"unequivocally" poems
do it for the ***** Laura
yes
sore for all the reasons
because sometimes i want
a **** that destroys jeans
and all forms of pants unequivocally
feel powerful
workout the body
and rip the peanut butter lid off the jar
proclaim to the universe
i have something that you should all stare
at
i
go home
and
eat chips and salsa
and
think nothing of it
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...
My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.
Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.
Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.
My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC
My eyes are beyond polluted
By the overflowing inanities
That paint wordless post-mortems
On yesterday's lost fantasies
Rolling over lifeless as dead certains
When obligations fall into disrepair
And the king of all invocations
Awaits power sitting in an electric chair
As darkness shrouds the uninspired
In triumphant ticker tape parades
While the bewildered beast becomes the feast
A million glasses in toast are raised
To the jesters unequivocally blasphemous proposal
To the queen of all frustrated converts
Who Once Upon a Time willingly surrendered
To the impresario pretender
Who fooled the world by laying siege on the empty house of cards
And with all the power granted
By the grace of obscenities triumphant screams
Separating me from reality by infiltrating my failing vision
With the polluted overflowing inanities of these cellophane dreams
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
The words will someday bury me, eternally, eventually
a specter that none can venture, or see
and yet, will always be
My ghost now in periphery, essentially, unequivocally
just some paranoid activity
spirits wild, and free
A presence, apparition, without material definition
no clarity from any position
a deteriorated condition
The doctor, from his elevated premonition
pumping me full, and mentally dull
with no chance in hell
of any recognition
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
while the debate goes on and on,
as to which country has the longest, continuous
democratic parliament, have it on on good authority
that the subject above,
is it better to love your kids too much than not enough?
was the first among all temporal discussions ever held,
despite periodic tabling, the debate remains unresolved,
the question unsettled even after 1000 years+ of argumentation
when over time, Universal Adult Suffrage finally came to be,
the debate became renewable, enflamed, divisive most contentiously,
various coming down on each side of a point of view topically
since mother, father and child, i.e.
pretty much everyone, definitionally,
claimed total expertise,
and sparing the rod was deemed by most to be illegally,
no plebiscite, amendment or ballot initiative was resolved resolutely,
the beat goes on continuously as new children reach voting age, sagaciously repeating their view, personally
my view?
I’ve tried both and failed equally
so I’ve little to contribute,
so let it be stated in manner unequivocally,
the sweet sensibility says too well,
but helicopters crash and monied snowplows
run over other both their own and others better deserving,
leaving all of them buried in snow piles street side,
while those who blame their faults on insufficient love,
are later most demanding more attention than any,
having becoming painfully hardy, by being treated hard about,
hard on themselves and worse to others
everyone knows the answer to this question for themselves
but I’ll leave you with this,
permitting a child to fail is a winning strategy,
as long as there is no legal limit
regarding the amount or frequency
on lifetime hugging
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 2:14 AM UTC
That phone call from my lawyer
gave me the courage to enter the house
where I raised both of my children
and endured, in silence, the abuse
of a controlling and angry husband
who would eventually end our marriage.
Twenty-five years ago, we married.
The end came last spring, with papers from my lawyer
stating unequivocally that my husband
would have to surrender the keys to the house
where our girls were subjected to his abuse.
Nothing was more important than protecting my children.
The most precious gift are my children
who ironically, would not exist if this man I did not marry.
Years ago, I could not know that in time, would come abuse.
I was told by family and friends to get myself a lawyer
and hold on to my dignity, my children, my home.
I would raise, protect and nurture them myself, without a husband.
Young girl’s fancies once danced in my head. To have a husband,
to marry and live the American dream. Have children,
a dog, a white picket fence surrounding the house.
All would be well, in this happily-ever-after marriage.
But, dreams turn to nightmares; the separation needs to be legal
to help me through this veil of pain and abuse.
For many things can be tolerated, but not abuse.
Be it physical or mental, from boyfriend or husband
The cycle needs to end, and therefore my lawyer
Drew up the papers to protect me and my children
and end an unraveling marriage.
So that there would be peace in my home.
Now my girls and I live together in our home,
free from strife, bitterness and abuse.
My prayer for them is that someday they will marry
a man of strength and integrity, a husband
a lover, a lifetime partner, loving her and his children.
A life such as this will not need a lawyer.
This is my tale of marriage, with children in the house
when it’s necessary to hire a lawyer, to stop the abuse
because of a controlling husband lording it over his children.
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 8:44 PM UTC
Kindred Spirit
(Ode an angel)
Your anatomy is an atom in it's purest form
if I am your moon you are my sun,
unequivocally you are my all.
The sole of you feet
drag sand from other beaches
I am the the owner of an amputated
spirit that you mend with broken kisses.
My kindred spirit.
Idealistically,
the being made from the same mold
when I contemplate you visually
leaves no doubt in my soul.
Physically, lyrically,
metaphorically speaking.
The Caribbean reflects on your face
when sun hits it
giving your Cinnamon complexion
a whole new meaning.
My kindred love.
I am humbled to you have you whole
and you are an angel sans the halo
and your smile makes God himself blush.
You are definitely not of this world
and warmth of your body surpasses
that of the Equator
when I am your scorching fire
you are my log.
My kindred soul.
Your heart is bigger than everything that is
and I would gladly spend
the rest of my life in your lips
undoubtedly, mathematically
an infinity will be it.
Because you are the cure
to my incurable illness
everything that I wanted,
my Earth, my Sun, my all
my kindred spirit.
Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 3:13 PM UTC
f I leave you with the impression
that I think you are perfect
I apologize.
As unromantic as it is
I simply know this isn't true
and like all of us you have more
baggage then we like to admit.
But one part of you I know to be perfect
is your aesthetics.
The way all of your parts
good and bad mix together
to create a person I can hardly
believe I've actually met.
Your beauty and insanity
lifelong dreams and daily desires
blend together and leave me
in the presence of somebody
unequivocally and irrefutably
real.
You exceed my maximum daily dose
of reality and although it isn't always
easy, I am only too glad to take
hit after hit.
The high is something I cannot describe.
Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 9:11 PM UTC
*[Note: Not one of Subject B's 17,891 journal entries found
mention anything about Why Time itself had stopped.
Refer to Subject X's Archival Journal: Chapter 16
Science of an Improbability (pages 356- 387) for further research]*
___________________________________________________
February 14th, 1955
Dear Dr. Einstein,
What's up Doc? I decided it's Valentine's Day. Unequivocally! And it's a Saturday! Saturdays are my absolute relative favorite. Always have been, I think...
See, up until "yesterday" I thought it might have been almost a year since the whole time thing. I look older, that's for sure. Measured myself up on the kitchen notches and I'm just about as tall as Derrick was when he was 13-- which isn't much, we're a short family. Dad topped-off at 5' 7" and was super lucky to find my mom. She was 5' 7" as well but hated heels. Anyway, though, it could be less than a year. It gets really confusing with the sun always in the same spot, which is why I decided it's Valentine's Day. And it's Saturday! I've already cut a picture of Howdy Doody and put it on the TV.
Okay Doc, that's all. Just wanted to wish you a Happy Valentine's Day. Might move my bed up to the attic to get a better view of the everlasting day.
Sincerely,
Robbie Wilson
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
It's not the rain
that makes her
wet this time, again
conveying it
to him without
any dillydallying,
revealing her
intentions in
such plain terms
with a sign
language
invented, all
by herself,
leaves the mark
of the genius on this
woman, deeply
in love and lusting
her man,plain and simple.
*** robust uppermost
in the mind.prompts
yes, bold she is,
she takes things
in her hands at times.
She needs to stamp
her nature
unequivocally,
and she does it in style.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
If 20 plus years ago I had 2020 vision
Into the future would I make the same decision?
I married you feeling this could not be wrong
With 2020 vision would our love last long?
3 years into our life you chose another
I pleaded and begged while you stayed with your mother
You chose me because I fought with all my might
and stayed with me again, I got to hold you at night
If I had 2020 sight of what would take place
Would I do it again if that couldn’t be erased?
8 years in we said hello to our baby girl
It changed our hearts she is a pearl
She was perfect there is no other I would pick
Little did we know that our little one was so sick
If I had 2020 sight of what would happen
Would I change any of my actions?
11 years in we said hello to another
Our hearts expanded we wanted to smother
If I had 2020 sight then
Would I do it again?
20 years in you were diagnosed with cancer
5 surgeries later and chemo was the answer
Holding you hand while they pumped it in your veins
Crying with you as your hair fell out clogging the drain
2020 sight into the future would I still do this?
All the pain I could then miss.
Now it is the year 2020
My pain I’m feeling plenty
Knocking me to my knees
Because you said you no longer love me
A cut that cannot ever be sutured
If I had 2020 vision into the future
Would I do it again?
