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Brielle Bishop Aug 2018
8.10.18//
A triangle is a polygon
Three edges
Three vertices
A, B, C denoted
Scalene, Obtuse, Acute
No matter the internal angle,
The degrees,
You’ve never found that
Of an Equilateral appealing
Unable to relate,
Obtuse seems far more fitting
Difficult to understand
Two sides annoyingly sensitive, impossible
High hopes of overshadowing the smaller
Base of the shape
What the opposing angles
Fail to realize is nothing would be possible
Without the foundation
While the top portion remains
Sharp and ominous
The root exists patiently and quietly
For the value to be found
If I could, I would have
Used a fine tipped pencil
Versus a pen to sketch
If I could, I would erase both angles
To form a linear arrangement
Instead I dispose of the scratch sheet
Some equations are left unsolved
For temporary periods of time,
Regaining composure
The values of A and B discovered
So we start from the beginning
The base
Progressing from one stage to another
Sequential
A singular line
Possesses more meaning than you may think
For instance
Roads that extend for miles
Through the flatlands of Kansas
The Midwest and back
To the heart of the desert
Outstretched limbs
Welcoming and warm
Beaten dirt paths
That eventually led me to you
Tommy Carroll May 2015
Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.

She looked up-
someone  was
explaining functionality
€‹She stared at
the new argument
€on the white board

then returned to the letter-
the fold
the plane
pressing and creasing
vertices meeting
corners peaking.

Sighing:

His orientation obvious,
they were now mismatched.
Incongruent
she rose
and left the room.
There would be many such
lessons.

Tommy Carroll
redrafted
Tommy Carroll May 2015
Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.

She looked up-
somebody was explaining
functionality,
She stared:
the new argument was
written on the white board
she returned to the letter-

another fold
another plane
pressing and creasing
opening
rereading
vertices missed,
words realigned.
Sentences brokered
with each new
configuration,
yet its meaning
reformed.

He- was disengaged
she- was misplaced.
Incongruent.
She rose
and left the room.
There would be
many such lessons.

Tommy Carroll
Tommy Carroll May 2015
Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.

She looked up-
somebody was explaining
functionality:
She stared
at the new argument
written on the white board
then returned to the letter-

the fold
another plane
pressing and creasing
vertices missing
corners peaking...

Sighing:

His orientation disengaged
they were now misplaced.
Incongruent
she rose
and left the room.
There would be
many such lessons.

Tommy Carroll
redrafted
ghost queen Nov 2019
You ask why I am anxious, why i am depressed, let me list for you the reasons why:

Global warming
Melting glaciers
Heatwaves
Polar vertices
Category 6 hurricanes
F5 Tornadoes
Droughts
Desertification
Floods
Wild fires
Snowless winters
Ice free arctic
Antarctic ice shelf collapse
Greenland glacier melting
Perma forst thawing

Ocean warming
Ocean acidification
Coral bleaching
Sea level rising
Coastal erosion
Over fishing
Fisheries collapse
Plankton extinction
Fertilizer run offs
Chemical pollution
Raw sewage dumping
Red algae blooms
Vibrio explosions

Ozone layer depletion
Lack of fresh potable water
Acid rain
Top soil depletion
Dead soil
Deforestation
Banana palm tree cultivation
Evasive species
Overpopulation
Urban sprawl
Insect apocalypse
Animal extinction
Lower biodiversity
Bird apocalypse
Bee apocalypse
Bat apocalypse
Amphibian apocalypse

Aging nuclear power plants
Superfund sites
Radioactive contamination
Three mile island, Chernobyl, Fukushima
Endocrine disrupters
PBAs
Autism
***** count collapse
Effeminization of men

Noise pollution
Light pollution
Chronic stress
Diabetes
Metabolic diseases
Over eating
Obesity

Drug resistances
New and emerging diseases
Epidemics pandemics
Swine and bird flu
Genetic modification
Biotech tech
nano tech
Crispr
DNA
genetic testing
Designer babies
Aging population
Health care rising
Unaffordable medications
Uninsured
Medicare of all
Medical bankruptcy
Social security bankruptcy

Rise of terrorism
Rise of extremism
Far right
Alt right
Lack of education
Masculine identity crisis
Emasculation of men
Decline of boys
Rise of girls

Increasing depression and anxiety
Increase anxiety depression among young girls
Lack of human connection
Social isolation
Social awkwardness
Snowflake generation
Disintegration of the family
Suicides
Social media addiction
**** addiction
Drug addiction
Alcohol addiction

Lack of equality
Political corruption
Kleptocracy
Corporatocracy
Plutocracy
Oligarchy
New American aristocracy
Too big to fail
Privatize profits, socialize losses
Decline of democracy
Fascism
Terrorism
Religious extremism
Religious tension
Political divisiveness
National unity
Second American civil war
Helplessness of the common man

Big data
Data protection
Algorithms
Internet tracking
Lost of privacy
Artificial intelligence
Singularity
AI white collar job lost
AI automation
AI back office
Autonomous AI
5G supremacy
Quantum computer supremacy
Virtual reality
Augmented reality
Cybernetics
Chronophobia
Outsourcing
Off shoring
On shoring

Over education
Under employment
Skills gap
3rd world immigration
La reconquista
Cultural dilution
Status quo
Declining economies
Housing crisis
Housing cost
Homelessness
Illiteracy
Hunger
Unemployment
Full employment
Racism
Intolerance
Race relationships
Increasing crime
Student loans
Credit card debt
High mortgages
7 year car loans
Inverse yield curve
52 week high

