"tested" poems
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a ****** mole, but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
A wild flight into drizzled dark night
The chorus line thumping
Overcome by roar and strain
Of metal tested to limits as we race
An endless risk disregarded as thought
And the sound of a bright giggle
Wondrous eyes lit in thrill of threat
Fear has no place in this setting
A manic gleam and set to her face
Sharing a secret as we laugh and howl
Because this is who we are
For all out control and desire
We scream endlessly through life eternally silent
Until we do not have to be
And in glory we release!
Fear is a thing to be learnt
A feeling to ******* and freeze
Is it felt here?
A resounding no! Shatters the question
In the screech of tires
In the surge of adrenaline
In the wild savage smile of freedom
Of a shout into the night in defiance of order!
Does my heart race as we tear around?
Not even a tremor! Until I turn,
My face from the moaning wind rushing past
And i gaze upon this savage exposed
Lips pulled back in ferocious glee
A focused and fierce glare to the world
We deny life and taunt the spectre
Come to us, we cry!
The paths are slick with tears of the gods
The roads tempestuous writhing in deceit
I sit in peace, relaxed
A warrior companion at my side
We know no fear of what may come
For trust
Ah trust
Is the colour of life
Ever shadowed as a challenge to endings!
She lights as a fire of the brightest stars
And i would embrace her
Burning endlessly.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
"This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did ******
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant ****** drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.
She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.
In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn't she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending."
-Marge Piercy
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
Many believe they know the law
Because they were arrested;
Others know how to teach
Because they too were tested.
If you have a religious question,
They attended church;
Mention you've an ache or pain,
They diagnose your hurt.
Should you bring up politics,
Republican or worse,
They'll explain Democracy
Cause they've been free since birth.
Admit your car is pinging,
Your faucets aren't behaving,
The oven isn't cooking right,
Your fridge is warm and shaking,
The air conditioner's out of whack,
Your furnace has turned blue,
They'll tell you what to do:
Change the thermo-coupler.
It's always their one answer.
Say you like this stock or bond,
An investment that's appealing,
They'll discourse that all agents
Are cunning conniving stealing.
On Monday mention the big game,
They'll re-play, play by play,
As if you slept right through it.
If you hear a rousing band,
Attend a movie or a play,
Know-its are informed critics,
Once they were stagehands.
They pose as friends and family,
Waiting for an opening,
To disrupt with diatribe,
To display how much they know.
I know what I'm on about,
So let me advise you,
I'm a Know-It-All poet,
All I write is true.
So,
*Never miss the opportunity
To keep your mouth shut too*.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
Don't discriminate
Just don't do it
All it is, is hate
Hate is made out of other hate
and hate only fuels more hatred
You pour gasoline on a blaze of loathing
with every discriminatory comment you make
It doesn't matter
if they have done something you believe is wrong
because you have done many things that are wrong too
it is not for you to judge
so black white brown both or polka dotted for all I care
gay les straight bi or into adhesive sloths (we adhesified furry little sloths need a little love too)
man or woman or sloth
punk emo crazy nerdy weird loser REALLY weird bookworm or literal worm sloth or adhesive sloths (like me)
nature freak or homebody
axe murderer or a cereal killer or a cheerio killer
it does not matter who or what they are
they are all human too. or all sloths. that too.
Just don't discriminate
and share the slothified love of adhesiveness
accept everyone as they are
even if they hang from trees and move in slow motion all day like me
even if they are rocks
because rocks are great
in fact this one time, I found this rock and man, it was absolutely hilarious it should have been a stand up comedian
okay well not a STAND UP comedian, because I mean... rocks can't actually stand up... but like a really hard and Sedimentary roundish stone shaped sit down (well more like lay around like a rock all day) comedian
Wait, what was I talking about?
oh right, don't discriminate!! :)
against other humans or other sloths.
or adhesive sloths.
...I'm not crazy! my mother sloth had me tested!
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
Bitter blessed
Better tested
Knowledge burns
Hollow inside
Welcome home
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 6:07 PM UTC
Coming from unknown shores, arrived these Western boats,
with disastrous as well as deceitful tactics they took our gold,
jump to the modern era, they are the ones' promoting ***
they bare minimum death rates due to *** and Aids,
while African's lives in bitter ruins as the notion of "safe *** seems perplex.