If you knew me then you would not have to guess
My answer to all of it is unequivocally yes
Defective Words
Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 12:47 AM UTC
His eyes are revolting,
colorless and dull.
Yet there’s something that makes them
unequivocally nauseating.
When I look through these windows,
I see that lust and greed have joined hands
with revenge and apathy
to form a being capable of no earnest good.
The most horrifying trait of his eyes,
is not the color,
nor the size,
nor the dilation,
but
how ******* reflective they are.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
With lift-off intention I jumped to fly.
I was something like root grounded tree.
Taking flight was so absolutely hard,
though my guru counseled me.
With acquired and studied implements
I tried to cut each holding.
My intellect in truth was rather dull,
though Spirit bolding.
In hieroglyphic's manual page 222
I intuited hints, incantations true.
Here for scheming:
Fly-O Fly-O Fly Fly-O!
I recited that fortissimo for a week
in lucid dreaming.
Then my weighed body, my un-weighed soul
together I suppose remembered it simply,
that God had intimated flight for me
(gratuitously gave).
In classical mind's eye I spied
Icarus sploshing in a wave.
Entered in-- Ab-or-ig-inal Self.
Whoa, I said, hello!
shocked at that showing.
I know... I know... I know...
with ease -- be natural, just be still.
Unequivocally state
(this way make your start)
I need help.
so I believed it
I spoke it
and then I sailed and sailed away
with freedom, my heart.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 7:05 AM UTC
On the pulse of mourning,
we gather to salute you.
To eat from your plate of wisdom
and love. A purely magnificent
symbol of an earthly mother
and teacher. You are no doubt
unequivocally that phenomenal
woman; a woman of substance,
elegance, empowerment,
encouragement, strength, courage,
love, influential, giving,
understanding, peaceful, nurturing,
caring, independent thinker, motherly,
activist and poet. You have filled
our cup up with joy. You have instilled
in all of us that through your
imperfections and life's hurdles;
we too can survive. That we should
not be caged and to do unto others
what we would like others to do
unto us. Whereas to walk on the right
path of good, we will be rewarded
in gold. You were a mother to all
of us. You carried us and lifted
us when we were down but still
continue to do, through your poems
and writings. I have a dream! As we
all do, to walk in the presence of a
Queen - Maya Angelou. I am your
son spiritually, as you are a motherly
goddess, which I or we (your adopted
spiritual children) aspire to walk in
the graces of. You brought such hope
and fortitude into the lives you've
touched and inspired. That we now say,
thank you! Thank you for being that
phenomenal woman. We mourn you
no more but now sing to celebrate
your life.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
I am
NOT
Who YOU
Say I am
I am
ME
UnEquivocally
Now Tell ME
What YOU see
In YOU
NOT me
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 1:42 AM UTC
(a quid pro quo plug for zaftig women)
women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle
akin to puppy chasing her/his tail
or require digital scale,
at the extreme alt right registering heavy
ba Jill 'en Jack knifed pail loads
whether young or old ought to be appreciated
not waifer thin self starved as a rail,
instead they suffer unfair injustice
like a trapped quivering quail
thus this fatalistic, generic,
and holistic landlubber
wanted to point head lee
hammer home one secure
heterosexual ******* stronger than
omnipotent Marcy's Playground
weather beaten pail
Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail
into the coffin of bias
against bevy of beautiful babes
within the mind of this male,
who inherited genetic predisposition
for being average, hearty and hale
yet feel compassion for those engaged
in an ongoing with battle of the bulge,
hmm... perhaps hiding ample *****
akin to milky sopping wet grail
or accepted unequivocally themselves
without envy of lithesome women,
who seem to possess flair with nary a flail
yet possess much love to avail,
and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally
despite premium aesthetics considered svelte
which mass media accentuates de facto spelt
definition of femininity aka runway models
donned in faux animal pelt
whose deliberate self exhibition
prompts madding crowd of man
to waggle tongue with slack jaws
as if ready to melt
or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt
drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
Cascades, cascades
Veils of rain
Never ending, Never rending
Faith in pain
To see is to explore
in the dim lit night
To see I implore
by hidden moon light
to the ways of the waves
as the rain cascades
on umbrella's held high
but only semi-dry
are the eyes and the sighs
and the little black ties
on doorknobs unlocked
precariously ensconced
those cries of pain
by the pouring rain
Unexplained
Unrestrained
Unexplicitly refrained
When the cloud flies
The crowd sighs
And the children unequivocally
sing
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 1:48 AM UTC
When your eye first caught,
a passing glimpse of mine,
all the world was not
in response to you, divine
If my love, by you were to be received
hand in hand, pulled in tactile knots
a love story, to write and to read
all other essences forgot
Join me, as one essence
conviviality of our arms
to watch a moving picture, mesmerized by luminescence
unequivocally present, a moon and its stars
Walk down our favorite street with me,
as I jump on the red fall leaves
my radiant smile back at you, sweet
a kiss forever carefree.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
If gloom descends; Capsicum appends:
Removing dooms in plumes of red lumens.
Biological conversion from stagnation to movement.
Shaman, brother, lover, friend.
Bold holistic resolute.
Unequivocally coalesced in this; a magnificent fruit.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 10:58 PM UTC
When all my blood is estranged
Is it then that I become deranged?
Already self-loathing and anti-family
So maybe I can’t stand my own genetics
Perhaps I see myself as unequivocally cunty
And maybe I cannot stand the things that made me
Is this what makes one deranged?
Self-destructive and anti-happy
When all the blood is estranged
And the world is just animals
To be coldly devoured. . .
This seems to me quite deranged
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
I have looked upon the latter
but much prefer the former.
Memo:
take a letter
to my parliamentary candidate stating unequivocally
that this life's not the life for me
and could he see a way to see
a brighter
lighter
future for me.
But my candidate can oft' be seen
at Weatherspoons in
Bethnal Green
supping on a pint of ale
(and then I wonder why I fail)
So it's down to me
to make a future I can see
the storm clouds brewing.
Chewing on a blade of grass
I pass the hat around.
Opportunities abound and I must leap
to keep another date
with some politician on the make.
The doorbell chimes a memory of better times
the postman brings me several letters
one from 'Zetters'
(8 draws on the football pool)
I'm off to celebrate.
The parliamentary candidate can kiss my ****
he's just a fool
and now I'm as rich as Midas
you may find me somewhere by a sea
where I once pinned my dreams upon those flowing streams
just to see if they would float.
but now I'll buy a boat and sail away
this is my day
And as a postscript I must write:
I've never been happy with the man they chose
To represent me behind closed doors
and plan my life.
Now my life is planned atop the ocean's wave
and so I wave goodbye
don't cry
I won't.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 6:41 AM UTC
at any moment the reality that I have spent my life creating
will collapse into a thousand pieces, blanketing the ground
in fragments (of desires
that have lulled me to sleep at night with the hum of half-formed expectations)
only to be replaced with an undefinable hybrid emotion;
equal parts loss and anticipation.
I find my words inappropriately, overwhelmingly, unequivocally
inadequate
to describe something that could mean
everything &(or) nothing at all.
This is the way that you make me feel.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
On some verdant green hill far away in cute little Palestine of old
Before the Israelis marched in and bunged out the owners
Jesus was hanging about on the cross not feeling too happy
I suppose he was dying for you and me because his Dad was asleep
And he doesn't care if you are a ****** or a giant or a fatty or a fairy!
Yessir! He loves everyone unequivocally provided they praise him endlessly
And receive him in their souls and sing him a load of ****** hymns!
But if you don't receive the LORD and reject the words of the EVIL ONE
He (God) will crush you totally and utterly like a blue-tailed fly
Squatting on a well-used and ill-cleaned second-hand lavatory brush
Without any exception whatsoever even if you are an ugly fat dwarf
As He don't hold with no discrimination nor positive action no way!
So get down on your knees (a shorter journey for amputees with stumps)
And get praying to THE LORD without blinking twice. Yeeha! Amen!
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
No other pair of lips would ever so deftly express
the lingo of love, my lips would covet, each passing moment,
no searing kiss ever sent waves of tumult, more than your's
that to my blood, spoke in an unequivocally bold tone,made it boil in lust,
heaven is not just a figment of imagination, as skeptics would tell us,
when we met, nectar secreted every moment, how would we forget?
Never would I let you leave my heart, you robbed,at the very first sight.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
I have discovered myself to be lost in shimmering puddles of an ancient dream where the recollections
of an acoustic guitar delve into the depths of an autumn sky.
They are unequivocally related to damp wellington boots, butterscotch and bacon.
At last, I have balanced upon the glorious edge of unfathomable childhood rituals where esoteric plantations are shrouded by a hedge of Britannic history.
So, as you seek to slide down the steep and icy pathway into the park, make sure that you return by 9 o’clock in the evening because the black nun wanders around those ghostly woodlands where religious buildings remain to be sunk into historical graves.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC