"transmitter" poems
I'm many coloured
and a perfect transcriber
and transmitter.
I only listen,
And do not interject.
Whatever you say or write,
I record faithfully.
At times, you may think
I read your mind
While it's in the clouds,
That's autocorrect,
But you push send.
I'm the perfect ear,
The ideal partner.
I'll never willingly repeat
Your heard and spoken secrets.
You're the human.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
Skating on thin ice my whole life like a figureskater.
First price on sight but the stripes, resembles a broken picture.
A golddigger... Go figure.
Writing straight from my heart so every bar tender. I remember a night in december,
from a walk in the park to a shot in the dark, I wasnt that cleaver.
Pretended to be concious and smart but now the scars on my arms shows that Im a beginner.
Sober for 3 years yet addicted to your liquor.
Sparked my transmitter when ladys slipper fell off after our first dinner,
But I never knew cinderella was a heavy hitter.
Couldnt connect the dots so now im on the ground with seven stars above my head like I got hit with the big dipper.
PTSD...
But **** all the modesty, I just need honesty...
My writtens a blasphemy (blast for me) but I can't be myself anymore like broken prophecy so God,
accept my apology, beacuse there's a monster inside of me that produces sick thoughts like it knew biology.
Some might say im insane but **** my brain, my heart is always by my side. Deranged thoughts but love tells me when its a lie.
So stay in my lane and embrace the fact that we all are going to die or live to busy and miss the heartbeat that takes you to the otherside.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
In a long happy marriage
Sometimes bedtime grows stale
Once toe curling *** fades
As libidos doth fail.
We both have tough jobs
And two kids of our own.
Sad, we both want to sleep
When we’re finally alone
The man at the store
Said “I have just the thing.
You really should try it-
makes your *** life take wing!”
It wasn’t a **** flick
Or a blue pill to swallow,
Just a tiny transmitter
to hide in her pillow.
At night, as she slept,
The salesman explained
My subliminal message
would be fed to her brain.
With her passions inflamed
She would turn to her mate
Like the once nubile bride-
Leave the rest up to fate.
So I made a recording
With a saucy suggestion
Then looked forward to bedtime
hoping for the res-errection.
My bride’s a deep sleeper,
(A good thing since I snore)
The tape’s played two weeks now
And I still haven’t scored.
I completely was baffled
That salesman assured
That no “wood” would go wasted
No ***** ignored.
Instead every night
About two thirty nine
I’d slip off to the bath
Where the “beat” would go on
I resolved to return
The unhelpful device
Before the guarantee ended
And I’d be out the price
Imagine my shock,
imagine my dread
When I found the transmitter
in my pillow instead!
Seems my wife had decided
To play with my head:
“Honey, go f8ck yourself,
If you wake me, you’re dead.”
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 10:05 AM UTC
Aligning the musculoskeletal system and channeling multidimensional energy through increasing psychological flexibility and developing emotional resiliency
Quantum leap in healing power and physical capabilities delightfully providing mental tranquility and healthy neural activity
Serenades of a dreamer; universal synchronous receiver, transmitter of vitality through awakening hidden capacity in human anatomy
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
I like you.
I like you a lot.
I want to be bored with you.
I want to hold weekly board meetings over the topic of you.
I could impress the shareholders. What do you think?
I think you enjoy honesty, and despise flattery.
Believe me, I know the difference. I hope you do too.
I am no wily flatterer
I would never say something like, “I’ll sail to the MOON for you,”
something impossible and irrelevant. With the consistency of soupy puke.
I should just as soon say,
“I WILL jump recklessly from the top of a very tall tower, and land—perfectly intact and unharmed
… for you.”
I hope I am not the only one who sees a problem with this sort of logic.
So instead I’ll say:
Let the madness of what this fixation has turned me into, fuel my fears and my ambitions and drive me therefore, to construct a missile, with enough space inside to harness only myself, enough kick in the engine to erase my past—and all the laws of life as we know it.
I will have those memorized by then, and plan to have my hands on new laws unforeseen by any of the other
mainstream earthlings;
maybe using my new third eye to grasp at something up there that was previously air —
& I will beg this nonconsensual devotion you’ve evoked in me please grant me the derision to press the button, and launch myself into that forgetful lazy river that contains all the planets, asteroids, black holes, spaceships, a lonely-wandering U.S. radio transmitter, spilt-paint nebulas, one of Tiger Woods’ golf ***** a drunken astronaut, some of the crew from that Malaysian airplane (you know, the one that went missing), and also there are suns (often called stars), and moons, and there has gotta be a little love floating around somewhere with the celestial ants
and supernovas
and EVERYTHING.
and dissimilarly nothing you can grasp.
to the Moon?
sure,
why not babe,
if moon-rocks could somehow make you fall in love with me,
I would plan to rob the Smithsonian (or probably a similar museum of history but one with less security),
and if that ended up a no-go,
thenyeah.
Mad. Zoom.
straight to the ******* moon for you.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
well, you told me i was sunshine
and i told you i was sewage and slime
you said that i was a universal transmitter of love
you said "you are like a bleeding sharpie"
i was confused at that last one
but professed that no; i was a black hole
that soaked up rays of sunshine
and the blood of many sharpies
with unquestionable gravity powers
i crushed the light, it all became night
you tried to explain to me how pretty
sharpies were when you pressed them hard
and they bled out on the page like nothing's left
but i refused to believe
"there was nothing in the first place
life is nothing"
so you asked me what was wrong
and i told you my heart was melting
warm, i could feel it dripping and slipping
you said be happy, and i agree,
i'll be there in a few days. maybe
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 9:07 PM UTC
i lost my ******* keys like an *******
then i found them on my bookshelf
haphazardly laid about in swoon style
key spooning digital receptor
transmitter
on the drunken prowl debts are paid
verbal inoculations
of heart
a boll weevil of the mind
such thoughts will follow
blindly
without content
clouds in the nitrogen reflective sky
bite marks and bruises on my skin
both condensed by mystical thought
as only a proven theorist could show
the insanity of logic
is our proof of existence
therefore hallucinating long red hairs
the keyboard that is made apparent by the inner hellfire
the so called tortured soul
and the inadequacy of all human comprehension
we can bring an end to the idea of symbolism
and resort to the purest form of command
relinquish all hope in control
jump from roof to roof
off a moving train
escape from that which draws you to your birthplace
end the dying shells
get off the island
stay with your sickness
atleast it's trying to leave you
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
I don't write because I can,
or even sometimes because I want to.
I write because words surround me
in the air; glistening, screaming and needling
into my being--
infecting my crimson and azure paths
with their ( { ( { electric cacophony} ) } ), ( )
vibrating sacred whispers of musical patterns /<+>\
dripping directly into my spirit aglow with creation,
imbuing a certain serenity of past, now and future cuneiform tattoos
unto my mind--
high as a shooting star gliding in midnight moonbeams...
It's like when a fish stops moving it will die.
Every day it is a glorious struggle to keep up with myself,
these words,
so as not to drown in the insanity.
These words once inhaled by ancestors, whales and grass
hurl through space, time and the infinite creation
slamming into me;
a mercurial, rose watery doorway portal conduit transmitter
typing bebop lightning striking your match stick soul,
buzzing and manifesting rainbow jazz steps connecting us!
Dishonor would chew me from the inside out
should I not comply.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
with the phone pressed to my ear
and my hot breath on the
transmitter, i told you of my
consuming fears that cover
me like heavy blankets:
smothering and comfortable
like a second skin i can never
shed because there is no
recognition or elasticity of
the first (*even if i found
it i wouldn't be able to wear it;
it has been worn too many times before*)
with the comforter tucked
underneath my chin and my ear
on the receiver, i waited for you to
tell me of the terror we both share
except the reason:
you are the origin of my
darkness and the stars in your
night sky have not burned
out yet, i don't know why you hide
them with ink splotches ; (*mine are
shriveled and etched into the
palms of my hands; they
never fade away*)
with another call ended
and our thoughts encompassing our
tortured minds, i stare at my wall
counting all the
hours
minutes
feelings
people
wasted and the ideals
i never achieved, while you stare out
your window
counting all of the innumerable
lights that you think are never
in your favor and you lay
saddened
tired
hopeful
expecting
waiting for a shooting star
to crash through your bedroom window
and
plunge
into
your
heart.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
To the beating sound of his heart,
mix a handful of delighted laughter
with a spoonful of sweet kisses.
Don't forget the pinch of care
and add a droplet of attraction,
or just make it two.
Then sprinkle in some glitter,
with the affect of a spark transmitter.
But before you're finished,
mix in 10 ml of undiluted trust.
Finally it's done, bottle it up
and keep it forever.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 5:51 AM UTC
The drugs I've took for days
Have left me in this haze
So today I float along
Trying to forget you song
You sang to me with love
Only to give the finale shove
You tied me to the tracks
Guess you like the sound of all the cracks
As my heart was split into
You did all that you could do
To make sure that I would choke
On all the words you spoke
But baby you was wrong
As I just move along
I hope my love haunts you
I hope your heart stays blue
I have found a new toy
I crush on a new boy
For you was never a man
Not good enough to take my hand
So now there's a new one to take your place
Someone I've known for years, that now gets to tastes my grace
Thank you for letting me go
Or his passion I wouldn't know
He kisses all my scars
He helped me break my fall
But no one gets my heart again
You helped remind me thats a sin
Better monsters than you have tried to consume and feed
But I am stronger with every break, I will not conceded
Thank you for the ride
The down hill slide
For at the bottom I found myself and him
In tangled on a whim
And by that bonfire
He lit my desire
He's my flame licker
My passion transmitter
So go on your lonely way
To you I have only one thing left to say
You threw away a golden heart
You really wasn't all that smart
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
Through the telephone wire (remember those?)
crawled in an earwig, such a talented insect. He
would take over, chew and choose the words,
words heard or not, from time after, a stranger
called to tell me you were dead. This bug in my ear,
sent by a stranger to allow a coping mechanism in.
That voracious little beetle heard everything since.
What he does not spit out, relayed through pinchers
immutably clamped upon my right eardrum. This
strange and pleasing tic of mine, my earwig
is evolutionary. Something I consider gifted from
Late Triassic period, a time I refuse to remember.
A transmitter and editing device, only letting in
what is endurable, so I need not wrestle with rest.
My happy parasite, working so hard to eliminate
pain of many deaths that came after first one,
all the lovers lost. Pestilence still vibrates
through a tuning fork on back end of bug.
Chaw and discharge, seeping out my ear can
no longer be ignored. No longer holds on.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
as the day has left me
love is still there
for special ones
I thank these inspirations
for love's desire
invigorates and sustains
this weary soul
So I look forward
to being together soon
with company
who make me whole
Now to croon this tune
to a crescent moon
to telegraph it
to telepath it
Just to do this lifts me up
I believe my targets get it
even if they don't know it
I'm a love transmitter
a shining sun
in a world that's done
having fun
because you have won
if you learn to love
Everyone
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
Those are soft windows that keep these four eyed rooms in our pretty cat yarns. Asleep under the mouth of a friend, or a spiral love contained in each small hair. What formula the birds make at our wandering language(s)– researched for eighteen years before we meet in the flesh beneath a flickering halogen. Arms we attach, the extra wings that we have set upon one another's broken shoulders– the ones to repair the loss and pay for damages inside our breath. Souls wiggling next to each other from the radio waves inside us, to the licking skin, a nights alone weave person to long anchored person– Build the secret machine in us. Tuned at that night watch as the snow passes down our loving loop story– It's Myst of our devises we must someday submerge, alone one another to final transmitter tower, a dark left turn upon the electric, we gotta go down that channel, the open sign where an electric daisy rises up.
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 10:17 PM UTC
My voice talking to you,
like waves on the ocean
crashing, crashing, calling for your attention.
Your ears hearing but not listening,
like a transmitter with an unknown signal.
Picking up my voice but not doing anything with it,
recognizing the words but not understanding them.
When did it get like this,
our communication like two sides of a universe:
together, but completely different?
Do opposites really attract,
or do they just push each other away
when they realize how different they actually are?
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
Her eyes cut like honesty.
She destroys certainty
like the contact of unknown lips-
Forbiding me
A desired amuse bouche,
and I couldn't hear her decline your megaton of yesterday's drudge.
"How do I suffer you?" "Go off, do your hedonist."
Truth is a bitter transmitter.
It always smells of curling cinders,
that I have inhaled deeply
Either unlike indifference
that I've guiltlessly-danced out of denial.
I'll know who's true to me.
With audacity you admit everything.
Your audacity, I pull generous hands forward and hear , "Yes."
Audacity that I grant access to shared thoughts.
Audacity I.
Honesty can be shrouded in midnight
or as rebellious as a pimple on your nose.
There is nothing to be gained from insults
(Or Cruelty)
Discovered before caresses and thefts.
Without who I agree, some of the terrible places
are left unused charities
Either debt. As if loneliness is not a department store.
I know where I went right
She destroyed random targets,
unmasking her borrowed glorious virtue
And after you hear the burst of her AR,
she'll feel the measure of her worth.
It's all my fault.
A locked window was your denial
So I crawled through the basement window
It wasn't an honest defense.
Let me buy you the wine list.
let her obey.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
you continue to confuse & bemuse me
god little girl tease & please me
hair raven black
pouring over me when I lay
beneath you
rocking swelling rising rebelling
your hand holds my eyes closed
& you silently whisper
the secrets etched into your bones
skeletal hyroglyphics
you let me borrow your skin
feel the muscles under
read the scared scrolls
& reveal transmitter pathways
behind soul windows
you give me every piece of you
& to me you're just a piece to be used.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
The drugs I've took for days
Have left me in this haze
So today I float along
Trying to forget your song
You sang to me with love
Only to give the finale shove
You tied me to the tracks
Guess you like the sound of all the cracks
As my heart was split into
You did all that you could do
To make sure that I would choke
On all the words you spoke
But baby you was wrong
As I just move along
I hope my love haunts you
I hope your heart stays blue
I have found a new toy
I crush on a new boy
For you was never a man
Not good enough to take my hand
So now there's a new one to take your place
Someone I've known for years, that now gets to tastes my grace
Thank you for letting me go
Or his passion I wouldn't know
He kisses all my scars
He helped me break my fall
But no one gets my heart again
You helped remind me thats a sin
Better monsters than you have tried to consume and feed
But I am stronger with every break, I will not conceded
Thank you for the ride
The down hill slide
For at the bottom I found myself and him
In tangled on a whim
And by that bonfire
He lit my desire
He's my flame licker
My passion transmitter
So go on your lonely way
To you I have only one thing left to say
You threw away a golden heart
You really wasn't all that smart
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:03 AM UTC
The beat-down
disciple
knows
Someday she'll
...have
new clothes
And the
bitter
God-transmitter
Having taped
two thousand
shows
Laying hands
on all,
he rose,
Had his coffee,
spoke his
prose,
Tuned his ear;
thumbed
his nose.
The sweet, sweet
smell of
spring,
Ah, the crisp
olfactory
ping,
And the
honey-
jar of money
Takes away
the winter's
sting
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
a transmitter roughly
feed a rat or pump Mother with a nailgun
brained easters confetti eyes and shredded vision deserts.
frosty spectacular
oracular suffocation push & bringing in the changes
hyper-faced you got crushed by this crushing rock.
heady aches binding teeth like a calf and its mother frozen in mud....
I have taken your teeth with the seeds of an orange fruit
I am ingesting your breathe like a poisoned candy sweet
I devour your voice into thick and rot
I turn you green and black and blue
you can no longer be the only you.
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
Your ****** gestures
invite me to peer at
them through a
transom which is a two-way
thought transmitter!
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
He played in her lushness all night long
She had a moist garden of much pleasure
Within it he could place his stem's treasure
Each stroke he offered twas truly strong
Her ******* were so delicious to taste
She became excited by his tongue's action
The feel of it made a great impaction
Their love transmitter twas like a hot baste
Her inner petals did hold his stem tight
Glistening sweat beads flowing on bed sheets
On the night's enthralling they did explore
A crescendo reached a sky of delight
Remarkable were their nocturnal feats
When dawn came they partook of an encore
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
It's more than simply what you typed,
What you spoke over the phone;
It's how you've done it
Down to every detail,
From the face you made
To each little keystroke.
The trends, the habits, & routines
By which you live your life by;
Tagged with geolocation & time.
Nowadays, there's even more devices
Like the phone or speaker or television;
Like satellite, transmitter, receiver.
There's a tag on your ear
By which you're known by-
It's just not what you go by, chattel.
Feb 13, 2025
Feb 13, 2025 at 11:05 AM UTC
Introspection
Inside inspection
Still spinning
From last nights rejection
Lurching
Illness perching
Mental *******
Why am I still searching?
Alone
Charged stone
Casting spells
I build a spiritual home
Bare
Blank stare
Skin stripped
Are you still there?
Whisper
Word twister
Speak tongues
Static on the radio transmitter
Silence
Internal violence
Ears bleeding
Mind quiet
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 4:59 AM UTC
If you create lyric
you are never a writer
you are a transmitter
of ideas, of feelings
of life
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC