"volatility" poems
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze
A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze,
Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard *****
And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls.
Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast
Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast
From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin
Gay Paree to London town then way out east again,
Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all
And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall.
Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue
Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through
An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past
And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast.
Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash
Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash
In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies
Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies.
Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years
Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears.
A sudden realisation of immensity of loss
Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across
The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply
And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky.
Global collapse of all electronic gear
No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years.
Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that
And the day is as dark as the cold night is black.
And here all we sit, in the here and the now
On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower,
With a fools pudgy finger just inches above
The nuclear button…and all that we love.
……You fear the insanity, sense the insane
Knowing that people like this are holding the reign?
Knowing that volatility strikes
Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife.
I don’t have the answers to hand
But someone out there, knows how…and can.
The sands of time are running thin
URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN!
M.
Planet Earth
6 March 2019
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 12:46 AM UTC
‘…. and now, here’s Rick with the latest Market news…’
‘Val, trading was very brisk today, with a number of influences
that set the market off to some defined trends and statements.
Of course, the Human Virtue Exchange always seems to rely
on the volatility that resides ‘between the ears’ as noted
by the veteran brokers on the floor, but the sharp ranges
of prices offered versus profit taking has set the bar
very high in the relative value of Basic Human Virtue.
Now to the numbers: Courage [WHOME], Patience [PP],
and former market darling Perseverance [GULP],
all varied widely today on news from Washington that
their value was doomed to fall in the light of the expected growth
of Persistence [IAM] which history has shown to be a marked drag
on just about everything. Outside of the self –efficacy bazaar,
old standbys Ambition [HVY], Curiosity [WDF], Industry [HAHA] and Temperance [BFD],
continued their free fall into uncharted areas of cost and return.
Some analysts feel these virtues could be a real bargain in the future
despite their history of poor performance. Could a comeback not seen
since collapse of the Protestant Hypocrisy Era be in the works? We’ll see as the lack of movement in the Kindness-Generosity-Forgiveness-Compassion Index [FARAWAY]
leads many to believe that the end of Politeness [UPYRS],
Un-pretentiousness [ME-ME], Self Control [NWAY] and Sportsmanship [LONGONE], may lead to a complete miss-understanding between casual market players and devotees to the cause. The ratios cannot lie.
But without a doubt, today’s big winner was Self Respect [YUP]
which jumped and amazing 40 points before active trading ceased at the bell. So people feel real good about themselves for reasons
that cannot be explained by the Ego File Indicator alone; this causes this reporter to predict that Naval Gazing [MOM] remains a ‘Hot to Trot’ stock fund
and the Vanity market is always a good bet.
Now, here’s Carl with
today’s Human Emotion Exchange report……’
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
an incredible incite (the ruthless volatility of words)
~for L.B.~
the only place of solitaire solitude in the city accompanies me
like a faithful country dog that doesn’t know better to be afraid,
of moving cars, sleepless night terrors and unscripted “dreams”
where image and words say come “follow me” with ruthlessness and no cloying come hither looks and
see and take and recall with perfect midnight blue sky clarity for
the incredible incite of credible insight
surfacing unexpectedly in a intemperate pool of slushy snow,
that will be an ice storm of painful confrontations with naked
inner truths standing outside in sunny sub zero playground
there is great risk. volatility gone wild. when the speed
governor is removed and you live at 100 mph on local streets,
when the merest slight of an accidental incidental touch
transforms into an incite incident and hell is the threat
that you will not die today and your own words will ruthless
pull from the nerve places where sensible and sensual cannot
coexist and this write this script is a poetical insight inside, an
incredible incite and what your spilling is spaghetti sauce blood
when you left your brain on broil, instead of the faking daily of
slow simmering ineffectual intellectual words that just don’t
cut the crap. your addiction complete, you cannot live without
the incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words,
otherwise why rough write what you see
in the blind
beyond the blind
1/6/18 5:03am
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 5:17 AM UTC
How?
If even there were
A force in this universe
Sustaining life beyond just breath
Beyond this web of neurons
Firing in predictable patterns
Prescribing every inclination and desire
A flame in which is fully forged
The consciousness that
Dreams and dares all things
Beyond our mere survival
If even there were such a force
How would it be made known?
How does a foundation work
When the fundamental building blocks
Are massless, pointlike?
As much wave as particle
Basking in the sunlight of uncertainty
Existing in duality
How, when everything else is
Nothingness
A void a million billion times more extensive
Than anything substantial
That surrounds it
A vacuum that renders
The remaining matter pointless
How could force be hollow
Yet encompass all
What does it all mean
When all of matter falls in between
This unseen field
Rippling, wriggling, rigging
Everything it fills with the seedlings of decay
Each day
Moving along the breakdown towards
Entropy
Splendid chaos,
Almost too perfect to be called such
How could we not see
The force
Still elusive, but unchanged
Striking a balance
Between fate and volatility
The neverending battle
That morphs each how into a why
The demon and the butterfly
Nov 11, 2021
Nov 11, 2021 at 5:34 PM UTC
So many are filled with hostility
hostile world, we're living in
in a place of constant volatility
volatile minds, never giving in
this world needs new possibilities
possibly, we can fix this place
place me in a world of viability
viable living for the human race
will we ever sow the seeds of fertility?
fertile growth for all of mankind
mankind needs a brand new civility
civil ways should be re-defined
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
Love is a roller-coaster with volatile emotions emerging from within.
To deny its existence will inevitably cause irrefutable sorrow guiltier than a sin.
Tis’ is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Oh, the wise words of Alfred Lord Tennyson, how you enlighten us from afar.
An unfathomable angst intertwined with a euphoric state of passion.
Caged with inaction yet stupefied by its glorious reaction.
This volatility is not confusion, you see.
I am witnessing myriad waves of emotions emerging from the abyss within me!
Is it true? Could it be?
Has my unconscious decided to compose a poetic tragedy out of me?
Triggering aloofness and indifference to the goodness it perceives?
Have I become too jaded to feel real love literally?
This tender feeling deriving from my soul,
Yearns to journey beyond the engrained barb-wired pine road.
However, the universe continues to reverse the roles.
Now it's apathy that causes the heartache of this man’s soul.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
those who observed me while i was dormant
marveled at my majesty
unaware of the volatility that i barely kept contained
i was roped off, labeled with a tidy wooden sign that told me and others
what i was
a stoic monument and stable mountain
while at my core i seethed, i did my best to be what i needed to be in order to be witnessed
inevitably i erupted, frightening the gathered onlookers with a blazing rain of lava and a suffocating cloud of ash
the sky grew dark and it felt like the end of the world
but i needed to scream and i didn't mean to hurt anyone
i've had far fewer visitors since that day
i was fenced off, labeled with a rusting metal sign that told me and others what i was
a volcanic monster and volatile menace
i wonder
as i quietly crumble into the sea
if i will be remembered by humanity
and if so
will it be as the mountain
or the monster?
in the end
i think i would prefer to be forgotten
Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 2:28 PM UTC
And then there's the blood
But I can't feel my own skin
A knife in the hands of volatility
The sight of my own, estranged
Losing a handle on reality
Although it was never all that firm
I’ve lost the meaning in morality
As well as the meaning in this mortal boundary
Was the knife in my hands cause I'm shaking
In the mirror I stare, my vision is fading
Is it the end again?
The tiles are stained so deep in my masochism
A fitting match to this porcelain heart
The broken lines that I've utter may reflect
the lines that I have etched on myself
Cutting away the innocence or whatever was left
The damage is forever unending
Slipping in the broken pieces and bleeding
In the hours I’ve screamed through the pain awakened
Through the red, white, and black I’m escaping
In remembrance of what I’ve forgotten
Regrets that have could never be amended
Is it the end again?
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
When brand becomes bland
and routine and rituals
move in rigid homogeneity.
When monocultures spread
like healthy cancer
and our volatility meter
sits still at fever.
When popular financial service
say, that "the center
can't hold anymore."
When sleeping frogs
never wake even
though the enthalpic
belly satiates fully
and any tiny misanthropic
speck will spark
nucleation around
a waking me.we
When these blocks
fire in the deep,
then our dog clan stirs,
a smiling hive feasting
on dead amphibians
left motherly as sustenance
to begin a Trickster's
journey.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
#
*--never goes away
when forgiveness is forever an option.
Intensity, passion, and conviction..
each have a volatility all their own.
In other words.. **** happens sometimes
when two Heavy hitters become close.
If there is heartfelt value,
and enough honesty..
nothing close and good
within the Realms of Love
is ever truly over.
You make a wonderful conduit*
#
Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 1:57 PM UTC
I won’t forget the way you shared your bed with her while I carried your child in my womb
I won’t forget the way you bulldozed my grace and love just because I would rebloom
I won’t forget the way you left me standing in the streets of Montreal—the reckless, frigid free-for-all
I won’t forget our heart-to-hearts, fall-aparts, fresh-starts
I won’t forget our once shared-dreams, fire-water color schemes; tip-toeing, balance-beams
I won’t forget your lack of self-acceptance; your fear, resistance, dependence
I won’t forget the way you disguise your loneliness; insecurity, disappointment—
your selfishness; inconsistency, vacant empathy
I won’t forget your impatience; porcelain ego, complacence
I won’t forget the way you’d kiss my feet; plead for forgiveness; make promises, repeat
I won’t forget an honest memory of you—instability, volatility
But I will only ever wish you depth, perspective, and humility
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
.oh look, i can take a screen-shot... so i don't appear as some rambling internet lunatic... sorry about the outcome of what my original ought to have looked like... out of my Pontius' hands... just like a retired person doesn't understand mobile phones... me and a.i.? can we go back to when i could have understood Dunkirk?!
ever notice this?
the NPC meme...
see the transformation
when you insert...
eyebrows?
\ /
. .
/_
_
oh look, a rabbit?!
volatile buggers...
listen...
what?!
i didn't say anything!
i couldn't get the angle right...
does vvvv or wwwww
represent a grrr: of frustration
of clenched teeth?
let's see...
\ /
. .
/_
_
satan! oh, hey bro, thanks
for coming...
\ /
. .
/_
vvvv
**** that's not going to work...
you can't craft memes using
letters, letters are too complicated
for a meme...
you need the reserve bank of
punctuation and "punctuation"
markers...
****
my bad...
you know... the nights that i spend
listening to music,
and not listening to alt. media
commentators?
SLOUGH, S'LOW,
SL'OH....
the hours pass, slow...
if they ever translate...
oh look... 'ere one...
'ere one for the memes...
__
ΙΧΘΥΣ ιχθυς / __ /|
|__ |/
kevin & perry go large...
what?
*big fish, little fish,
cardboard box*?
don't know the dance routine?
it's a ******* classic...
a bit like the Sheryl Crow
debut album.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
Spring has sprung
Weeping cherry blossoms
Waiting to scatter
Like memory fragments
Upon the ground
Sad wistful blooms bleeding life
Beautiful mortality
Accepting of its volatility
Bursting into being
Destined to scatter
Blooming en masse like clouds
Accepting of karma
Accepting of blooming
Blooming as flowers of death
Exultant in scattering a beautiful death.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 3:01 PM UTC
So many are filled with hostility
hostile world, we're living in
in a place of constant volatility
volatile minds, never giving in
this world needs a new possibility
possibly, we can fix this place
place me in a world of viability
viable living for the human race
will we sew the seeds of fertility
fertile growth for all of mankind
mankind needs a brand new civility
civil ways need to be re-defined
(wrote this under my new loop rules)
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Questions are often asked
about my optimistic smile,
the happy-go-lucky personality
and unwavering confidence.
The most common question:
*How do you know
these things?*
I don't ******* know.
I know nothing.
I have no ******* idea
where 73% of my thoughts, words and ideas come from.
I don't even feel like it's "me"
speaking/typing most of the time.
Sometimes I have no idea
that i'm telling you
It's going to be alright
because the words just
charge out of my mouth.
But I'm saying what is inside my brain.
I don't think about it.
That's my reaction.
Confused yet?
In the end
it's all going to be alright
cause we'll be dead.
Either our conscious ceases
or we are reconnected to all things--
that complete warm one-with-all feeling
some call god or heaven or nirvana
but we're going to forget all this stupid **** anyway.
I have no clue what I do or don't know,
between your volatility of perception
and society trying to hypnotize me
into complacency while it slowly burns away,
I'm lucky to know my own ******* name.
If you want answers to life's questions,
stay away from me.
Ask someone shrewd enough
who pretends to know.
Personally, I don't think there are any answers
because they are whatever each person
wishes them to be.
I can only tell you
what I feel and see in each moment
as it's happening.
Ask allah, preachers, Zen, astrophysicists, philosophers, Reikis, dictionary writers, lawyers, mathematicians, astrologists, Buddha, Industrial engineers, the ******* guy who delivers your food (or anyone really) for answers
and more than likely you will have different kinds of **** answers.
But if you ask yourself,
you will find truth.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 9:43 AM UTC
"Dear Diary" I wrote at the top of the page. I've turned to these wretched pages because I have no one else to turn to.
I have been wanting to runaway for sometime now. I have an estranged sense of nostalgia towards places I haven't even been to.
Did you know that you shattered my heart? That a shard of ***** lacerated my ribcage? & so I've concluded...
That perhaps one day, when I'm 22, I will cut my hair short and runaway to new york and try to find a big sweet apple they've always talked about.
I will disregard my birth name and I will end up telling everyone I meet that my name is Aphrodite, but I am not greek nor am I a lover. I'll write poetry. The good poetry and the bad poetry. I'll write poetry the way you called your quits, blank eyed and confusing. And may the next person to make my heart glow, be just as kind as you, minus the volatility, equivalent charms.
Laugh as sentimental as 100yr old harpist.
Smile as transfixing as a dim star, on a moonless night
Eye's as beautiful as the sun..
But just as the sun, I never could stare to long.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
please know that I love you more than the stars, the sun, and the skies could hold.
but I don't know how to fix something without damaging it the process.
you are fragile, and my hands have unintentionally fractured you countless times. I know this, even though you've never explicitly told me.
I dance on eggshells around you: I am atlas, pirouetting across an empire of thin ice, just so I don't mar you with my words.
swallowing conversations and feelings is a talent we both possess. to spare the pain of the other, we dampen the truth. we drink the fires of resentment and leave them to ferment.
I cannot fix this without potentially damaging it further.
I'm a storm with skin. my collateral damage knows no bounds, spares no mercy. you know this. but hear me, and heed me closely.
I don't paint you as the villain. you aren't the martyr. we are equally responsible for this damage and decay. the rot of something once beautiful.
yet I cannot fix something without causing further damage.
we are a two way street. growth of beauty cannot flourish in stagnation.
please, do not test the limits of my volatility. I cannot mend the tatters of thirteen years with a single spool of thread.
I refuse to swallow fermented resentment. I walk on eggshells carrying mountains for you no more.
this tapestry will end in one of two ways: opulent splendor, or devoured by living flames.
I cannot fix something without destroying it in the process.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 6:29 PM UTC
The birds speak of a kindred soul
One that basks in the afterglow
of a solemn moon lingering in the daylight
and you watch as nights go on
the way it changes phases
falling in love with the idea
of embracing the volatility of life
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:30 PM UTC
1) ***** the black shards perched inside your chest
and spill the volatility arrows charring your lungs.
2) Let a garden of tulip vocabulary grow where it’s slain
and water it with the residue of your wasted tears.
4) Gift a bouquet of poetry from your garden to
your lover.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
Error 404: Higher brain function not found
We are sorry to inform you,
But the thought machine is out of order
Please, step back and remove your quarter.
We are taking your thoughts Tough Mudding
They must now swim through wet cement to reach your consciousness,
But fear not
There are legions of them 'Worming their way through your soft tissues
In between apathy and emotional volatility.
What's that?
You say you're going crazy?
Oh, my darling,
Nothing but a case of spontaneous dyslexia
Words and numbers were made to be in motion,
Slipping through your grasp and changing location
Just a spot of fun
It hurts to think
To exist is to be locked in a dance of exhaustive hyperactive misery
There is something wrong with my thoughts
Please, I do not want to listen to myself think
May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 8:30 PM UTC
I escaped from the Cognitive Radiance Suppression Clinic two nights ago
Slipped through the pressure cracks unnoticed
No precautionary measures
Just focus
On the outside I sung
Swept into a tornado of metaphysical
****** into a whirlpool of the spiritual
I was connected to the universe
Amplified by my well versed tongue
However, the reverie didn’t last long
My mind was confiscated
I was told its volatility needed to be monitored for safe measures
Now it’s attached to suppression plates
In that asylum I lay dormant
Patiently waiting for my next outbreak
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 9:00 AM UTC
Hoping she’s sleeping
Not creeping about
And in silence I’m keeping with
Demons of doubt
They keep nagging
And bragging
I told you so
Knowing
Before she invaded my heart
Overflowing
In storms of her turbulent
Surge volatility
Scourge of the underworld
Urging virility
Silly me thinking
She loses control
Just misplaces her mind
And embraces the cold
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 3:35 PM UTC
Even if from a distance confined
Realisation of the greatest respect
By life’s volatility remaining aside
Still craving to protect
Understand for a fact
That even if a worst fortune
Prevented me to act
And accede to no more importune
Despite lying on the ground
No longer dwelling in the trails
Words unable be found
Prevented to share tales
Veiled in the dark of night
My gaze no longer hunts yours
Eyes not reacting to light
My affection still endures
Wind forever forsaking my lungs
Heart that have no more hours
The words shorten in our tongues
When I alone await in the tomb
For the cycle to be complete
Returning to the womb
Making this life obsolete
Still aspiring to be your knight
When life no longer allow
Quiet and resolute I will fight
To fulfil my silent vow
Hear my lonely plight
Angel in all your shine
Help me with my regard
Complete my vision
Always in her guard
Replace me in my mission
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 7:26 AM UTC