*** promotion misconstrued as our kids continue ****** the old,
Such consequences were never told,
when they sold us back our own gold.
Systematical control is now the definer of societies
Africans not taught of Qamatha but tested on Socrates,
African souls enticed into materialism by paper and cheese,
while Western supremacists economically ****** African Identities.
African child, fight back please!
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
A catalyst is a chemical that speeds up reactions.
At least that’s what I learned in chemistry class.
Catalysts sometimes are the major factors in a reactions and without them,
The reaction could never happen.
Catalyst can be lab chemicals,
alcohol,
drugs,
coffee even,
or a person.
While lounging around one afternoon you were talking physics
And I turned it on your head and spoke of chemistry,
Knowing full well that I was speaking of our personal chemistries.
You were right, the physics of a relationship gives us the laws,
But CHEMISTRY can predict the outcome.
If you do the math and follow the directions,
you can determine the product without even doing the experiment.
Unless the reaction you are creating has never been attempted before by the scientists preforming the experiment.
They can flip through the books,
Read the essays,
Study the theorems,
Even attempt the calculations,
But if they don’t do the actual experiment,
They will never find their outcome.
Some things need a push,
A catalyst,
For them to form a bond,
React,
And combine into a stable combination.
Hypotheses must be TESTED, ACCEPTED, and RATIFIED
Before becoming a law.
No matter how based in logic your hypothesis might be,
You need the universe and its fundamental laws to back it up.
There are still surprises left in the universe.
Maybe you and I can be one of them.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
I'm tested everyday,
Tempted to throw away
The sanity that's kept my mind at bay
If inconveniences are shadows,
then troubles are ink-blotted water
trickling through the canals of my temporal lobes
which causes me to follow
any thoughts of failure instead of success
better to wallow in bed then get dressed
I almost forget that I am blessed.
I aggress the trickling pain
by staring skyward
like a man seeking the opportunity
to fly
soaring above the problems that cloud the eyes
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
From the BBC today,
Excerpt
Why does Taylor Swift write so many one-note melodies?
"It's easy to get distracted by her celebrity, but Taylor Swift is a once-in-a-generation songwriter. From the very beginning, she's displayed a knack for melody and storytelling that most artists never master.
Take, for example, her first US number one, OUR SONG
Written for a high school talent show, it's a fairly typical tale of teenage romance until the final lines: "I grabbed a pen / And an old napkin / And I wrote down our song."
That's smart, self-assured songwriting for someone who wasn't old enough to vote. Notably, the lyrics insert the musician directly into the narrative - something she developed into a tried and tested trope.
But Our Song also establishes another of Taylor's trademarks: The one-note melody.
Excerpt
Repetitive melodies that centre around a single note are part of that appeal. They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech.
"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."
"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."
"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."
Rebuttal
Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics. They can relate to your song but if they cannot sing it themselves putting themselves in the 'first-person perspective narrative' they cannot feel as-if they have BECOME the artist and are living that moment as they remember it. Taylor Swift sings about teenage love and angst something EVERYONE ON EARTH understands.
ALL POETRY BEGAN AS RHYME IN SONG.
Cadences are singing statements that confer a discipline and unity.
Song acts as a catharsis. The artist shares their pain in a way that is universally understood. If you want to sell a rock, literally a pebble, you will not sell it if it doesn't look like a rock. If it doesn't do what rocks do. If it is not what people remember a rock to be like. Nor will it sell if it is just like every other rock they have ever seen. It cannot convey an emotion unless it elicits emotion.
One cannot even begin to feel emotional if one cannot remember easily the past and that includes lyrics one has heard that evoked said emotional state.
It is horrifying to see HOW BADLY EVERYONE INSISTS that rhyme be obliterated in exchange for an intellectual or individual perspective NOT SHARED BY THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE.
If you want to sell and make money you better start thinking about the 99% of people who are not geniuses.
If your sole goal in life is to attract a genius to give you a great job because of how, "smart," they perceive you to be then fine.
You are not an artist.
You are an employee.
"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."
"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."
"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."
Thrice Times Great. ⁻ᴴᵉʳᵐᵉˢ
BECOME
EVERYONE ON EARTH
ALL POETRY BEGAN AS RHYME IN SONG
HOW BADLY EVERYONE INSISTS
NOT SHARED BY THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE
HOW BAD
artist?
or employee?
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
*Sunrise towards my mental reflection;
Contemplating where my journey is directed.
Lying in the sweat of broken slumber;
The days are short and unevenly numbered.
Living in the darkness; dying in the light.
Silenced in the morning; tormented in the night.
Tested by devils and beaten by saints;
Waiting for the promise of mercy and grace.*
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
your softly breathing sleep
allows me to muse on times of love
of how you care to devise for me
such pleasures that I know not of
with softly tested link of chain
that holds me to your loving bed
to know that you are there to
shield me with your tender bonds
before slumber claims my eyes
I want to feel your hand in mine
That I may know that you
Lie close by for all our night.
I need to feel the tight confine
Of my captive self that lies within
full knowing that I am
your slave at every sunrise wake
to do your bidding here by morn
and seek your use of me in ways
that have not yet seen light of day
so you shall know me as your own
but dare I risk your wrath by want
of something in this darkest hour,
and think of all you did to me
that brought me to my frenzy here?
my fingers stray and find such wet
as you in passion full create
with desire for you now so intense
that I cannot but divide myself
and guide with care your sleeping hand
where I can ride it in my thrall
and pillow-stifle screams of need
at thoughts of being used again
your touch though sleeping forces me
into that driving ecstasy
that has become my life with you
with no other than this torment wild
that makes me use myself like this
shameless as your wanton *****
needing all you do to me
in ways that you need me to be
....Francesca Anderssen 2016
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses (Amazon)
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 6:12 PM UTC
Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
I lie my head there on your chest
and find my absolute favorite place to rest.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
And I've been tested many times over in my quest for peace, but I never would have guessed I'd find it so quickly with you.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
Your heartbeat is the rhythm of my universe.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
we are monsters
from the boutique to the
embroidered throw pillows the
pen dashed around the neck
stage 5 bone cut
sawing ossification to the
hollow core
we are monsters
hooting in tunnels lined
with bats coming out to feast
creation
to scrape the streets
shimmy the walls
bust the coffin and
succckk
we are monsters
who can't enter under the
doorframe
fearful of being burned by
the sun silver stake
rat poison holy water sickle
and windmill ash
we are monsters
sewed stapled dead meat
skin hair plugs ceramic
teeth tested and tasted by
rats
we are monsters
jumping high over white
fences frenzied explosion
running through corn
angrily bled in a field shot and
hunted like embarrassing
waterfowl in the jaws of
mammalia
we are monsters
of flaming brilliance flashing
in your inbox
read us and gnaw
braised
roasted
grilled limbs
watch
as we watch you
be scared and
stab
I promise we don't die.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
I love a good debate,
[science mixed with illusion]
and this year was no exception:
the debate on the best shapes for a kite
from design implementation, inception and execution
some sturdy string and industrial-strength glue
the machinations of whether to use plywood or bamboo
and of course built by your own fair hand
such was the intensity of discussion it continued
with an after-lunch stroll on the beach, where the uncles
drew their prize-winning geometry
with a primitive stick
in the sand
a question on the mathematics of aerodynamics aside
its currently a battle of the cyclic quadrilaterals
and documented film of it successfully tested and tried;
years of perfection honed by the skills of Fatherhood
to know instinctively the difference
between the brilliance of genius
and the borderline
just plain good
If nothing else has come from this
I now
know
[so as not to lose]
K = p/q over 2
or
K = ab – sin Ø
[are the formulas to use]
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 3:56 PM UTC
Ruddy's was the place to be on Wednesday nights, cheap drinks, free hotdogs and the graceful presence of Times Square hookers late at night, what a wonderful scene, marines hookers and the best jazz juke box inn manhattan, rowdy and something almost always happened, better than life. I was a young man in a strange country, had my fists tested in FLA and Brooklyn for stupid prejudices on my behalf and others, words hurt only those who do not know their meaning and root. There was a black man sitting next to me, quiet and still, a true barfly, he turned and said;
- you are not from round here-
- no - I said -I am from Mexico -
- you don't look Mexican, but let's go with it, I don't look African American either-
- r you from the south?-
-Georgia, as they call it -
-well, I've worked in FLA and met some rednecks, Cubans, blacks, but almost no Chinese-
-you mean yellow-
-or *******
- or **** you know men, I prefer racism down south, over there the distinction is cut loose clear, we don't like each other, but here, men I tell you, you wannanother beer?-
-sure men-
-Girls just wanna **** you cause I'm black, you know, to be cool and ****
-yeah, Jewish girls wanna **** white Gentiles, different reasons same goal-
-I hear you, here it's all about being fashionable, but deep in the pit it's all fake as a 10 dollar coin-
We kept at it until Beth started a fight with another ****** they were calling each other **** I've never heard.
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Is it a bird?
Or is it a plane?
It's… It's… It's…
It's no limit to your dreams,
What you so desire to aspire to be,
All you must do as hard as it seems
Is believe that you can succeed;
Others may try to hinder you stride,
Some will so much as doubt you indeed,
But you cannot surrender to kryptonite,
Because I see the superwoman you are to me.
Dignified, poised, strong,
A superwoman you are to see;
Confident, able, young,
The superwoman you are to me;
What a superwoman, to the rescue
Even for villains whose ridicules tested you,
They cannot outwit the superwoman..
You are to me.
You have been mistreated,
By slander, blackmail, and betrayal;
Somehow you still stand undefeated,
No one has seized you to fail;
You are a heroine, a matriarch
A woman of admiration in any degree;
Willing to give and help from your heart,
And that's the superwoman you are to me.
Dignified, poised, strong,
A superwoman you are to see;
Confident, able, young,
The superwoman you are to me;
What a superwoman, to the rescue
Even for villains whose ridicules tested you,
They cannot outwit the superwoman..
You are to me.
It's Superwoman!!!
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
one is slightly bound
a congestion of sorts
nothing is evacuating
from a certain passage
the
act
that
is
done
on
the
toilet
seat
proves to be hard
sufficient amounts of roughage
have not passed
through one's entrails
one cannot excrete
all
possible
treatments
have
been
tested
by one
yet
the
binding
cannot
be
undone
hence the number two
sits unmoved
in one's tail
a feed of grains and fruit
in the morn
shall clear the obstruction
before dusk
to
have
a
poo
poo
is
all
one
wishes
to
do
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
I am an astronaut
Not because I trained for years
In high-tech NASA facilities
Not because I'm a peak physical specimen
Endurance tested
Intelligence too
I am an astronaut
And its a reason as simple as this
I made someone my world
And then she left me
I am an astronaut
And right now I'm drifting through space
I can see the stars
I just can't reach them
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 2:47 AM UTC
My name is *** and I have no friend, I infect unborn during labor and infents during breastfeeding ,teenage s during unprotected sex,adults with multiple partners, I don't choose colours.
I infect whites,blacks,coloured and Indian,people call me names,like 3 series, magama mathathu,koloi ya eliya,go slowly and I have no problem because I have one friend which is death,you fail to use my enermy condom,my friend will attack you.
please young generation upstain for I have no mercy,adults be faithful because I will pass like a chameleon and once I reach you,you will point your finger to witches and while doing that,you will be on the grave unknown.
get tested and stay loyal,me hlv my high point is ***** or viginal fluid so be careful little mistake I will get there and hide there till I end all off your immune system or in an easy way your white blood cells.
to win me is to condomise,be faithful, abstain or do it your self that's musterbation, wear gloves when helping any one because you may never know where I am hiding.
if you already have me talk to your health professionals ,if not I will finish you without knowledge, because I am a bio slim and I am in love with your blood.
to win me test before is too late because I will take you into your bed as you took that partner of yours and to me is gonna be hard to be awake.
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
Remember, that chaos first was a primordial deity,
Chaos; the nothingness from which all else sprang
headfirst and heartfelt,
half-naked and handsome,
hook, line and... halibut.
All of this,
every measurable moment,
every particle,
every object set forth in motion
sprang from a void so harmoniously
as if the absence of everything was kissed
sudden
by the presence of something.
Often depicted with wings, a bow, and a quiver of arrows,
Cupid, son of Venus - goddess of love,
son of Mercury - god of trade,
his story,
almost identical in Greek and in Roman
mythology,
his story, about a couple of gods
who seem so inherently human by nature,
jolted by jealousy,
dumbstruck by beauty,
hellbent on immortality,
his story has been hallmarked
as red hot velvet rose petal fine wine
and symmetrical hearts.
Wrapped in tin foil red ribbons
bitter-sweetly sugarcoated
dipped in thin layer of chocolate
taste-tested and lover approved.
Remember that scene in Hook
where Tinkerbell leaves her footprints on Peter's chest,
well that's you and that's me--
touch me where my heart beats
because I don't ever wanna be a lost boy.
I wanna grow up like a good bedtime story
with morals
and purpose,
I wanna have meaning.
You might say that Cupid found himself.
You might say that Psyche found her soul.
You might say that Tinkerbell was just faking it--
with the clapping.
Truth is, we can never know the whole story--
the complete truth.
Problem is, we think we can
and act like we do.
So the only time we mean what we say
is the first time we say it,
every utterance thereafter is just an attempt
at recreating a moment.
I love you
is a paraphrase
that deserves three separate ellipses
because there's a lot left unsaid.
I (distinctively remember shadow-boxing with)
love (against a star-dotted sky anchored to a
moonlight so vibrant it can only be compared to)
you (and your tidal waves).
And that's where I fell
headfirst and handsome.
I (was punched-drunk by a kiss so breathless
that it spiked my dopamine to a volume
that can only be described as) love
(in that every time my neurotransmitters feel) you
(they spin themselves dizzy and dance to your science).
There was a moment in the absence of everything
when I was kissed silent by the presence of something.
Hold me to your breastplate.
I don't ever wanna go back to the void.
02/09/2010
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
a knight in shining armor is a man who has never had his metal truly tested.
I start off with a quote, that adds spice to the fish in the boat, who say that their knights in shining armor have fought, hard enough for the ladies who've put in thought, that the man that comes to sweep them of they feet is fit with an armor so glamorous that it shines all the time.
but then maybe they mean it shines with greatness, power and courage,,
shines bright enough for acceptance in her hand in marriage.
but no.
we all know a girl's best friend is a diamond,and according to girls these days nothing shines brighter.
a man with a dented armor is a man who has fought and fought well to survive the opponents in combat from depriving his life from him.
so, this man with a dented armor has been through hard Times,
he gained and lost friends l,had his heart broken again and again he might not look too good but his heart shines,
his love is sublime, for he has learned to love without hesitation,
to love with values and skips the division to think about the multiplication,
you can't get to one without the other but you know what I mean.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
A country lane, which eats animals, earrings and experiences,
winds in spools around the oat-house and follows the broken wall.
My sister’s bottle green jeep made waves along the hedges,
she shook out her hairband and the conversations of the evening.
An owl asks on all sides, and would seem to answer himself as
the field barracuda, the vast wide eye for the minnow-mouse.
She put a pearl in the bushes, dangling spit-like,
an orb, a moon-berry, full and dead forever.
She drove faster, as the english night slowed down,
down by the where the willow covers the road sign.
She killed a badger,
as if they had both lost something here.
Sun-cooked,
crisp at the curling edges
he’s a dark patch, like a fixed pothole.
his bones tested her michelins in the morning
again, glassy eyed, stillened,
retroflective and blind to the shimmering shadow of flies
rising up through his skin like a spirit.
But both her ears are full.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
Rejection
There is a tightness in my chest,
because repeatedly I've been put to the same test.
Torturing me over and over again,
I'm longing now for emissary vein.
How much longer should I maintain optimism,
it just wants to carry on to pessimism.
It's a wound that won't stop bleeding,
but still showing gratitude and I'm still breathing,
for how longer should I except defeating.
I've been tested to love, but she won't love me back.
I've been tested to be shoved,
but thereafter I can't remain in place for walking upright on that track.
I've been tested counting down the list of all Woman whose affection
was unreturned.
But this list is yet far from having a cut to be undeterred.
Thereof I'm asking myself again"
Does true love really exist ?
Today I still would say yes, cause I've been able norishing my list.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
**Dear feet,
Bring me to places where my heart will be tried; my mind be blown; my faith be tested; my reason be questioned.
I want my life to be a worthwhile walk. That after all the devastations you brought me in. And the cuts you got where the blood spilled.
I could write on this uneasy ground,
"I have had a hard one, but at least, I fought to live and was not defeated."
Yours,**
-qyf
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC