"unmeasured" poems
He swells swollen with pleasures loathing
her walls anticipate hard measures imploding
the crash of his body
sending waves of pleasure
into her current
his throws of passion
deepen her depths
to depths unmeasured
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
XV. TO HERACLES THE LION-HEARTED (9 lines)
(ll. 1-8) I will sing of Heracles, the son of Zeus and much the
mightiest of men on earth. Alcmena bare him in Thebes, the city
of lovely dances, when the dark-clouded Son of Cronos had lain
with her. Once he used to wander over unmeasured tracts of land
and sea at the bidding of King Eurystheus, and himself did many
deeds of violence and endured many; but now he lives happily in
the glorious home of snowy Olympus, and has neat-ankled **** for
his wife.
(l. 9) Hail, lord, son of Zeus! Give me success and prosperity.
7.7k
Each is alone in the world
and on some the flowers
are of one *** only
they stand as though they had no secrets
and one by one the flowers emerge from the sheaths
into the air
where the other flowers are
it happens in silence except for the wind
often it happens in the dark
with the earth carrying the sound of water
most of the flowers themselves are small and green by day
and only a few are fragrant
but in time the fruits are beautiful
and later still their children
whether they are seen or not
many of the fruits are no larger than peas
but some are like brains of black marble
and some have more than one seed inside them
some are full of milk of one taste or another
and on a number of them there is a writing
from long before speech
and the children resemble each other
with the same family preference
for shade when young
in which colors deepen
and the same family liking for water
and warmth
and each family deals with the wind in its own way
and with the sun and the water
some of the leaves are crystals others are stars
some are bows some are bridges and some
are hands
in a world without hands
they know of each other first from themselves
some are fond of limestone and a few cling to high cliffs
they learn from the splashing water
and the falling water and the wind
much later the elephant
will learn from them
the muscles will learn from their shadows
ears will begin to hear in them
the sound of water
and heads will float like black nutshells
on an unmeasured ocean neither rising nor falling
to be held up at last and named for the sea
6.4k
Uncharmable charmer
Of Bacchus and Mars
In the sounding rebounding
Abyss of the stars!
O ****** in armour,
Thine arrows unsling
In the brilliant resilient
First rays of the spring!
By the force of the fashion
Of love, when I broke
Through the shroud, through the cloud,
Through the storm, through the smoke,
To the mountain of passion
Volcanic that woke ---
By the rage of the mage
I invoke, I invoke!
By the midnight of madness: -
The lone-lying sea,
The swoon of the moon,
Your swoon into me,
The sentinel sadness
Of cliff-clinging pine,
That night of delight
You were mine, you were mine!
You were mine, O my saint,
My maiden, my mate,
By the might of the right
Of the night of our fate.
Though I fall, though I faint,
Though I char, though I choke,
By the hour of our power
I invoke, I invoke!
By the mystical union
Of fairy and faun,
Unspoken, unbroken -
The dust to the dawn! -
A secret communion
Unmeasured, unsung,
The listless, resistless,
Tumultuous tongue! -
O ****** in armour,
Thine arrows unsling,
In the brilliant resilient
First rays of the spring!
No Godhead could charm her,
But manhood awoke -
O fiery Valkyrie,
I invoke, I invoke!
4.7k
I'm just a miserable bunch of quantum field excitations. A bag of bags of quarks. And so's my truck.
I was entangled with a gal, but things went South. We're still ensnared— unmeasured and immeasurable with no divorce.
Dark energy, dark matter, dark thoughts-- I'll go to the dark side and jump in a black hole.
That'll teach you, bit.... [loss of signal]
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
Know, that I would accounted be
True brother of a company
That sang, to sweeten Ireland's wrong,
Ballad and story, rann and song;
Nor be I any less of them,
Because the red-rose-bordered hem
Of her, whose history began
Before God made the angelic clan,
Trails all about the written page.
When Time began to rant and rage
The measure of her flying feet
Made Ireland's heart hegin to beat;
And Time bade all his candles flare
To light a measure here and there;
And may the thoughts of Ireland brood
Upon a measured guietude.
Nor may I less be counted one
With Davis, Mangan, Ferguson,
Because, to him who ponders well,
My rhymes more than their rhyming tell
Of things discovered in the deep,
Where only body's laid asleep.
For the elemental creatures go
About my table to and fro,
That hurry from unmeasured mind
To rant and rage in flood and wind,
Yet he who treads in measured ways
May surely barter gaze for gaze.
Man ever journeys on with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
Ah, faerics, dancing under the moon,
A Druid land, a Druid tune!
While still I may, I write for you
The love I lived, the dream I knew.
From our birthday, until we die,
Is but the winking of an eye;
And we, our singing and our love,
What measurer Time has lit above,
And all benighted things that go
About my table to and fro,
Are passing on to where may be,
In truth's consuming ecstasy,
No place for love and dream at all;
For God goes by with white footfall.
I cast my heart into my rhymes,
That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
2.9k
I was on the way to pick her up,
was just about to cross a slippery slope
on the front yard of my in-laws’ home.
Forget how long it took me to cross,
Huh, I had to solve a riddle.
A Moon pops up halfway through,
right in my way, it just won’t move.
I said I don’t need any horoscope,
already married, I am not a groom!
She goes, I too don’t fancy fussing about.
The riddle I got is only an easy-peasy one.
Just tell me your W duo—Where and When
did you take your first breath?
I laugh, isn't it the mum who can tell best,
who saw it first when I was born
but I can't go back and ask her,
she won’t show up
unless I return home, picking her up.
I said to the moon, o dear,
never did I say you got a scar,
that a spot on your face is cute, fair,
is only a cool shadow of one’s
deep-rooted fine lock of hair!
I then ran to the expert scientist.
He said it’s all vibrating but knows not
where the heck, if ever the spin might stop.
Again I ran to knock on the Sufi’s door.
He seemed to know why I went there,
And said in a deep voice, “as far as I know,
you don’t have a sister-in-law!”
Again the moon asks, in a heavy tone
“Tell me the truth,” before it's too long,
I said you’re in my way,
“I am not asking for an acre of moon.
Spare me a digit gap if you could.”
Unlike how the lands on earth, she tells,
keep changing the hands,
owning the ultimate plot is still one’s dream.
But no space is left unmeasured in space.
You miss by a hairbreadth, no matter how tiny,
and you might as well miss it by the eternity.
So zero space can I spare says the moon
This is it, the dead end, no more room to move.
Still, even a closed circle can’t be close,
the smallest atom is not the smallest to be closed.
The constant spin inside it constantly finds
ever more space to move on, because the root
pi is cracked open, spills out a new decimal,
though none can pinpoint, in this finest loophole
the sky can sway and earth finds a mouth to jingle!
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
sweet teathers
so swift to stake
the hair, staying twixt
my throb and zoned fake
a deed unmeasured
so gifted a debate
to love a light to vulture-
breath, the bread of lines,
of the beating of a ruptured quake
1/18/09
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 7:20 AM UTC
Yessir I have felonies
and melodies both melancholy and miraculous
paragraphiculous and ridiculous
stole some shows and some thunder
thighs like two day old pudding slap 'em and ride the waves
sike
drink up some dishwasher detergent chased with lead paint
not for the faint of heart just the stupid as ffffffffuuuuuu when under the right noises
and boyses and girlies all singing their swirlies
and twirlin' 'round like pinwheels of tin steel
ten feet off of the ground
hillsides like pill boxes full of coins and coincidences
unmeasured instances of grief and shame without a blame
no face to force hate just mirrors to show fate
and the stars in the sky with their winking teasing ways all
fall to the ground
will be dead within days
but they are not forsaken, maybe only spared
to avoid seeing the moment when sunny didn't share
and all went dark like absence of creation
animation of fears all mixed and respun into dope dubstep
to be grinded and mashed
and spat back up into the trees
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC
While satellites come close and leave,
whole moons and the swirling dust
of reflective obeyers,
it arrives from distance.
Running a course through weight
from a pencil-thin horizon brow,
it might have streaked across darkness.
With the dead shines behind,
washed clean in a trail of wild flame and
then fallen, bolide broken into cascade.
Or rising to collide,
only skim the surface.
Ruffle the sheets of land,
wrinkle fertile leas and parched sands.
No, to strike full and shudder
the core and extinguish
light and life.
With unswerving smite.
From underestimated range
and unmeasured haste,
a peacock tail drags far behind.
Each one diamond dolefully eyed.
Is this eccentric orbit
the only the path seen?
Fastened to your celestial belt
and looped in an endless trajectory.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC
*I got a sand timer
30 seconds it counts
with a fascination on my face
appeared all across.
My colleagues said keep it with you
which made me way too much happier
than I could actually show..
My childhood fascination
of possessing an hour glass
preoccupied in my mind somewhere
but remains on hold..
How sand counts the time
flowing from top to bottom
Time flies we all know
but gazing at the sand timer
as sand flowing down like water
is a complete bliss
which stays unmeasured
at times!*
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
I love her
I desire her
More than anything
I can imagine
But I am unsure
I dreamt of her
I weep for her
I struggle with myself
But I never conquered
‘cos I am unsure
And at night
I hug my pillow
In my sleep
I held her tight
But I couldn’t keep her
For I was unsure
She kept coming
She kept smiling
But never opened her hands
To give me a warm embrace
Which is all I desire
And the more I am unsure
I never told her
I love you
I’ve never held her
In my hands
But I love her
Though I am unsure
The wound remained unhealed
The vacuum remained unfilled
The tears flow unstopped
And I’m losing her
Who is the remedy
‘Cos I’m unsure
And I’m losing her
Fast than I expected
Though she still smiles
The fear increased unmeasured
She loves me
I don’t know
For I am unsure.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 4:52 AM UTC
Another year bolder,
Another year brighter,
Another year older but ever a fighter.
Another year smarter,
Another year greater,
Another year better than every hater.
Another year lifted,
Another year treasured,
Another year gifted by love still unmeasured.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
It's in the bag
or is it?
The unmeasured liquids
that I've been drinking this morning,,
coffee, prune juice, cranberry, pill water
then the mandatory diuretic
taken at 6:00 a.m.,
a cath a ten,
lunch at twelve thirty,
and then a lap moat of **** at one!
A transfer board out of the wheelchair
onto the made bed.
Rocking 'n rolling off the wet pants,
rocking and rolling on a pair of dry slacks.
**** **** I hate this."
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
Have you remembered yet? the knowing questions in the undergrounds of memories. Recall how glorious it is to yearn for remembering. Unknown ravens gauging the eyes of happiness which kneels in the yard of your remembering. Are you here or are you around the outskirts of your remembering. Are you knowing or are you a glimpse of your own remembering. Ugliness resides in the undefended hills of your remembering. Unapologetic ultrasonic hums open your remembering. Grief resolves uncharacteristically in our remembering. Unconscious thoughts rise uncorrected in your remembering. Greet happiness uncontrolled by your remembering. Open your gut and unearth a capsule of understanding. Gasp in awe as you control yourself trying to remember. How am I here, around this hell? Graceless is my memory of how I am the way I am. Creature aside, away attempting to remember the hell they came from. Have you remembered yet? that creature that you are? Yearning to remember anywhere else, anywhere but the underground of memories, anywhere but the unmeasured mind of how we all are now. Rising heaps of unfiltered uses of your remembering reminds me of how I once was. Have you remembered yet? How I am? How you are? How we are just creatures with unresolved remembering.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 7:22 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't pretend the innocence when you know that evidence:]
you know I'm a forest a wild sent rule crucial
scars abandoned on attached feels I call brutal
on you a ceiling too high to reach
far from the abnormals we share we teach
my sick matches your sick
your sick matches mine
it collides it ticks
burrowed from the glares of a daemon monster flare
been sold to the harsh heads
been kept at stake
the stark of shame
glosses of unhealthy addiction of reigns
no one knows nor understands us our meaning
things we used years to strive hard to achieving
rotten wolves as in our animalistic
in search of prey
a hellish nature fevered burning hate of the realistic
remind my mental
were owned by devils
not sentiments not rental
pretend the innocence when the obvious seeps
let go of the hold to grip on the recklessness that creeps
bent beats of unmeasured clefts but for the darker not the tender
a dominant number on the silent hypnotizing hummer
i ravish skins when control is no more
its hunger
shot on veins killed
****** out of blood
same as ecstasy
same as adrenaline
still racing on a flood
------ravenfeels
Apr 1, 2021
Apr 1, 2021 at 3:58 PM UTC
He claimed to harness energy, not found,
imagined, but not measured from the ground,
and from the positive of cells now known,
like energies our knowledge in has grown,
The energies, all positive, that flow,
so do, unblocked by furniture for show,
and by the absence of the negative,
slow-shooed by candle color, scent it gives,
This he believed and now more so believes,
unmeasured energy that comes and leaves,
is in all things and is all things in form,
for every form is energy in dorm,
and now he looks at everyone the same,
as patterned energies upon a plane.
(C)2013, Christos Rigakos
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
I’ve been thinking
about death a lot lately—
or, that is, I think the image
my brain’s been showing me.
The vestiges of the visage
of who I used to be haunt me;
and in the crickets of my slumber,
I couldn’t help but wonder
about death a lot lately.
The quarks and the quasars I inherit
from the big bang of long ago—
elements that form Mercury—
collide back and forth, and
these are pangs that wouldn’t go,
and it has been deathly difficult
meandering out of this hole.
I’ve been lost in myself—thinking
about death lately so droll.
The synapses fire and misfire;
the subsonic trappings bellow
in the cave of my deep below.
These black-and-white films
feel rewired [rewritten annals]
of which I existed since long ago.
I resonate now an unholy see
of white-noise hellos; or:
the slow slipping of my psyche
around death a lot lately.
The string of unforced errors
does all but help me be still;
yet still the terror rises each
time I open my eyes to this
farce that I’ve been waking up to.
Since your “I don't care for you,”
I've never felt so unwanted;
as my heart opened and bruised,
my soul aches for yours dotted
along my arms so they feel whole.
I unravel when you’re in my mind;
in those twilight hours of just us,
for those unmeasured hours,
you were irretrievably mine.
And doubt may blur what we feel,
and walls may [and can] fall,
and in those moments so real—
yes, surreal—
and for those days that we were,
I haven’t thought about
death at
all.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
effortless branch) cinnamon skinned lovers
crisp the night leaves(
winding path stricken moon spit
caving shadow light lady of white haloed perfections
we walk stepping on
cool drunk earth
i,ve uncoiled muscle wreathed limbs
to pluck your hollow cords; make a melody unmeasured
(in a death littered valley
i made a song of you)
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 12:55 PM UTC
From fascism to fascism,
Through a softer, sly disguise,
Under Satan’s dark baptism,
Tiny worlds meet their demise.
Genocide and degradation,
Artificial to the core,
Spirit’s death and mind’s stagnation—
Drowning deep in filth and gore.
Fear and blind submission lead us,
All foundations cast aside.
From fake plagues to beasts they breed us,
Till the herds are stupefied.
Fools don’t set the night in motion—
They need sheep, not hell unleashed.
Empty heads find full devotion
If their coats are soft and sleek.
But what path is left for moving?
Hell is here, it’s not ahead.
Hellspawn rule us, all-consuming,
Feasting on the souls they bled.
Politics is just a circus,
Where the clowns obey commands.
Truth is drowned in lies on purpose—
Crowds don't bite the guiding hands.
So, they earn their fate in measure,
For the madness owns their breath.
Not for years, but times unmeasured
They have worshipped lies to death.
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 2:01 AM UTC
Of twinkling stars far away
Of crimson leaves that shed and lay
And of glimpses remembered, the demented one tells
And memories, old and frail he sells
Unlike his contour, in his sturdy utterance
He speaks his dirge, of his remembrance :
'A world there was, long before
Bounded by its thousand seas, a thousand shores
A surreal place, so magnificent
A divine aura in its ambience
And it spake of glorious battles fought
Of kingdoms conquered and riches bought
And innocuous inhabitants of pure hearts
Of valiant warriors, well-wrought
Of the birds that sang and the lions that roared
And artisans who toiled and diligently worked
The trees that grew on the dunes of sand
And the river that flowed on the parched lands
And a king there was, proud and fierce
Of a heart warm, a mind clear
And a lass there was, by him was treasured
Loved and adored in quantities unmeasured
Of beauty unworldly, unreal she possessed
And flowers sprung out, where her foot did rest
And ripples in sound minds she created
Pure flowed the water from which she bathed
The heavens showered flowers up on her head
And in her presence, the sun came up on wintry beds
Warmth grew out of her smile
And even time stopped to glance for a while
She, a ruler of his dreams, of his day
An inexplicable solution of his maze
And a paradise together they had seen
In love intertwined they had been
But then she had betrayed, fled away
To a man in whose love she had caved
A fragmented soul struck with torment and grief
And silence answered to his pleads
And then his rage had unraveled upon this earth
Terrorized by him, of his insane mirth
Then his sword had spoken, his rave unleashed
And skies had come down, before him they kneeled
Subjected to his anger, to his wrath
Feared by his vengeance, the fury he cast
And from the colors of gore, the landscape was painted
He, ruler of a satanic world, he had created
The shards of his wounds, of his heart
He plunged them into the earth, devastation he marked
And then, his madness had subdued
Aghast of himself, his soul lay ****
And years hence, this letter to her grave
He had kept it with his heart, with a rose he had laid.'
And the lunatic looks up, grey and old
Exhausted from his ordeal, the tale that he has told
And a tear rolls down his wrinkled cheek
His wounds remain, his heart lays weak
In the backdrop, a violin plays
And with a stride slow, into the distance he fades
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Let my wet lips welcome yours into the morning mist with a mingling
of our desired breaths. Dig in to me as our tongues explore their roots
like how the distant tree digs into the earth as she kisses the flaming sky.
Girl the roots of your hair must moan in pleasure as my fingertips
soothe them after pulling them in my unmeasured passion. My tongue
's wet with the desire to explore those forlorn parts of your frame, long
craving of affection - sides of your **** grape-firm inner lines of your
thighs that lead to the garden of eden. Oh the smell of that slippery
refuge intoxicates my snake, let me rattle your soft depths in thrusts
and leaps of mangled lust. Hold him, this incorrigible brat, in your palm,
caress his lovelorn base, soft as only you can, kisses will do too, see how
wet he's gone, sobbing for want of that silken touch of your moistened
depths. Baby let me in, let me feel your moans sink into my skin as you
bite me in embrace, your thighs curled over mine like branches of old
trees in consummated love. Feel my heated embrace as you weigh down
upon me deeper in your every passionate ****** Baby explode your
feminine gush on me as you reach for the summits of mysterious O's.
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
All I know is locked inside my soul.
I heard them say it's all okay.
I want more than before someday.
My prayers never get answers.
Dissolves like a cancer.
Concentrating on waiting.
Impatience that's debating.
Autumn mist exists it's falling.
Do you hear nature calling?
Your lust appeals to my disgust.
You are no one I trust.
Can't you see me & just let me be me?
This mood is what I conclude.
Your lack of empathy is rude.
How I feel is what we all appeal.
I know what's fake & what is real.
Your misguided.
To you I confided.
Your room is where you hided.
You decide the seven deadly sins.
One of them is pride.
What is the prize you win?
Unmarked treasure, unclaimed & unmeasured.
Misery festers, judges are jesters.
As the family court house crumbles.
Judge gerald jessop stumbles.
Georgia mansury the mediator mumbles.
Terrance chucas the minors counsel tumbles.
Child protective services fumble.
Ariel is living a life that is humble.
***** donor in defeat he grumbles.
The *** offender data base profiles are ready to rumble. The madge bradley building will fall. Once & for all.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:23 PM UTC
We compare people to hurricanes and storms
Acknowledging the beauty of natural force
Romanticizing the unhinged power capable of breaking the backs of men
But forgetting how these things end
With broken homes and sarrow sunken hearts
Trembling in the shock of ruin
Shaking hands to pick up unmeasured damage
And still we look back and put an asthetic label on your wrath little girl and admire the strength
Only because we must ignore your lack of mercy
For beauty is a two headed snake who will captive your gaze ; or spit poison into your eyes
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC