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My Brother
First born of immigrants

First to taste the soil of “paradise”
First to take his culture and compromise

For that is all we do is compromise

My brother
First born of immigrants

Genius in diapers through my eyes,
Potential terrorist and news threat terrifies.

My brother, no soul can understand
For his is too great to be studied by man

My brother was taught no accent is just.
Lose your roots or bite the dust.

My brother

And it is he that stands at the bottom of that mountain of injustice.
And it is he that must climb.
And it is he that must not ache.
And it is he that must forgive, for that is what a good little boy does.
My brother

D equals M over V.
D equals V times T.
C equals V times lambda
Long wavelength, short wavelength, photon, photon, photon

If x equals 5 then velocity is 97.329 meters per second,
Then acceleration is 6.03 meters per second squared.

Waves have a frequency.
Long wavelength, short wavelength
Small frequency, high frequency

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Ache. Ache. Ache.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Ache. Ache. Ache.
Oh. God.


Run, boy, run.
Show them what you can do.

Run, boy, run.
Show them what you can do.

Run, boy, run.
Don’t look back, Lot!


Wake up, boy!
Wake up, boy!

Yah albih!
Yah euyorhih!

My heart!
My love!

My brother
First born of immigrants

Now sleeps.

My brother
First born of immigrants

Cannot see for it is we that have blinded him with our iniquities.

My brother
First born of immigrants
Will not wake until this madness is gone.

My brother
First born of……
oh what’s the use?
This poem was written for my actual brother who is working to achieve his Master's degree in physics.
He was the first to suffer the discrimination in our small town.

                                                                          No one seems to like Middle Eastern kids.
I'm sorry.
This is for you, bro.

Because of you, no one shall dare hurt us.
sage short Dec 2015
You wipe away my sorrows
The wavelength between
our hearts and breathless breathing
must be the definition of love
or maybe it's the stars
playing as ventriloquists
I think of you all the time
because you're in everything;
even the air I breathe
and I will lock that
in my wavelength for you forever
Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.
Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.
Jacob Oates Apr 2014
I get sick of cliches, I get sick of  the tropes

I get sick of affected twits and how love had them on the ropes

If I let myself breathe the same air as everyone else I'm gonna choke

I can't help but breathe her in and feel I've gone beyond the scope

Of my, simple visions of destroyed inhibitions

and I, can't help but get nervous how she changes up my focus

Can I, convey this handedly while knowing understandably

That I'm leaning on a danger to a core that I've exposed

We've leaned down for contact, she pushed me I push back

The pressure on our hearts has potential for explosion

The languish I had locked inside interior erosion

Implodes, he dotes of notes he'd wrote to quote a query quietly

Distrusting of emotions, just a quiver can inspire me

Fearing no enemy, fearing no evil entity

Fearing only connection and if I'm wasting my energy

Love brought me happiness but it stirred up the cobwebs

Little demons laying dormant til I explored them in every form

in every figure in every norm til they've distorted my performance

But as pandora's box was 1st class special ordered to my doorstep

I dove in straight for signs of hope, a passing look could soon afford this.

She voices her fears, connections lost by the distance

I'll bridge the gap to defend her, no need she says with persistence

She's scared of monotony, she gets scared of the tropes

She gets sick of affected twits and how they leave her with no hope

If she's forced to breathe the same as before she's gonna choke

I leaned in for contact, I push her, she pushed back

We're two shades of the same Wavelength

Our angles just refract.
for Kaitlin.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Do you really think
everything you
see and touch or
love with such care
Has your name on it
   *      *      *      *      
*Divinity meet the Great

     *      *      *      *      
Lifetimes healing two freaking amazing feet

The house Mr. and Mrs.
   I suppose?
I double dare them
Great Play "Domino"
Where art thou freaking
Lover of all time Romeo

Prince and the Pauper her lovely
peasant dress the big catch of the day
This is the fisherman
All hooks and bait of
The naked play Julliete
So totally wherein

The spiritual home
never doubt I love

Shakespearian historian
Two Love DovesVictorain
Spiritual growth

Freaking Great Earth

Defines your passion
The best creation your birth
Our defeat nothing turns
automatically sweet

This is our
"Great Expectations"

What to value anymore
Constitution versus the
Freaking Show Institution

Full bloom maturity growing
adventure unknown
On the same wavelength
He still dresses the same
In the Same town
New York Serendipity
Ice cream cookie dough mix the
freak shakes

That's great no time for breaks
The Baskin sin Robbins
Robin Bob Bobbin

People are not surviving
Their world is too weak
They cannot stretch to hold

The French connection kiss
fourteen carats of gold
Making a rise in good stock
Cattle sold
The Trump Tower fall out stars
The great year for puzzles

The worlds are full of moments
when we shouldn't be laughing
Not a great time he meets your
Round star of tears kindness

In her movement happiness walk
The worst times bring out her
   freaky nature  

Never aches either to change
Furniture looks modern cold
freaking great hot she was told

To be bonded in a marriage
Feeling older like her antique
wicker baby carriage
Eiffel tower the powerful
romance hour meeting her
happy hour

He is shopping for suits
Going back to his Brooklyn roots
smells of food feeling good

Getting into someone's mind
Meet Robin Hood
If I can turn back time the vessel
The Joker wild fossil

Like a freaking booker
there is no guarantee
The Suspense is killing me
don't freak out

Not paying your rent on-time
Those specks marked up your glasses
Time passes but your making a
spectacle of yourself

Imagine the world all alone
Brillantina smiling at
the Mona Lisa petite ballerina
Great Professor brother
Freaking out sister
Two-headed circus the Freakshow  
The haves or
the have-nots week went slow

The trees someone's apple poison
Gives someone such pleasure
companion what a complicated

  Too deeply dwell in the possibilities

Each morning we are born again
Broke some blood capillaries
Or time will tell the Vampire Diaries

Tomorrow is another day
How you wish every day was payday

Almond eyes creaminess
The pick-up color of your dress
What is curdling freaky spooking
No time to Hail the Mary
Milk Soy what a cute
little miracle boy

Even talking on your
Light up tree ringtones
Out of your comfort
high cheekbones
Egyptian Camels sandstorm
Kiss your Mother just feel

His smile fireplace candescent
With your lover, he could
paint your body how
time just went in a heartbeat

The world is moving but
you're losing some gravity
But he lifts some parts
Sinking your teeth into the
best corn on the cob

Medieval times his
sword is taking
Anew freaking shape
Emerging and peeking out
Hair is French braided fine

He zooms out freaking great
one of a kind Corvette
Calling to you your name
He told the world
standing like a God
We are all freaking great
Poets* Just start to know it
This is freaking great or not we laugh sometimes when things aren't funny but that's okay we need to move on and make it the better day even if our prayers are not answered its in our hearts the best parts are you-you are the freaking great
Sergio Esteban Oct 2018
I’d like to be away
In a world far away
But that won’t escape
The world inside my brain

I’d like to stop the time
Live frozen between the lines
But that won’t bring me closer
To a picture perfect moment
That you and I never had

I want to live on your wavelength
Travel with you
At the speed of light
Any barrier
And travel parallel
To your sweet and endless path

I want to tell you that I love you
Have the courage
To make you mine
Too bad I lost the fight
That was going
Inside my mind

I’m endlessly falling
For someone like you
But I’ll gladly fall forever
If the destination leads to you

I think of you every night
And wonder where you are
Do think of me the same way?
Do you have the same thoughts?

I’m sure one day I’ll meet you
The moment won’t be perfect
But perfection is overrated
I’d rather meet you
In any way
As long as it leads me
To your mellow heart

My sweet nebula
Travel to me
As fast as you can
I’d do the same thing
If I wasn’t stuck behind
But I’m moving on
You’re my motivation
Even if met you I have not
Kimberly Clemens Oct 2013
I keep telling myself it's okay
But, in all honesty,
That's a flat out lie.
I can't deny it.

If I'm driving to who knows where
If I'm sobbing my eyes out
If I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
If I'm yelling at myself for ******* so badly
If I'm wishing I was someone better
If I'm hoping no ones home to see me
If I'm thinking about how much of a failure I am
If I'm pretending that I can pull it together
If I'm assuming I can break the news without losing it
If I'm sitting in a random neighborhood
If I'm writing this in the confinement of my car
If I'm hoping I can disappear for a day
If I'm completely done with all this trying stuff-

Shhhh, it's alright.
No, it's not.

If I'm set on trying again, I'm an idiot.
If I'm going to practice even harder for next time, I'm wasting my time.
If I think I can do better, I'm lying.

5 times. 3 times....
No more. Please. You'll be okay.
But am I really okay? Do you really think I can ignore the disappointment in their eyes?

*....I didn't think so.
Jonny Angel Jan 2014
It was by happenstance I read her,
she moved me with her verse,
her sweet demeanor flowed
her written word,
I felt the pain inside,
her search for self-realization.

She is a flowery summer treat,
I saw her pretty-eyes in space,
her infectious smile
dialed me in.

And whether or not
there’s ever any
L-word involved
is of no freaking consequence,
I am forever her mate,
that means a friend
on the same wavelength.
Jaanam Jaswani Feb 2015
She's wheat-skinned and coarse-haired;
In a fair and lovely world. This woman embodied
Perfection; without ever journeying on a quest to seek it.

