"summarize" poems
Softly seductive, some solvent serenity
Under unbelievable umbrella unlimited
Basking baked, both bonafide believers
Making music more meaningful, memory's made
Intellectual, introspective, incalculably impervious
So **** said sits salted, suspecting supplantation
Soon silly slips said summarize serendipitous
Indefinitely inplosive, internalized into intangible inflagrante
Viciousness voided, vague variables vital
Eroticism enduring, end erit empathy
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
Written December 1, 2015
"I feel like I'm having the same conversation with guys
Hi's turn into Bye's
lies in turn make me cry
How am I supposed to summarize all of this into one line?
I'm trying.
'Babe' and "Baby, you're the one'
But have you heard, that one means none when you're blind sided and reminded that there is other's who you'd rather be with?
And you realize, your words are myths, spitting out the syllables you just want me to hear
Pet names are nothing but music to our ears
The day-to-day conversations from dawn to dusk are intriguing
But when you really look deeply, they're just words with no meaning
A lonely tactic, a feen for something more
Until the conversation closes, for I was a bore
From here it's the same love story, the way it always tends to end
I'll get the last word, press send, and then pretend as if your lack of response doesn't hurt me,
although it's killing me inside
Then I wish upon 11:11 for you to at least come to a compromise
You'll come around the bend again, and I'll try and act strong
But strong just isn't strong enough, I've missed you way too long
The story then repeats itself, a fairy tale no one enjoys
Welcome to your 'happily ever after'
when talking to a **** boy."
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC
rite like Dylan/past the point of no return
all my life wanted to rite just once like Dylan.
but too set in the errors of my way to complement/compliment a master of the phrase, the original tunes I hum’em all
plagued and plagiarized and yet pleasing
head the Head over to the refrigerator, arrive in one piece,
but totally not remembering why I came this way,
cause i am way way past the point of no return
Oh yeah oh yeah cool brother Corona light to succor the soul,
while roasting body slow in a lavender bubble bath and it ain’t
even noon and no no room for company, this solo wonder-boy
tripping alone
pay my bills in the bath, winnow the widow-maker reading list,
good ****** on a free sundaey and there ain’t no football to watch and autocorrect authority don’t like ****** it only godded one D, as if He needs two D’s to mess us up better
the Corona doing magic trick disappearing so fast and here i am
certified past the point of return and there ain’t no more beer
in the general vicinity
so now the time to summarize my little darlings;
don’t break beer bottles in the bathroom,
don’t pay your bills in the bathtub when u gots 53.42 in cking,
don’t take your iPhone unsheathed into the same vicinity
all you will be left with is maxed out cc’s,
messes you want
not to tangle with,
brain leavings of a bad poem half write,
it isn’t even bad dylan mimicry
but confirmation you passed the point of no return
and u happy hum
don’t think twice it’s alright
it is all on my cover photo
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
Warm colors in the sky,
The burnt amber reminded me of your eyes.
A beautiful prize,
That I can't summarize.
As my gaze curiously wanders to yours,
Caught those gemstones looking into mine enticed.
With our sights aligned,
The sun kisses the ocean its goodbyes.
As the serene waves serenades the sun,
Pulling our heartstrings on a run.
As the dusk,
Melted into the ocean blush.
There,
Your rosy cheeks.
Brighter than any sunset,
Melted mine into a smile.
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 2:33 PM UTC
I have an urge to write words that make the soul cry
Weep tears of enlightenment
To summarize my life in a paragraph
No more body criticism, snipping my spaghetti straps
Running in a stumbled line away from confinement
Forgetting the word comprise
Reality takes a stand reminding me, who will be the mediocre house wife
Instead of making a dramatic exit, I drink whiskey and the world has plenty
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 10:08 PM UTC
People took pictures of each other
Just to prove that they loved one another
Just to prove that they really existed
People take pictures of themselves
Just to prove that they’re happy with themselves
Just to prove that they’re really existing
So they filter their faults, like their Instagram photos
And they summarize all that is good in a sentence or two
And they practice their smiles as if it is worthwhile
To try to like life just to get a few likes
And the only thing that is left to be real
Are the things that are real and that people feel
They shouldn’t be sharing, thinking it’s scary
To actually share what they feel is too real
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
She seals the bag
full of melancholic songs-
The precious weapon in my
poetic arsenal,
And revives in me the desire
To sing a love song;
Should I write it
on her beauty,
Or on the virtues
she doesn’t count,
That her soul is truth a pious seeks,
Or something she is unacquainted
in her till now,
Or on the blushing cheeks,
Or parting lips,
Mystic eyes, or Sufi voice,
Or the nose-pin shining ablaze,
Or simply arrange the words
to summarize her sleeping face,
Should I write—
Stars fall to make her wish complete,
That sunflowers follow the direction
she moves,
That leaves loose bough
to have a close look, of her.
What should I write?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:39 PM UTC
mvp arena
s pearl st
albany, ny
8/30/22
*(to summarize how
we got to this point
i was in the
darkest year of my life
and in my pragmatism
self-inconsideration
i gave myself
an out
the only way i could
survive was to
tell myself it was
going to be over soon)*
i’m screaming
the words into
currents
of noise
i should be
happy
still hearing the ringing
in my ears and
seeing flashing lights
in my eyes
*(9/25/16
was the day
it was going
to end for me
concurrently
i discovered
a genre designed
for kids like me
spent hours
in full blown panic
not at the disco but
twitching on the floor
trying to drown it out
with fall out boy
nights that didn’t end until
dawn picking apart
twenty one pilots theories
in razor free showers
and then
my chemical romance
was back from the dead
10th anniversary album with
new tracks
coming 9/23/16)*
things have changed
i’ve changed
and yet still
traumatically
dramatically
the same
”what’s the worst that i could say?
things are better if i stay?
so long and good night
so long and good night”
*(and i realized
there was something
out there to
look forward to
maybe
just maybe
i make it through
just for now)*
”we’ll carry on
we’ll carry on”
i did
and i made it
all the way to here
found a way to
scrape myself through
every lonely night
but in that
moment the
crushing weight
of my own
insignificance
caught up to me
i should have been
happy
to have made it
to here
but the only thought
in my mind
was that
if i hadn't
made it to here
this moment
in this sea of
misfits and margins
in this sweaty stadium
four hours from home
**if i hadn't
carried on
nobody
would
have
noticed
my absence**
i'm reduced to
a face in the crowd
twenty dollar bills
in a merch line
a scream in a stranger's
snapchat story
**and the world doesn't
need me
one more person
to add to the chaos**
i should have cried
happy tears
but instead
i began to regret
what makes me
strong
what got me
to this point
would it be better
if i had ended it?
would it be easier?
does it even matter
either way?
because i'm
beginning to think
it really doesn't
and i know
i made it this far
i have his hand
around my back
and don't cry
alone at night anymore
but in the cosmic
scheme of significance
(which i want there
to be and i want
to be in)
i just don't
think
i don't
know
if it matters enough
what's the worst that i could say?
are things better if i stay?
"so shut your eyes
kiss me goodbye
and sleep
just sleep
the hardest part
is letting go of your dreams"
Sep 5, 2022
Sep 5, 2022 at 11:34 PM UTC
i'll summarize the painting
of my life with him in it.
it's a priceless work of art,
only love is the profit.
i raged crimson,
for the time you had to leave.
out of my stubborn anger,
the truth, i couldn't perceive.
i splashed shades of blue,
for the time i spent alone.
to feel so sad from everything,
melancholy was monochrome.
i planted green,
for the growing bitterness
of hating and loving you,
simultaneously like this.
i shined yellow
for the murderous thought
of the both of us,
turning brown, it rot.
i built up gray
for the concrete walls
of my cold, bare heart
every time you called.
then to black it faded,
everything was gone.
but white invaded
because light has come.
the pinks and purples,
suddenly arrived.
you finally came
yet somehow i have survived.
but for you to leave,
or if it's me to go,
let's stop each other.
for an unfinished painting
we wouldn't want to know.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
I cannot write.
I simply cannot.
Unless writing is merely the description of our own humanity.
In which case, I write very well
I summarize what makes myself
in a form of paper clip flat
and in the black smudges of light
on a hot laptop's screen
I make the pills you pop
when you feel the angst
and I make the black tar you shoot up
into your drowsy veins
I am the writer
I am the dealer
I am the pharmacist
I am a speaker of myself
and nothing less
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
This is not my home,
Blame narcissism; what I bring to the table is balance and I’m not alluding to table salt,
Credited Shiva when fables taught;
So why am I alone?
To the left are the people I left,
I can even summarize as past,
Their decisions were based off right removing rights,
This is an act of freedom;
Feeling obligated to honor a name,
The illusion is last,
As of right now,
I exist in between,
It’s during the experience, that I wonder…
Sooo, why am I alone?
When I lay eyes on a female, I want her to feel disrespected,
It’s important that a female is aware of her insecurities,
It’s important that she sees the disconnection, impurities, her own reflection,
Buddy want his hotdog wet; thought ejects*,
Natural selection,
Buddy want the Top Dog vest,
I’m baffled, I only guide a confession,
I’m eliciting the potential,
Pushing a resurrection,
Sharing; passing lessons,
Sparking questions,
My love you’re in the box, I want you to be free; Change of perception,
They fed you food for regressions and impressions,
Polarity rings; I’m attracted to the curves, the body’s expression,
That musty smell of oppression/depression,
How could you blame me for wanting to interfere,
I hate MEN; I’m calling progressive…
FLO here,
For lovers only,
Love is what I’ve been giving since birth, and I don’t expect a return,
People show hate; universe translation (twenty years later),
“Tough love”; discerned,
I laugh daily, that is the outcome of pain,
Me wearing colors was the outcome of being plain,
I made a choice; no longer was the same,
I can honestly relate to Jane,
Feminism is misconceived these days; point was a healthy balance of both carries no shame,
It’s unknown, separate from the game,
Adiyogi Shiva; Transcendental if omming the name…
I always wonder if I’m narcissistic; I love people unconditionally, there’s no reason why I should ever feel alone.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
Sweet liars and their sugar coated lies…
Root from their heart and branch out in the skies…
Their innocent souls and deceptive eyes…
Their polished shoes and branded ties…
In the beginning they seek your attention…
The next desire is your affection…
By recital of their past and rejection…
Either from them or from other direction…
“Don’t sympathies sweetheart, I am a strong man… Okay”…
“My heart comes free with this ring and bouquet”…
“Say yes, my love, we’ll plan a holiday”…
“Let’s go shopping for your lingerie”…
The candles are lit and the dinner is served…
The charm and chivalry is observed…
His scent and accent leaves you unnerved…
He is definitely the prince you thought you deserved…
Ah! And you fall in the trap and love as well…
Dreaming of him and his tempting propel…
You talk of him and his stories you tell…
Of the vamps he dated and your own love spell …
He has your trust and you are happy high…
His kisses and touch you can’t deny…
“He loves me so much” you amplify…
You light his nights like a firefly…
Now when you feel the bygones are supplanted…
The road gets a little slanted…
When you are more often taken for granted…
His fluctuations show the doldrums are planted…
You inspect the change and the causes aligned…
And come across the love texts enshrined…
You feel shattered and maligned…
The way you are portrayed and opined…
You demotion as ex is celebrated with a raised toast…
With his new flame and he playing host…
You embrace your strength with care utmost…
His vows and love , haunting you like ghosts…
You want to cry till you paralyze…
Blaming thyself for this jeopardize…
The arduous task to analyze, summarize and self sterilize…
From these sweet liars and their sugar coated lies…
~Kathaa Kirti
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC
Oh Atlantis where art thou?
Deep within the abyss, far beyond the maze of madness,
bewildered in the wilderness, hungry 40 days.
Hidden from thine eyes are journeys unexplored
where life begins within.
How do I summarize what lies within the mind of your mankind,
being of a kind, man in kind.
Concealed in the center of your mental’s universe,
dictating life’s travesties and endeavors.
Stories unfold, as the ages pass unfolding reality, unraveling the mystery
of the conscious deep inside.
For what hath thou experienced?
And what doth thou have to give?
Wisdom forever disputes thine intellects irregularities.
Forewarning us
of the days to come
embracing the adventures that lie ahead.
Trial dare not stop us
hinder us
or beget us.
We must fight through the mystery of your history
overcoming adversity and demise,
triumphantly striving.
Many uncharted paths lie ahead
therefore unlock your iron gates, which gives us vision.
Bid us to come in.
Release what the pulse knows true.
Breakaway from the pain that has you chained, hiding beneath,
aiding and abetting prophesy,
so that those beyond will see…
Oh Atlantis…Where art thou?
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
I have a code of ethics,
Everything that I am and ever will be,
All that I’ve learned and can’t be taught,
Things that I’ve flexed to fit in myself,
I want to fuse them together into a tapestry,
Useless metaphors.
It’s impossible to summarize it,
The whole of any being is too complex to fit,
That’s what’s terribly great,
To have too much to say and not say it,
Paradox.
I need and don’t want,
I help and don’t hurt,
I dream and don’t sleep,
I do everything and nothing,
Philosophy.
We’re good and bad,
It’s perfectly alright to have differences,
Don’t hurt others for them,
We have too much to gain from learning ourselves,
Acceptance.
Since this is a restricted poem I can’t continue and I wouldn’t want to,
Not because of the work, but of my code of ethics
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:21 PM UTC
If I may presume to summarize the concept,
"Eminent Domain,"
The Big P People own the Right of Way
And the little p people
Have temporary possession of the opportunity
To get out of the Way,
Or to be smashed under the wheels
Of Big P Progress.
Appropriate compensation will be paid,
Of Course,
And living spaces provided
To the little p people,
While the Big P People thunder by on their new highways,
Overpasses, airports, causeways, and thoroughfares.
Reclamation will be done over the torn earth
To re-bury the unearthed little p people's dead,
To restore damaged aquifers,
To "replace" trees and grasses "just as before,"
Never mind the pipelines,
The concrete roadways,
The railroads,
And the power lines....
Eminent Domain...
Rhymes with Capitalist Gain,
And little p people's pain....
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
They publicize Education with promise of security. Falsifying all your leizure and reward.
Yet,
While you drown your accounts with tallies and numeric rallies they develop the technology to summarize, tax, bill you with your debt and fill your mold in the position you strained and craved for.
Broken and stacked back rattling
You stand on a pile of panic and,
Manicly fade into the grave they plotted, and you dug.
Technology is our downfall.
We see the button and push it
Free of refrain.
Curious, instantaneous passionate trust in all the oncoming waves of silicone information.
The image is cast;,..
It attempts and so succeeds in including you in this performance
This, plastic
These fading lights.
Everything
Burns
Out
So it seems our nation is fueled by a finite flash.
With the filaments finally finkled out, the bright idea gone,
The shepard is shot and the sheep are frenzied.
As the population grows great in numbers alone, the engine is fixed with rusted parts and the plan...
A long, smooth drive with the emergency brake cranked the whole way.
We'll see just how far mediocre runs,
We'll see...
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, a lost poem<3
my pathetic desperacy
all epic with a naturalistic misery
angels hailed my numbers
now my calculations fumble
the rest
the equation unsettled on an aimless quest
everything has changed
but the undeserved trust is an ultimate unattained
my state in dooms
orbiting faces behind moons
a wreckage when asleep
like the neptunes called me
she said hit the lights
but the blinds blinded my sights
wonderful
a little optimism whisks me hopeful
forget forever the features
that lulled me once to my breather
now something broken
don't worry nothing stolen
for me to stick for me to piece neat
queen the rusted diamonds under my seat
follow the heart's revolution
undercover not a solution
alone even if disappointing
even when betraying
let my allusions surf the six temples
shadows bathing my past resembles
to come clean
find the place beyond the cold mean
like the twirl of the system
no one else wanted to resist him
took me there
to the middle of no where
my dilemma is that frightened half
no good to steal no good to laugh
but with a wake up to them dreams such a slap
a wisdom's muse would eventually snap
stars dance
her sky tortures her glance
crimson red and she realizes
that the once for all so be it would summarize this
would the potion grant a pain?
the poison of them affairs regard my chained name
let go
just say yes to saying no
stay awake
don't sleep take a break
------ravenfeels
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 5:46 PM UTC
I'd like to travel around the world with a ship.
My ideal morning, lot of light
a beautiful song and the first sip of coffee.
A word that would summarize the meaning of
life "the people".
Things that i miss a lot such the sea, the city's small port,
the whiff of that city.
I am afraid to forget those especially her.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
Imagine,
Imagine, heaven and earth,
Earth and hell.
Heaven?
It's up there.
Ionosphere, maybe.
Or maybe, Exosphere.
Think of Pangaea and Panthalassa.
Imagine, the lost world of Atlantis.
Geography students would know better.
Imagine,
Imagine good, and bad,
Bad, and worse.
Imagine, if your name were not,
What it is,
Imagine, if you were not,
What you are.
Imagine, delivering fantastic speeches,
Craft out, mesmerising poetries,
Look for topics,
Like you look for alloys,
In your wallet.
Everyone's a poet,
Poet, in their hearts,
They do write poems,
But the designer styli,
Defy to converge their thoughts.
Summarize life,
Felicity, will obviously be wrapped up,
And so will be your bad.
And try, and minimize your bad,
To the least,
Like you do with your savings,
On a rave.
And try, and amplify your bliss,
Like your cells multiply,
In every thirty minutes.
Imagine,
Imagine, and fall.
Fall, for every beautiful face,
Fall, for every beautiful day,
And moment.
Imagine,
And spread love.
Imagine,
Imagine, and fall,
Into an abyss,
Of thoughts,
Every single day,
Every single time.
Imagine,
The bald guy,
On our currency notes,
Smiling, at whatever number there is by him.
Smile, at whatever is given to you,
Smile, for whatever is given to you.
Smile,
And just that.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
How do we summarize our lives? If we were given the choice of one word to describe the life of each person, what would yours be?
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 10:12 AM UTC
This is the last poem I'll ever write as a 19 year old
I don't know if I should summarize the years I have spent
Or talk about the future and what lies ahead.
It's not easy to write anymore.
Words, they just keep slipping
like the string of a helium balloon
that I always jumped to hold, as a kid
but it would always fly away
just after touching the tips of my fingers
making me realize that I was almost there.
Almost.
Almost but never really there.
And I'd look at the balloon flying away
slowly turning into a dot
before forever being a part of the sky
And I'd wonder. I'd always wonder if I could just
let go of my strings one day
and fly away....
Would I be able to escape this place?
Would I be able to reunite with the balloon someday?
But little did I know that
letting go wasn't so easy.
It was much more than opening your fingers
and letting it fly away with the wind.
The strings which held me down were
wrapped around my finger tightly
you know, like we used to tie a rubber band
around our fingers just to stop the blood
from flowing in our veins and making our skin red.
It was just like that.
And letting the strings go meant
letting them cut through my skin
and leave marks
as a reminder that I once held onto something
or someone
too strongly between my fingers (and in my heart).
So I sit here now as I remember it all in my head
trying to decide what to share with my pen.
Not sure if this time would matter or not
as I whisper under my breath,
"Almost there, almost"
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 10:26 AM UTC
I haven't slept for two days now. The nights pass by slowly as I am in deep thought, my grandmother’s radio plays at full volume in the other room, and my parents and uncle talk loudly into the ears of their loved ones an ocean away.
I hear my father tell his brother to search for his son among the bodies of the dead, I hear my mother asking for the latest news and picture her standing there holding her breathe as she listens to the tired frantic voice of the person on the other end of the line, and I play the scene over and over again where my grandmother walks slowly into my room, with a back, hunched because of years of hard labor. She stares at me with a wrinkled face and a look in her eyes that I recall seeing only a few times but only when she speaks of her past, during the rough times.
She asks me if I know what's going on, and I tell her yes. Then she begins to summarize anyways, speaking in a lowered voice so that is just above a whisper enunciating each word clearly and I understand despite the usual misunderstandings between me and her, I nod my head, and release noises known worldwide to reassure someone who is speaking that the audience is listening.
And as her words become separated by seconds that tell stories in themselves, and that look in her eyes, she says in a grave voice and in a language that seems so familiar yet foreign, “chi we dak, chi we dak” then she turns around and walks out of the room in the same fashion in which she came in.
I ponder her words as I sit there.
“The world has broken, the world has broken.”
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
The immediate introversion,
A safe solitude.
Alone and alive.
Lacking loneliness,
At this disturbing depth,
Unlike the saliently superficial.
The calming confusion
Relaxes and reassures.
Defiantly deliberate,
And thoroughly thoughtful.
Marvelously mesmerized
By my continuous contemplation.
Overtly observant,
And insightfully introspective.
Fiercely focused
On building and bettering.
I meticulously memorialize,
And succinctly summarize,
My lavish love,
For being
Alone and alive.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
Light shines off rivers flowing through,
every space I had
That was filled with you
Soft and simple crys make a stain,
Or find a dream.
If I was the one, maybe I could know the game
And the silence boils while the night is on fire.
I patiently wait like a bird on a wire.
our dreams are made of fear while sleep surrounds us.
Tunnels changing lanes
Summarize a kid’s pain inside a school bus.
Summer fall, October ends,
Shadows, odds and ends,
Winter won't pretend.
I know I'll see all again
The wind blows you over me,
Catching teardrops in the leaves.
still every night I feel you breathe.
And the tension boils like sailors close to home,
Time is black, but you’ll want to be alone.
Fate does tempt itself a game of cat and mouse,
It soon will find us.
And anything we need,
God knows the devil could precede
In denying us.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC