a blue fleur
She longs for love
To keep-her deeper
Hope steels her to endure
It was just so
For he found-her sounder
In the vale with fields green
Her braided hair
In breeze saving waving
With the suns golden sheen
As he held her
In their blissing kissing
Knew he'd ne'er search again
For in her eyes
Shown a growing knowing
Reflecting his hearts twin
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
looking across time
from my etheric perch
or was it a pike
as I sat on my flounder…
as I was perched on a flounder…
perched on a pike I floundered
pike perch flounder
flounder perch pike
pike flounder perch
mike’s rounder peach
like sounder greetings
tricycle ground feet
triglycerides around meat
polymorphic lounge ****
people forget
poetry is expression
silliness for its own sake
nonsensical whimsy
for laze-abouts and lollygaggers
with unicorns and dragons
nothing is more magical than language –
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
It must be a great feeling
To be that guy and get to say
"I'm in a good place right now"
Where is this place? Why wasn't I invited?
What short straw did I pull that left me here
in this bad place
With nothing to help me fend off my responsibilities except a pen and pad.
And the pen doesn't feel all too mighty right now.
I long for love and acceptance
I do not like what I have become
Maybe people expect too much from me
Maybe it’s the defeated attitude I run around with
But I will never believe myself to be anything close to great.
Sometimes I do a good job at what I do
And sometimes, the right thing comes naturally
But if before I were a kite, now I’m a safe with walls four feet thick.
And I keep locked inside of me those memories of days when I would sore
I still dream of hot days
But secretly hope for storms
Because sometimes, silver linings get mistaken for rough weather.
Right now, I’m sitting here, with my tea going cold.
My door is open, yet I feel like it’s locked.
The weather is bright yet I am cold
And I cannot bring myself to get up
Because I do not know what I am getting up from
And I do not know why each day I come home and get straight into bed
Still hoping for something good to happen
When what I am doing is putting myself into a cage
And treating it like I am taking myself for a walk.
And so every morning I get up and I wonder what happened in my sleep to make me look so rough
And I tread on wooden floorboards that are splintered
And I make myself tea, that always has a bitter taste
And I can’t help but wonder, is this a delusion?
Am I looking at things through eyes which do not want to see the possibilities
Or am I merely living in a world in which nothing can bring me happiness?
Or at least I don’t let it.
Because what I could do
I could wake up
I could buy a better bed in which I sleep sounder
I could sand my floor so that I can walk on smooth ground
And I could get up and have juice which tastes like juice rather than tea which tastes like ****
But still
I sit here.
And I wait for motivation.
But I fear I only get such motivation when something dies and I feel inspired
Because life lost leads you to believe that you are wasting your life
It puts a spark into a dark place
And I do not want to sit around and wait for something to die before I feel the motivation to change my life.
That isn't how it should be.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC
Van Gogh lost an ear
And ****** was born
Something tells me history
Will repeat itself
Is repeating
Roots to grow
Roots to pull up
Like the near future
My star-clock keeps resetting
Connect the dots
I don't believe in accidents
And I'm the most sane I'll ever get
Call it what you will
In the waves and on the ground
Is where I find myself
And yet that's where
The enemy lies
Or say they tell me
Another truth turned on its head
The weight of my decisions
You can't handle
Yet it's not your heart
Frozen to the mantle
In the clouds
Eyes peer down
A ***** on a mechanical bull
A cup transformed into a robot
They sure have eyes everywhere
Turning big sister into a threat
And if we're all headed underground
Why the mixed bait of suicide and peace
Danger or sleep
And if it all happens for good reason
Why the dependency on TV skies
Hearts or eyes
Read the diagram of a head
If it makes you sleep sounder in bed
But the anatomy of a mind
Will put your concrete beliefs in double-bind
Roots to grow
Roots to pull up
The future is here
Our star-clock keeps resetting
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 1:06 AM UTC
An abstraction of the mind
Which left a mind blind
From all the beauty
Of the outside world
Was it the word or the world?
Was it the mystery of the swirl?
Was it the majestic benevolence
Of that 2am girl?
Maybe it was something,
Maybe
It was nothing
But there was some beauty in the way that Her
Nothingness
Moved about in a room full of somebody's
Some
Bodies
With faces that pinch their pennies
When they catch the whiff
Of a dismembered mutant
Smeared in a politically corrected rightness
Ye' faith has been tampered with
There ain't much else to do
But accept that faith you were born with
And dance with the Devil's mischief
Dance the two step with someone
That shrinks when you move their way
There ain't nothing much else to say
When you know we all gonna' pay
High wind take me on your scheme
There ain't another stitch in this seam
My wheels are weak creaking white powder
And I'm hearing a late midnight sounder
Eh' lady you know where you've been
And I can bet you remember half the things you've seen
Member that egg shell moon that broke white crash?
There was something in that wave
That makes me wanna' obey
But forget about the things that I never said I knew
And forget about the face that hangs forever blue
A current ripples at the top of this afternoon sun
Lets go out
And be the bullet
To this gun
May 4, 2011
May 4, 2011 at 4:03 PM UTC
Time to concoct something the doctors can't counter
Callous my temper with imitation, an elation that makes an earthquake feel a bit sounder
If I told you I was a chameleon you would think I'm a laughing sensation
Like a small town crowd of people with personalities no deeper than flounder
But if you hit me I temper like brass in a manner of class saturation, trying to become a metal that cannot be bent or shaken by voices that are louder
Your mirror's can't see me, only you
I copy and pasted your binary in my caffeine induced computer architect blues
If I told you the color of envy was green, would you see right through my chameleon mirage tailored J. Crew
My scales aren't slimy, although you'd figure so by the way I march around in the conviction of my intelligent muse
I'm so perfect in being perfect, it's almost a clue
But paint me another color of your choosing, to mask the mask I'm wearing over my bruising
You wouldn't know what I scream behind all that I'm hiding because it's sealed under all of the mumbles of my crying
I'm calling your faintest noticeable attraction to grow to know my horrendous transaction interactions
When you sit in your desk chair with your tobacco relaxion, judging every crescendo of my orchestra tastes and core reactions
What say you demon for your jailing taxes, and your horns and your perfect brand named wood stained glasses?
Your cuff is off, your deliverance remarkable, you're becoming a ******* classic just by the stale look that your grin passes
Im not ready for aerobics, I'm not elastic, most will tell you if you try bending me into fantastic, I'm not very static
That's why imitation is suicide when you're not dynamic, looking down the barrel of a factory stack of envy plastics
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
You kiss the light in the fragrant air and free its sweet perfume
Looking for a place to spark my colors ever changing
I hear the most beautiful things you say
Wrapped in a warm blanket
My skin consumes
I whisper promises to the clouds up high above the sunlight
Hoping love sends me a storm my eyes can meet
I have not felt this way in forever
Desire given here is sounder
Because it’s right
You tame those places in me where patience is speechless
When I hear you say the most beautiful things
Until I disclose my colors ever changing
Unwrap myself from this blanket
Shining like Venus
You kiss my colors with the iridescence of your own promises
Sending a storm my eyes cannot help but meet
When I hear the beautiful things you say
I want to feel this way forever
To be complete
Jan 16, 2011
Jan 16, 2011 at 3:03 PM UTC
It seeped from your pores that day.
I've never seen anyone grow up so suddenly;
From t-shirt to tie,
and blue Gatorade to black coffee
A transformation from boy to man,
then man to stone.
You stood solid as a statue,
and stolid as a soldier;
as those days melded together.
They say being on the mind of another keeps you awake;
you must have not slept.
Yes you looked even stronger;
felt even stronger;
the exhale of your lungs sounder stronger,
the day that they closed
your father's casket.
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
I've never wanted people who didn't want me.
But I know one day you won't want me,
and I'll still want you.
I'd leave right now if I didn't love you so much,
I make your eyes light up when I say your name.
I'll keep adding scars to my heart as long as you are happy.
I wish your feelings for me wouldn't drown,
but they will.
You'll find a girl who has a stronger heart and a sounder mind.
It's okay,
I love you.
I'll stay with you for now.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
When people trash talk Bitcoin
Ask them some simple questions
See if they’ve done their homework
Below are a few suggestions
Who started Bitcoin years ago?
And what inspired this founder?
And how does fiat money work?
And why Bitcoin might be sounder?
When was Bitcoin started?
What’s relevant about that year?
And from the short whitepaper
What is meant by peer to peer?
Name two countries where it’s used
To protect from high inflation
And two more where Bitcoin helps
The people in oppressed nations
Maybe they know, maybe they don’t
Yet you’ll see how much they know
And maybe asking these questions
Will cause their knowledge to grow
An opinion based in ignorance
It’s worth? Not very great
And maybe they will do the work
To improve their financial fate
Oct 19, 2022
Oct 19, 2022 at 8:39 AM UTC
He blew in on what appeared to be a gentle breeze. Little did either detect the tsunami that was to follow. He brought Oz trailing behind him. Everything turned technicolor when he tipped his hat. Each blink revealed that twinkle in his eye and the flash when he grinned was contagious.
In Oz the sun is warmer, the rain gentler, the sleep sounder. In Oz the words that come easily unfold without effort but everything can be said with only a look and a sigh or even a touch.
He isn't aware of his departure, disappearing as fluidly as he first appeared with the technicolor cape billowing and folding in on itself. Like he has jumped into a black hole ....or....he finally found the magic to make that carpet fly like we always joked about........only he's just returned to the emerald city (not really (-; ) Bright lights beam in that emerald city while I remain in the black and white version of Oz
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
I had a memory of when I was little
That wasn't drudged up by pictures
This is very rare
I used to sleep with a bible in my bed
I thought it would keep the monsters away
Kept it under the sheets at the foot
If only I still believed it worked,
Than maybe,
I'd sleep sounder.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 1:24 AM UTC
muscle and teeth bite into her
tearing apart her sensibilities
eating her whole
swallowing her soul
and the worst part is
is that she doesn't mind
she doesn't mind at all
the strangest thing this relief is
sense to sense, nerve to pull
powder blue restrains me so
it's the way it is
or should've been.
mother raised her right
it could've been--
strong bones shiny eyes
sunny milk and porcelain
pretty girl pretty hair
spiteful shaking windy air
tossing golden dead cells
off her shoulders
feigning no awful mystery
giving nothing to hide
for youth has been kind
but what if, the sultan cried
what if the sparrow died?
to the bird that lost it's flight
from being powdered blue
from windless nights?
soaked in water-like tendencies
she'll become like you--
amphibian needs and transparencies
water drops on countertops
sniffing noses every night
runny eyes dry sockets
chains held tighter the safer and sounder
of the faucet transgressions
to the sewer conventions
to the minor inventions
of the heart
and beat beat beat beat
who cries heart
who cries wolf
my Rogerian adventure
cries the moonless girl
and powdered blue this muscle tee'd man
he's her solider her painted town
oh la la she cries
on his shoulder
running dripping faucets
on his shoulder
you see
there's nothing here
and Gui Jun will stand here, eternal flame,
And soon, there's only one thing left to do
i promise
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
Money allowed to ever expand
Brings scarcity to every land
Money scarce and tightly bound
Creates abundance all around
An ever increasing money supply
Destroys our freedom by and by
We’re not even free to choose
We must spend now or we will lose
The Bitcoin Standard echoes true
A sounder money for me and you
Allowing us to save, or invest
Or buy the things that we think best
Let’s build the world we want to see
With lots of wealth and energy
A world where money’s scarce and tight
With freedom sure, our future’s bright
Oct 28, 2022
Oct 28, 2022 at 10:21 AM UTC
of a million strands of kite string - forming tornadoes through a heartbeat:
you release like a whisper - thin; but intentional.
you are a call to listen.
you are a prayer to red blood cells;
a promise of sounder sleep.
a comfortable thunder.
so send up your kites (no matter the weather).
erupt.
and rest among the whispers.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 5:52 AM UTC
~
Abraham Lincoln used to lie.
So did my mother.
Remember that time when we were little? The night we wrote our names on the sidewalk with the guts of a thousand mashed-up fireflies? I asked. The night the birds and their babies forgot to sleep? The night we felt free because we had nothing left to burn? Do you remember the way the sunrise dribbled over the horizon and leaked into our tattered converse sneakers?
As soon as you said Yes
I knew you were a liar too
Because
I made that memory up.
When you run your gritty hands through my hair, is that a lie too? I bet you’re just pretending when you put my head on our chest and breathe slowly so I’ll sleep sounder. I know the stale sweat sitting on our skin isn’t real. I guess it doesn’t matter. Because
One hundred years
is just a gasp
and a
breath
And you make me gasp every time I let you lie with me. I pant and heave and choke as your stories wiggle their way across my tongue and stick to the inside of my throat. And by then the truth doesn’t matter. You’re either a memory or a mirage or a dream and I don’t care. All I need are those
Goose Bumps
you leave scattered
across
my
sheets.
Jul 1, 2011
Jul 1, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
Is it the number of toys you own and use,
gathering mud, blood, or dirt,
to figure out your worth.
Is it the number of people you have met,
share a smile to an intimate encounter,
all relationships are life's echo sounder.
Is it the number of days and the misspent ways
that the grains of sand
fell from your hand.
Is it the number of experiences, of all that you have absorbed,
from head to toe, inside and out with every sense,
in those moments of past, present and future tense.
Is it the collection, of the cells that make you who,
and the places, moments you share
with God, you who, He spared.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
The distance fed the boredom grew
Our facades, I abhored them too
I crawled upon the floor for you
Not one hand out, I bore you two
Though humble and in pain I kept
Not even but a tear you wept
Though ever since the day you left
Not sounder have I slept...
...see in that heartbreak, there is truth
A heart did break, one heart not two
I brandish mine, untouched and new
For who could love a beast like you?
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 5:49 PM UTC
Those who take life and shake it a bit,
to make trauma less,
And fit all error into pockets of love,
will also enmesh
Forgiveness in and around each hurt,
to become a breed
With rarer hearts, and sounder minds,
who, with no vested needs
Are free to serve the spirit of giving
as from their core emits
Understanding and quiet acceptance
of facts befitting
An air of compassion, then, easier
their souls will soar
Toward untroubled lives, more ready
To show rarer love than before.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
Wrapped together
Pieces of me in enamel
Embalmed in enamour
Right and left brain sampled
Pieces of me scrambled
Personalities i see in myself
Pampoured and enamoured
Trust in whats felt.
But love is hampered
In personalities i see in myself
A tragic hell pondered
A beautiful future floundered
Hold true to a certain candor
What i show in public is
prospective grandeur
A slight slander
To those who think they know what i meant.
Its really just provocative pander.
Cause im really hellbent
On destroying your grammar of self
And mine. restore my health. this world is asinine. But at least i found her. But im sounder without her.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 5:55 AM UTC