"verbs" poems
Words swathe me in calm,
Sentences, paragraphs that soothe.
Viridian verbs burst through the grey,
Taunting me into action-
Seducing me into a delicious dance-
Gypsy girl, swing your sentences my way!
Turquoise adjectives wrap around my wounds,
Embracing my flaws and perfections.
Rough olive skin; somber caesious eyes-
Gypsy girl, with amaranthine scars.
I drape myself over sienna nouns,
Steadfast, supporting me proper, improper, always.
Paper, songs, tree, sky, love, Jami Lee-
Gypsy girl, use your words correctly!
Each turn of a page lures me deeper-
Each spoken rhyme embraces me close-
Jami Lee, sweet little girl, get your head out of the clouds,
And your nose out of a book!
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 9:23 AM UTC
Just how does one define friendship?
Oh, I already know what the Dictionary says.
It's far more than merely one word, or two.
You could apply many verbs to describe it.
Few, on their own will justice due.
It is more about one's emotional perception,
than a mere sentence of words, though descriptive.
For sure it's a feeling, a strong visceral response
evoked by respect, even love of a thing above all other's.
Friends come in many shapes, sizes and colors.
They can be inanimate or living breathing.
All inspire in us a near electrical resonance of reassurance,
a sense of peace, surely comfort. Maybe it starts with
the rhythmic beating of our own mothers heart,
the sound and vibration of our first true friendship.
A little later her breast and the nourishment it gave,
became our first outer world dearest best companion.
Mother's milk, served warm, sweet and tenderly,
Love's personification.
Yes of course Friendship can be an extension of a
strong lasting bond with other people, yet even more.
Our family's are our closest best friends, if we are lucky.
But what of the others?
I have been befriended by books, movies, dogs and
many other non human living friends, I even have
a old film camera I packed completely around the world,
that I count among my closest companions.
A soft warm favorite wool blanket acquired down in
New Zealand, also fits nicely that same description.
An old bamboo fly rod that belonged to my Father,
Is a friend I would not part with for any amount of dollars.
And less I forget (No pun intended) our memories too are
right there, with the best and oldest of our dearest, lasting friends,
Conjured up at a minutes notice.
And perhaps last of all, (you may have more on your list),
I can not leave out the most important friendship of all,
It's the friendship we have with our selves, to which I'm referring.
For if that very personal friendship is not strong and on going,
It's truly doubtful that we will have, or sustain for long, any others.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
Don't "talk ***** to me.
I don't want that,
Not nonchalant naughty nouns,
Or violent verbs,
Or anxious adjectives.
I want to be drippingly adorned and intrigued,
By adjectives that ache and torment,
By verbs that are vibrantly vital and tantalize.
I want to be left longfully lusting after lambent language.
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
I reserved a table for the two of us
at the only restaurant in the world
that not only offers atmosphere and setting
but tone and syntax as well.
First some articles for appetizers. They're
easiest on my pocket you know.
An an, a the, and an a.
Let's not even start on the punctuation,
I'm treating you to a rather large meal.
As large as the entire English language,
now back to the articles.
Sure these taste like lint but they still
taste. Petit fours but there you are.
Try to be disinterested or you'll
put me off my food.
Nouns now. My, what a variety.
Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power.
They taste like a bit of everywhere,
and everyone, and everything.
What's that? Surely they're not that bland.
Maybe you need some seasoning.
"Adjective" comes from the
French for "to the word."
So exotic aren't they? These
really are fantastic.
Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least.
You must admit, they
make the meal worth it.
I hope you're not allergic,
I could have sworn I just
had something "nutty."
Oh, it had nuts "in it"?
There must be some prepositions
mixed in here.
(I'm glad we're getting through
these now, I've never been a big fan of them.
When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end
of my sentences. You just can't do
that in a joint like this, it seems.)
Ah finally. The verbs are served.
Well-prepared it would seem.
Yes, anything you can do to a verb
they've done to these.
Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!),
gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we
did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.)
Fairly lean too, as I can't see
any auxiliary fat.
For some reason
those adverbs (just to your left, under that
thesaurus) really go well with this.
Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly.
Now a brief selection
of conjunctions, but don't ruin
yourself. They're not a meal of themselves,
just a link to...
Oh! Look at those interjections.
So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive.
I told you to keep your appetite.
Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me!
And then everyone proceeds to
die
from a split infinitive.
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
It all begins
With pronouns
I becomes the subject
Of my project
Adding you
And collectively we
I choose you and me
And I exclude the he and the she
Until I am certain of we
You and I pick verbs
actions
Inflect them to match
fit
begin narratives
Transitive verbs take objects
You touch
tickle
tease
taste
take skin
*******
lips
me with words
Words have become a clause
But still a simple construction
So, you tickle me where?
For this you need a preposition
To position your tickling ammunition
Do you touch
tickle
tease me ON my *******
*******
thighs
buttocks
****
Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth
****
soul?
Positioning is envisioning.
Then you use adjectives
To modify descriptions of
Sensory inscriptions
So, gentle complements touch
Soft and passionate kiss
And you become superlative
And adverbs elaborate experience
expression
exploration
You fill me deeply
thoroughly
violently with all that is you
But adverbs can also mean time
Not sweet or cursed time
Or time denoting age
But timing is always important
And grammar dictates
That
Time adverbs are placed
As a beginning or an end
Like a lover's embrace
Thus,
This morning, you woke me with
A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow.
Conjunctions are sentence connectors
And sentences behave like detectors
Bodies balancing with and, but, or
Otherwise subordinate
And the scale tips towards
Conditioning hypotaxis
Making actions a complicated praxis
(before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it)
But we coordinate conjunctions
Equally
I touch you
You touch me
Exploring
Exploding sensory functions
So, together we cry imperatives
Completing our ****** narratives
Moaning
Whimpering
Begging
Yelling: Please... bind me!
touch me!
bite me!
take me!
come!
Oh! Please, come!
I love the English language... ;)
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
She's an alphabet artist
she paints in words,
from a palette of adjectives,
nouns and verbs,
the landscape she finds
in the folds of her mind
she exhibits in volumes of verse.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Life’s about the adjectives,
it’s how we know the world.
Nouns, you see, are only names,
with adjectives - life is knurled.
Think about the apple,
just fruit upon the tree,
red ripe skin with tasty pulp,
better lets us see.
Providing us the texture,
of color if you will,
ADJ allows us space,
to give our lines the fill.
Life’s about the adjectives,
spice for the written line,
Verbs, you see, are motion,
and index things like time.
Think about the race car,
going around the lane,
zipping fast with lightning speed,
better feeds the brain.
Providing us the feeling,
of nature if you will,
ADJ gives the taste,
to writings we distill.
Verbs contain the action,
and nouns have the heart,
adjectives add the flavor,
for cooks of written art.
Life’s about the adjectives,
how else could it be,
that words paint the pigments,
in poems for us to see?
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 3:48 PM UTC
Conjunctions creak, the adverbs ache,
nouns bear more than they can take.
Verbs are screaming for Ben-Gay
while pronouns atrophy away.
Adjectives have lost their bite,
possessives just give up the fight.
The subject's upset, naught agrees,
which weakens metaphoric knees.
Contractions all together moan;
the objects better left alone.
Ah, life is at a frightful stage
when poets and their poems age.
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 5:34 PM UTC
Time is of the sentence, while
verbs reveal their intents
for adjective nouns (pro or no
comment) quickly in vents
meant for air, but coarseness
courses through upturned grates
shredding of courses into no ways
to go from here to home,
awaiting infinitely fine moments
caressed along necks of silken
skin within the wear of stretched out
glances left lingering still
in compassionate ponds rippling
soft warm smiles lazily by
the melting cares of the world
golden in luxuriously wrapped light
playing across the surface & through-
out into emerald encrusted irises
to cast love's shadow over
swamps of fear gurgling neuro-
toxic diatribes against plu-
perfect pasts & future
imprefects presented in a case to
Your Honor's (the jury) out of bounds
dissolved with ear ration-
al solutions mixed & stirred
thoroughly throughout,
without spilling too
much.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 2:35 AM UTC
cemeteries worn
delicately fall on chests
like grandmother's old necklaces
and inscriptions from headstones
draped in cold bronze
bought and sold, their epitaphs
like grandmother's old word
her lovely verbs
swathed in gold,
and ever were costly rhinestones weaved in
until every meaning to her lovely words were lost.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
How many times have I brought to the table
My Island flavors?
How many times have you read
my inner thoughts:
how many times will I share them again and again
It all began in 2004 from the moment I walked in
You wasn’t there and I didn’t really care
You ***** more than a female
you took on a huge responsibility
so you went out and brought the singular noun, pronouns
adjectives, plural verbs, preposition and the infinitives
For a New York minute you should have
brought Heather Taffet the grave digger for security measures
My poesy is my poesy
The sun always seems to be a symbol of life.
and life is worth living.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
burn the light of fire
and wax the ears of injustice.
chide the moon
and bid ado to the reckless sun.
count the blessings of misfortunes
and wave verbs in the air--
breathing the hopeful breaths of married sandals
Label the pains of a billion rain drops and fawn the feathers
of a nightingale over the glory of failed
triumphs known as yesterday.
break the hands of a wristwatch and make a ******* of time--
for through the God in Satan was how Earth was won.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
I would sing to you all the time
the song talking about sunshine and
the lover's lover leaving them for another
and I sang it playfully. Facetiously. Loudly.
