"structuring" poems
Growth prevaded by a soil of emotions, rain of memories engraving the seed for a flower awaiting to bloom, the gift of life in a moving motion of time, forming and structuring the inner beauty of one,
Over years the spring of this beauty blossoms depending on the deeds, deepest wishes such as kindness and intuitions majestically,
A righteous soul will truly stand proud in the sun, alike a helianthus,
A trecious persons flower will be dead, as if it was drought, burnt in the heat of summer, the sweet aroma of life will still fill the air,
Caught in endless change of a devils distorted, desperate working,
The servants have the chance to either change for the better or to be ruined in their transient existence, fading into the dust they came of,
Beauty cast in the heart remains forever with enough care and work,
So this flower shall never rot, as long as it is protected with a desire and will to do good, to be gentle and truthful, thoughtful and wise,
Compassion, greatness and deep loving concern are a fertilizer,
Spread this kindness and you may have planted the seed for another beautiful child of the earth; A precious flower
~ Umi
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC
Scared, to let the words die, he hid, amid the languid luxuries of solitary structuring, lavished of the jaded and anguished lines, for lines melodrama, of the deviled days, of state, of mind, in fate, in kind, of the nether commas, devoid in honest ignorance of written words, dying on the caterpillars, cocooned, in all that's assumed, lost, in metamorphosis, never knowing this, is a dream, within a dream, of hope, clinging with stinging fingertips, ears ringing in the ripplits of a synesthesic pulse of visual signals, subliminally sounding the sirens, of solidarity, in the silent screams, of the sun rising, writhing in wanton seduction of my functions laying the heartened words of dead birds, falling from the sky, hardened in sloven cries, to justify, the means, tapping out on the screens, of a misnomer, a loner, in a coma, phoning you from the corner to warn ya, of the storm, in words prone to patience, in imaginit immaculance of the limitless limits, of livid lovers loving each-others lullabies, lolly-gagging in the illegibility, of our lucidity in the pity of leveled lofts, lovely-ly, levitating in elevating thought, fraught with passionate poetry, of ghostly words, blurred in the debilitating reasoning of reasonable reason, seasonally.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC
Our galaxy, a ship, speeding into the depths, of deep space, a casualty in permit, heeding the concepts, of our place, in space-less mass, glimmering from the cast, of gods, even from the cracks and smog, we move along the path, of our intent, hell bent to extend our wrath, upon the woes of men, unknown to the myriad angles, in the dangled essence, of the limitless blessings, in the finite structuring, of negative nothings, filling our hearts of imagination, manifesting, in our epiphanies recollections, of days gone, but came back to be, born freely, looping infinitely, simultaneous, in every possibility of personally realized realities, realizing themselves in sunless helms of technology, merging with the organics of our being, and seeding, the start of everything.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 2:13 PM UTC
The water drowns the sky
Obscuring it's face
It's stagnant over time
God clad in lace.
These sentences I'm structuring
Are designed to make you weep
These brain cells that I'm rupturing
Causing anti peace leak.
I compose these rhyming insults
Backwards and inside out
Loathe the Newly found results
That are tested about me around town.
I'm regularly ready to rip off the head
Of the hydra that has spent
The last of it's heads
By sticking out it's neck
Hanging it over the guillotine
To stir in all the gelatine
with the sugar to sweeten up the mix
The lay people on the street are starting to see the fix
The fix we call life
With the knives,
And the scythes,
And the cries,
And the ties,
And the strife,
And to buy,
And to cry,
And to lie,
And to spy
Then to die.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 3:01 PM UTC
It was time to do some re - structuring
In - house changes were necessary to bring
about better performance, modernization
otherwise we'd be left behind with no motion
He spent his time leaning on a *****
doing nothing, not good enough we're afraid
then a quiz programme with as much charisma
as a wet fish - now we wouldn't want to be churlish
However, contract has expired, you're fired
from your duties - we're moving on to new things
anything must be better than what dullness brings
we may not use your services again -going
'Well gentlemen, that's another one gone
who shall we get rid of next so long.'
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Gawking at the screen
I convene here
What words should I accumulate?
Tonight
Vocabulary building up
Structuring the tallest and widest of sentences
One hand, I hold a dictionary
At the desk,Is my thesaurus
Matching wits with myself
How do I use partial vowels?
Grammar mostly perplex
To a perfect sentence
No other quotations is near
An average line is over due
What imprison me from being incomplete?
An unexplainable sentence
Of writing
On a foggy Monday
As I awaken
By touching
A blank sheet of paper
Jan 27, 2010
Jan 27, 2010 at 5:35 AM UTC
Deny we the possibility of order
Ignore we an Outside Law
Suggest we an endless possibility
Worlds without end
Positions simultaneous
Moving in all directions or none
Claim we the future as ours
Defy we realities of law external
Look we inward-outward simultaneously
To become one or none or all
Reject a single story
Saw we the Arms from Truth
Reduce we the Other to I
Forget we the order of Universes
Without-Within
The clockwork structures
Atomic
Celestial
Genetic
Physical
Biological
In and or-ganic
Reorder or Retell we the Cyclical Tales
Birth and Rebirth
Seasons and Times
Journeys of stars swirling through space
Endless flights of planets
Endless migrations of living things
Each rhyming to universal rhythms
Watts and amperes circular-linear mysteries
Predicting futures from their undisputed histories
Deny we external truth
Held here in the gracious grasp of gravity
Warmed gently by a tolerant star
Inhabitants of a universe
Unable to explain itself
Or even how its atoms came
To repel and to attract
In perfect tensions
Or to unleash energies
Predictable and measurable
In milliseconds and millenniums
---------------------------
Marionettes macabre
Cut loose from our strings
Dancing slowing dirges
Proclaiming opening spaces
Beneath closed skies
Denying a Maker
Rejecting hymnody to sing
Ditties laden with lies.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 12:14 PM UTC
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free.
Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane.
Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety.
Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels.
Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality.
Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth.
Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea.
Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears.
The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me.
Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build.
Its lovely here.
Laughing in the lashes.
Signing my entrapment's.
Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes.
Sometimes
It just feels right to be alive.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
Proverbs make the essence of human behaviour bearable.
On the contrary - human behaviour doesn't have such a tremendous impact on our thoughts. When you behave, you don't think much. You just do it! And if your habits are healthy, then you're a lucky one. Or a wise one. Discipline is in structuring your will. Strong will and work builds character. They say your character is your destiny.
Practice !!
And never forget: wether you're doing or non-doing
( wise or unwise for the observer ) ~ always listen to your heart.
The heart has 5000 times stronger electro magnetic energy than our mind. Don't exhaust yourself overthinking or overworking.
Discipline doesn't suffice for moments in which we have to make a decision. Some decisions are important. Don't ***** your life!
Don't think too much!
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free.
Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane.
Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety.
Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels.
Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality.
Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth.
Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea.
Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears.
The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me.
Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build.
Its lovely here.
Laughing in the lashes.
Signing my entrapment's.
Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes.
Sometimes
It just feels right to be alive.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
As i shape stanzas, Adam Lanzas **** the cameras, in glamorous stands up, against the manners of actors, in the matters of forgotten factors, in a world gone bananas, I still cant stand us, even when we are dead.
I have tried every side of the bed to no diligence unchecked, in a nervous wreck of annoyance coining in and destroying it, for a bonus, its bogus to know us, but i'm owning it yet, with no regrets and loose concepts to be swept to ***** and on my feet.
I'm obsolete, and my talk is cheaper than most, as i host my feats in a single page, post heathen faze incomplete, as it is only so lonely in the frozen face of flattery, where i may fill my battery, but nothing more, in boring affordability, storing dreams for safe keeping to a later day that may never be, but hey, what does it matter anyway, i will either be, or not be.
I may be just lapsing in luxury, rupturing the subtlety of my structuring around the scars of brain parts too far to reach.
Lets meet on middle grounds with silent screams and loose eyes, fiddling the sounds and singing for the criers, expiring behind less than inspiring doors.
I am just bored, praising the lords of a more recordable source, reliably on course, with a deplorable force, endorsing the chores of servitude, never meaning to be rude, as i enjoy my solitude, while in the employ of the gratitude for what i got, but im not...
That boy anymore, my wonder turned wandering and i will never be that baby again, nor alone, so let go, in knowing the flow can be trusted in showing us something more, said the slave to his ***** before a morbid torrent to show her core to the floor of a showroom, vacuumed into space, awakening to the fate, of monotonous finality, praying to randomly generated gods, for the fogs of war... or anthing more, than this.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
I don’t know how to feel about anything anymore,
I just don’t,
It’s neither here nor there,
Not hidden just never gotten to,
I can never fully open up to anyone,
But then again who really can?
Sometimes I feel empty,
But I soon remind myself how selfish it is to feel that way,
How much suffering there is in the world,
How much I have to be thankful for,
But it’s not the things I have that make me happy,
It’s the people I know and the connections I have.
The only sadness I harness commences from the loss of human contact,
With the loss of a friend,
Being away from family,
Feeling like we’ll never be the same again,
No matter what it’s like I can always be to blame,
For something.
For not stopping what’s wrong,
For not doing what’s right,
It’s always a matter of what’s next,
Who’s next.
Sometimes I feel tears coming on,
But I don’t let them come out,
My chest tightens,
I feel weak; and the sick cycle perpetuates.
But I know it’s nothing out of the ordinary,
Everyone must feel this way,
All people are the same,
I wish they would realize that.
Maybe I am an idealist,
But at least I have a vision,
A vision similar to King’s,
More demanding but less articulated,
I have a dream that one day everything will be ok,
Everything.
I know that can happen.
But they say I’m different,
They mean it in a good way,
So I take it as a compliment,
I’m too shy to ask for clarification,
In fear that I might seem conceited,
Asking to hear more about myself,
Today though, I asked.
He said it’s because I’m not like anyone else,
Well. That certainly didn’t answer my question,
And even if it did, it didn’t make me feel any better,
After all everyone is different from everyone else.
No one thinks the same way,
No one has all the same experiences,
Nor do they formulate the same reactions or reflections,
I believe that if I had started dictating these thoughts a millisecond before or after I did, that they would be completely different,
Not because my thoughts would be changing,
Rather because the kaleidoscope of our minds are always tumbling,
Rolling around,
Re-structuring,
Not in a good way or a bad way.
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 5:16 PM UTC
A lengthy poem has smaller hits
but the author can push through the gist
of inerrant musings of the soul
until he bleeds pus in the sole.
Never meant to cause any disturbance
unless my words bother you like flatulence.
to gain a thought is to make a mind queasy
albeit structuring words to poems is not that easy.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 5:53 AM UTC
I've passed the space of mortals;
Within the abyss, a hidden path
Entries into sacred dimensions
Summoning,
Channeling my vessel
I've stood between these portals;
Constantly entwined,
Fused with the stars
Figuring out the past/ the spirits
Entering, mentoring my purpose
Haunted by extinct forces ~
Modulating sequences of
energy, forming around me
The key to finding power;
Lost within this hostile fabric
Grasp the relic, seize it's secrets
How did the light commence? Tell me!
Grasp the relic, that which you seek will guide you
Cursed craft,
Conjures horror through
prophecy
Ripped from texts of grimoires
Haunts the mind;
Insight from the lost
I can see
Storm clouds emanating
Rays
Illuminate
My foundation
Break confines,
My birthright iminent
Manifest:
Channel through higher levels
Space and time
Warped by my intention
Transcend death
Awaken the ascension
As was foretold,
Enter the shadow
Dimensions -
Clashing at my will
Star clusters,
Cascading toward new realms
Orisons -
Structuring the suns
Galaxies,
Altering from my plight
Lure ~
Harvest spirits
From realms beyond
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
I FEEL PRETTY...OH SO...PRETTY!
I a...
...wake
covered in glorious glitter
smelling strongly of PVA glue
sticking to my cheek
very
hung
over
& covered in blueorange
yellowred feathers
a bubble
recently blown
perched upon
my nose
I...still....half coma...tose
tiny bubbles travel
amongst my curls
as through
a bigger bubble brightly
nestling neatly
over my right eye
I observe
my tiny daughter
purse her lips
& kiss
more bubbles
into being.
“Till...y! ”
I force my lips
(still frozen in sleep)
to some
how speak:
“What...you...do? ”
(even my syntax and sentence structuring is shot)
She smiles sweetly: “I’m
...pretty-ing you! ”
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
I FEEL PRETTY...OH SO...PRETTY!
I a...
...wake
covered in glorious glitter
smelling strongly of PVA glue
sticking to my cheek
very
hung
over
& covered in blueorange
yellowred feathers
a bubble
recently blown
perched upon
my nose
I...still....half coma...tose
tiny bubbles travel
amongst my curls
as through
a bigger bubble brightly
nestling neatly
over my right eye
I observe
my tiny daughter
purse her lips
& kiss
more bubbles
into being.
“Till...y! ”
I force my lips
(still frozen in sleep)
to some
how speak:
“What...you...do? ”
(even my syntax and sentence structuring is shot)
She smiles sweetly: “I’m
...pretty-ing you! ”
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 6:55 PM UTC
I've been getting too busy
Structuring words and doubts
Still counting my money while
Relationships burn out
Like cherries that flicker
Away with the wind and
I'm still not convinced
That this death is the end, but
I'm scared of the clock, look
Checking accounts on lock, been
Spending time on the lot, been
Pushing the good paper,
Hoping my flow doesn't rot
Like this body I'm caged in
Then you're gone like a thot that
You thought you could use when
Your bloods running hot and
Steam floats from the faucet
Wash your hands of the particles
But soaps a slippery slope when
You forget where you came from.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 3:07 AM UTC
*All we are is nothing but a blanket covering the world.
Nothing more than a piece of clothing covering its ******
We are a split second in the handles of a clock;
the sole whim within the imagination of reality.
An sporadic ****** when riding what we so call life,
but it doesn't really last enough to take another ride.
Our skins are filled with nothing but pure lust
and our bones are only nothing more than dust.
We are a mere heartbeat within the world's heart.
The blink of an eye within the history of humanity.
We are one more pattern in a sequence that never ends.
The fading echo of the voices of society's insanity.
We are the vague flashback of a future we will never live.
A small particle of water in a falling raindrop.
The modifying adjective structuring a sentence of our story.
The rush to the eye of a single fallen teardrop.
What else are we but the literal meaning of nothing?
The same kind of nothing which ignorance finds in art.
We brought nothing to the world but our own life
and nothing but life we will be taking when we depart.
We were born and built out of nothing
and so nothing shall then be our ending;
Nothing, as flowers when they are withered;
Nothing else, shall we ever be considered.*
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
Ocean...
Deep and unexplored to the fullest...
Your that racket in my head I can't get out, foolish...
We mess around, wishing we could make *** a reality...
But In reality, the realness of our vibe turns fable into fact...
In fact, it's only your ocean that keeps me in tact...
Rhyming words is easy, but structuring words about you is the most complex...
Things form in my mind I cannot explain...
Something like the deep dark monsters that ponder at the bottom...
Your coral reef cuts deep, I still choose to walk, even when love blisters my feet...
Ocean...
Repeat, repetitive times you tell me you love me...
Your waves of effort connect with my heart ever so electric...
Eel at the surface of the water, creep, creep, you watch as I make my way towards you...
Knowing I might fall on my face...
I continue the steps because I have faith you'll catch me...
With no glove, you still manage to protect me...
Raw as un-cooked gets, firing soul through each other's anatomy...
Head to your toe, I admire...
Ocean...the only thing that has me drowning...
Your the definition of my holes...
The same answer that filled them up
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
it’s the old Schengen Theory in psychology,
casually utilise vowels as pronouns,
but then theorise ancient pronouns
as theory based non-vowels: the self (germanic / invading)
and the ego (latin / origins of still using a - z)...
then apply the ditto membrane concern for space,
which will provide you with all the time in the world
to go back from the practical into theoretical that’s
free from having empirical theory interacting with the empirical practice
known as the sedative of life: mistake: life: en route death: life: some
other mistake:
life: don’t know: life: maybe tomorrow: life: maybe never: life:
i wish: life: well at least my saturday is occupied with movies;
they did the trick of of theorising you wearing a suit and doing it
commando in the missing underwear by structuring
an impetus to pause with stating: i said
äußern sjalrf
id scribo;
it’s still a contest... heavyweight champ rom apex jr.
is fighting alarik orca schrei - with the former fighting to get rid
of ‘ from e, and the latter to attach : to u to make ü:
oddly enough the saracens in sicily were
slavs who wrote ę and ą... otherwise it's all geographically
adequate to push rome down from the top,
with the majority of accents coming above the a, b, c... zee...
although the western slavs were an oddity in that respect...
but then a part of my family is said to have been
hungarian or czech... with surnames like batuk and not
batóg... and the cousin of some cousin
marrying my great-grandfather's sister ending up
with the surname saracen... it's a shame i can't
join in the festivities of the 21st century humanity
because of jealousy that didn't mature to the extent
i wished it had... and the god that suddenly appeared
from the ashen tabernacle of the holocaust in the night:
antichrist to satan... guess what, milton was completely wrong...
i went in there to steal the blood of the messiah
signposted wine... and i came back with blackcurrant juice!
can you believe it?
satan to the antichrist: well thank **** that you didn't
choose the bread... i came back with the apple of eden
and it turned to ash... god knows what the bread of the
messiah would have turned into.
anti-buddha: hallucinogenic mushrooms...
(insert laughter among duck noises).
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
Whos the man with the master plan
With a wand in his hand
Understand divisions stands
Over unison they be the devils son
Mad the blueprint on Jekyll Island
1910 fews years later
Catastrophe struck in
Feds was created birth date were initiated
Recorded on scriptures
See the picture
Cloned us and loaned us
As slaves to the corporate field
Cant make cuz my endz break
But say just wait
Great things will come if
You put in your mind state
But that **** dont work
Everyday hustling
Only to be left struggling
Times is juggling
Disaster structuring
Over our very lives
And the run to church for lies
When they all apart of the
The american pie
Keep you dumb down and head to the ground all around
You see satellites taking pictures
Of a false heaven
Nothing but projectors images
World is a hologram
And reality is an illusion
Tactics made for confusion
People arguing over
Whos wrong whos right
When the rich folks set the sight
Following man made institutions
I couldn't take it
So i let the pistols began shooting
Intellect lootin'
We in deep need of a substitution
Cuz this world aint my home
I wasnt born to pay bills s
And die
P
Lift my hands to the sky
And God will multiply?
But thats lie
Ya just caught in a spiritual tie
Emotions vs logic Americans so **** lethargic
Regarldess
If truth is in the front of the battlefield
Most will run behind the lines of lie
And be a defense shield
Instead of using conscious mind
Free will????????
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
Leap to see where they bring you when you do exactly what everyone does
Go to see where the bronzed and shiny, the blonde and skinny, the buff and the beautiful, the catchy things sleep here, it's all about the trend and the he said this she said that magazines plastering a wallpaper of celebs and what's-hot on the interior walls structuring my mind
do they feed on your self confidence too?
They crush youth and make believe that caring will be the death of them, that a soul gets ripped free of it's shackles everytime something genuine and real happens, something naked and imperfect, something totally weird and not what you'd say is the norm, here now, won't you see me as I am? It's progressive to be a little bit different now?
What else do they say to you when you are breathless and sighing on the ground- we all see when things are wrong, but everyone here is so small when the big man wants their money and their cars and things, it's easier to have nothing but the stuff that is shoved down our throats has become something everyone needs.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC