Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"thermodynamic" poems
She caught on to algebraic notation, as if, she'd been born in the 64 square matrix, whose precise logic spoke her mother tongue They discussed, at length, the fianchetto formation ... ... how the defensive fortress of the castled King was akin to the monarch's personal Masada ... how the power of the doubled Rooks and Queen in the latent lance of Alekhine's Engine gored the other position in thermodynamic dissipation When he pointed out the cloaked irony of Queen being strongest, but King paramount, she shrugged, as if it were to be expected Shaking hands, agreeing to the draw, she smiled, joy precipitating from her face, knowing there could be a world without losers
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
Quenched into Percentile (for Jessica)
~ *First we close our eyes Then we build a cloud From the late heavy bombardment A thermodynamic love, this Like Chinese lanterns In weightless ecstasy Aloft from the surface of our sea of rains --Marriage chords: Thatness and thereness Trust and remembrance Learning to breathe without lungs Learning to speak without words It feels not so much like soaring through Clouds as being made one with them* ~
0
Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 10:11 AM UTC
Mare Imbrium
Rain-clouds linger in cumulonimbus fascination where the cultural class-formation is shaped by abstract territoriality. Pressure gradients of global awareness are impacted by the adiabatic process. So, turn up the heat and chill in the waves of dialectical ontology.
0
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
Thermodynamic Equilibrium
You, you are a Thermodynamic Buoyant Force ******* like the single-minded Octopus that takes and takes Strong energy, mild energy Inhales the organically-grown Petals of all flowers, regardless Good intentions. that sure is nice What humility, Artificial Plastic Egotistical Manufactured Trademarked Birthed   Regurgitated and too thoughtfully acted by You. But I see it. You have not landed. The world needs your footprint but it does not need your self-indulged hunger. Be humble. Your success is not marked if You are not humble. Keep your tentacles in your depths and Be Poised Poised you seem to be and success is your process but Humility is my truth. We float on neighboring clouds of public service that have not the same hue. Take a step back. I see you mean No harm like a dinosaur with no arms Good intentions. Take a step back. You desire to envelop others yet You do so so mindlessly I see it. Let your brain rest from the throne. the world does not serve you It serves nothing and no one as We are all lucky. You say that you’re lucky For all to hear just to endear And that is the problem My dear, be poised. Publicize your life for documentation? No Take a step back. We need your love compassion independence ambition Real not fake. Transform this and Good intentions. The world is not yours You walk on its leaf and repeated, recycled identities Take a step back. The world is not yours. Cameron Bell, Copyright © 2019
0
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
Good Intentions
Plasmatic schematics mold plastics & filament dangles in the doorway. Grape fuit sweat, enough to fill a Basilisk flask, stains my nostrils. Thermodynamic hammocks solved the energy crisis between me & her. A golden silhouette postulates in my doorway; speaking in tongues to her **** She is the structure of water. The process of a thought. Gouge out my eye & hold it consciously between those clammy palms .
0
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
VHS
our holy coronation has fallen into the inkwell. it splatters. it is primal. it stains as it enters to transcribe lines of sapphic poetry. no one is a lover alone. what is shelter without a body receiving the thermodynamic tendencies of an atom dance? the veins are etched in our lungs. how unstable the collisions. how sonic. how real !
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
hemispheres.
From the sixth floor on a Sunday night you can see the snake of green lights switch to red, cars jarred back a hundred times stopped in tracks. There is the jolt when the robin's egg cracks in my hands that is the **** motion of waking up from falling backwards. There is the second hand, second law of thermodynamic arrow of time, the red leaves want the earth beneath them and sooner die than go back up. There is sitting cross-legged next to a jigsaw waiting to see why one can only wait in one direction. Of course, you can see the traffic lights change on other nights too, but Sunday is the one I'm thinking of.
0
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
Stuck on the puzzle
Righteousness of action Assimilation despite protest Gesticulating invalid points Excommunication for beliefs & Hypercorrection to fit in Accountableness and your actions Thermodynamic reaction Excuse me for a moment Please forgive my descent in anger
0
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 3:40 PM UTC
The Descent
In recent moments I long for a miracle, something so grand and awe inspiring. Oft times I wonder how come the sky's so bright yet humans have lost themselves in an endless night? I have no fear, save for the fear of myself for I am the bone of my sword and the bane of my existence. I may not be a demon, but I gave myself a taste of hellfire. I long to feel that awe inspiring connection to another whom I have equal reasons to hate yet choose to love, she's close yet so far away. It's like a thermodynamic miracle... An event with odds so astronomical they're effectively impossible, like oxygen spontaneously becoming gold. I longed to observe such a thing, and now I have. I wonder, what drives me to you ? I gazed continually at the world and it dulled in my perspective. But you remained bright, how is it so ? That amongst the humans I so gleefully despise I found a life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg. I do not believe that existence is random, that it has no pattern save what we imagine. And after staring at it for so long. Perhaps life may have no meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world shaped by a vague metaphysical force and for a reason he lead me to you, against all odd Oxygen turned into gold.
0
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
Miracles
The weary vibrations expelled a name given to me by my mother. I heard the familar sound enunciated in contracting cords, summoned by the computational ***** fueled by the elemental product. Weve lost the way we made we started the program without knowing the coding. Mimic the mirrors sulled parallels, ghostly and thermodynamic the willow doth grow and visions wilt with the snow, the seasons dictation inside of your voice, syllable sounds of a name
0
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
you called my name
Sh-shivering. Shh, Quiet. Sh-shivering Cl-clattering Of te-teeth. Shhh. Quiet. Sh-shivering And cl-clattering Of te-teeth That sink into flesh And I sh-shiver Wanting your hands To trace across mine. And my te-teeth Cl-clatter Softly, While I sh-shiver When your hands trace across me. And I'm so c-cold But you seem to be The thermodynamic equilibrium I've needed For a really long time. Sh-shivering Turns to Elongated vowels (among other things), And I'm not so cold, Anymore. And I want my hands Held in yours, And I want to be held, By you, And I want your lips On my lips My neck My forehead My back. I want to feel your breath In the crook of my neck. I don't like The physicality of it all, I never have. Take away what it means, It's a little gross. But lyrically speaking, Elongating my vowels And going back to my shivering form, Is quite eloquently the best way to express What I can't seem to say right. Love isn't right enough. It doesn't feel like it's quite enough. So I sit here, Sh-shivering Trying to think Of the best way to tell you, That beyond cl-clattering teeth, And qui-quivering knees, And sh-shaking words That there's something more to this that makes me believe in something, And I don't know how to show you Or tell you That flying with you is The best decision I allowed myself to Fall headfirst into.
0
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC
Shivering
I receive an average of 1 text per day. It's usually a bill payment reminder. I have no friends. No, literally, none at all. I'm on 3 dating websites, sending 50 messages a day. Zero replies. I'm fit. Gym 7 days a week. Well-groomed and clothed. I've been called handsome. None of that matters. I can explain a thermodynamic chemical equation to you. And it'd still be easier than for me to land a date. I'm going to settle for a woman when I'm 40. She'll be in her 30s, desperate to conceive. We'll have some children but no interest in each other. And that'll be the end of my romantic life.
0
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 3:30 AM UTC
Truth
THE SEVEN-SECOND GENERATION. White plastic hanger, previously molten molecules, bleach additions and thermodynamic repercussions. I use the word thermodynamic because "chemical" has a falsely truther connotation to it. It hangs the shirt I choose to wear for tomorrow. A hanger is a hanger is a grocery bag. There were actions behind every reason—but not reason behind every action. And you don't talk about it, but you think about it—because you don't want the whole world to realize that it's loneliness hidden in that shirt. You were only trying to tell yourself that maybe buttons on the other side was for the better. I forgot which words to capitalize in a title so I took capitol on them all. There was a world once, out there, somewhere, that cared for more than seven seconds. They hung up the power button, asked the tide to come closer, and walked until their hair was wet. Kept going until water kissed water within lungs.
0
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 11:23 PM UTC
THE SEVEN-SECOND GENERATION.
Reality is an empty blank (?) Expanding, quivering With its unimaginable scale in light-years! Gradually quickening its cosmic throbbing Peppered with everything that dies Galaxies Stars Planets People Obeying a thermodynamic process -- That tyrant among physical laws! From which nothing is exempt Even you and I. Thus, human vanity: A cosmic joke that fades to nothingness All aspirations, ambitions ******* by entropy Quashed to oblivion All is dust. And yet, humans toil to fulfill a delusion Their hope lies in their work Their progress, their successes Salvation! Still, the universe expands... Uncaring, disinterested cold Not minding the plight of the human microbe.
0
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 9:59 PM UTC
What is Reality?