Knowing that you would never do that
to me.
But now, I sing it to myself
alone and quiet.
And all verbs in past tense.
Someone took my sunshine
away.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
\ih-SPAHY-uhl\
noun
1. the act of spying.
2. the act of keeping watch; observation.
Quotes
The landlord of the house had not withdrawn his eye from this place of espial for five minutes, and Barney had only just returned from making the communication above related, when Fagin, in the course of his evening's business, came into the bar to inquire after some of his young pupils.
-- Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist, 1838
s
Origin
Espial is related to the word espy, which comes from the German word spähen meaning "to spy." The suffix -al forms nouns from verbs, as in the word refusal.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 8:38 AM UTC
Hi, below I copy a humorous hiabun, which I shared as an exercise to mentor enquiring and inspired poets to learn, so they might adopt and try different techniques and then give critique together with awesome comments... Yes, I used the words *** ****** and **** for context the rest was left to an individual imagination as in good poetry!
It included reflective commentary encompasses innocent classification terminology used in the critique, reading, examining, appreciating, understanding and writing of poetry for example: POETIC DEVICES (enjambement, duality, keriji, images, collocation, semantic, oxymoron, repetition, listing etc.), STORY (personification, characterisation, subject, context, voice etc.), IMAGERY (synaesthesia), STRUCTURE ( lineation, breaks, syntactic etc.), SOUNDS (syllables, rhyme, alliteration, pace, musicality, phrasing, beat, assonance, onomatopoeia, mouthed rhythms, patterned) and WORDS (preposition, determiner, verbs, adverbs, lexical, nouns, adjectives) used by poets, critics and academics...
And here it is :
**** tongue-in-cheek haibun - a reflective commentary on writing a popular tanka
Eye lashes flicker
a shared urgent interest
parting - dancing smile
My first inspiration was *** passionate life squeezing screaming *** the thumping wall musicality of *** exhaustingly inventive sweaty and wet.
I wanted to make it a senryu but for duality the female characterisation demanded two more lines each extending to seven syllables.
Arousing images captured her moaning splashing loneliness in unusual collocation.
I was first excited by the placement of a hovering extended enjambement to give life to my final line, whilst also considering the satisfaction in using noisy mouthed rhythms.
I believe I easily hid the wet aroused context with a watery semantic field, that suggested she would choke and drown.
So in my last line I had ‘pleasures’ as a cutting keriji to make clear the dominating ****** context, having previously used a preposition and determiner to maintain duality!
Exhausted shivers
in windowed naked currents
unfolding sinking
then surfing vital wavelets
drowning screams - pleasures wet bite
**
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 7:10 PM UTC
When you like somebody so much but you don't know how to tell him,
When you are not sure about what you feel.
When you want to ask him to stay longer but he has to pick up his mom.
When you can't hide the disappointment on your face.
But he said that this soon shall pass.
When he said he was attracted to you
When he hugs you and buries his face in your hair,
When he looks at you with his baby blues so clear
When he laughs with you
When he listens so attentively when you talk
The world is filled with colors
When you knew it was coming
But you thought you could dodge it
When he sat down and said sorry.
When he texts you, When he said he would text you
When he talks with modal auxiliary verbs.
When he tells you his family history.
When I see his eyes brighten
When I think I am falling but don't know his side of story.
are all fragments of our memories.
When he said it's still beautiful to leave when you have developed feelings.
Remember me when you leave.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
but have you noticed, have you noticed how all mental health problems
stem form a seemingly aether virus that attacks the pronoun category;
i mean with proper justifiable schizoids you will not hear of the nouns
being ransacked for an equation that equates itself to misnomers;
it's all categorised negation of ease within the framework of pronouns.
it's strange that philosophers stress the pronouns so much these days
and those countless prior, but why do mental health diseases
attack the pronouns and not the nouns? they attack the verbs
thoroughly, but prior to the verbs exposing an illness
the pronouns are attacked, so that many considering the singularity
of expressing thought are ill because of being forced into a plural expression
of thought: "voices." i find it hard to understand, but it's the reality,
the aether virus attacks the pronoun
on the backdrop of a king's casual expression / use
of pronouns, when a king casually says
of himself as omni or multi with one and we respectively;
so why are pronouns so weak and nouns so strong
that a tree cannot be a misnomer attaché of timber
and rock not a pillar, or mountain as the verb: mountaineering?
the pronoun category is weak from day one,
because it suggests photographic duck animation on the lip pursed
into a quack quack, but if we constructed thought
without knowledge prior, eating the fruit of knowledge
rather than the fruit of thought, using the starting point
of the genesis metaphor, it's sometimes a no brainer
to have weak thinking and strength in knowing,
for if there was strength in thinking and weakness in knowing,
i'd be the one chiseling these words in the ice age on a cavern wall.
so, given, that diseases such as the famed premature dementia
attack the pronouns but not the nouns the schizoid one
will convene life with: pizza is pizza and sunshine ray down the drain
clock the millionth dead parting of grasshoppers in decimals -
while man unto man lusts one man's parting in decimals,
but should dire said, part man with integers, and insects with decimals!
but still, in the terminology of a cartesian understanding of illness,
in that segregational aspect of things "sorted,"
why are mental illnesses tattooed in a weak pronoun usage
compared to a strength in other grammatical categories?
why are not mental illnesses ******* the life out of the nouns?
the nouns are intact, the pronouns attacked,
and the verbs chess piece the pawn from the casually speaking clown king
into a beast imprisoned, for while the pronouns are attacked
and the nouns left intact, the attack on pronouns expresses itself
fully in verbs of the never existent tact: with such magic
as to claim knock knock on plank is the same as knock knock on veneer.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
heartbreak
parallel to eye
without razor
sobbing
wet leaves
pressed in
a book
will not
dry
next
tears
do not
outlive
themselves
discovery
for another
generation
still
when in doubt
quote rimbaud
no verbs
no more
choosing the vowel “o”
that
i’m not
going to
remember
again
6.9k
"You're wasting your time."
Familiar line, I'm sure;
Leisure, time you take pleasure
In wasting, fighting off chores
With scores of swords forged in
Words, nouns and verbs, you argue
"I've nought to do, work's been,
I've earned it!" The frayed border between
Toil and sleep, 'spare time',
Your crime is laziness, sloth;
The clock – time's warden – watching
As your lies thicken like simmering broth;
The monitor melts your eyes into half-smiles,
"Wasted time, your pastime,"
A degree in procrastination, hesitation
To face – "the clock, the time!"
The moon hides behind the horizon,
Your fingers flurry, too late to hurry
Out the piece you left so late.
"Wasted time" stinks like left-over curry,
Let it permeate your nostrils; exhale blame
As you **** in the shame that you've failed.
Cradle the melted clock, warm butter,
Spread it onto toast, yellow trails
Crying "why?" Place it between guilty lips
And chew; the taste's bitter.
"It's raining today."
Pitter patter, patter pitter.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC
Begging you, Sterling Mentor of the Card
Patient and Calm are your Methods in-check
May I take this Learner to Living afar
Bespoke my Efforts and Services are met
For if I noticed this Lack-of-Command
Married to sane Verbs I try to absorb
Even out of Bounty; Trust be at Hand
To remember such Stubbled Skills I bore
This is an Artist-on-High. That which speaks
With Curried Words much tempting to forget
At expense of Duty is no longer meek
And my Salt's Wager now easy to forget.
Bear me Calm. I can adopt to re-learn
The Blue Eagle's shriek which can eat the Worm.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
i like angry poetry
the kind that churns
in your gut,
with razors for teeth
and gums bleeding.
i like the violent sound
of verbs clashing
on a decaying page,
like the shot of a gun
on a quiet day.
i like the poetry that stays,
that lies in waiting
like a dog in a cage,
words that creep like
voided birds into the
wired tress of my brain,
that pay their rent
like drunken travelers
and trash the place.
i like angry poetry
the kind that sears it's
screams to my lips,
which spirit echoes and
moans for eager,
****** eyes.
words that hit like *****
giving their reader
a killer hangover.
i like angry poetry,
the kind that leave you
with a smoky exit.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 9:13 AM UTC
Can we exchange dialogue
from master scripts too ten minute plays?
Inhaling every exhale from your line breaks
Prefixes soothing my ear drums
intellect holding suffixes.
Allowing your stories to take me too worlds
literature can’t reach.
Where archetypes are dynamic
antagonists don’t exist
and you’re the only character not flat.
Stasis starts situations
When you’re the intrusion
I follow all stage directions
put me inside your prepositions,
cover me in your verbs
let me hold your nouns
lay my head on your adverbs
and fall asleep to your adjectives.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
Words and letters are written on walls
Some as vandalization others as messages
Words and letters are written on walls
Words and sentences are written on billboards
Some serve as advertising others to arouse awareness
Words and sentences are written on billboards
Words and paragraphs are written on my brain
Some serve as inspiration others to support guidance
Words and paragraphs are written on my brain
Words are the weapons I use in a society that controls my image
Words are the only thing that can divide me from being ghetto or educated
My words are the only thing that I can vouch for like my *****
My words are the root of the intelligence that propels this sentence
Letters in my words stand close to each other eager to make a statement
If I do not show my words, my letters of cheerfulness begin to fade away
Sentences are the compound of the mind that begs to be understood
Sentences are made up of a tyranny chained down by a trendsetters mood
My sentences contain verbs, nouns, adjectives and subjects that explain a lost purpose
My sentences define the meaning of an ironical imagery that leads me to dream
Sentences paint a picture that any blind character can see
If I do not paint my sentences how will I ever show my brains art gallery
Picasso used the paint brush to express his moods and feelings on a canvas
Shakespeare and Allan Poe used ink to utter their thoughts on a sheet of paper
Somewhere in my mind the collision of words and paint occurred
Where I fused the essence of writing with the masterfulness of painting
My words and sentences have met a significant other called paint
Paint and words are my new best friend
Paint and brushes are splattered and used upon walls
Some are called vandalization while they represent artistic skills
Paint and brushes are splattered and used upon walls
Paint and words are written on subways
So the eyes of the young and old can see the traveling message
Paint and words are written on subways
Paint and words smack up at my face
So that the world sees who conveys this message
Paint and words smack up at my face
Paint gives visual to what words cannot picture
My Paint serves as a method of expressing the mind’s tears and smiles
My Paint becomes a tour guide through the loops of divine wonders
Paint is just a stepping stone to the magnificent path of beauty
A brush is just a brush depending on who holds it
A brush is like the keyboard I constantly battle with to unleash my mind
A brush can combine negativity and positivity and make peace
A brush unites celibate beliefs with those whom are perverse
Words and sentences along with paint and brushes help explain my motive
Jonathan Pizarro
Lost Cause © 2011
April 17th, 2011
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 12:42 AM UTC
.#metoboot.
X O X
O X O
X X O
who the ****
was i supposed
to be calling?
#: but there's no
phone-number
and there's no
telephone...
let me just call up
a trend...
a meme...
funny funny...
not so funny...
it's still amazing
how existence drags
essence along with itself...
and that
essence is neither
a priori, nor a posteriori,
to compensate
existence,
being neither of the two.
since why should
existence be a priori
to essence,
or why essence
should be a posteriori
to existence...
oh... wait...
why essence should be
a posteriori to existence?
that part...
so why does the notion
of knowledge exist,
or the fact that some
100 year old old ****
gives life advice
about how he has
a 20 year old lover,
and he shoots a down trip
of ***** of 1cl
each day?
it's still a drag experience,
no, not Brighton drag queens...
existence drags essence
into its ontological conclusion...
mors mater...
muttertod...
matka śmierć...
mother death;
and? last time i heard?
she's the ultimus virgo,
she's the (do you couple
adverbs with verbs,
or verbs with nouns
in german? can you couple
adverbs with verbs?
ah... ad- Latin prefix:
toward... sure... an adverb
+ a verb sounds better than
an adverb + noun) hence?
letzemaljungfrau,
ostatnia niewiasta,
the last (or the lasting) ******
she can't exactly fake
******* over someone
to a dead pulp of prior to
tadpole whipped / egg white
cream.
*
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
A root of confusion in math
is not knowing whether a term
is a noun, verb, adjective, or adverb.
An equation is nothing but
a string of nouns.
But I may think about these nouns,
by their adjective or adverb
alternatives, for example,
which convolute the matter.
Verbs in math are really the outliers.
Thus, I've been thinking wrong
with "math is a verb" mentality.
The most common math terms are
nouns, which function alone
as subjects and objects.
What I think of as "doing math"
is akin to "doing porch".
It entails a deck, railing, stairs,
a chair, a roof.
So too, does math include these
things.
I walk on the stairs and deck.
I sit on the chair.
I enjoy the roof's shade.
So too, the things of math are
used via terms which are not
included usually in math terminology.
Almost the only verb used in
math is "think" which is convoluted
by the subjects/objects which I
employ during thinking.
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 11:34 PM UTC