"verification" poems
Procrastination
with lack of motivation
Leading you towards devastation
Favorite song on the radio station
Not really caring about any education
Instead daydreaming with a vivid imagination
Wanting to go on an all inclusive 3 week vacation
Taking a 30 minute break for some much needed meditation
Rhyming this many words to make a poem takes too much dedication
I really did write this so I'll put a personal problem in for some further verification
Thats my poem on Procrastination
Sorry Its Late
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
V-is for vowing to never drink *****
While on our voluntary vacation.
We have voiced our verification
In a high voltage volcano
While playing volleyball
And checking our voicemail.
While in this void,
A terrifyingly vivid *****
Who was a model for vogue
In which she wore a V-neck dress,
And ate all her vitamins
Vocabulized with much volume,
Her vow
To always,
Drink *****
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
it's all occupied with dark fumes of flatulence
the bus hanger
it's teething and earning a low ceilinged thrive
regularly cleaned the roof portal
with a large drooping eye
brags of blue sky
the coaches are idling
fretful to be burdened and go
elsewhere
the public urinals
there's a strong smell of iron
are the morning users dehydrated
malnourished or ill ?
i feel a little flated
elsewhere
in the waiting area
a neatly turned out teen
wants to give their seat to the infirm
does not and hurts inside averting
(a public act of courtesy
would after all be an embarrassing one)
attention back to the importance
my friend has ungreeted me
i have wished him ease
and he has passed between the cordons
amongst amiable cattle
he pauses at the authorities verification
who in turn
tails them to load up their luggage
and become their driver
- goodbye my friend
Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
Tribulations and my afflictions are misery
This cryptic, ironic, depiction is misery.
-
The warmth of the sanguine is never in me
The cold cells of mine are dead, are misery.
-
What would it take to ever **** me?
Perhaps, if only one thing, misery.
-
What is a sickness without remedy?
It is a malignant growth of misery.
-
Verification of my friend, my enemy,
Certainly my brother, my nemesis misery.
-
Confidence is precedence in my virility,
Verily infecting, lacerating misery.
-
I, Andrew, deny that ever woe could have been me,
Although I surrender, I succumb to misery.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
To login without accreditation,
To access without authorisation,
To sign in without authentication,
To enter without verification.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
It is incumbent upon us to interpret various environments in this multi-dimensional tapestry of holistic landscapes, where celestial ecosystems abound with pulsating organisms of diversity.
So, let us translate our literary concepts in silence, as we traverse cross-cultural vistas of universality.
As indigenous beings reach beyond the sparse and pompous settlements of our ******* city towers; there is something incomprehensible which transcends our ambling walk through this urban pasture, as the train departs from the classical platform of El Chorro.
I am mesmerised by linguistic creativity, as she echoes throughout distant galaxies of enriched and unspoken mystical vocabularies.
As empirical verification is not possible, I must beseech thee: Where are the connoisseurs of this poetic dimension?
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
One check of my accomplishments,
But furthermore a verification for skills,
The art of conversation shall be my judge,
And my experience so far my partner in crime,
As the master of this angelic pen I'll suffice,
Even if they find me underwhelmed,
Or leave with disappointment without another word,
It is only proof, I have too much to improve to give up!
One way or the other, I find my hand guide the way,
With gentle movements, a delicate caligraphy has been created,
Thus, a deep breath, calming my tired nerves, helps me relax,
A clear mind is required for a difficult task after all,
And so, my hand gently, softly calls for the cover of this pen,
Time flew past without distraction, confidently,
Handing away this work I wait for the results,
Starting to become nervous down to my very core,
What if it wasn't good enough?
~ Umi
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 10:46 PM UTC
Slowly sinking in such sullen silence
As if allowing all abandonment alike
Very visible verification
Eludes to the epitome of emotion
Maybe making myself mean much more
Eventually eliminates my existence
For fake friends fail to fathom fear of fearfulness
Realizing reality remains
Only to omit the opinions of others
Meticulously matching myself
Tortuous tasks tend to take time to teach to me
However, help hurts the healing heart
Isn't it ironic that insanity is inevitable
Some soon succumb to the substances
Severed skin stings as if saying "slice me some more"
Alone in apparent agony
Daring damsels to determine their date of death
Nevertheless, we need to feel numb
Enough to enjoy every endless evasion
Since only screams seem to silence the sinners' souls
Someone must soon save those suffering
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
What is quantifiable are the symbols. What isn't quantifiable are the zones between the symbols, unless there are many symbols present that form spaces.
There are partial symbols, i.e. a gesture of an animal is present but not the form of the animal.
Reality stays more abstract with partial symbology.
What is known about the symbol gives reality meaning.
Speaking of visions as symbols separates the meaning from the visual experience.
The person who doesn't see the symbol as the reality has not been exposed to reality which is somewhat hard to ascertain.
When, in dreams for example, there are just collages of things, it is hard to say that it is more than a collage. But if I recognize symbology, it allows me to see every part of the picture.
Symbols are more for the artist than the scientist who simply wants to verify what happens in reality. While transcendent of verification of meaning is reality "filler", yet it attains to meaning only if it is seen as symbol.
The filler is more abstract because logic only exists here if we consciously give something meaning. Otherwise a huff of a dog, for example, is merely a passing image.
Since concrete objects already have existential meaning, they cannot constitute as filler.
Visions, because they only partially exist, calls into question existence itself.
In filler reality, it becomes participatory as to giving reality meaning or just enjoying the visions.
What separates this filler world from normal mind is that meaning is no longer the key to reality.
Simply experiencing the visuals explain reality in an easy way.
Meaning almost ruins the mode of experience.
Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 9:29 PM UTC
Just picked up my thirtieth pair of glasses
(perhaps you call them eye glasses).
Progressive, photo-chromatic, temples with wrap around cables.
Same round frames since I was sixteen (first saw them in How I Won the War).
I don’t mess with what works. We fit. No need to look further.
Had my eye on the prize.
They give me perfect sight. And I waited years to get perfect sight.
Always needed glasses. Finally got them when I was eleven.
Big family. Immigrants. No health coverage. So, no glasses.
Couldn’t see the forest or the trees. A genetic thing too.
Several sisters and brothers are as myopic as moles.
Mammy and Daddy never wore glasses (which is not to say they didn’t need them).
All granny glasses are wire rims with a golden finish.
All of mine were. These ones are round black wire rims. I’m being so adventurous.
I remove them (singular is a monocle) to shower and go to bed. I never ask to try on someone’s frames, and I never loan mine for a second (Period)
I also have a face that has grown so accustomed to glasses, that my eyes have surely deepened into my skull. I don’t recognize myself on my driver’s license, health card or passport (Why do they insist on that? I’m never asked to remove my glasses upon surrender of any document for visual verification).
I’ve yet to regret the wealth I’ve spent.
Their cost could pay the rent
For a third world family for years.
It would feed and clothe a village, I’m sure.
I'm not blinded by how good I've got it here.
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 11:35 AM UTC
This week at work I received a Homeland Security form with a terse note that I had filled it out incorrectly - in 2003. But I had not filled it out at all; this was new form (already out of date by its own testimony) predicated on a Department of Justice form which I did complete correctly; it had simply expired.
Altho’ I obediently completed the form, I rendered part of the form (page 7 of 9) into not-really-a-poem, in lines of ten syllables:
I Attest That I Am
employment eligibility
verification department of home
land security u.s. citizen
ship and immigration services u
scis form i-9 omb
no. 1615-0047
expires 03/31/2016
start here. Read instructions carefully be
fore completing this form. The instructions
must be available during completion
of this form anti-discrimination
notice: it is illegal to discrim
inate against work-authorized indi
viduals. Employers cannot specify
which document(s) they will accept from an
employee. The refusal to hire an
individual because the docu
ment presented has a future expi
ration date may also constitute il
legal discrimination. Section 1.
Employee information and attest
ation (employees must complete and sign
section 1 of form i-9 no later than
the first day of employment, but not be
fore accepting a job offer). Last
name (family name) First name (given name) mid
dle initial other names used (if any)
address (street number and name) apt.
number city or town state zip code date
of birth (mm/dd/yyyy)
u.s. social security number
e-mail address telephone number I
am aware that federal law provides
for imprisonment and / or fines for false
statements or use of false documents in
connection with the completion of the
form. I attest, under penalty of
perjury, that I am (check one of the
following)…
I Attest That I Am
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC
a rapport of longstanding, e'er they are linked
a rapport of longstanding, e'er they are linked
she and he so in love, yet to the world they rebuff the fact
she and he so in love, yet to the world they rebuff the fact
e'er they are linked, yet to the world they rebuff the fact
a rapport of longstanding, she and he so in love
they use a ruse, all is out in the open
they use a ruse, all is out in the open
Dave has worked it out, cognizant of the clues
Dave has worked it out, cognizant of the clues
all is out in the open, cognizant of the clues
Dave has worked it out, they use a ruse
will they ever come clean, show the verification deed
will they ever come clean, show the verification deed
it's so obvious, deep and abiding their fondness
it's so obvious, deep and abiding their fondness
it's so obvious, show the verification deed
will they ever come clean, deep and abiding their fondness
they use a ruse, Dave has worked it out
a rapport of longstanding, it's so obvious
all is out in the open, she and he so in love
yet to the world they rebuff the fact, will they ever come clean
deep and abiding their fondness, cognizant of the clues
show the verification deed, e'er they are linked
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 7:35 AM UTC
coursing in his veins
the blood of yellow hue
a sure verification
of a coward's cue
men of courage bore
a darker shade of red
there was such bravery
in the way they bled
behind them the craven
one so weakly stood
they'd be taking the bullets
meant for his hood
yellow with dishonor
spineless of back
not having the gumption
to face an attack
his veins so desperately
bereft of fortitude
they were so inglorious
in their aptitude
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
It's amazing,
How words will only actualize our realities
Fully
When they are uttered
Aloud.
And once those unspoken realities transpire,
It's as if the all the air in the world gets caught in a primordial vibration,
And those vibrations
Break the internal balloon
Detaining veracity's ink
Painting our insides like the canvas of Jackson Pollack.
Seeping through soft tissue.
Spilling into chest cavities.
Sloshing around.
Saturating the hues of our flesh.
A single utterance
Resulted in irrevocable emotional
Infiltration:
"I'm in love"
*********
Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
We're living in a changing world.
While holding true to old views and rules.
Refusing to be one confronting reality.
We, like many uses God's laws for verification.
When in reality all were written by men during a time when women were lesser in the eyes of men.
Which is why?
More men cries about abortion which deals with the bodies of ladies.
We , don't see men pushing laws of vasectomy.
They refusing to want to be confronting reality.
Should we call it God's law when many political males seem bent on making rules that's Man's law.
Just listen to when various men speaks.
When in truth smart males knows, it's not the *** of women that's weak.
Yes, we living in a changing world.
And it's affecting every man, woman, boy and girl and hosts of others.
When it comes to American ways of adjusting to others.
We find it's hard to accept many half-sisters and brothers.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
Alphabetical Order
amazing are the stars, that fill the eyes of a woman in love,
broken is the heart of a man, who has been turned away,
crowded are the stairways of the souls, searching the ****** glove,
dichotomous minds each separating, between month and day,
emulating the desires, that never seem to be quite filled,
forever left behind in the wake, of the steamy encounters,
gratification comes so close to the edge, of tears that spilled,
humbling the spirit of drive, as she casually saunters
in and out of her trances, thus requiring a special technique,
just as your about to capture, the flag of your quest,
keeping your head above the line, you get just one peek,
lovers separated, never owned, still merely a guest
might as well step into the path, of an oncoming fist,
never was any remote chance, that this would be resolved,
over and over the words are repeated, like reading a list,
permanently bringing injury to the dreamers involved
quietly, you grab your bags of lost promises and regrets,
resolving to the facts, that are right in front of your face,
securing the one of you dreams, don't be placing your bets,
trying to hard, seeking too much, another time, another place
underlining the failures, that are displayed on the page,
verification of these unwanted responses, we certainly don't need,
when oh when, can this heartache release built up rage,
xylem pumping the fluid, will it finally bleed
you're standing there now, with nothing to show for the time,
zanyism is quite commonly blamed for the entire episode.