All the other girls understood themselves,
Each and every bit of them. She simply
Forgot; to look in the mirror, to be aware of her singular quirks, to be daunted by the schools of swordfish.

In the tribes of North Africa, communities banged drums and danced to please the Gods.
"Allah, Allah!" they'd temporarily yell to foot-stampers who seemed to invoke the spirits,
Those who took breaths of transparent inspiration and truly,
And truly, lived in that jiffy.

The entirety of her life was an Allah moment,
For she never ceased to be lit from below, and lit;
From within. Her monochromatic soul shined a spectrum,
And she was perfect, because she didn't need to be.
bits taken from Elizabeth Gilbert's TED talk: "Your Elusive Creative Genius"
Pearson Bolt Dec 2016
buttressed by bisected nebulae
our galaxies coalesce.
soft-spoken Andromeda hurtling
towards a somber Milky Way.
a slow dance plays
to the crooning toons
of Brand New. am i experiencing Deja Entendu
or are the Devil and God
merely raging inside us?

Christmas lights, distant as parsecs,
twinkle every which way we look.
multicolor displays flash
in dizzying arrays, winking in and out,
drizzling like dripping icicles. sad songs
spill continuously from the stereo as we drive
through one neighborhood after the next,
aimless in our contentment.

it's half-past-2:00
in the morning and i'm singing Panic!
at the Disco with (and for) you. i write of sins
and hope this doesn't end in tragedy
as Trade Wind shifts and entreats us
to drift listless as asteroids
rocked to sleep in the arms
of an ambivalent cosmos.

we may all be made of star stuff,
but we both agree:
there's no god who could love this world.
so as we lift crude gestures
to an apathetic sky, we realize
the task falls to us. we must love,
for beauty persists
in spite of all the sorrow.

i am happy to spin perpetually,
elastic and ecstatic in your orbit.
for every now and then your beams of light
filter through my prism and provide
another connection along
our wavelength.
Existing on what's aware and listening
Quiet before speaking and always glistening
Hearing words not spoken when others run a lot
Seeing all that's going on when most are not
She operates on a thin wavelength of beauty
Hard to find for those who are too busy looking
hard to feel for those wanting to wrap her up for a booking
She's precious and sensitive beyond a thought
Beautiful and expanding and will always be sort
Surprises you when you think she couldn't know
Smarter than everyone but she'll never show
Withstanding enemies with her thorns
Staying beautiful and never forlorn
Spectacularly present with unseen pedals
So soft so sweet but of the strongest metal
Always precious, always special, always artistic,
always talented, always the insight, always so deep,
In the face of all that couldn't be wronger
what doesn't **** us makes us stronger
Respecting what's so precious like the morning dew
Congratulations on the glory of YOU
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2018
A name of yours
Caress the thought
With the magical vibes
Then the musing begins

A stolen moment
An enchanted realm
An iconic reflections
A pristine elegance

A trust in life
A genuine smile
A perpetual bliss
Nurtures the soul

A confession begins
To whom
It is concerned
Genre: Reflective Art
Theme: Everything can't be written. Some are felt. Open the senses.
―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―

~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.

I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.

II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~

II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Distant Ages,
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.

III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Virtue, it’s vesture,

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~

VI. Tempus et Spatium:

~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]


(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞

VII. Ultima Thule:

Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Salvera y Jiustizia
I plead.~”

~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,

(May you
The Virtues of the Lord)


(The [Your] Living Soul)


(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Celestial Morphology © is the multi-epistled poem which I sired during the Estival vicissitude. Twas an ineffable cadenza that exhales of the incorporeal essence of mine entity. I had been toiling in sweat, blood, and tears over a written project at the time; consequently, this is the thematic poem begotten.
     It transmutes the zeitgeist of my summer into the Golden Raiment of Polymathy. The oppressed coals of my woe erupted from the igneous core of my heart as these adamantine words. This starry soundscape is the astral crux of my work during 2018.
      I think that there was a vast expanse of my understanding of the world that had been repressed. It had almost been veiled from the heightened sight of my Over-Soul. This was in my sheltered, infantile longing to elude heartache. To keep the flesh- sundering maladies of the world outside my apartment walls: love, passion, iniquity, penitence, forgiveness, piety, cultural fission, intolerance, injustice, indignation, divinity, melody, mysticism, schism, mania, trepidation, faith, wisdom, darkness, and temporally transcendent pain.
          This was my transcribed anarchy against a Fascist Regime. A country exalting body that calls its denizens creationists whilst they slaughter every creation under the sun. The sociological edicts that dictate how art should be produced, the pace, that tell us not to speak of discrimination and mold us to turn a blind eye to the harsh realities of 21st-century postmodern society heavied the air. I just needed to vent and let every bit of internalized asperity or self-directed hatred out in a beautifying paradigm.
      I'm realizing more and more that life is tough and quite frankly, short. I'd rather write for an infinitude on one poem, for the sake of saving myself, rather than compromising my own integrity (and creative latitude). The writing was becoming a drag: less about quality, and more about quantity. Thus, after months of phantasmagorical drought, I bestow a glistening glade of sterling words.
I hope this poem reverberates upon thine soul waves. Please comment as I am open to any feedback; moreover, I beseech it of thee. My deepest gratitude comrades.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Redshift Mar 2015
labeled by the personality test i took for you
hoping you would understand the ticking in my mind
the blurred, erratic lines
that make me nauseous.

you don't even try.
you don't care for the beautiful wavelength that i bleed onto

i just want a boy who cares about the noble tangle
the poetic fight for my life
that i begin every time i awake
still alive
the delicate balance the tension in my neck

i just wanted you
to give
a ****
Christopher Lowe Feb 2015
To the ever so quite
Of ideas
Slipping into blissful
And the echoing  
Of this parasitic
And everything is
Just another wavelength
Stretching its existence
To the edge of outer space
Poetry Boulevard Feb 2018
White leaves rustle
in autumn
To a swinging beat,
marked with ink –

Staff lines,
and sharps
that fall

To the wave
of a maestro’s

But no words are needed.

A fervent look
From the drummer
Gives away the tempo,
Speed up!

A rehearsed nod
starts an improvised solo
in another mode.

We exist on the same
you and I.
charmaine Jun 2014
when I;m angry,
i throw everything
i hit myself
i cut myself,
i scatter about,
i slam on things.
but i never scream it ouT



i was angry when i wrote this.
i pounded on the keys at the end of this.
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Madison's defense of the establishment clause to the Virginia
Religion both existed and flourished, not only without the support of human laws, but in spite of every opposition from them, and not only during the period of miraculous aid but long after it had been left to its own evidence and the ordinary care of Providence.

                                          May I say
electromagnetic waves. Radiant energy.
Light travels in waves
                                      Waves of what?
Electromagnetic waves consist of electric and magnetic fields
oscillating at right angles to each other
and to the direction of motion of the wave.
                                                           ­             All waves can be described
in terms of amplitude, wavelength, frequency and speed.

Waves of what?
                            Think of a hand waving. The wave itself
is virtual, ideal. The hand and eyes are waves. The wave's
a quantum guess.
                           Religion and electromagnetic waves - visible, audible, ideal
causing real reactions in earth-time (real as it gets). Madison's
               care of Providence
                                               impossible to handle.

Needed is a medium: antenna, cathode ray, page,
          hairy, sweaty
with the capacity to say Providence electromagnetic visible light
element god.
                       Alone in your life and body. Say
the heavy word
weighty word
             charged word (ion god)
the particle physicist and political philosopher have it over the poet
who is sharing ignorance
                                           pretty much all he doesn't know.

Or who stays within a dimension she knows she knows, extrapolating
her hand in a child's hand or husband's hold or nest in a tree hole
limited government
                                  separation of powers
                                                          ­            daily low intensity warfare
light, radio and gamma waves
                                                     Waves of what?
Matter can be treated by both wave and particle theories (the duality of matter) since its convertible counterpart - light - has long been treated successfully by both theories.
convertible counterpart
                                         light matter light

Solutions to the equations are called wave functions, or orbitals.
Religion or the duty which we owe our Creator and the manner of discharging it can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence. It is proper to take alarm at the first experiment on our liberties. We hold this prudent jealousy to be the first duty of Citizens, and one of the noblest characteristics of the late Revolution. The free men of America did not wait till usurped power had strengthened itself by exercise and entangled the question in precedents. They saw all the consequences in the principle and they avoided the consequences by denying the principle. We revere this lesson too much to soon forget it.

Last night's movie She's No Angel on the Christian channel
begged many essential questions (and had bad music)
                                                          ­                                  why
the loving liberal successful couple should
keep a shotgun in the home (later used per Shakespeare)
                                                    ­                                           what
the community's (authority's) reaction to the violence
and precipitating dissembling might have been (per The Crucible)
                                                       ­                                             whether
the golden spiritual couple would subsequently dissemble lobby or
themselves and the loved one legally and lengthily (per Dostoyevsky)
                                                    ­                                                   where
unclean tragic outcomes end in Death's cleanliness
ravens eat the fur and guts of bad guesses off the roads (per A
      Designer of Systems)

but not I think missing
the deeper lesson

that she is neither her past
nor her wings

but a pure goodness
                                   bone stillness
                                                       ­   potential energy

a light wave
and a particle.
--Madison, James, "Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments"
--LeMay, Beall, Robblee & Brower, Chemistry: Connections to Our Changing World, Prentice Hall, 2000
Jagger Bowers Apr 2013
You're changing this cocoon heart
The butterflies are too big for my stomach
so they venture to the ends of my being
I’m growing wingtips for fingertips that flutter when you laugh
And in the moments I make your eyes smile, I fly
All the while, unraveling the most fragile strands of myself
Like string simply because
The only thing holding me is your hands

I am a kite
I ascend to the top of the universe with mirth, unafraid of falling,
And fall, I do
I fall over and over again every time your cheeks blush
And every time you bring me back down to Earth
You bring me in, and you hold me close
And what puts my mind at ease is
Our ribs are starting to fit together like puzzle pieces
Our hearts are fusing like science I can’t comprehend,
But if God was a card dealer, I’d understand, because
God dealt me the very,
Very best hands

Your hands
that shock mine every time I touch them
And when that happens we never fail to search
For the sparks in each other’s eyes
We peer into each other’s souls
Finding atoms that fizz like fireworks
I am finding God in your electricity
We hold still for the Lord
But absolutely nothing about this is static

I am the ocean
There is more life swimming inside of me than anyone’s ever seen
And somehow you are still more astonishing
You are the moon
From dust, God made you to hold me
You push and pull me
Like tides, gently rocking me to sleep
We are standing still
But love is not something we can stop if we squeeze

Like trying to catch rivers in our bare hands
We’re finding it more enchanting to catch each other’s raindrops on our tongues
Because we are water cycles, and some days
We are drenched in this love
Finding it ironic how our torrential downpours only lift us up
So, we hold hands
Run through the rain
And know that no matter how hard we squeeze
It will never stop

I want to go dancing
I want my feet to sing louder than my voice
I want them to sing in tune with the colors your lips make when you sing
Because I’m so close to colorblind that the rest of my senses are heightened
And nothing tastes sweeter than the
Rainbows you whisper on my eardrums

But I want to feel softer than this
I want to touch subtler than two magnets never ever can
But still have the same fervor
I want our ribs to feel less like rickety fences
And more like toy xylophones
Or the color spectrum

So one day we’ll have mapped out each other’s blues
And we can truly say, we’re on the same wavelength
So that one day,
Our hearts will beat lullabies on our skeletons,
Reminding us even the hard things in life can be beautiful
If we let it

I know that fuzzy feels cozy
And change can be crippling
But as I dream stars through the silk sheets
I hold your hand
And pray you won't supernova in the morning
Cimmerian Chaos, incediary
The Requiem of the Revenant:

Tis I,
The Breathing Song
Conjuring a vestige,
Ensorcelled by what I'd been envisaging.

Maimed by Tempus, The Temporal Arbiter
Words reverberating on the wavelength of my soul
Left me vibrating desolate and wayworn.
Utterances deluging me in the Dominion of Doubt
Until I reached a crossroads
For perilous was the pilgrimage I peregrinated.

The Penultimate Tribulation has begun
And though angst is festering in my flesh,
The Sacred Lotus of Dreams has not wilted,
Shalt it ever upon the Lake of the Holy Oracle;
Elysium of the Soul is awaiting those who are stalwart
In the Visage of the Shadows.*


By Sanders M. Foulke III
Two month old free verse poem regarding my own martyrdom and tribulations in the flesh. My iniquities can bring about lightness and sanctity if I so speak it into my life. Surrendering over all suffering, woe, and lamentation over to the Ethereal leads to transcendence of blight and ascendence to Elysium of the Soul. Be encouraged when you suffer, for peril means not ending but genesis. Genesis of wisdom, love, power, justice, endurance, meekness, humility, loyalty, faith, hope, joy, and every other virtue that is His. Any feedback is most appreciated. Enjoy! God bless!
Valerie Weisbeck Mar 2014
i am so terrified of heights that i cry,
but if i were to kiss you,
i would do it at the top of a ferris wheel in august
and i would not stop
until my feet were on solid ground
and until the mountains got jealous
because the sunrise never kissed them that well.

one time, at the top of a roller coaster,
my eyes blacked out and my knuckles-
well, they were white;
i gripped onto that handle as tightly as
your mere existence seized my mind,
and i think that the sand on the beaches
were jealous because the sea has never clutched them so closely.

the message that i'm trying to convey is that
with enough time, i overcome my fears.
one day, i'll hold your hand
without you taking mine first,
because i know you'll revel in it.
and i know that the deserts will be jealous
because the tantalizing rain is never so dauntless.

confidence is key. // for t.s.m.
Boi Jul 2018
I like stars,
they're pretty, truly
cruelly, in irony
ebony of the night
they undull

I like mornings,
their colors like
spikes of paint,
faint but majestic
elastic light waves
of four hundred fifty
six hundred twenty
plenty, of wavelength

I like the cold,
rolled into covers
lovers entwined
blind to a frail,
stale reality of
everything, basically

I like your reading
preceding these lines
vines and strings
of things plane,
mundane that I
try to hold onto
since I'm a bit loose

...Thank you dearly
All our writings are drafts. If you think something can be told in a better way, or even find a mistake, it would be more than appreciated if you share that with us.
Nnaemeka Mokeme Aug 2018
Did anyone ever thought
about this fraternal oneness,
why we are all in this universe
and so profoundly related.
Did you know that beneath
the differences of different
people lies only one man nature.
One world and one people.
Different beliefs but one source.
Varied culture and tradition
but one humanness.
Drinking same fountain of water
from above and below the earth.
All breathing same air,
what one breathes out,
another takes in.
We blend and merge together,
resonating in synergy to bring
desired octaves in response
to a beautiful and blissful sequence,
with different forms and
different wavelength Interwoven
holistically in wholeness.
As one sleeps the other awakes,
in different geographic areas,
sharing the same sun and moon,
as the stars shine daily bears witness,
though it is only seen in part in accord
with whoever is in the light or dark,
it's brightness is shown in the dark
only when the moon shines,
and hidden in the brightness of the sun,
as one is in the light with the sun,
the other is in dark with the moon.
We still shines as the stars in the
sky even though we don't know it.
Don't mess up what is so important
in your life just because you are
a little unsure of who you are.
Be truly your neighbors keeper,
for we are all related.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Music is my Deity
and so benevolent is it!

A mystical Tapestry
woven upon Silence and across Time,
what about that is not Divine?

Music doesn't divide, it unites.
It attracts expressive minds, creative minds, empathic minds, logical minds.
It creates an abstract temporal psychosocial middle-ground;

You don't have to be a virtuoso
to drum along or dance or vocalize.
You don't have to be a virtuoso
for practice to reap it's rewards.

We speak with Music:

Language is a Musical thing;
it employs Rhythm and Pitch and works through Time.
Music is a Linguistic thing;
it communicates things that otherwise cannot be said
while also having room for Language itself.

Music is no singular aspect;
Music is not defined by medium,
nor is it defined by orchestration.

Music is wholly Abstract,
relating only back to itself.
Music is defined by context;
Music is a matter of perspective.

Footsteps are music, in 2/4 time.
Heartbeats are music, in 3/4 time; this defines "swing" feel.
A Clock is music, in 1/1 time at 60 beats per minute.
A year is music, in 365.25/1 time at 1 beat per day.

The duration of the Moon's orbital period and Day are a Unison; 1:1.
The four Galilean moons of Jupiter orbit with the resonance of Octaves; 2:1 ratios of wavelength.
The ratio of the lengths of Mercury's Year to it's Day is nearly a Perfect Fifth; 3:2.

Music is implicit.
Music is mystical.

Music is a Metaphor manifest,
for the nature of the Universe;
even the very word "Universe"
means "The One Song".

Music is truly intrinsic;
I am a Shaman of Music.
It is an Honor.
Mike Essig Sep 2015
She tilted
her red head,
her green eyes
smiled as
her mouth said
Uh, huh...
and you slowly
undid every
on her dress.

Charlie Chirico Oct 2013
"It's good, but maybe you should write shorter," I was told.
Granted this was told to me by a man that believes the word artistic
to be closely related to the word autistic, but I can only assume that riding any
unfamiliar wavelength is terribly confusing, if not immeasurably difficult.

Knowing that you can confide in yourself, whether or not I'm misinterpreting
individual delegation for conscience, I believe altruism to be fundamental to
a person before growth can occur. Unless of course you're writing short poems.
And if you're curious enough to implement apathy, sarcasm is a fine starting point.

They say that if you want to master something you need to perform daily.
Accompany this with the old adage, "Love what you do," and you can imagine the potential.
Mastering an activity with love is transcendent, calm although sometimes piquant.
Passion and pleasure aren't identical, but imagine the potential.

I don't bleed ink.
It has to be an attempt at benevolence, to say that.
Extreme literary pretensions you must have to bleed out.
Writing should have a pulse. It. Should. Make. Each. Word. Count.

Yet, when this man told me that my words are good, but I should keep it shorter,
knowing not if I could or would, I became curious as to why he worried more about
length and not the content and story as a whole. Then I had to rationalize this to myself, and thought: It would be easier to convey words with images, like a film or animation.

But I don't bleed ink,
and I guess I don't bleed popcorn.
I seek you between the pixels
and the pixilated.
Electrons still smell of where you past.
Photons rearranged, your likeness,
flutters then fades again
a Wrong wavelength. If you were here You'd see,
my hand in the air,
a foot on the couch
antenna awkwardly stuffed
in a sleeve extending to the gods.
I Ballance my loginhand technology.
Laughter iHear and twist my head
this way 2nd that... I'm getting close..I turn my body
...oh! " Hello honey, your not online?"
SassyJ Dec 2015
Body trembling wrestling, rumbling base and tenors

Stretched on the foamed life, laid deep as the night dip

A shot, then pint after pint intoxicated with an ancient elixir

Staggering and stumbling as the elixir intoxicates my veins

The Rumblings of the exposed evaluations...........**** Intoxicated...

The whisperer of the dawn, nocturnal as a bat

Not a brat but a matted mate rolling me for life

Tantalized and draw as puppy master, a taster

No tazzers dazzling just a cord cordially joint to pull

An exposed explosion of my ecstasy, its my fantasy

Bilocation relocations trilogies of fantastic voyage

Are you changing beats or just the undertones?

Is it consensual, conceptualization or just sensual?

Vibrations of the humanity wavelength, quests of relational kinship

Bred as one but we bleed then we breed an evolved resolution

Is it a stance or a planted planned animal farm we are living in ?

Our seclusion constitutions,yet past concludes traces of same DNA

Pulling deep from my core like an elastic tug of war amour

This lasting lust not a rusty knighted warrior in trust

All invisible still untouchable, its the twirl and swirl of a dance

A testable passion, like a veggie shake transfused with passion fruit

Exotic exorcisms ****** seams, non-egotism erectile functionalism

Faded on the gassed up balloon and still flying up till I die

A stroke on my neck is essential but the essence is a presence

Just get a vulture not a concord jet, make it natural and so cultural

Transmute the love, make them high like an awe silhouette on a plinth

Take me up on heavens, jetted heights those not validated by NASA

Nassholes, on toes now blinded masses, take my wing to heaven heights

Pressured in a barometer its my pleasure, check the altitude not the attitude

The computations of the brain plays compositions compute, encode

Caress my wing, I'll shield your width, its a bird not to fry but fly

Conclusive Interlude**
Geared with electric flashes around my mind eyes, can you see me?

Can you feel me? Emitting the scents of the long ancient past

Anticipate and see the love I hold for you, can you feel me, all around you

How is it you can't even read the interconnected entwined wavelength

Pace faster, pant harder, paint the essence, the resemblance of acceptance

The redemption of the substance, the elixil or an ether evaporation
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2018
Whenever we perceive
Good vibrations
Respect roots it’s way

We start to feel the vibrations
Not the name or the color
Not they are, whatever

The same vibration
May change the wavelength
To preserve the earlier respect
It is better
To keep a distance

Let the respect be
The form of energy
We worship

Genre: Abstract
Theme: Conservation of energy
Deepak shodhan May 2015
Do you know who is
a real hero?
The one who wins after
a huge failure is a
true hero
Do you know who is a
real hero?
The one who treats
success and failure on
the same wavelength
is a true hero
Do you know who is
a real hero?
The one who learns from
his failures is a true hero
Do you know who is
a real hero?
The one who stands steady
when everyone trys to
let him down is a true hero
A true hero has a strong,
sensible mind
A true hero never gives up
at the sight of defeat!
Nicole Bataclan Jun 2013
You say one thing
But mean another
I feign a nod
Because I know
What you aspire

You keep by the rules
I use all the right tools
We play it carefully
Though we already
Share this affinity

We do not have
To pretend
By now
We are on the same

We say one thing
But we mean another
Such a farce
Because we both know
We are untruthful

The beauty of
This deceit
Is that we are
Of the truth
Behind it

It is a lie
That we need not
The truth about
You and I
Being coy is that
You are crazy
About me
And the other way

We say one thing
But our eyes intend

And the heavenly feeling

We are both liars;
The two of us
Telling the same fib
To one another
Then quite frankly,
At the core of the
Were we not telling
The truth
All along?
Jeff Gaines Oct 2018
I've this new friend, she's so complete.
Solid as a rock, from her head to her feet.
We met online, sharing poems, lives and paths.
We talked about everything and always have a laugh.

She's shared her life … from before and in the now.
She's a busy gal with a family and a really great man.
She works a job, writes her poems
and is forever making plans.

We've shared some deep thoughts …
and found many things in common.
But my favorite thing about new my friend …
is that she's as stubborn as a Brahman!

That's a type of Bull,
for those of you who don't know …
just try and steer her off of her path …
and those horn's she'll surely show.

Feisty, fierce … opinionated too …
To claim that she is headstrong … would not be untrue.

She's a really great Mom, with a brood to be proud of, no jest.
They are accomplished and well rounded, always doing their best.

I'm so happy that I've met this pal,
even chatted with her and hubby on the phone.
I'm sure that when we finally meet in person,
our kinship will be wholly grown.

That will be great,
a new closeness to live and to be.
But this will bring yet another task …
a task just for me.

For this is only part one of my poem …
Part two to be written when …
I finally see and hug my new friend(s) …
and our friendship starts yet again!
Again, so sorry I haven't been here. I have been so busy with the Tree Farm all Summer and just when I thought it was coming to an end, we had Hurricane Micheal blow through here and pretty much destroy our yard and some of the property.

  Now, it will take me all winter to drop the leaning trees and cut up them and the completely fallen ones and drag them to the burn pile. I also have over 400 linear feet of fence to replace.


  But I'm not asking for a pity party. I just had the first of my two stent operations and I am hoping that by doing all this work, it will bring me back to healthy enough to go back out on the road and off of Disability!

One can only hope.

  My trip out west will have to wait until Spring. I guess it was supposed to happen this way.

  This poem is about someone that I met here at HP and become really good friends with over the phone and texting. I can't wait to meet her and her family.
Aharon El Oct 2015
We're all connected
one way or another

But certain people give off a sort of glow
A wavelength

A Vibe

A vibe that either brings us together
                                                        ­                         or drives us apart

Your vibe grows radiant when you speak from your heart
It gives off that Afro-Cuban kind of funk

That smooth bass line that could either put a man to sleep
Or keep him up all night long
I prefer the latter
Ken Pepiton Mar 3
Mean music, blues, is what they called

the noises,
morphing to music, in mir
act all-outs miraclue-lesss time of magi Ai ai ai
ical memes, mere memories of
the sound,
the music is in the pattern,

commas make no noise, breathe,
see, slow and steady, wins the race, been
done that, is a game sons of god once played,
perhaps, they were grandsons, in the summer of 1969.

Been there done that went way back,
that night by Lake Mohave,
when I built the carbon
oxidizing pyramid,
that burned the lesson this deep,

so now, some fifty years after
everwhen that was, when I was there
and you were not. That
is all you know,
you were not there. But here you are.
While listening to Stephen King on his 2014 Revival tour.en
Nnaemeka Mokeme Jul 2018
Wonders of the world
is too insignificant to
what you will experience
in your life for opening
your heart to receive the
fairest impressions of God.
You are the best gift life can
ever give to the universe.
Infused in you are the
unimaginable seed of greatness.
You are for signs and wonders.
Created and endowed with
enormous and immense abilities
to subdued and have dominion
over all things created.
Your words and thoughts can change
situations and make things manifests
from something for nothing cannot
give rise to something.
Thoughts are definitely something,
and your words are powerfully alive,
you only need to properly project it
into being to give it form and bring
it into your reality.
All things resonates to you,
whether positively or negatively,
depending on the platform you stand.
Everything responds to the octaves
of your vibration within the wavelength
of the rhythm of the pendulum swinging
circumspectively overly around you.
You can do anything you want to do
if you really want to do it.
But you have to learn how to do it differently,
because you are definitely differently configured.
You are an absolute dot stretched into being,
vitalised by the power beyond the ordinary
and full of grace of the divine light.
You are the light of the world.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
I'm as blue as your eyes.

Your eyes are as blue as the sky,
But the sky isn’t nearly as beautiful.

Your eyes are as blue as the sea,
But the sea isn’t nearly as deep.

Your eyes are as blue as a sapphire,
But a sapphire isn’t nearly as precious.

Your eyes are as blue as a robin’s egg,
But an egg isn’t nearly as pure.

Your eyes are as blue as the Blue Morpho,
But that butterfly isn’t nearly as rare.

Your eyes are as blue as a police box,
But a police box doesn’t feel nearly as safe.

Your eyes are as blue as light with a wavelength of 465 nm,
But that light isn’t nearly as bright.

Your eyes are as blue as a horseshoe crab’s blood,
But that blood isn’t nearly as life-giving.

I'm as blue as your eyes.
This a very quirky poem about unrequited love. It was inspired an individual in particular, though there is a bit of exaggeration. Take for example, the fact that his eyes are more of a steel blue than the shade of blue described in the poem.
You drip into my thoughts like a slip of the tongue and blushing of parted lips; ravenous.

Your indulgence of my masochistic inquires is shamelessly scandalous,  

Akin to a laceration of lace and a bursting of buttons, unraveling the threads of my modesty.

The consequences stripping me of my delicacy exposing the betrayal of my anatomy.

Brutality and savagery quicken my submission and the remnants of my restraint will succumb; a hunger.

Dive into the warmth of my energy, the color of my heart, the wavelength of my soul; exploit.

Your devilish grin growing, dilated pupils following my form taking sadistic pleasure in my resistance to a futile fight.

Wide eyes watch your teeth sink into the purity of my flesh, porcelain complexion now stained with crimson red; capitulation to a carnal sentiment; surrender.

— The End —