Wars
Military interventions
Social uprisings
Dwindling resources
Resources conflicts
Rare earth metals
Depletion of helium
Peak oil
Fracking
Water wars
Climate refugees
A list of worries people face today that is causing anxiety and depression
laura Oct 2018
i guess i still miss you
but talking’s for functioning people
when we stand stark
at the vertices of our dog days
we don’t say anything at all
in uncharted autumn
we still have a little sun left
trying to make sense
of the irregularities that compact
this relationship
into tiny little boxes we check
every once and awhile
ostentatiously
Two Blue Beams
rise in the twilight
from dark recesses
of a wounded city

astral projections
paint night clouds
in looming hues
of temporal intent

declarative beams
affirm a bold portent
of an insistent will
and timeless aspirations

one thrusting light
projects wanton determination
bequeathed from unhealed wounds
of a lacerated city

the other casts fervent hope
onto the vast celestial sea
boldly etching upon the heavens
an earnest nations highest ideals

the pillars of light
reveal the dual nature
fixing our place
in a turbulent universe

the brighter light
affirms the beneficence
of liberty's eternal grace
so divinely conferred

received by a higher self
accepted with gratitude
the gracious anointing
of freedoms rich abundance

ride this beam with angry cries
conjure ghosts from a dead past
channel a full measure of resent
its power of restoration is quelled

stirred from nagging agonies
nursed with righteous indignation
untreated wounds fester
the weak blue spire cannot heal

a bleak azure apparition
screams for selfish retribution
heed this dire admonition
a promised fury of
full demonic dimension

the rankled city
yearns to come together
united in communion
around these lights

drawn to the blue flames
like swirling moths
unconscious of what
compels shock and awe

earnest yearnings
flutter to exhaustion
struggle toward the light
aspiring to heal in the inviting glow

transcending the fissures
of our fractured nation
the waning resolve
of a national will

a restless Zeitgeist
cannot be repressed
nor will it relinquish
its will to manifest

a city's fondest hopes
entombed in collective memory
is foretold again
around these bold lights

entranced by the light
a solemn urban campfire
transfixed and sealed
we speak our hearts

holding hands
gnashing teeth
we bite into
our bent knees
tucked up
to sullen chests
heavy hearts
bear pains of loss
dreary tears wash
ash stained cloths
crumpled photos
dear bereavements
of faded memories
and expired hope

resolve is renewed
in bursts of pride
incendiary nationalism
suppress dissent
pummel thoughts
of perceived sedition
pump iron fists as
zealous sledgehammers
forged with conviction
in kilns of
righteous indignation
seething with infected
emotional hangovers
from prurient
tribal diatribes

these sweet sentiments
swing between the polls
of the vast pendulum's arc
along a narrow celestial scale

too and fro
angst and expectation
ebbs and flows
in this astral assignation

the heavenly helix
a set of blue axles
a modern vision
of Ezekiel's Wheel

the rung-less vertices
of our Jacob's Ladder
invites all citizens
to climb again

ascend this pathway
in the company of angels
arrive transfigured
renewed again

build new cities
transcendent destinations
new Edens await
pioneers to explore

fearless pilgrims
sojourn onward
moving to secure
liberty for all

conscious stewards
of the blessed good earth
celebrate rich diversity
of all the beloved

descending back
to an expired past
is a ridged stasis
anchored in Hell

witness flitting
nostalgic phantoms
pathetic pantomimes
of histrionic fictions

the downward path
of the lesser light
tethers us to the place
we cannot leave

The upward light
abhors a hells decent
resolved to vacate
acrimony and hate

the dancing helix opens
a blue portal to heaven
don saintly garb
wing upward in light

transcendence calls us
to traverse with angels
touch the luminescent hem
of God's divine robe

Selah

Music Selection:
Aaron Copland: Appalachian Spring , Simple Gifts

NYC
9/11/10
jbm
I

His tail is cylindrical hailing immaculate twine of dimensional swords and my mind

With tinder and cinder and used dynamite - wily, perplexed - we are cunning, contrite

Silt and asbestos ensnare diaphragms -
duly expressing elite contraband

"Come on man, take my hand," tooling my ribs - reactors are passing for colonist fibs

My funeral follows a prudent position: infinite drama recounted in visions

Muddles reality into insanity - imagine the ways I'm bewitching my vanity

Woke up in feverish pools of deception - recalling this snaking tale of repression

Saddled apocalypse summons the storm - carnival prince and the reptile are born

II

Yesterday, I was saved frozen at sea drowning in confidence - pulsating excellence

Sudafed, opiates, amphetamines - sifting like gold diggers scratching at screens

This fabric has hieroglyphs witches and ornaments barely, she begs us to win sacred tournaments

He reached for her arms as she swam in the pyre, true to the caring that she had inspired

He's standing there drunkenly highly confused, gasping at semblance of what he could do

I don't know - I don't care somebody must
Fleeting ambrosia - burnt naval husk

Honestly, looking back nothing seems real
Surrealist and spooky is all I could feel

Scrapping sweet memory fertile new bones
A concert of cannibals worship this tome:

III

Psoriasis fingertips - silvery hair - eyes so cartoonish, "I can't help but stare".

Drawing strange images into the dirt - ghoulish imposter, "Flames on his shirt".

Crouching in testament - cutting herself - steadfast and jolly, "Infusing with health".

Leaving a trail of blood left in her wake,  as she stumbles and crumbles, "And tumbles in place".

Bastions of light usher scoffing demands - spears made of aloe, "Leave wounds on my hands".

Anxiety begged her to hide in the sheets - praying she'd come to bed, "Thrashing her feet".

Mysterious words from some fiction have bled into parasites,"Parasites play in my head".

"Hold me", she told me, eternally wed under deadly exposure, "More nightshade," she said.

IV

Exquisite demonics implanted inside - articulate, "Just let me hold him", she cried.

Feeble as Latin words - etched down his spine - congregate, estimate, "Counting in rhyme".

We offer up sacraments, sacrifice innocence, whispering terrorists, "Following genesis".

Accordingly heathens with blasphemous hearts, "Whimsical orphans - atropine darts".

I keep you immortalized - captured in song, standing in pentagrams, "Naked as sin".

Dwindling starlight and twinkling frost - honored to share in this, "Paradise lost".

Arc of the covenant, star in the earth - hands held together - they're chanting this verse:

"I love how the world has the need to expire," and, "Look in my eyes as we bask in the fire".

V

Chefs lack the candor of regular pith in this kernel of sorrow we're journeying with

Beating her sternly - he's scaly and ****** - caging her bones under fertilized loam

Estrogen forests are trampled by scythe, sickle and saber, reaping the wife

Frisky in nocturne this sensual bride finds contextual meaning in meaningless rhyme

Standard and righteous - I prance in your skull - are we fated for cancer and ready to fall?

Tumors, abortions and cellophane wombs, consecrate gargoyles - guarding your tomb

Weeding out chilling improvements she sings, "Are the best of us lonely or left without wings?"

"I don't know anything - not anymore". He's begging to stay with her - holding the floor

VI

'Flowery words', she rhetorically mused
Rawest emotion, endangered, refused

Lost and impossibly caught in the heat of the endless embrace of embarrassing need

Hopeful and starry-eyed, pushed to the side, doubted by scornful inclusion and lies

Twisted by jokes, wishes and visions, and tempting tornadoes of desperate decisions

Head in the clouds like the lady deserves, not the tinge of exclusion, repulsion, the nerve

Standing beneath as the waves crash above and the whip grips her knuckles - the crack of the glove

She falls on ground with an earnest composure while hippies and poets all **** on her floor

Promises, bonds and a zone full of friends that all predate her lovers - impaled on the fence

VII

The pair of them rumble in harmonious glee, to wrestle and grumble in palpable need

Tanning distraction this action proceeds under cover of capture the flag as we leave

Beady and auburn, I gaze in your throat as you're speaking in languages nobody knows

Follow you as they do barking at wounds  - howling at insects - gnawing harpoons

Tenacious, relentless and yawning at doors as this screeching is creaking and echoing violently

Mischievous prankster - he sleeps on the floor - god of destruction, you unsullied *****

"Enough," is enough to command that he store all those awfully snide instincts that cause him to roar

"Maybe she just wants frontiers to explore?" In this city of carnivores no one is poor

VIII

The extent to which anyone really should mind is a farcry from anything I would have tried

How do you look at yourself in the mirror? Caring for no one, "Can I please steer?"

Monopolize - colonize - fall to your knees,  derangement of outfits and gloveless disease

"Them," he thought, fraught in sharp needles, "They knit," sought it out seeking some table to sit

Sickened and tarnished, they're grafting his skin, Alice keeps asking him, "Please let me in".

Swift as the sultry ones - swagger for days - aloof and untouchable - "Just go away".

Subtle forgiveness was penciled in rot -abstaining from quicksilver lessons he thought

"Apple shaped targets?" this weird maidens heart is a factory of gears that all grind with a start

IX

Quintessence, purses strings and cardinal demands, weaving his fingers through crucified hands

Fondling smoldering kingdoms of glass - "Sand in my eyesight,"  she sinfully asked

Cathartic - imparting this wisdom upon as the mask on his face does gives way to the pawn

Comforting cripples with zippers for lips all while shards of perfection steal barbershop tips

Companionship - sunken eyes - drown in the lake as the greatness of bodies of water intake

Angry as clamouring mountain folk groan, "Cavernous hillside. Some call it home".

Clamping considerate grips on her wings as they sell her for rubies and loose diamond rings

Foulest intentions from bittersweet ghosts, repenting for eagles with talons for toes

X

Painstaking chimps have their skulls opened up under practical willows with creatine tusks

Tedious dysentery fractures the press of impoverished illusions, "Why aren't you dressed?"

Trapped under flint rock - collapsing in filth - avalanche scoring and soaring from hills

Breathing out fire from chemical lungs, fringed with discomfort - flensing her thumbs  

Hot as fresh crystal - clanging like gongs,
cost of the gambit is mounting to some

"I'm not sure you'd go - if anyone knows," as your icy composure forcloses your glow

I'm content to think that anyone cares - it's a panicked delusion and I wouldn't dare

That's why you wake up just shaking in fear, sleepwalking in public,
the horsemen are near

XI

Waterweight - ******* - no one is home - send up the lizard - "I might as well go".

Jello shots - taking the bus to the tower - sticky and tenuous - eloquence strenuous

Pent up and sent up the labyrinth spire - elevate thusly, cables and wire

Incarcerate me as they douse you in ***,  sloppy and ****** - bloodied with ***

Warned of a fortune so spacial it ****** at the cosmic imprisonment laden and fixed

Misogynist epitomes launder transfixed on a native reserve burning nicotine sticks

Steeping a boiling *** - struggles display - "Are you gonna keep letting him talk?" Go away

Tearing her eyes up with digital pins - asunder they tore me with calico wings

XII

Vainglorious stitches - monogamy dead, shuffle to school without sutures or bread

Starving so beautifully no one is there emptying halls of his putrid despair

Wallow as germophobes glean to react, "I was hoping to bounce as the luster refracts".

Hookworms are evident dazzling tone - shoddy as hues on this luminous phone

Lioness named for the flame of our youth - rather you gargle my pain in vermouth

Flimsy as benzene - it seeps in my ***** - bartering spirits for paper and coin

Seltzer and alcohol, oh how I trust that you'll ****** me right into this shallow new husk

Casket misshapen - diving beneath the surface of every mistake I can see

XIII

There's more darkness in consciousness than you could know - pesticides rest inside nightmarish dreams

Tantamount, visceral -  mountainous screams, "Colossal magnetics start firing beams".

Floating upon rings of onyx and lime - the city was swept under soundwaves of time

The first night I met them, they washed me in light - fifty foot gypsies - lasers in sight

Demonized, ostracized - gaudy as hell -
trampling heavily - rotating noisily

Show boats with no hope to wake up and yell, quoted retraction - lucid reaction

Shadowy faces contorted and towering -  flinching and wincing, cringing and cowering

Flowering stupidly - running away - asking, "Can anyone help us today?"

XIV

Justify heartless precision you take on this rectified burials thirst to replace

Cresting some green fixtures spiraling waste - photonic windmill - sneezing with haste

Alkaline infants are tastefully conned into terrible matrons with hypnotic yawns

Grifting the shoulders our blades rest upon into sorry excuses for stabilized arms

Braced for the chance of a kick in face - "They offered me poppers with lemons in place",

Of some sort of wandering thievery race, gracing the shape of the nails in her face

Abstract absurdist - this faction is severed - luridly campy and hopeful he let's her in

Demonstrates how it all works when you die, "Your body keeps heaving perpetual sighs".

XV

"How would you like to experience death?" The smoke in his broken heart lovingly said

Typing cryptography under his breath - "Shade of a pyramid's awkward," it says

Scabs weld their fools on the tracks to the rails - locks crimson black as they whimper and flail  

Sabotage robots who walk on the ceiling - gibberish, ******* "Roaches are dealing".

Larynx absconded with starlings and doves - swallowing nestlings while fledglings make love

"Time to stop fighting," it bellowed and mourned - spongy testosterone - exercised horns

"Sodomites," - come to me - "Gumption eschews". Hilarious pictures that serenade you

"Unruly, infesting," - bowels of a God - evoking the pantheist's haggard facade

XVI

Catacombs yielded pretentious as mines - lines in the quake of awakening vines

Higher than killers with thrills who conspire to bask in our innocence, "Lakes made of fire".

Needlessly sending for doctors and kings - soldiers of vitreous letters know things

Nobody else could have possibly guessed, sauntering safely into our regrets

Twisting odd verbs in a blunder he spoke, "I wonder when they'll ******* thunder". She wrote:

"No one wants you to fly more than me".
Red as her blood was. Blue like the sea.

Operate casually - amateur alchemist
Practicing chemistry  - new occult balcony

Reaching a point of unparalleled strife -
Precedent slit - heralding the knife

XVII

Allergens checker an angelic frown - grinning to save face - numbing her crown

No one wants you to fly more than I - correcting her grammar... "I'd rather die".

System reset - she said, "Need to expire?" Curling so cowardly, "You're such a liar".

"Philandering suckerpunch," arteries whine - encumbered, sporadic - they plough through my spine

Clinching the gashes that poke in his sides - entryway clutter is littered with pride

"Heuristic Columbus," hypocrisy boons, "Exiling marrow," he passively croons

Fitful hounds - kerosene sheets - "Leave", - fueling the sparks of satanic relief

"Pastor, what have you got up your sleeve?" He actually thought he would get a reprieve

XVIII

Climbing down sideways - expanding deplores,  "dastardly hooligan - hands on the floor!"

"Stout absolution?","Storybook gates?"
"Novacaine icebox?" Hoodlum debates

****** as rangers with rifles and glocks, they're flocking like animals down at the docks

Fifty-six mannequins crouch in a row all while tantric eccentrics converge toe-to-toe

They're bowing in tandem and chanting in sync, "I swear to you mother, it's not what you think".

Ancestral wigs often shed temple spawn,
"Honestly kid, what the hell are on?"

"I don't know anyone higher than you".
Hairdresser puns are a noxious perfume  

Gripping strange stalks of white tight in his claws, "Bring me a lighter", he silently gawks

XIX

Ubiquitous - which is his festering moan, conspicuous stealth in the place of this poem

Tolerate surrogate - lecher bemoans - fostering pestering questions alone

Delegate consciously - losers go home - victory pasteurize hearts made of stone

Revving in dangerous jungles, you know, "I'm confusing the past with a future foretold".

Approved as a commune of toxic cartoons, the queen suffers no more than idle abuse

Deep in the pockets and dunes made screws we are trenched in this utter bereavement of you

Alice in wonderland  - Alice in chains -
Alice likes cannibals, torture and pain

I don't remember if that was her name -  cats in black dresses - are scratching in vain

**

Cross-legged in triangles, shells billow smoke, after everyone's lymphatic system is choked  

Sanctum synthetics - these viral fiends **** - oh how I loathe silken knights laced in cloak

Vitriolic and fatal - she's spiteful and mean - relinquish your insides, "I want you between".

Riding on horseback their sheaths slip behind, hypotenuse daggers have poisoned my mind

Isosceles vertices equal - they feast - growling in lateral scalene it creaks:

"Love all my friends," now the beast has a plan, "Triangulate all the new ravens I can".

Colonic intoxicants signal the fan of the chronic conception of too many hands

Again we're in triangles primed for the farce, exit the scheduled-impressionists art

XXI

Fantastic, predestined - the sickness is seen as the top hats and wizards make scientists gleam

He comments, "we all love you carry my breed to the temple of torment, I offer the seed".

Tally marks scoring with scarabs and ticks which impregnate the fleece of these humanoid tricks

Triangles, Triangles, "Beg me to stay,"
Parasite, Parasite, "Don't go away".

...
compilation
Tim Knight Apr 2013
Decorum is corrupt, decorum is dead, the books we told were good
            have all been read.
Fitzgerald has been bled dry by institutions, teachers and those guys in
            red chrome cardigans.
Those Pennine walks have turned to drunken talks in the eaves of the night,
            high above conscious thought and the cold glow candle light
The long haul flights back to the heavenly sight of tyre black
            tarmac have become tedious meditations;
though those lamentations still exist within my wrists,
            a yearning for your riverside kiss.
Bus journeys along roads and routes I already knew are
            changing without consultation,
it’s temporary probation, an experimentation, a test
            of time well spent.
Time well spent in ground floor, high rent, properties,
            fading away into a slack attitude disease.
Needles and fluid, *** and Cupid won’t lift you from this
            perpetual stall,
nor will anything at all; though maybe plans scribbled down on
            napkin edge corners will.
With thought, white paper vertices can quickly become
            mountain range peaks.
Throw politeness out of your transport’s window
            and become a widow to the road,
black veil eyes, cold and grainy, lost in your endeavour
            to find somewhere new to feel safe and clever.
Take those books that you thought were good to tear
            into the new prose of the year.
Rip title pages and dedication pages and index pages
            from the spine
and throw them in the air
            to make a new line of literature and pain.
Take also your pencils and strip them of
            their back bone lead
and shave them into clean kindling for fire start
            shavings for a warmer lonely camp bed.
It’s there and then, in your fake polyester,
            four season sleeping bag womb
that’ll you’ll experience the darkened tomb
            of unbound freedom.
But like paragraphs of small print found in the back of the squint-again-magazines,
            freedom comes at a price, as if long hair and lice or poverty and bedroom escapade vice.
www.coffeeshoppoems.com
Cross-legged in triangles, shells billow smoke, after everyone's lymphatic system is choked  

Sanctum synthetics - these viral fiends **** - Oh how I loathe silken knights laced in cloak

Vitriolic and fatal - She's spiteful and mean - relinquish your insides, "I want you between".

Riding on horseback their sheaths slip behind, Hypotenuse daggers have poisoned my mind

Isosceles vertices equal - they feast - growling in lateral scalene it creaks:

"Love all my friends," now the beast has a plan, "Triangulate all the new ravens I can".

Colonic intoxicants signal the fan of the chronic conception of too many hands

Again we're in triangles primed for the farce, exit the scheduled-impressionists art

Fantastic, predestined - the sickness is seen as the top hats and wizards make scientists gleam  

He comments, "we all love you carry my breed to the temple of torment, I offer the seed".

Tally marks scoring with scarabs and ticks which impregnate the fleece of these humanoid tricks

Triangles - Triangles - "Beg me to stay".
Parasite - Parasite - "Don't go away".
My strength has gone,
My soul has perished,
I lost my home,
The Light was vanquished.
Dystrophic sounds,
The brutal cacophony
Of silence and longing,
It's a bludgeoned symphany.
-
Caressing the cheek,
Fingers through her hair,
Smiling subtlely,
Then I awake without air.
The wind eats at each bone
The rain chills them still,
And what good is this home
Without her will?
The imagination runs wild
With dreams of perfection,
The qualities of flaws,
The insurrection.
Grieving turmoil and, alas, it has,
Been determined to happen as fast,
It creeps along its vertices,
Stoking fire of improbability,
Fending for myself, alone,
It seems to me I must here drone,
Wasting away every single chance,
To break free of a pallid trance,
I've always escaped my heart of thoughts,
I've always ended what all have brought,
I've always ended what songs she sings,
I've always brought about suffering,
I've always snuffed my last candle-light
I've always gripped the ledge too tight,
I've always choked the life from myself,
I've always drowned my sorrows in Hell,
I've always heard of my downfall,
I've always scorned the love in all,
I've always been plagued with bitter hate,
Although,
I'll always hate love, and love it still,
I'll always wish for someone until...
I'll always lust for something great
I'll always rush for my own fate,
I'll always need the hand to hold,
Whatever in my life may happen in the cold.
kiran goswami Feb 2019
If I were a colour,
I'd choose to be red,
Running down his veins
and kissing his
Curves and corners
and edges and vertices.
If I were a colour,
I'd choose to be pink,
I'd be the loving heartbeats that beat synchronized
and the love which is in the air.
If I were a colour,
I'd choose to be yellow,
I'd be the sunflowers in the field
smiling at the sun with sorrow.
If I were a colour,
I'd choose to be brown,
I will be the colour if his eyes
and the sparkle in them that never dies.
The soil on which he would sit and cry
and one fine day
leave me with a dejected goodbye.
If I were a colour,
I'd choose to be black,
embarrassing the moon and earth in my arms,
I'd be the colour they see
after the eyes are closed
and the world is dark.
regular delivery
it arrived with the standard 8 vertices
rigid and battered
******* box

i kicked it around the house
oh bout two months
maybe three
till i got sick of lookin at it
it started kicking me back
hard as hell
and right where it counts
you know what im talking about
chunking it out the window
never worked
just re-delivered
i had to sign for that *******
every time
my john hancock is all over it now

i should open it
rip back the crumpled packing tape
and just peer in

and when i did
and that rip stopped echoing
in the cave that is my room
and the moldy ***** were pulled back
the cavity was exposed
a cool gust shot up
curled back my mustache
and made me grin
like i just saw a russian blue
do a back flip

funny too
it smelled like you
sweet perfume
and that ***** drawer whiskey
i gasped and tried to **** it all in
to ghost that hit of you

i stuck my head in
to get all of it
licked the inside of the cardboard
for each last scrap

i made each fold into origami
crane
dragon
turtle
rabbit
so on

and just before i knelt down
to pray for another breeze in a box
i opened a window
and sat with my feet dangling
grinning with you all over me
sure that a wind
would soon blow up from the south
warm and loving
fragrant and laughing
to smack me
just when i need it most
Ryan Bowdish Aug 2013
put off on the sweat
There's something nauseous in my ****
United in the vertices and acid
The axis lamenting and venting
Sitting us out, putting it's mouth
Over you, over me and sorting
Tongue slide around move the mind without
Youthful thoughtful private number one

Exhumed adoption and children listless
Why don't you just give it to me?
I'm tired of gliding in this outlook
Let's ****, let's scream our pain out

Bees in needles and nails deflated
You flatten in your pool of stick
You shine in your muffled movements
This is a temple for the primal language
Words annoyed many moons before me
Howl under the eclipse dissolve me within
The translucency of the way we are
I feel it radiate
I can see her crawl
Away catlike in night
Try to spoil this moment
Let me feed you me

Forget hunger and dreams
Let's lose our minds in ecstasy
I'll never return
I'll never call you again.
Taru M Mar 2015
On the sandy shore of a distant memory, Euclid picked up a stick and began tracing the outline of some vague shape. At the first vertices he was interrupted by a hissing sound. Looking down in horror, what initially appeared a stick slowly coiled around his forearm and sank its teeth into his veins. As he watched the ocean spread its depths, he felt the sharp pain of platelets separating from plasma. Euclid walked into the gaping void and awaited reunion. Waves folding around him , his last sight was of a naked woman; she had the curves of a triangle.
Surrealism
William Crowe II Sep 2014
There is a vast, cool intelligence out there
watching & searching in the blackness of space
& reaching out into the vertices of time
to pluck our minutes from under our chins
& to steal our seconds from under our upturned
noses. They take our time & give us nothing
in return, unsympathetic to our four-dimensional
existence & our tiny ideas & our meaningless
ideals. They strike at the moment of ******
when we stare into the gateless gate &
all of life is white & drips like yolk from a
fallen egg, drips like snow onto the branches of
enormous trees, drips like ***** out of the
**** of a blushing *****, drips like milk
into a cylindrical glass, all the way to the brim,
& then filleth over to cover the wood of
a well-polished table.
Gigi Tiji Nov 2015
Here it is
coming together
slowly and quickly
points being connected
connections being disappointed
disappointments being appointed
appointed proportionally and
disproportionally
click clack
stick it together
vertices criss cross
bricks and feathers
interlacing lines and
concentric circles dance
in and out of time it is a
convergence
a coming together
a going apart
it is silk spun in
every way you can think of
it is spit spat from every mouth you've ever heard
this blob of tip tap gloopy gloop tick tack
criss cross criss cross make it last
make it first
on the bus or in the hearse
in between or outside of
either way it's kind of
all the same and
very different
but look at that
and then it's not
a ghost in the periphery
a shadow in the center
Meagan Moore May 2015
I fold in on myself
Like the wadded origami designs I could never fold quite right
Layer upon intricate layer, receding
Into a crumpled relic sheathed in dust patina
Taking up space, a relic to my past

I surrender to your guiding hands
As you carefully unfold and gently press my form
Unfolding myself to you
The desire for new edges
Shapes us –
Convening at the crux
Our vertices press into transformations
And I fold into you, unfurling concurrently.
5/10/15
Lee Turpin Dec 2011
The recognition was incomprehensible and I thought of my face in the mirror
the look and the sight of the white line cigarette pinched narrow and thoughtfully between his very first finger and his thumb. It was the pose of vocabulary. An expression of the understanding of words and the pauses that build them. A sigh for the sighs that frame them. He was an only. You don't look and forget.

I lean over throw my shoulders right in front of you towards the far corner of the room. A deep breath and my skin fills my dress. This is the physical of release, and the fabric falls. You fall into the light laid out on the floor your face follows up to me while it turns into a question. Adhere to vertices and hide the lift of your lash.

You want to know which way I'm going you mean by that which line of verse enunciates me next. I understand but you don't. In tiny things we find enough to let go. To demolish wholes, flood systems, blink. In tiny things we are commanded to go on. You’d known, but I - I had not yet walked home of solitude since we had spoken to each other without interrupting with another.

Open your Bible to show the empty room static that with more knowledge comes more sorrow you are very sad. You’re on the cross of tired and hungry because man does not live on bread alone and can we ever be sure of what God meant by that - especially when he conceived of distance. When you read the red letters give your eyes to the sky and keep a hand on either side of my face.

Deep underneath my eyes I think of you (I think you see me thinking you) and see you trying to write into crossing paths with poetry itself, specifically, the ****** embodiment when your words expand beyond yourself and with a turn envelop to evoke another. I open my mouth slightly, shut it and lift a hand to you to say: it walks in with it's own grace, beyond force. wait, love Everything, you try to create into it is only taking - only sit and wait. Until you stop taking, nothing. but you had known, the wait, I had not yet not known

the pause was helpless but the silence was becoming. There was no choice, we kept going
Chapter XXVI
Messiah of Judah III part
Miracle IV - Baptistery

Etrestles knowing that it was on a quiet hill in a beautiful hillside settlement east of Bethlehem, it provided unusual illumination. Etréstles; Champion of the Koumeterium Messolonghi, he felt that after thousands of years of his life, he felt in this Holy Land a great value of omnipresence. The Miracle of Christian protocol would begin in him, paying for votes and tributes in the Church of shepherd' s fields. In this rock of special mystique, “It begins its rebirth in its tenth life, before there were nine in Messolonghi (Koumeterium Messolonghi - Editorial Palibrio USA). A miracle happens that transports him to the caverns that would transport him from the oldest, from the nine past cycled epics in Kalavrita, Kalidona, Patmos, Messolonghi. Here you will see yourself face to face with past lives, with the lives that were born and fell, reborn in those that come, surrounding you with the shepherds that circulate through the veins of the air space, through the plain of the shepherds in shepherd´s fountain. In this analogue with allegorical motifs in commemoration of the shepherds and their flock, by which they are crowning this fountain, having before our eyes the sculpture of the shepherd and under his feet floral motifs such as palm leaves, heads of cattle, sheep and ducks in act of drinking. This hexagonal fountain contrasts with the Hexagonal Primogeniture; here is the miracle that would come about, to meet the intangible Creation and Illumination as clothing. They thought they were closer to the village ... but in reality they were three and a half kilometers from it, in a fenced area with a wide path that runs through the park on the hill between trees and lush flowers that clearly evoke the place where those 1st century shepherds led their sheep to pasture.

We were all dozing when, certain decagonal sounds would transport us through the church ..., in its decagonal plan surrounded by four chapels and the apse that houses the altar, covered by a large dome of mortar and glass that lets in, illuminating the altar as did the guiding star that pointed the way to the shepherds. Here the murals that protected us from the hosts of Aserá had already disappeared. Most likely, they were watching us with great chandeliers as they opened in the swamp of the sclera of our bare eyes. We were trapped by the quagmire that Raeder and Petrobus created, in these opaque clouds of sheep manure; they were trasminated through the corridors of the new worlds of culminating grazing. We went to its structure and above the entrance door the angel of the annunciation and above it, a singular bell tower, incorporated into the facade through three distended arches. Inside the beautiful fertile field, from a marble church in two colors the spaces to which the columns that support the roof also contribute could be emphasized. The chapels are adorned with precious frescoes that represent scenes of the annunciation to the shepherds and the arrival at the birth and the altar table that is supported by the sculptures of four angels, especially with the appearance of the hexagonal birthright in the middle of these stones.
  
Faced with this polygonal hexagonal effect in both parts, which were intra excavated at their own vertices. A straight line crossed them, from the north in a double semicircle that was concentric in the precise centric inscribed equatorial diameter of a circle that a sheep was lactated ..., here they arrive and are received with great hospitality by the shepherds who in symmetrical affability hugged them with their shofar on their songs and tunics…, each one was blessed by the rising air of another, rather than of a steppe grazed by ruminants and golden mouths. Twelve degrees to the right, in the sixth wick of the Menorah, a regular silhouette was lit, becoming of this intangible, whose thirst makes drinking water from a hexagon well, much more equidistant than walking among themselves, moving their hands with all their hands.    Diligent emotions, energizing the numb emotions that would vibrate from the third angle as they were coated with the vertices of the light that glowed from the convex morning.

They were six complex roots equalizing on the regulated plane of their animals, which were parked near the medium stone walls, where Raeder would climb to run over the walls, emerging more with each side in which to appreciate, embrace and emphasize the same forms, of which they could decide to generate a rebirth of two kings and that of Etréstles by a hexagon of internal illumination. Close to the church you can see caves, showy in the calcareous rock dating back to the fateful Herodian era, denoting some surprising utensils found, of which we know the mission of the chapel to found the diocese. Also made of rocks sculpted by Christian worshipers, under these temples we find the remains of a bakery with a large basalt millstone, a refectory and a primitive oil press, as well as a cave that served as a pantry and another as a stable alongside with a whole system of canalization of the water connected to some cisterns.

Etréstles, receives luminescent auto radiation immediately from caring and guiding, as it always has been, but now in a luminescent tenth life, by living connected to its own cisterns. A dog approaches him and shows him his paw ... how curious this dog had six fingers, there he was convinced that it was his generous shepherd, and that he would lead him through the internal labyrinths of his lighting by the sixth finger, to help more unwary and unconscious beings that enlighten and grant subconscious existence in fountains that have lost their law in outrage and self-rebellion. His rebellion would begin with the substitution of grass, not to depend, but rather to maximize them in the cavity of their stomachs, then he began to wander through the hills seeing how all his sheep fed on dry land, without any water source, allowing him to form food props that redeem him from the flesh and eternal grazing, to heal his internal temple and shepherd with hexagonal herds in rows of forage slopes, with grass and legume foods ..., all intra subjective spiritual.

Raeder ran along the cover of the stone walls, Petrobus circled the perimeter of the inert time of the upper cornice, the camelids raised their shiny legs filling their timpani snouts with herbaceous pastes, Alikanto sensed that only three kilometers away they were already it presented the stable, where to surrender to the intubating silence and the innocence of a super infant who came and went…, knowing everything. All the animals eliminated pastoral toxins and pheromones, leaving the sheep free of enterotoxemia, distributed in the soil and in the gastrointestinal tract of the youngest, the absence of bactericides of the Hexagonal Primogeniture did not appear in the holy ovine soil. The pheromones in this chapel were seeded between special and olfactory glands that would reign. They would fan its wings and its breaking abdomen by scrubbing it on the roof of the prominent chapel like a domestic hive. They would exchange the oral use of the inaugural floor to receive them in the animal creation, controlling the cells of the chapel and segregating the maintenance of the backward world. The mandibular pheromones were seen falling to the slab of the church, making the advances, to and from everyone's entrance, glued.

The pheromones of the sheep created recruitments of the others in the integument of each cognitive inflection, plotting them to enter the baptistery, something if it had never been possible. This was a great miracle in the rebirth of Etréstles, when they could enter their own womb ..., they lay on Etréstles, passing over her abdomen, generating honey from their own mouth, giving the pheromone of the sheep when they transit and the. Of the bees that provided her in her abdominal cell. Chemo Neurons and renewed receptors would be in charge of expanding the circulating olfactory lines, causing an electro transmission of energy never seen before. Everything happens  as a result of the metamorphosis of Etrésltes and his clothing of ten lives on the backs of the neurochemicals filling him through the largest lobe of the winch, which he had and carried in his hands and which he had requisitioned from the nearby mill of the ancient Christians who lived there.

The apostle says: “Each verse…, a molecule. Each surface and a new system ..., each membrane ..., rebellion of stimuli ..., energy chain, sentient organism ..., neural axon, physiology, science and the dark brain of eternal divine existence, six hexagonal angles of Shepherds and Primogeniture , creating together with a new genetics of harmonious existence that does not tire the eyes of the Creator, seeing how everyone has fun in their home garden "
Chapter XXVI
Messiah of Judah III part
Miracle IV - Baptistery
Gigi Tiji Dec 2014
buddha vishudha
sweet purple umbra
ajna penumbra helix ribbons
rise like feathers out of my face

I looked into our eyes today
I tried to smile when I was dripping with awe
and the corners of my mouth quivered 'til my jaw dropped

I sit and breathe deeply as I see our reflections
and the vertices of all our faces interlacing in intricate ways
I find myself breathing in their rhythm
I find myself telling my mother I love her

We cry jovial understanding into each other's eyes

I catapult myself up through
deoxyribonucleic staircases into
blossoming realms of emotion

There's no time! No words.
Everything is so familiarly alien
and entirely understandable.
I feel everything.
STLR Nov 2016
This is not for the Internet
Nor for the people with small minds & intellect

I'm gonna **** this ****
Make you feel like you hearing it

Reversing the hearse awaking spirits
Flash backs of my past life
death & life in the same vision

I am well spoken, I don't have limits

Intellectuals gather round

Abusive my words,
I use them to forge a sound
Spiritually I am bound
Lyrically I embrace
I'm an outer being
sending beckons from outer space
I cascade vivid arrays

I stay a stray
no need for distractions, for actions are soon to decay, we will all fade away
If time is of your concern your mental is in the fray

Monumental are my credentials
Magnified by 1 millions typed characters
Nouns, similes, Metaphorical Caricatures

all illustrated with my thoughts so that my imagination burns

verbal fortification
this is physical & mental
ABC Fornication
i penetrate with pen & pencil

ink splashed all the way back to the past
where i pick up the pieces & write my inner thesis alas!!

Student mighty morphed to teacher in class

Letters shaped the size of titans
they clash

I'm on a different level
mediocrity passed

Weegie board turned to Beat Machine
I distorted the devils laugh

I can finally say, THIS IS MINE, i have this ****!!!

Verbal Aerial pathogens...infected cross this digital earth
cross blogs, external links an other virtual passages

Execution, is an illusion if you don't know how to handle it
I've slanted words like Asian eyes which are well applied
like store discounts or letters of acronyms

Acrobatic an Systematic Literature formed out of pure passion is
quite a feat, like defeating an
enemy or your top nemesis

Extra curricular activities
divide minds mentally

I blaze cross alliterations
An dash cross similes
Actions are of an activist
Profitable productivity

I've reached a pinnacle
Riddles do damage
like swinging outer extremities

word play causes earth quakes & shatters ribs
of my enemies

Potent Poetic Vertices's Vanquish
Villains Vicinities

Humanitarian Hustler
puncturing profitability
narcissus necromancer negotiating
aeronautical abilities

methodical mysteries
motivate yet are menacing

lateral lyricist lunging letters linguistically

dedicated design distorted with no dependencies

propelling phonics plummeting
phrases physically

catapulted curriculum,
concussions caused critically

infatuated infections infuse
with my inks incredibly

Enough words to make structures
Nouns create sound stability

Mr. Poet Freak Forever and on to
Ink-finity
Meagan Moore May 2015
We echo the chaos portrait,
a dictum of quantum entanglement
Pervading into the breadth of dynamic space
Fingers and hard planes
Lips stained with stardust,
Of where our vertices convene
5/10/15
Jikai Zheng Jan 2018
I was reflected over the x-axis
And then translated into the third quadrant
All negative coordinates
On my three vertices
TIMAH Feb 10
The shape of the reason why I am not getting any response from you,

                it's ʀʜᴏᴍʙɪᴄᴏsiᴅᴏᴅᴇᴄᴀʜᴇᴅʀᴏɴ

20 regular triangular faces,
30 square faces,
12 regular pentagonal faces,
60 vertices and 120 edges,
Yet you told me our hearts are asymmetrical?




Paint me as the woman you once loved,
Blend my past and future into one another

                 in sfᴜᴍᴀᴛᴏ

Without lines or borders,
With myriads of minuscule brushstrokes,
Till the smoke hoaxes their visual for few seconds,
Albeit they know what they saw some time after,




The melody of your heartbeat,
Just like my poems,

                   it's ᴜɴʀʜʏᴛʜᴍɪᴄ

"Lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub lub lub lub-dub",
Every single night failed to lullaby,
So all this time I've been an insomniac,
Wide awake studying the pattern of your pulse as you call it a night.
Yazad Tafti Jun 2019
here's a picture
look in to the infrastructure of the fine frame
the outer border allures inward
vertices crosshair a centroid
the fine pigmentation due to stencil work and rich bold dabbing of acrylic paints merge to formulate images
blending, mashing, complementation of colours
azure, zyon, topaz, vermillion
i see a puddle and my interpretation is my reflection
i see a disemboweled figure who's ****** features exclaim "out of proportion"
bold petal ears, swelling rose cheeks, wrinkled eyes and a protruding thorn of a nose
i see beauty as the people in the painting smile back and joyfully prance
we laugh together as we see the same thing...people stuck in a frame watching the work of others pass them by as they remain idle for their idols
i'm thinking within the box
Larry Potter Mar 2019
I keep hanging by these tangents
Of your dashes and curves
Trying to figure out how every
Version of your twists and turns
Unravels into a canvas
Of visual perfection.
It's perplexing, really
How you mend your schisms
Into waltzing polygons
Every time I break you down
Into fractures of your selves
I end up lingering in your angles
Of oblique abstraction
Turning vertices into suns
And edges into horizons.
Then I reconstruct you
From your purest form
This brush provoking
Both palette and palate
For every stroke and spatter.
Your beauty didn't mind
What madness to this method
The monochrome requires
To finally become free
And shackled at the same time.
The shape of the sun; circle
The shape of a city block, square
The shape of a baseball field, rhombus
The shape of a house, pentagon.

But the shape of a home
Is based on what lives inside.

A pyramid proves a simple structure can still succeed
All lines involved
Connect to complete a common goal.

An octagon interludes
So all sides can solidify
A promising whole.

So what is to happen
To a house with
No shape?

When the lines are misconstrued
And the corners are mismatched.
A splatter on a plane
Lacking effort to be real.

A shape is not a shape
If there are breaks within the lines.

A shape is not a shape
If everyone neglects the vertices.

Geometry should have been priority
while planning a family.
JP Goss Sep 2019
Too many ghosts
Who’ve drank from the Grail,
Have commented on its peculiar shape:
A vital substance in a Klein bottle
Has nourished the metaphysical,
And gave it suppleness
Like skin, but without nerve-endings—
Like plastic
These mobisian volatilities have taken
All vertices outward, prisons of prisms
Are not special to the spirit inside
But the monstrosity appearing
Astride the Rio Grande:
Eyes and ears posted
All along the prism’s edge
Contain so many lives yet to be lost,
The arms of the ghost
Surround the outside
With rusted-over armor to keep the Fates
Locked away indefinitely
Beating, starving, and ******
All lives coming to the edge of the undead.
There, from across the impossible barrier,
One can see the astral projection
Of death-animate within—
What is a prison outside is, by definition,
A prison inside
Guarded by a lily-white panopticon
And its pale imitations
Kept warm and safe in the rebel’s undead embrace.
When the transformation happened
Is anyone’s guess, but by the love
Of a dispassionate hatred,
A distant, fever-dream voice
From a white house upon a hill,
A clarion made of echoes,
The prisoners latch to one another
And form the body of a great scavenger—
By the vulture’s keen eye for death,
It picks off those who cannot stand
On their own two feet,
Those poor, huddled masses,
In one hand holding the AR-15,
The other, a bushel of nooses.
The vulture screams!
Ride, ride you wraiths!
To the border, ride!
The invasion of pained flesh
Shall never break the adamant heads
Of the patriot’s ghost, hungering
For the blood of a place
Victimed by the very body
It sought to bury,
As the body labors,
Eats nothing but its pride,
Drinks nothing but the slop
From ****-and-vinegar soaked
Rags of American flags strewn,
Torn asunder, ringing them out
To, one day, make Molotov cocktails
So hot, their blaze could boil ectoplasm and
Finally rattle staid hearts
Thousands of miles from the suffering,
A distance turned artist, apathy and hatred
Become this new face of humankind.
kevin wright Jul 7
The docile cork passes us by
as we struggle between the waves
torn between moon and sun
drawn out to open waters
followed by megalodons of our world
viewed by haughty fishermen

plummeting below the frothy waters
spun around in vertical vertices
turbulence taking hold
crushing pressure pulling down
the light above fades
red hands start to turn blue
lips start to tremble
bubbles trickle
up up up

a presence appears, I am not alone
a dolphins beak nudges me gently
the eyes ingratiate my being
I feel my breathing ease
my lungs now as one within the space
tension around my head is released
audacious colours are diverse

the motion of the water provides comfort
the dolphin fills my being
at one the boundaries of sanity are established
I power for the surface in confidence
the water erupts
suspended in air folds
I bark in delight
freedom

fingers drill into my soft tissues
my breath is warm amongst the towelling
toes and fingers tingle
my nose walks through the lavender field
drifting banks of pollen powder my bare back

carefree, what a great time to live
the door closes
I enter my world again
same time next week
out of control, taken to another place, release of the body,  a dream,  power of the massage,
AD Mullin Jan 2018
Architecture waiting to be embodied
Boxes and boxes of un~buried treasure

No time for writing the stories
Already in extra time, flitting about and anxious for
Focii to make themselves known thus leveraging the
Many vertices of an under~powered power structure

To repair the leaking forms
Of our realities, seeking assistance
In bringing to life that which
Dreams are made of

Built on soul iron or iron in the soul
I prefer the latter to the former
Not really enjoying those entities who
Extract rather than add value

Willing to teach and learn and flow
As cupid and psyche dance the roomba
Soul butter >>>> and schtuff

— The End —