Gomer Lepoet...
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 8:39 PM UTC
She would hank up on my left side
Listening to my breathing
Like You, she loved to grabble
To take care of my health, You're cared about it too
Unlike You, she’s got an apprehension of old science fiction movies
And she often stared at me while I was dozing or watching a film.
Jokingly, I would draw her attention:
- Look! Advertising for "Elvita cakes"!
We were laughing.
I understood that stare.
Because of You.
While we were walking in the winter, you wanted to be on my right side
And You would let me slip my hand into the pocket of your coat.
I'd watched you tread, with rosy cheeks
Hair pulled into a bun
I would stare.
You would ask - what ?!
Nothing, I would answer.
(your smile, you fool)
In the first months we photographed ourselves
With a cheap film camera
And photos were in color
On photos, You turn out magically.
I brought along the album with these photos of you
While I train traveled in dawn, for the semester verification.
I stared, while the coupe was empty.
In the city I bumped into a former, older, more experienced colleague
We both worked in a bookstore and his father teached literature.
I told him about the new poems, the new job after old bookstore and that I'm in a relationship.
I showed him your photo, the most beautiful one.
He froze.
Then he said with a smile:
You are going to be so ****** up when this relationship ends ...so ****** up.
And he, as always, was right.
I was *******
I didn’t tell you about the album and the train
I let you speak about musicians
You were not pleased because I didn’t understood the song of Leonard Cohen completely
And I wasn’t pleased not knowing for the comicbook which will essentially explain the two of us.
You become cold, distant.
You left in February, after the literary evening
You were a bit surprised that I gave You a book, gift with a dedication
Although I was (un) consciously conscious of what awaits for me soon.
I didn’t complicate.
I got up, kissed You on the forehead, and I went towards the station and to take a bottle of beer.
Where are you going, You asked. Pulled me by the sleeve. Tightened me.
We struggled for a few seconds. Stopped.
You wanted to see me off, to see how the train departs slowly, leaving
How train wagon becomes a point in the distance that disappears in the fog.
Of course, it was your way.
Now we both have a cult episode of Dylan Dog
Comicbook called " The Long Goodbye "
There is also a scene at the train station
And I finally realized Leonard
After the first empty bottle.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 7:06 AM UTC
Alphabetical Order
amazing are the stars, that fill the eyes of a woman in love,
broken is the heart of a man, who has been turned away,
crowded are the stairways of the souls, searching the ****** glove,
dichotomous minds each separating, between month and day,
emulating the desires, that never seem to be quite filled,
forever left behind in the wake, of the steamy encounters,
gratification comes so close to the edge, of tears that spilled,
humbling the spirit of drive, as she casually saunters
in and out of her trances, thus requiring a special technique,
just as your about to capture, the flag of your quest,
keeping your head above the line, you get just one peek,
lovers separated, never owned, still merely a guest
might as well step into the path, of an oncoming fist,
never was any remote chance, that this would be resolved,
over and over the words are repeated, like reading a list,
permanently bringing injury to the dreamers involved
quietly, you grab your bags of lost promises and regrets,
resolving to the facts, that are right in front of your face,
securing the one of you dreams, don't be placing your bets,
trying too hard, seeking too much, another time, another place
underlining the failures, that are displayed on the page,
verification of these unwanted responses, we certainly don't need,
when oh when, can this heartache release built up rage,
xylem pumping the fluid, will it finally bleed
you're standing there now, with nothing to show for the time,
zanyism is quite commonly blamed for the entire episode.
Gomer Lepoet...
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 6:21 PM UTC
I am a victim of verbal, mental, and physical abuse
And no matter how hard i try
My scars seems to out shine my smile
I don't try to be negative
I really don't
But when you've experienced the pain i felt
You assume the worst
I take the blame because it's usually my fault
I am the one common denominator
In all the things that I've lost
I ask "are you mad?"
Because its a natural reaction
I tend to bring it out
In those with a mutual attraction
I need constent verification
That i am wanted
Yes, its annoying and it bugs me too
But if you want me tell me
It's my diseases salvation
I get frustrated because im bipolor
I cry because im depressed
I'm sure you regret meeting
This hot *** mess
Ive been used and abused
So i assumed you'll do it too
I'm truly sorry for my assumption
I never ment to judge you
If you've moved on
I truly understand
A man like you
Should be in better hand
All i want to do is add to your happiness
Make you like Texas
Because thats where we met
And...
Give you what you want
Whatever that may be
When you find out, tell me
I'll be sure to deliver with 100% guarantee
But i am sorry
For what? I dont know
I feel like I annoy you
But who knows
I've ran out of words
And the henny is kicking in
I probably shouldn't drive
But **** it! We all die in the end✌
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
Encroaching on my personal space
I am Bombarded by these images
Children with hopes Dashed
No links to the outside world
Always under constant threat
Rubber bullets flying,
Tears running from the gassed air
Vision blurred
A memory of what they never had
Forces keep creeping in
The boarders keep retreating inwards
No longer settled, should they settle for less
The settlements all around them
Rapidly they are moving but who is to stop them
He who dare risks the draconian approach of Goliath
Little David with his sling and stone
Wont Match the might and force wielded upon him
There is no escape from the eagle eye of Goliath forces
Peace is only considered achievable by constant aggression
Dissent calls for harsher treatments
They have essentially been brought as slaves within their tuff
The walls surrounding them,
Locking them in
They have to settle for less
Constant harassment and humiliation is the order of the day
The bus stops
They've got to set down
Awaiting verification
No pass means no pass!
Those deemed unsuitable have to settle for a return to the human cage
Senselessly caged like hens
Not to be set loose and free
For them freedom is an illusion
The desired but unattainable
Shall we sit idle?
Their hopes and dreams rest on our shoulders
We must challenge the status quo.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 5:43 PM UTC
I used to write about heaven
Because, I knew that I was the type of person
Who would never see it,
Not one that drinks too much
Swears very often
Smokes so heavily, as I do
I used to think there was beauty
In a place that I couldn't see
In a location that isn’t mapped
I thought that in the absence of the tangible verification
Of its own acuality that
It could be anything I wanted it to be.
It changed over the years
First I wrote of it as a couch of clouds
Blue bundles of cotton
With light pink underbellies
That floated free and molded to only me
Then I wrote it as if it was a movie theature
With pictures blown up in front of me,
Mostly home movies that would zoom in on my mothers face
As some Elton John slow song played in the background
Timed perfectly with my mother's movements
And the popcorn was free.
You read all of these ideas of mine
Of what heaven was like
And you agreed and said,
"They are equally bad places to never be."
Now I don't write of heaven often
I sleep next to you much more
Than I drink
Or I smoke
I still swear very often
But the beauty of a place I can't see and could never be
Seems to have lessened to me now
And my idea of heaven are things I can verify
This bed,
Blanket,
Your head underneath a pillow.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
new feelings are being manifested
new thought forms have arrived.
senses picking up the light
traveling from afar,
reaching for my heart.
the call is loud, the pounds rhythmically move.
these new thoughts reside cradled
in a clarity of You.
a see through type of verification.
clearly realizing my own self
is but an aspect of You.
a piece of the whole.
this piece is preparing for steps
back to the dark.
where You are known.
rocked at the breast, yet fully grown.
puberty at rest,
maturity known.
that choice in each step to go it alone.
this confidence, previously unknown,
though now I trust this path home.
I know that my hearts requests
are being asked from generations previously known.
the pieces of You from before, the pieces of me I
still know.
I feel you when we catch eyes.
Your gentleness is known.
Your grace coaxes me in
and I cope with however your expression
deals its dope.
its stimulating, intoxicating show.
the pieces that draw me in
to examine. the pieces I just must know.
all these pieces are calling us.
they are in us.
they course with our soul.
our world is an illusion of such a
massive proportion that we must
put out the call to rise up!
we must... the dust of the stars makes up our bones!
we owe it to our home,
She calls us to know, again.
memories sit still, awaiting discovery.
they manifest as new feelings.
I act upon them.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 2:22 AM UTC
The computer built by savages
held a fake Hard Drive made by Scottish Magpies
all external with no verification
whilst a Mainframe Computer is the real deal
the savages took their dud and market it militantly
Simpletons galore brought Scottish Magpies computer
in glaring ignorance they proclaimed keyboard at the ready
load in this disc and watch the show
we are now Gamers with total control
here's the operating Manual but its written in Advanced Braille
oh what a joke to see Barbarians play with dud triggers
this doesn't appear to be working says a semi-barbarian
don't be silly says Scottish Magpies, its working but its all invisible
just make sure you do a headstand when you access the keys
and know it NLP, that's Natural Language Processing
so come to us and we tell you what to say and do
A Mainframe computer is the real deal
Sophisticated, it uses a mainframe because only big iron provides
the processing power to support the many functions required in a trained informed intelligent mind like factual support
clear and logical processing, while able to monitor signs of fraud,
like crooks, Barbarians and Scottish Magpies in elaborate frauds
as well as perform analytics in real time, and more—and all simultaneously.
This is not a Computer with a one word reference trigger
or visual perceptions programming for the dummies
Don't bother tell that to the Simpletons, its all above their heads
Don't shatter their dreams, they have been told they have Power
just leave them in their Kindergarten playground
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 6:53 AM UTC
I hate verification codes.
What a mere cluster of alphabets
and numbers that
hold no existence anywhere
but a screen. So ephemeral. A
mere cluster of randomly
chosen letters that are so
utterly incapable of
holding the profundity of meaning,
incapable of making our lips twist and turn and
press against each other,
incapable of
reminding us of memories so fond,
of kisses and breathlessness,
incapable of making it’s way
to the yellowed pages of a diary or
old letters that speak of love
and longing, a cluster of letters
incapable of holding
within itself the power of
expression, the power
to cage the agonies and beauties of the
world and it’s abstracts,
of memories and moments,
of feelings so covert or not so,
incapable of giving
shape to everything that exists, or
everything that appears to,
a cluster of letters than can hardly
take the beautiful and powerful form
of ‘words’ and hence
majestically falling short
of giving life and lending our hearts
the profundity of catharsis.
And yet powerful enough
to validate or not, the verity of
us being
human.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC
Harness the power of the chakra describing what I see in the process stone Amazonian statues surrounded by unknown objects. She told me about invisible trees, then told me how she can create a universe all she needs is one thousand trillion trillion degrees. Distorting the time line, the grand architect the relative radiance of the sky. Comparative sharpness among artists, if you still worshiping money I think you are Godless. Always remember. It's her agenda. No corruption no destruction no budget because politics and perjury bring out the worst of me. Battling my shadow with no media coverage. See i don't want it. I'm rarely seen in public. Basic instructions. Test driving my principle findings sometimes I double the writing as I design a new style of rhyming. I see all their movements. I can't live with the same ******** So what will I become? The spider web nest has been spun. The invisible tree. And me defending it with new alloys in the year 2023. All these poets ain't saying nothing. Matter of fact they have no constituent function. This poem is an alternative route. I used to call names out but it's played out. Have patience. She will give you verification for her space station infrared spectral observation before you take a break. I need you to list and name them. This is from my heart. Listening to Mozart In space there's unknown floating parts creating unknown art. To be this consistent is a sickness persistent writing with conviction she made all these predictions I'm just documenting what I witnessed.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC