"validates" poems
all aluminum alloy ammo
bane bat brakes badly basters back bones
come call cthulhu Cristo cuz
dead ********** dominate de download
even elven eternal endowments
fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence
grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity
how hella homeboys have how he has
If I ignore I implicate its implore
jack jacks jacks
kay killla kooks krack
LAPD locks la lackeys
maybe mom made mad monoxide
no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes
oh over overt opp only overlay orphic
please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity
quiet quivers quiet queens
remember rage reaps reciprocity
so sour sits supplanters sat
to tell them to tare trail *** tat?
universal unhappiness underlays under us
victory validates victors vanity
why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting
x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea
you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish
zero zag zealots zoos
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
There is a love that goes beyond passion. Beyond desire.
A love that is felt within the very fiber of the soul.
One with ardent, inexorable devotion.
A love of imperceptible depth, and intense adoration.
There is a love as unyielding in its fervency,
As it is in its sanctity.
A love that is immutable, and enduring.
There is a love that sustains and validates one's existence.
A love that is uncompromising in it's absolutness.
There is a love that leads one to their destiny.
One that is incomprehensible. Without concession.
A love that holds the heart in passionate seduction.
There is a love that is timeless and unending.
A love that is unyielding in it's conviction.
There is a love with irreducible and fierce conviction.
A love with immeasurable compassion.
And that love, is the love I hold for you.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC
When I'm with other people
Their mere presence reflects my character
Their strength validates me as an individual
Friends sneak away and doubt creeps in
Who am I without my companion justifiers?
Nobody
So I'm going to build an army
And we're going to storm the walls of hatred
They'll throw their bombs
****** ****** ****
Usually more specialized weapons appear as well
All trying to use shame to strip us of our very humanity
We disarm their shame with pride
Not pride in the way one is born or lives
But pride in the face of those who tell us we should feel ashamed
Those hate filled walls will be trampled by our friendship
Once we've infiltrated the pitch black city
We'll seize their holy temple
And find me
Naked, crying, alone
We'll pick me up and dust me off
After all, I have an army to build
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
It is the mundanity of the act,
of envisioning your hand gently wrapped around the copper kettle.
Obstinately gripping the pen, while you wring a sheet of paper dry for the right words.
You, cupping my face as if you were holding something precious.
As if I might slip through your fingers.
It is this devastating simplicity that obliterates every shard of my being.
A brick wall, left at the mercy of a gleaming sledgehammer
that is determined to turn everything to dust.
I see your hands everywhere.
In the haze of steam and shower curtains,
the lines dragged in velvet throw pillows,
the cloudy smudges left on a glass of water.
They run faint paths through my hair, their touch ghosts against my eyelid.
If I stare long enough,
your palm is right there, pressing into mine.
Silver cuts through the air and delivers a redundant blow.
The dust scatters once more.
You did not leave a hole
the way everyone said you were bound to.
Empty space cannot exist without everything that surrounds it, yields to it, forgives it,
validates its gaping hollowness.
Empty space is a needle and thread on the dresser, a sellotape dispenser on the desk, a container of soup left on the doorstep with a get-well-soon scribbled on the lid.
Empty space is where you can see remnants of what once was whole.
The faith and conviction that bit by bit, you will put your fragmented pieces back together again.
The nothing you left was so thick and suffocating
that it permeated every room,
filled my lungs to bursting capacity and left me gasping for more.
Its sickly, bitter fragrance danced relentlessly in my nostrils,
as though my suffering was the sweetest symphony ever heard.
It waltzed until I could feel it rising in my throat and leaking from my eyes,
twirled until my head spun.
The nothing you left insisted on making its presence known my every waking moment
and then gleefully romped its way into my nightmares.
It was so quiet, though.
A resigned quiet, like that of the ****** swinging in the gallows,
when everybody holds their breath to watch the pendulum sway.
The crossbeam glistens with last night’s rain and
they trudge back home, muttering to themselves as the dust settles beneath their feet.
I sink into sheets creased by your fingers and watch it sway.
Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 6:45 AM UTC
living particles
made of color
hang light
on top of an unknown
mountain
I do not have any space of time to cry
because I maybe miss you
there you stand right in front of me
at a distance that I can see
a clearing made for us is made of us
a stage of well fit grass circling us
you stand strong long hair maybe
a suit resembling iron
a suit that is a part of your being
you a warrior from timeless time
you came to me now
to stand across me
your gaze
that I surrender to
validates each particle
I am composed of
at rest is I innocent
pure balance
of peace and of joy
magnetic is our love
all the static is you
airy converting all the temporary is I
your endless silent gaze is now
our unconditional presence
made of a posture of standing is one
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
A big, dark creature is the velvet landscape,
Perforated, so that tiny origins of luminescence
Freckle the breathing mountain’s gently sloped nape
And validates the distant city’s inner flamboyance.
The spine of wet tar, peppered with lustre,
Arcs the creature’s hunch of a back -
It summons me to the city’s sordid muster
To wean me of myself and to render its flak.
Instead, I think I’ll stay on the footed side of the nameless beast
Where I can soak in my tatters and be but my own, homeless priest.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
She dances as my chest pulls forward,
Moving does my heart -untoward,
Swinging around, making a gesture,
Is that for me?
She sways my direction...
Validates heart’s inflection,
She’s dancing for me…
Heartfall; she’s dancing, dancing for me,
Heartfall; she’s dancing, dancing for me,
Our bodies a rhythm together,
Energy, excitement and pleasure,
Swing in closer, -a new gesture,
Is that for me?
Her arms round my neck, mouth to my lips,
Swinging her body, swaying her hips,
Our mouth's are together in an ellipse…
Heartfall; she’s dancing, dancing for me,
Heartfall; she’s dancing, dancing for me,
Heartfall; she’s dancing, dancing for me,
Heartfall; she’s dancing, dancing for me,
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
cease and desist in your clockwork ways
I want to scream loud enough to break the glass surrounding you
I'm looking down from above
watching your lights flicker
on
and
off
as you open and shut your eyes
automated movements
searching…
searching…
searching…
error
drunk on influence
lies dripping from your mouth
you are automaton
repetitive movements
tapping thumbs
looking down from above
just like I am
cease and desist in your clockwork ways
if I was to push you in front of a car would you even take notice?
or look in a daze
it is a tragedy to be just "fine"
I want to be terrible
I want to be wonderful
I refuse to be anything in between
fine is not enough
you are not enough
stop walking in circles like they tell you to
if you have to keep walking walk in a square
hell,
go for a triangle
cease and desist in your clockwork ways
you are not cogs
or coils
or gears
or tiny ticks
you are bones
and light
and energy
and blood
and skin
and I could go on forever
you get the idea
so start acting like it
if I am a lightbulb let me be the difference between a prison and a blank slate
trapped in misery
trying our hardest to express
audio visually
the tiny flutters in our hearts
because it's the first time we've felt something
if laying on a couch validates your existence
lay the hell out of that couch
until you can't feel your back or your legs
but **** you're so alive and well
and if laying on a couch doesn't
then what are you doing?
stop walking
start running
validate your existence by breaking out of boxes
running towards the sun
if you need a reminder:
you are alive
and you should start acting like it
cease and desist in your clockwork ways,
human
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
Watching the exchange of two people in love
really validates the small percent of hope
I have left in marriage. It completely overshadows
the bad experiences I've seen between my parents.
You see how she absolutely lights up
when he talks, like the stars have arrived
after a rainy day. For those few moments
of seeing real love, I forgot all my cynical
views and desperately wished I had that exchange.
Hearing him say "This is why I married you"
after she said some intelligent remark about our
parts of speech work sheet, and her smile
spoke all the words unsaid. How so in love she still
is, with this man from their wedding ten years ago, and a kid throughout their ongoing journey. They are a story
so rarely told, and I want to shout to the world that love
remains alive.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
Your hands caress my skin as if I am the most delicate of flowers,
and your mouth retrieves the nectar from within.
You consistently lock eyes with me and express your love so willingly.
That you are so determined to give sweet love to me.
That you promise to do what God intended passionately.
And with that, my temple is yours.
Every motion, every ****** validates this for me.
The rhythm we create arouses me.
You leave marks on the most obvious of places so the world knows you've explored my canvas like Columbus.
Navigating your way from my neck to my inner thigh.
Moments so divine that I still get chills like the coldest day of winter simply thinking of the time we've shared.
And for some reason, you hold my body like you'll never see me again.
Maybe because it's clear that there's someone else.
I know this because at the break of dawn, the only thing I feel with my eyes closed and my naked body buried underneath these sheets with your presence all over me is the warmth of your body disappearing.
Maybe it isn't love. I'll assume that it was never meant to be.
