"transaction" poems
750
Growth of Man—like Growth of Nature—
Gravitates within—
Atmosphere, and Sun endorse it—
Bit it stir—alone—
Each—its difficult Ideal
Must achieve—Itself—
Through the solitary prowess
Of a Silent Life—
Effort—is the sole condition—
Patience of Itself—
Patience of opposing forces—
And intact Belief—
Looking on—is the Department
Of its Audience—
But Transaction—is assisted
By no Countenance—
17.4k
- Listening doesn't always mean understanding
- Listening could mean getting lost in your own thought of tranquility
- Or even your own devastational whir
- Listening doesn't have to be with your ears
- Just the exhaustion of emptiness that outlines your skull;
- Or even the numbness that conquers every length from spine to external excellence of your mind;
- Gliding from one emotion to another could be the loudest transaction without making a single clamor;
- Listening doesn't always mean understanding
- But the utter perplexity of ones thoughts drowning in the sound of nothingness.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
You know something like 200,000 dollars
Was spent to educate me
And here I am on Amazon
Wishing I could afford to order two
Pair of hiking socks instead of one
I'll use my debit card for this transaction
And make the payment on my credit card this month
And then I will be able to order a second pair
Lol
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
First things first
I'd like to apologise
I'm sorry I'm not the good Indian girl I was bred to be
I'm sorry I don't make round rotis
I'm sorry that the tongue I use to speak punjabi is broken and hides in my mouth unused until desperately needed
I'm sorry that I don't cook and clean efficiently enough to be wifey material
Sorry that I love who I love and don't hate who I was told to
Sorry that I can't follow gods blindly and not try to sneak back stage to see their shining gold adornments and blue body paints and multiple arms in full and bare glory and scandal
I'm sorry that I'm actually not sorry for any of this
I'm sorry that these are false and empty apologies
I am unapologetically whole
A human not just a race
A female not a trust fund or business transaction
I filter out the good parts of the culture I'm from and the ones I identify with
I'll wear docs under my saari no apologies
I'll grind on dancefloors and do the best Bhangra dance you'll ever see unashamedly
Hareems and hoodies
Bindies and pin up eyeliner
Hedonism and head in the clouds
My ambition is Ambedkar untouchable
My drive is a salt march surging silently non violently through cities
My hometown pride is built in concrete and rickshaw dust,
Prejudice and Bollywood lust
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
Miscommunication
serendipity, anticipation,
blurred reality -
lost in the dialect
of a dream,
in pursuit
of Love
find callous irony;
subversion of desire
what's it all about?
to know and be known.
Mere seconds
of scrutiny
inferior,
I am shown.
Her appraisal
eviscerating
my warm flesh,
her tilted criteria
supplanting the interior,
voluble with
saccharine neologisms
and preferences
for the exterior.
(not mine)
Ironic was my
attraction to
her brain.
Lines, features
and symmetry,
image - the commodity,
aesthetics, the
currency
in this transaction,
cursory liaison,
incendiary,
collapse of the
insurgent ego -
there was no
us in the
the affair of
nothingness.
Bruised in
abasement,
I'm not the one -
I thought I was.
Hyperbole -
the center
of delusion,
a curious
diversion -
avoid my life.
The allure of
the illusion,
transference,
the ordinary to
the romantic,
the perfect other.
Searching, the
absorbing project -
aquiring wholeness,
did she reject me?
I rejected me.
The escape into
fraudulent
sadness,
to mourn,
is to displace,
the disowned heart
by self is tragic.
Should
I not mourn for
the one I'm
deferring?
Inside of me
It's safe,
to lament
the loss of
identity -
tension is agony
without resolve
sequestered,
in my pain,
self-imposed
familiar terrain,
upon retrieval,
awaking in
renewal,
mystery and destiny
providentially,
I am free.
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
Saul. Babbittz.
Slight variation of the name Paul - sometimes pronounced
with the
"ah-oolll"
of Raul - to intrigue cashiers and toll booth attendents.
These words seem meaningless and even less interesting than the blank white background each letter invades.
And still I thank the God in my stomach that wakes up every once in a while to capture butterflies before I leave the house so I can turn down the sounds in my head that stir the butterflies to a frenzied mess of tangled neurons and synaptic maladjustment.
My interaction goes something like this:
cashier-"do you have a bonus card?"
me-(holding out the pad of my thumb - serious like lava)
cashier-(looking at me with a confused look)
me- "I thought thumb scans were enacted throughout the states. Sorry about that, I just got used to the thumb scan back home in North Dakota".
cashier- (dumbfounded, slightly annoyed)
me- (chuckling-embarrassed smirk) "you know, like a dystopian tracking system?"
cashier- "uh, not really" (avoiding eye contact, rushed transaction) "freak" (under her breath).
butterflies again
I've never even lived in North Dakota!
Just uncomfortable enough to prove that body heat activated "degree" does not provide 24 hour protection...
Next transaction a day later:
me- (silence)
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 9:10 PM UTC
setting myself down on an anvil pillow. sleep is an anvil pillow. anvil and stone are a suicide dressed in 8 hours of mini-Godheads.. you become a repeat offender in the ever expanding realm of emerging fractal patterns sewn upon the quilt you lay across your sleepy bones like rushing water in an underground cave miles below the Yucatan Peninsula..
by electronic firelight they lay on my leather couch with the scraps of bedding I could afford to share, as if for some reason I can't escape the money analogy and see this, too, as a transaction.. buying.. a transaction.. as transfat is to nutrition.. money is tao.. my hate for money is tao.. I'm a love-and-lost buddhist like every other dreamer before me.
I'm tired of giving myself a *******
All I ever give myself is a *******
I refuse to bend over and at least try to give me a ******* or go to the next level in love and **** myself.
I keep telling me to do it. Keep grabbing my own *** during passionate tongue-twisters but I keep on insisting that I just CAN'T go any further.. rationally I may be right, but irrationally I still get shrieks of jealousy because I see that ******* sneaking out to kiss girls all the ******* time* as if I didn't exist. As if I wasn't always watching.
I stalk myself. It's a terrifying state of affairs. No matter where I go, there I am.
Watching.
One night, I invited me over, and as usual, I gave myself a ******* yet refused to go any further.
This was the straw that cracked the camels back.. and come 4 AM I kissed myself softly on the forehead as I slept and slipped into the night, hailing the first taxi to sail past me on the concrete river.
I awoke slowly the next morning and.. still dazed.. noticed I was nowhere to be found.
A great grief flooded my solar plexus and moved into my hopeless bones.
I had not even left a note. What a ******* I am!
I had not even left a note.
The rest of the day was spent in sordid grievance. I shivered, lonely, under my ever expanding realm of emerging fractal patterns sewn upon the quilt I lay across my sleepy bones like rushing water in an underground cave miles below the Yucatan Peninsula..
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
It was in total a fast track ticket to the moon
and I can't return to transaction dock 8 too soon
the star checkout lane at my local supermarket
tops balloons with rocket science aeronautics
that pilot's service areas binary counter perfect
exceeding expectations bent into global orbit
My items sped along to muzak her slim milky way belt
a smile beaming discount countdowns heaven sent
taking off in bit lips when her priceless item buttons
almost burst free to air with a strain of special promotions
helpfully assisting my every excess flight of fancy
made impulse buys a baggage allowance necessity
She stroked parts of her radical laser station
to fully engage hygienic wiped spills of imagination
and I felt the warp of hyperdrive tangelo engines
urging me into a dive to scan juice ripe tangerines
a last minute save fuelled by stalling flashback cavities
gyrating in tight nets as we escaped earth's gravity
With a twist of her wrist I was into fits-the-bill ecstasy
as the whirr of electronics cut loose such quality
with a lick of an index finger our mission was bagged
handled too efficiently for any danger of jet lag
no flyby chance to not exchange standby coupons
my trolley emptied of offers too galactic to pass on
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
step 1: de·ni·al
noun
the action of declaring something to be untrue.
i thought about sending you an email today.
i got through four drafts before i quit.
i haven't talked to you in three months. i haven't deleted your messages in three months. i haven't stopped thinking about you in three months. my heart is still synced with yours. it stopped beating 131,487 minutes ago. please leave a message after the beep.
step 2: an·ger
noun
a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.
i'm glad you're gone. you were a house but you were never a home for me. i've moved three times since i left.
you shoved your fingers down my throat and left me retching in the snow, excuses tripping on their way out of your cherry bitten lips.
you made me your slaughterhouse, blood on my hands and heart.
i am made of too many things, a conglomeration the size of a galaxy, thirty people sewn into my skin. there is a hole in my chest the size of your fist. please leave a message after the beep.
step 3: bar·gain
verb
negotiate the terms and conditions of a transaction.
(maybe if i had loved you a little less you would have learned to love me back)
step 4: de·pres·sion
noun
severe despondency and dejection, typically felt over a period of time and accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy.
i spent more time thinking about you than i ever did about myself. i'm not sure if this is selfish or selfless and i'm not sure if i know the difference. i hung up on you once and you didn't speak to me for a week and i'm not sure if this is love or hatred and i'm not sure if i know the difference. i haven't spoken to you in seven months. please leave a message after the beep.
step 5: ac·cept·ance
noun
agreement with or belief in an idea, opinion, or explanation.
you told me that acceptance was the same as tolerance.
i don't think i believe you.
i haven't spoken to you in twelve months.
please leave a message after the beep.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
Sick and cyclical memories linger, how unjust it seems
In somber city streets, her father's name she screams
When the fix is late and her body sodden and shaking
Her childhood recollections waking, every joint aching
Falling on tarmac, tearing stockings and fleshy knees
Through the distant mist it's a saviour that she sees
Marvin on a white steed, motorbike and leathers
To get her straight he only requires her nethers
What difference could it make to such a worn woman
So little that her eyes glaze as he announces his comin'
And she's immediately put to work after initial transaction
All night shifts, ****** abstraction, customer satisfaction
Returning 'home' to Marvin where the earnings are counted
Giggling schoolgirl as playful stories of John's are recounted
And Marvin's insatiable perversions are compounded
****** cocktails and deviancy, her psyche confounded
The **** sleeps blissfully beside his new top girl
And through ****** daze, she examines her world
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Slowly saving
patiently waiting
email received transaction confirmed
item conceived, time contracted
a gift for one, many or all
a package surely to befall
a package arrives as the sun rises
it finally comes, joy
it fills us as we tear it apart "oh boy!"
help yourself, its ok to treat yourself
again save and order
await the presents that cross borders
happiness from innocent pleasures
isn't that a great treasure
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 2:48 AM UTC
Ignorance is bliss, as my sister in law put it
in that case I suppose you could compare its bliss to
high school
It's not what it used to be
You don't go to learn
You go to pass
It's not about the knowledge
It's about the grade
It used to be if you gave respect
You got respect
Now,
Im not sure any child of this generation understands the simple transaction
But in better words
They demand what they don't give
And take what they don't have
Ignorance is bliss
Sister Dear I'll take your word for it
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Here, now, is the world before me:
Women are struggling to make a living
And men struggling for beer.
The markets are full of drying-up warehouses
And market stalls pregnant with emptiness.
A woman comes in,
Calls the last goods on the shelf, indicating interest.
There are the dying smiles that echo no goodwill
Upon the naming of a price-below-purchasing;
There are the hungry laughters at the teeth of the buyer
Who seeks his own gains;
There are the welling-up tears that fill the eyes of the seller
Who needs the penny to live another day.
Poverty and want wears an ugly face
And gives hate a voice to echo its disdain.
Much displeasure fills the air but in business
The customer always wins.
Pain eats up my heart as I watch the transaction.
Here, survival matters- just as much as love,
But now even this is no more.
Abacheke-Egbema, Imo State. January 2014
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Fond of love? Is it not?
With whom do I speak about?
Is it the heart?
A mere transaction between the heart and the love that it gives
Takes
Moves and listens to each
And every
Single
Day.
I feel…
Yet there is no presenter.
No one to share,
No one to give.
No supplier, provider. There is a house,
Yet it is no home. No place to reside.
What I feel is an experience worth the ride. I bought plane tickets this time.
A one way ticket to wherever it can take me.
Prescribe me the medication, the antidote.
Respond to my prayers with a challenge, rather than a definition.
Give me the reason I long for, simply
Because I ask for it.
Love.
Give it to me.
Feed it to me,
Make it melt in my mouth, at the tip of my tongue.
Let it linger,
Whisper my name,
Romance at the calm of my voice.
Feel my words against yours.
Trial my heart.
Adore.
Bestow upon her the
True
Meaning
Of
Love.
The distinction between a kiss,
And a hug.
The conceptual, intangible evidence that she is looking for.
Hurt?
Pain?
No more.
What I feel is the reaction to love.
There can only be pain
Where there is a heart.
This can go on for as long as it can be taken.
I have been beat up by love,
Yet I refuse for it to take advantage.
It will challenge me indefinitely, until I learn what it dares not bring forth at ease.
Afraid, withdrawn. Confused,
Wishing for a moment. My heart is weak.
Tired of the constant reciprocation of negative energy feeding at her.
Eating her alive. Heart.
Love,
Striking her.
Take it. Take it.
Not for an eternity, rather,
For a moment.
Stand up and fight for it.
A feeling deep inside waiting to let go. Please,
Take it.
I dare not wish to fight another day. She says. She says
She loves him.
She says that she wants to be with him.
Another heart to hold,
Another heart to handle.
Another heart to feel, and be loved by.
A heart scorned by the misinterpretation of the mind however. An emotion that remains,
Sitting
As if there was no other place.
Without love I do not seek to be found. With it,
I am everything. I am a journey with no end,
No signs telling me where to go, what to do, who to love and who to be without. Love.
Shut up and take it.
Barr up the doors! Continue to hide in safety. Create your own world,
Within the lies you constantly tell yourself. Day to day
You sit and embrace your own heart,
Your own hourglass.
In hope of one day someone else loving you the way that love does.
The word is simply a word.
The actions are actions,
And the pain is pain.
The feeling is feeling,
The emotion is emotion.
What is love is love,
What gives what receives are what we call motivation.
Fond of love I am.
It is not pain that I speak of. It is the heart.
Worthy of any and every transaction between itself and love and I live in it
Each
And
Every
Single
Day.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
Working your way out of ionic ******* can be
seriously interesting however, it can also be
lugubrious.
I was standing in the aisle at Bulk Barn.
low on neutrinos, I was looking to stock up
I like to sprinkle them on my cereal in the morning
I then made my way down the anti-photon aisle
if you like your coffee black and not sweet, as I do
this is almost as good as other alternatives
I did realize that
my electron supply was fine
but thought I'd get some anyway
just for the ion-y
I don't understand the economics of this transaction
but it is apparent the invisible hand does
When the clerk looked in my basket
I was waved through
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 7:56 PM UTC
the filth of the alley is kind
it is the dust of the office
that coats the brick cubicles
here stands the curved beauty
presented and elegant
as if carved to physical perfection
she sways the men who pass
hoping to tickle the primitive weakness
that steeps within
like a corporate jungle
they compete for position
to meet the daily quota
among the urchins and minions
they are the forbidden fruit
they’re bouquet fills the air
bringing suitors
who choose the exceptional
these retched sales are precise
they’re instrument is physical
product of flesh and pleasure
the red light markets this reality
teasing curious souls
into the cubicles
giving into the primitive weakness
they leave them stripped and bare
cradled by the alley
covered by the filth
the transaction filled
she stands
the curved beauty
and begins this ritual again
Apr 11, 2012
Apr 11, 2012 at 9:57 PM UTC
My thermometer showed water lilies,
While the I drank the sky in a perfect line
Now, choke me with that smile
And let me borrow small pieces of your time
Afterall it's a cashless transaction.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
We start the shift at the same pizzeria
Then we must go on deliveries
And individuality is born
Through varying methods and differing destinations
But distinction is mostly born through tips
The start of the drive is almost always somewhat positive
Unless you know you're getting a low tip in advance
The transaction is the singular event
It's outcome determines your demeanor for the drive back
To the store that is our equalizing ending
Deliveries are over at that point
The beginning and end are the same store
The middle is our transaction
Delivery drivers have lived a thousand lives
If they have delivered a thousand pies
Often getting low tips and asking why
I maximize the radio's volume
To avoid hearing
The roar of my engine
Indicating the speed of my delivery
But the lyrics
Sound so similar to my engine's audio
Tears form in my dreaming eyes
I wipe them away
To be presentable to the customer
Who doesn't tip in heartbreaking fashion
As I return to my vehicle
Tears are no longer available
Only silent contemplation
My thoughts void blaring music
As the reality of my delivery has been discovered
And the nature of my drive back dawns on me
I'm compelled to rush to the end of the journey
So I might possibly start a new delivery
Instead of the one I'm on
Wishing I had gotten better tips
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 10:17 PM UTC
Beneath the surface of our giving,
A quiet echo, always living.
The hand extended, the gift bestowed,
Holds traces of what the heart is owed.
In every act of kindness shown,
A seed of self is always sown.
A smile exchanged, a burden shared,
The giver leaves their soul ensnared.
Transaction speaks in whispers faint,
Not loud enough to mar the saint.
Yet woven in the tapestry,
Is the thread of reciprocity.
Evolution’s pen, so deftly writ,
Has carved the rules; we benefit.
To give is to connect, survive,
To keep the fire of bonds alive.
But purest light, we chase, we yearn,
For altruism that won’t return.
A gift devoid of self, of gain,
A spotless deed, untouched by stain.
And here, the fallacy takes form,
A standard raised against the norm.
To cast aside what’s real, profound,
For lofty heights that can’t be found.
For in the real, the flawed, the small,
Lies beauty woven through it all.
A kindness fraught with give and take
Still soothes the wounds that living makes.
Should we dismiss imperfect grace,
Because it wears a human face?
Or hold it close, and see it whole,
A blend of heart, and mind, and soul.
The saintly act, the selfish cheer,
Are not as distant as they appear.
For even joy in giving free
Forms part of our humanity.
So let us honor deeds once spurned,
Where subtle trades of trust are earned.
And measure worth by what is done,
Not by the motives of the one.
For if perfection is the goal,
We’ll find no virtue in the soul.
Yet in the flawed, the fractured light,
Shines something real, and something right.
Reflection
Altruism is no saint’s domain,
But the hand that lifts through joy or pain.
A mirror held to humankind,
Revealing heart, and what’s behind.
Dec 2, 2024
Dec 2, 2024 at 2:58 AM UTC
The genie inside the bowl
told me of his lowest day eighteen fortnights ago.
The day he did not feel like a genie.
He awoke yet his eyes cried for the return of rest.
The one wish he could not concede
plagued his mind.
He did not know
how. He could not bend
the rules of time
to fulfill the most human
desire which is to wish
to never have to wish
that the present day
was not a bad day.
Like the transaction
between a poker dealer
and the man with no fear
in his eyes,
we barter with life on a cyclical game of poker.
Sometimes the house wins,
and it hurts like a thumb tacker.
A pair 2s is so inconsequential against
life happening.
No genie can stand in the way
of life happening.
The genie in the bowl
told me to make the most of this low day
happening, go on a stroll,
to take care of myself
and recognize that today is just a bad day.
Perhaps tomorrow will be better,
in the meantime get some sleep
and to try again tomorrow.
The genie in the bowl did give me a wish. Now I know how to recognize a bad day.
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 10:01 PM UTC
Sugar baby
plaything for daddy
showers her in money
she’s his honey
Fulfills her lifestyle
widens his smile
hugs and kisses
never his mrs.
he’s paying her college fees
she’s often on her knees
has a child to feed
gives her what she needs
Is it prostitution?
or business transaction
Is either getting hurt
is it all just sport
Sugar is nice
to life adds spice
but too much can be bad for you
I hope their actions they don’t rue
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Pleasure , Pleasure,
Pleasurable desire to be pleasured,
And be looked into when love has this
measure, I could put this all together.
Sexist , sexist,
Thinking women could be ****** objects,
To be appalled in this transaction to look
good in that leather, I could put this together.
This Is a new experience.
This is a new experience.For me
This is a new experience.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC