"thermo" poems
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
Je t' aime kamma
I long for thine sutra,
throbbing Hilton põg.
King of Prussia PA.
O the first time thine
many face moon playing hide and seek showered us with moonlight just to hear us sigh and sigh till song and dance lended our feet shoeless Pon our crib of fragrant blooms tracing on each others back
mo grá Angel
I'm yours, be mine.
aingeal Is mise mise
Te amo.
Thermo King
Westing house
Je t'aime, Je t'aime
mera bano main
tumhaara hoon.
~
By: Karijinbba
74-95 -6-21
Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 4:46 PM UTC
she posted a note
I wrote this for a Irioc vet's wife it wasn't what she said this was my interputation when she said you don't know me you only know what I let you know to me it was a person hurting trying to be tough
Telling
The telling by night and day she stands in the dark glen her
Thoughts and troubles make the surroundings turn from airy to thermo brooding dark and mastic a
Black stallion stands near with its hostile significance obvious as a nightmare colt now full grown it paws
The ground deep and wildly like her own thoughts the night changes from different shades of black as
She reels in the tumult that varied troubles bring the wind begins to rise the branches begin a violent
Torrent of complaint great torment is displayed outward calm belies the war within how quickly time
Changes things long ago in another time and place blue and white clouds could be seen through the
Blazing foliage an aura highlighted splendor tinged all elements that were in conscious view the black
Stallion was replaced by the grey gentle even the face gave wonderful expressive peacefulness its stance
Was as if it gave an outline to mellow you could see her standing as in an arching trellised gate blossoms
Now gently blow where before only thorns gleamed as lighting flashed and you could see in her eyes a
Wounded soul that had to bear up under sudden hardship not the kind you grow into but that which
You Are thrown into you have to leap to your feet and try to convince all onlookers you have control
While actually you are just a little terrified girl that must make great strides to become a woman of
Empowered senses the war front defenses are made now in the living room not in far away scarred
Lands soldiers are trained women are the soft spirits that must learn to make armor from brokenness
That is well fitted and enduring while she is the lone sentential in an emotional fragmented world you
Will find love is the greatest weapon in this hidden world where illusion of peace mocks openly but
Freedom is the stronghold of those that love peace and fair play for all.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
This was written for a young woman who posted she was having trouble being what she should be for her soldier husband who returned from Iraq.
Telling
The telling by night and day she stands in the dark glen her
Thoughts and troubles make the surroundings turn from airy to thermo brooding dark and mastic a
Black stallion stands near with its hostile significance obvious as a nightmare colt now full grown it paws
The ground deep and wildly like her own thoughts the night changes from different shades of black as
She reels in the tumult that varied troubles bring the wind begins to rise the branches begin a violent
Torrent of complaint great torment is displayed outward calm belies the war with in how quickly time
Changes things long ago in another time and place blue and white clouds could be seen through the
Blazing foliage an aura highlighted splendor tinged all elements that were in conscious view the black
Stallion was replaced by the grey gentle even the face gave wonderful expressive peacefulness its stance
Was as if it gave an outline to mellow you could see her standing as in an arching trellised gate blossoms
Now gently blow where before only thorns gleamed as lighting flashed and you could see in her eyes a
Wounded soul that had to bear up under sudden hardship not the kind you grow into but that which
You Are thrown into you have to leap to your feet and try to convince all onlookers you have control
While actually you are just a little terrified girl that must make great strides to become a woman of
Empowered senses the war front defenses are made now in the living room not in far away scarred
Lands soldiers are trained women are the soft spirits that must learn to make armor from brokenness
That is well fitted and enduring while she is the lone sentential in an emotional fragmented world you
Will find love is the greatest weapon in this hidden world where illusion of peace mocks openly but
Freedom is the stronghold of those that love peace and fair play for all.
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 10:46 AM UTC
The telling by night and day she stands in the dark glen her
Thoughts and troubles make the surroundings turn from airy to thermo brooding dark and mastic a
Black stallion stands near with its hostile significance obvious as a nightmare colt now full grown it paws
The ground deep and wildly like her own thoughts the night changes from different shades of black as
She reels in the tumult that varied troubles bring the wind begins to rise the branches begin a violent
Torrent of complaint great torment is displayed outward calm belies the war with in how quickly time
Changes things long ago in another time and place blue and white clouds could be seen through the
Blazing foliage an aura highlighted splendor tinged all elements that were in conscious view the black
Stallion was replaced by the grey gentle even the face gave wonderful expressive peacefulness its stance
Was as if it gave an outline to mellow you could see her standing as in an arching trellised gate blossoms
Now gently blow where before only thorns gleamed as lighting flashed and you could see in her eyes a
Wounded soul that had to bear up under sudden hardship not the kind you grow into but that which
You Are thrown into you have to leap to your feet and try to convince all onlookers you have control
While actually you are just a little terrified girl that must make great strides to become a woman of
Empowered senses the war front defenses are made now in the living room not in far away scarred
Lands soldiers are trained women are the soft spirits that must learn to make armor from brokenness
That is well fitted and enduring while she is the lone sentential in an emotional fragmented world you
Will find love is the greatest weapon in this hidden world where illusion of peace mocks openly but
Freedom is the stronghold of those that love peace and fair play for all.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC
(10/01/11)
All that she knew was that it was a snowy day
And she was in a horse pulled sleigh
The blanket was covering her
From her knees to her feet.
The thermo of hot chocolate was such a treat.
The frozen lake, the snow covered trees
Was truly a sight to be seen.
the birds high up in the trees
Whistling so cheerfully
Singing songs of summers past
And how the winter came so fast.
The ground hog not wanting to come out
He knew well what winter was about.
The ground was covered in a blanket of white
All roads and paths were out of sight.
That did not stop this horse pulled sleigh
He had gone thru this many a day.
He had a covered barn that awaited him
That was the reason he had a grin.
The animals were frantically searching for food
The possums, the raccoons, the rabbits
And The squirrels too.
With one purpose in mind
And that was to stay alive.
As she got to where they were gathered
She pulled out from under her blanket
A five pound bag of peanuts and seed
for her to feed - these poor
Little creatures who always came around
When there was no food to be found.
She was the snow white of this land
Always there to give a hand.
So when you see a squirrel stop and stand
on its hind legs, it’s to see if it is their snow white
Who helped them on this cold winter night.
Oct 1, 2011
Oct 1, 2011 at 10:57 PM UTC
from the sea, a mighty beast arises,
with eyes for un-civilized destruction.
thermo-nuclear powered surprises,
raining pain and death's dark function.
across the land, godzilla rages on,
deaf to the screams of those trampled below.
mortal man does weep that their age is gone,
their buildings burn with ample glow.
from the sky, mortal man's jets fly and scream
as bursts of flame cut throw them like butter.
all that mortal man has become and dreams
is charred and laying in the gutter.
so, as the old man weeps his end grown near,
the young man rushes to the streets with cheer.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 11:10 AM UTC
Autumn, you do something to me.
You lighten up my heart and fill me with melancholy all the same.
You bring out my inner-romantic, and also remind me of my being alone.
Yet, you're my favourite. Always have been, and will always be.
If I could be a season, I'd only hope to be as lovely as you.
Let's take a midnight train ride to some place I haven't been to yet,
somewhere far away from here. Just you and I,
and a thermo filled with warm tea, a woven blanket,
a book of collected poetry, a few blank notepads
and the stillness of forgotten summer memories.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
Like a moth to a flame
You reduced me to ash,
Singed these already broken wings,
And at my wounds your flames did lash
I was captivated by your danger
Senseless from your beauty
I only wanted to touch and feel
And so your inferno left my heart sooty
Enticed by your primal heat
I was seduced by the warmth of you
And so I was scorched in defeat
As my wants took over my needs
Ready to burn down whatever crossed your path
You were a raging inferno
I a single moth defenseless in your wrath
Drawn to you by your impassioned thermo
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Like a moth to a flame
You reduced me to ash,
Singed these already broken wings,
And at my wounds your flames did lash
I was captivated by your danger
Senseless from your beauty
I only wanted to touch and feel
And so your inferno left my heart sooty
Enticed by your primal heat
I was seduced by the warmth of you
And so I was scorched in defeat
As my wants took over my needs
Ready to burn down whatever crossed your path
You were a raging inferno
I a single moth defenseless in your wrath
Drawn to you by your impassioned thermo
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC
Reaching towards the sky,
On my knees, my palms begin to bleed
As well as my feet
A stigmata instigated by my self destructive tendencies
But just what does that insinuate?
Am I another sick starved madman with a twisted messiah complex?
Will I end up stark & raving, naked on the Cincinnati streets screaming obscenities & salvation?
Is that the worst that could happen?
Is this the worst case scenario on the other end of my linear destiny?
But no, this destiny is not linear
It's thermo-fucking-nuclear
Manhattan-like, I shall disassemble and reassemble at will
My revolution is ALIVE
A revolution of fire & chemicals swirls madly around my subconscious
I'm no pragmatic protagonist from any perspective
I'm a son of a *****
A modern day strung out anti-hero
Spray painting realistic ***** on the walls of reality
Reaching for the sky
To **** the ******* sun
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Bored.
of thermo-regulation.
of light waves and rays.
of the idiots around me (capable of being smart).
bored.
of centring my head at a board.
bored of chemistry and why.
transfixed my head; transfixed my eye.
the corner of the other
transfixed on the haze:
the girl, to me, denied.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
Time spirals like a stairwell through an infinite
Space where the beginning and end are never understood.
In the gravitational enigma of atoms and particles colliding
in perfect symmetry against a backdrop of forces
that we attribute to God and his Mind over matter.
This is, for ‘something’ greater than god himself,
gave Him
the power to possess such awesome precision
that we still do not comprehend. Never.
Try as we might. Who or what then
exerted so much energy to create a man
comprised of infinite possibilities, deviations
and standards in a controlled mind
to surpass all of creation?
And and and
attempt to understand its inner workings
from every angular dimension
yet never give up until he has found
the microscope pin-hole in the universe through which
he can see the face of the creator himself!
Is this a way
to tease this simple mans
understanding of his immense power?
The Body is the temple of God
No doubt about it. You were born
in a thermo dynamic quantum furnace embedded
in the very pulse that the Creator distributed
through another Creator
Another Creator, Another Creator
etc etc.
Accept it on your knees.
Author Notes
Exploring an afterthought. Infinity is the Creator himself.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
I gave up on attending church,
giving myself leeway to roll left, stretch right,
swaddled in the devoted and over emotional covers - of the white.
I greeted the sun
when it deserved it
and I was ready for it’s rays of fuzzy gold.
I felt alive and welcomed,
being encompassed in it’s rays that clung to me.
And I clung back,
feeling healed by the power that can also destroy.
I was in love with it.
It kissed me.
The kiss of life and death.
Like you do,
soft, slow,
once.
Once.
I want it. I crave it.
I had already found myself longing for your lips
even before the indents on my skin from the heavy bracelets I wore all night could vanish from recirculation.
My leg’s - hands crept from thermo tile to thermo tile,
avoiding cracks- for the life of me.
Those tiles,
slick, hard, unforgiving, and rugged
that’s how I felt-
when I left your driveway that I knew I was supposed to stop and jump out of
and run back to your arms in.
But I didn’t.
Why didn’t I?
The air I’m now breathing alone was toxic,
I’m choking.
But why?
Why can’t we inhale
and build an immunity?
Like real people do.
Loving you is like
loving the sun that’s killing me but always there,
providing warmth I lust after and get burned from as my skin shrieks,
bringing vibrance to my life of white.
Every kiss is damaging and lethal over time
yet the radiation is addictive.
Hold on.
Please.
Don’t let the lambent flames we were adjacent to while studying supernovas-
stampede the stability you felt
when white sheet days turned purple,
and cantaloupe squares reflected orange from the moon,
that was still being reflected from the sun,
that’s always there.
Always.
Don’t take lightly the rest you had
against me on a long ride home-
and I touched your face.
and you knew.
I knew you knew.
I saw your shoulders tense with joy under a tie dye spread of blue and yellow,
and your toes scrunched.
I saw that.
Don’t forget Sundays.
Don’t forget white sheets.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
(Audaci Favet Fortuna)
sum
are
won,
sum
are
earned,
some are,
funny, some
are burned
and the smoke is moved
heaven-
ward, with open hopeful hands,
cupping the wind,
like wings...
Sending the
remnant wishes
home giving
feet to dreams.
Sums lost, some cost
lives of the unfortunate,
inhale the wisp on the wind,
to guide, a way from the ashes,
and hot coals heaped on the heads of the guilty, inspiration from any source better not back an unlucky horse, a trifecta;
there is no handle on reality, there is no night dreams that succeed once exposed to the light of day traitor trials, and you think that once
you get on your knees to pray you will be stuck and stay that way, you your voice to the heavens, will be invisible smoke, a clear cold thermo- cline,
that there is no help there; but you'd be wrong; the choice you chose before you burnt your fortunes, fortune which favours the bold, a silent tattoo, not a noise until the needle hits a nerve.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
when she walks, she does
so with a lighted crown,
as if always wearing
her favorite gown
when she smiles even suns
would reflect those rays
with their never ending
source, to which is cure
from my sickness, fast to
come, faster go when she
is near
when she laughs I have
not one worry, although
be they jokes of me, still
letting us be in time
without one hurry
‘when’ does not apply, thus
making every stair of stars
jealous, wishing not they be
compared to her eyes and
rightly so, for simple thermo-
nuclear fusion keeps them
energized and bright, oh
but how weak even then it
appears when you realize
how beautiful yes, she be
even more so, for it matches
what lays beneath
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:20 PM UTC
Ye have writen to mine heart
a memorandum in gold and blood
ancient revered venerable Angel beloved.
These withered red roses
bloom again E.T. divine.
Gold hearted Thermo King
wing mine
Revolving door fly by
patient ancient Lancelot
Knight commenting;
acertaining
Ye shifted to one better human by mine story poems
consigned to thee and the four wise winds.
Myself regaining sanity
yet sighing madness despair
revealing mine heart to thee
Ye agreed I've got more than wisdom owning truth in mine ink revealed
Ye've delighted reading mine scribble as thine beloved pet
to run hands on mine kitty fur
all as truth in thine mind's eye,
and yeah ye're dearly aroused
as ye cry me a river.
Privileged is thine life partner!
relished recipient of thine better change.
While still mine vessel soul is unresolved shunned
destitute forlorned bleeding
crying thee an ocean for thine river wept hush-hush.
I sigh all night til morn,
Mine nucleous inner core pains for thee waiting too long to offer small charity shielding
before mine bereavement
quietus curtains end.
Even dogs eating of thine table's crumbs lived, thus surely can "i."
I adolize delighting in thee taking heed thine steps quickening
fast lifting wing and landing
onto mine heart's chambers
longing to see thine will
break free rescuing me-cpr
mine wrecked ketch cursed existence empty forsake me not
and shelter me please.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Copy Rights- 5-19-20- revised
06-22-20.
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 12:39 AM UTC
Duty calls, teacher hat,
same as the preacher hat,
same as the mathematical wager,
still on, Pascal. Safe bet, but… once
a few million kids at once learned
that tic tack toe and thermo-nu-clear war,
were in the set of bets that blinks can lose.
In a New York movie, some geek kid,
reacted by becoming Barry Rudd,
the purchased man child in the legendary
Child Buyer Project, novelized after Hiroshima,
by a master of the craft, story building
from ash and salt and sand,
into glass houses none throw stones from,
in the mind game of fragile circumstances,
thin ice, no ice, open sea, pity the bears,
celebrate the sea lions and otters and seals.
Feb 22, 2024
Feb 22, 2024 at 8:18 PM UTC