Even with the sweet nothings whispered in my ear and
the vivid memories of you fondling me.
Every single time, you quietly say that you have to go, apologize for the mess you made and you're sorry about leaving.
The ****** escapade you were dying to experience doesn't suffice.
The look in your eyes says enough.
My body you so desperately wanted to see has done no justice if you leave when the sun begins to rise.
I wonder when I will hear the creak from my bedroom door once more, and your heavy footsteps going across my floor.
I wonder if you'll be reminded of how vacant this space has been without you, and how much my body yearns for more rounds with yours.
Sure enough, the next night you realize it was time to start over.
Time to give you exactly what you need.
I guess I confused lust with love making.
21914
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 3:03 AM UTC
Jinx! You owe me a haggis!
Sheep! Sheep! Sheep boing!
I tried to connect the two.
I am glad that someone loves my discursive stuff.
I feel thrilled that someone validates me.
Tell me why again? Why why why not?
Did you mention socks? Why?
You’re a sock! Your face is a sock!
A pair of socks! I laugh!
You didn’t anticipate that one, did you?
I will nevar stop. Nevar.
Yes. An alternate spelling.
Hehehehehehe.
Be bold. Be bold like Leeroy Jenkins.
Yas. Chicken music. Yas.
He was brave, he led the charge.
On monkeys and elders, what was our conclusion?
Monkeys are silly, elders are catnip.
I am silly. This poem is silly.
Hehe. You know what I’m about to say next.
We must keep it a secret.
Sheep! Sheep boing!
Figure out what that pakis-ectomy is.
Yeah? Yeah? Well, you’re a pakis.
I guess that Wyatt Cenac
said it best:
I have to fool you. I am fooling you.
Aeneas, Cooper, Pedro, and Boo.
They are all amicable with each other.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
It’s thunderstorm country around here.
They roam the boiling, hot, southern skies
on legs of lightning, like dark, angry trolls.
My Chinese roommate is impressed with them
because as menacing and mountainous and electrical
as they seem, through the trees whip and the rain
lashes - like special effects - no real damage is done.
Love is like that, a circus briefly coming to town,
that scintillates, palpitates, irritates or validates
- a carney-call with the urgency of a sale.
“Run away and join the show,” it whispers.
Love is both less than it seems and more than it is.
Jul 15, 2022
Jul 15, 2022 at 12:34 PM UTC
We’re the generation that
Validates its existence through memes Everyone can relate with,
Gratifies itself through likes,
Swiping a nod of 'count me in'.
What happened to the times
When two strangers would connect
Over nothing but a smile?
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 3:03 AM UTC
it's 2 AM. you're sitting on the floor of your kitchen wearing the last shirt that still carries his smell. there's an empty ben and jerry's next to you, mascara smudged down your face and stained in your finger's prints.
*anything, i'd do anything for this pain to simply subside. i just want
this pain to go away. please.*
when we have this pain laid heavily our hands, especially when it's all that's left of our relationship, we say we want it to dissipate, but i don't think we do. i think we're lying to ourselves. if we really wanted the pain to go away, we'd erase his voicemail, throw out the tshirt, delete all the text messages, hide the journal punctuated with his name. we'd avoid every sappy love song and every break up song. his name would fade a little with every action, every step in the direction away from the failure of that relationship.
but this isn't what we do.
we sit in his tshirt. we say his name over and over again between midnight sobs. we reread and reread and reread every last text. we listen to the voicemail with shaking hands and a shattering heart. we listen to the songs we sang in the car with him.
saying these things hurt doesn't even begin to explain it.
it's like your heart is on steroids and you can feel it pumping 24/7,
like your whole body is pumping with the loss of him.
it's like someone put magic contacts in your eyes, and you see his face, his smile, his essence everywhere, reminding you of all you lost.
imagine pouring lead into your veins; it's that kind of weight.
it's like someone took a highlighter to your life and is illuminating for you in the brightest yellow all the times he would have been there, as if you didn't already know.
if you've ever seen an apple dipped in liquid nitrogen and thrown on the ground, shattering into a trillion pieces, that is a very good visual for how this feels.
i think we hold onto pain so tightly because it validates our relationship, friendship, experience, or whatever it was that has caused it. everything in you hurts because it happened; it wasn't in our heads or our fantasy or our dream.
it was real.
but it's over now. the good memories, the good days, the good hugs, the good smiles, are fading more and more with every breath. our pain is all we have. we aren't over that relationship yet; we don't want to, we can't say goodbye to that person or the end to the story.
we try to battle the inevitable fade. we grasp tightly onto the pain. we aren't going to feel loved or made special or pursued by that person anymore, all that's left is pain. all we have left of him is pain. so we take what we can get - or rather - what we've been given.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
How is our life’s worth measured?
By offspring, actions, or wealth?
What are the components on the yardstick?
Worrying your value, affects your mental health.
If life is truly worth living
The joy and verve for life emits from within
Emotions are worn on your sleeve
Be at peace, and comfy in your own skin
Why let others conflict our minds?
External factors make us shout with dismay
Put them out of your head
Let Karma and intellect rule the day
Your peers will judge you behind your back,
Live with honor, integrity, and lack of spite
The value of your actions, not consciously rated
Know in your heart, you’ve done what is right.
Die with no regrets hanging over your head,
You can’t take it back when you’re six feet under
Years of life spent with compassion and service of others,
Validates your worth when torn asunder.
For today, live your life with an eye towards passion
Hold on to your ideals, use your heart for decision,
You’ll never go wrong with integrity and trust
You’ll grow old, and be free of ridicule and derision.
Apr 13, 2010
Apr 13, 2010 at 7:23 AM UTC
Upon entering the vast crystal dome
we venture through the endless
that such vile creatures call home.
Before me, occurring a ghastly sight
of those cursed to these depths
are confined to the blackest night.
Embedded into the surrounding walls,
irregularity complicates the network
when one wanders the immortal halls
of a timeless place that captures its victims
to intensify the thoughts inside their head,
eluding the state of true mortem.
With heavy rope held agonizingly tense
woven within their eyes and mouth
blocking all intellection of the sense,
the creatures meander aimlessly forevermore
nervous and cautious of their movements,
bloodied and grimy from the soot-ridden floor.
I question my Lover out of curiosity:
“Why must these souls dwell in a daunting
labyrinth without physical perceptivity?”
And the Lover addressed sweetly: “My one and only,
Greed is a moral infection of the human mind,
be wary of the heart and the desire Lustfully.”
He then turned, and I followed him through
up to a Beast whom I would not dare test
for he validates the lack of your virtues.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
(Intro)
From her I get …
From her I get …
(Vs 1)
She validates my existence
Leaves me always wanting more
I just love her sweet persistence
Yes, she’s the one that I adore
From her I get …
(Chorus)
Action
Main attraction
Chain reaction
Satisfaction
From her I get …
Rainbows
Anything goes
All tomorrows
Only she knows
From her I get …
Laughter
Morning after
To the rafters
Ever after
From her I get …
Kindness
Color blindness
Love that binds us
To remind us
From her I get …
(Vs 2)
Days overwhelmed by stress and strife
My heart was hard my blood ran cold
You shared your warmth and love of life
That day we met when I struck gold
From her I get...
(Chorus)
Sunshine
Beautiful rhyme
Says she’ll be mine
All of the time
From her I get …
Romance
Rhythmic slow dance
Love at first glance
Taking a chance
From her I get …
Blessings
Effervescing
Love confessing
No distressing
From her I get …
True love
Say I do love
From up above
Fits like a glove
From her I get …
(Bridge)
If selfishness precipitates, love will evaporate
Throw caution to the wind then your life will upend
If selfishness precipitates, love will evaporate
How much better at day's end to be found kind
(Vs 3)
Knowing I’d be lost without her
Communication is the key
May God bless our love forever
Our three-fold cord eternally
From her I get …
(Chorus)
Action
Main attraction
Chain reaction
Satisfaction
From her I get …
Rainbows
Anything goes
All tomorrows
Only she knows
From her I get …
Laughter
Morning after
To the rafters
Ever after
From her I get …
Kindness
Color blindness
Love that binds us
To remind us
(Outro)
From her I get …
From her I get …
(Repeat and fade)
Mark Toney © 2023
Sep 2, 2023
Sep 2, 2023 at 10:56 PM UTC
Generic poetry
And a Father who left me
Generic photography
And a Mother who I believe loves me
Fake friends, expensive brands,
Shots of ***** on the kitchen floor
After fumbling around,
Trying to forget about the day that almost killed me.
But how can you die, before being born?
Sometimes I imagine myself trying to commit suicide in the womb,
On the 8th month my Mother was pregnant with me,
The man who never sat me on his shoulders,
Never made my family breakfast,
And never brought me in to 'Bring your Child to Work Day',
walked out of the door and carried with him all the could-haves of my childhood.
Silent panic attacks,
No one validates,
Because they are silent
And not screaming for help
The way my eyes do.
Meltdowns after medicine,
Throwing up,
Being too loud and too proud,
Never seeing past the bedroom door
Because the days were just too much for me to absorb.
Not knowing how to be grateful,
Because all I see is dusk
And dark
And fear
And no light I've ever known.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
(actually, now at present time juiced
well nigh high noon same day)
On this January nineteenth
tooth thousand and nineteen
dogged by an earlier notion
searching soul to glean,
(while at Collegeville Diner)
above place previously wrought
poem hammered from this peon
expounded possibly seen,
asper belated birthday
outing now I mean
to expound upon nagging , yet keen
existential question, sans what purpose
validates yours truly within skien
of terrestrial webbed wide world,
no...no...no not
simply pocketing green
backs (banknotes, legal,
tender, money, et cetera), but now bean
older, and displeasing lee not so lean
when just a slip (pre) youth decades ago
yea, that would be
when I hapt tubby a teen
with nary a concern,
nope not even to preen
myself much to the dismay
of my late mother, nay
no idea why lackadaisical, illogical,
and antithetical bee hay
vee yore prevailed, but more to the point
rarely when young and naive did stray
thoughts besiege my mind,
that LX vintage sketchy,
shady, and seedy gray
area bothered concerning,
hounding, pestering and fill lay
mignon noggin ready toboggan
any price you say
for this staged coached blarney
finding this mortal questioning... ray
zing meaning, purpose,
and underlying importance, gestalt, design...
of life more so today
meaning since recent past
also taking stock of
accomplishments from way
back, and feeling stymied okay
at a loss to delineate
any rhyme or reason
to shout hip...hip hooray
quite the contrary, which following
admission might appear cray zee,
but aye decry barely
living capped off with oy vey!
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
i don't know if i'm phrasing this right but no one in my house validates my feelings; they always kind of brush them off or make me feel like i am irrelevant and don't matter and you know what? i think that is one of the main things that has ****** me over. i watch movies and tv shows and see how ******* compassionate the mothers are with their children and i have never once felt like my feelings even matter to my mother or that she even gives a **** about me or the relationships i have. just because i have only been on this earth for sixteen and a half years doesn't ******* mean i don't have feelings and problems or that i can't feel hurt or depressed or anxious or in love. that doesn't come with age, it comes with being alive. i am just as much of a human being as you are and it breaks whats left of my glass heart and she doesn't even care enough to get the dustpan and sweep it up into the garbage can.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
Smart and as selfish as the Streets
Attracted to those in need and easy to leave
Validates those who compensates generously
Values worship on hands and knees…
Youth ****** eager to succeed in defeat.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 4:27 PM UTC
Pulse:
There’s living and there’s dying, but worst is this half life:
this tap water dripping, slow molding of the
Mind:
It sells me lies about who’s right and wrong,
it validates my dogma but vilifies my
Soul:
That hunger that bubbles up and out my throat,
that sees myself in that wasted *** with that
Sign:
Maybe not a burning bush but a breakdown,
a point so low we used our last energy to let out this
ROAR:
Shake out your heart like a sheet;
take a torch to the hive mind and
Dance:
Spinning in an alley downtown in the rain,
the beat beats beats beats:
Love
is all that matters,
it’s all that matters now.
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC
Perspective is a thing that I stalk....
Like The man atop the hill looking down
Like the man atop the mountain staring up.
You see,to me the immediate middle is the key
You see,the median is the road not the division.
You see,there is no existence sans harmony.
Friends, up creates down.
Left bears right.
In validates out.
You see
I strive for the core.
the root.
the substance of being. My father left a Tin man standing in the rain.
My mother left a straw man pyromaniac.
My god left me.
I did not Leave him.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
"My darling," he said, "I think we've lost our way. Take my hand, you're getting cold."
"I'm drunk and you're sad. Who's going to lead us home?"
The bottles been polished clean and his lips are still shaking. He said he likes to forget but can't, it hurts too much, and he has to sleep with the radio on. Daddy taught him how to shoot, showed him how to ****
"I don't like death," he'd say, walking past the cemetery. "Why must we be so morbid?"
"Death validates life," I'd say, "And morbidity justifies the bruises on your bones."
He sighs."My dear, I fear you may have forgotten, we don't have a home."
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 7:04 AM UTC