"yaw" poems
A Jersey girl came along
and I started to think about angles of yaw
needed to take flight,
how the force of a kick skirts
the delicate line between winning and losing.
I’ve seen it all before, but not like this. Besides, seeing
has nothing to do with believing.
Corneas can't capture the vibrations of molecules or excitations
of electrons. Champions defy biology,
overcome gravity and I believe what goes up
does not always come down.
I want to know the point where focus takes control
of epinephrine, who’s cascade is initiated by the roar of a crowd,
but negatively regulated by doubt,
when to take a long shot or build up slowly.
I want to live the difference between accuracy and precision,
taste the dirt, become painted with bruises and scorch my heart.
A flag is heaviest when you carry it,
lightest when it’s raised,
worn as a cape and allowed to wave in the wind.
Countries aren't build, they're created created
denying muscles oxygen but allowing them to taste gold.
It's ability to conduct electricity astounds me.
It’s not about alchemy
but transforming sweat into tears,
fixing nitrogen, reducing triglycerides.
Not all reactions need light, some create it.
It’s only over when there’s not enough energy for activation.
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
My heart yearns for an adventure
For a strange and rare venture
Oblivious of the tons of dangers
For in adventures I ain’t a stranger
For I would relieve childhood years
That I spent with my little peers.
An adventure in distant lands
Where the children play with wet sands.
And dolphins jump out of water
When the noon sun makes the ocean hotter.
Where the fisherman yaw his boat
To capture all the salmon afloat.
An adventure by the oasis in the Sahara desert
Where Tuaregs sit by the cactus to eat dessert.
And watch as scorpions prey on lizards
To feast on their gizzards.
I want day sun to warm my smooth skin
And the night cold to shiver my crude chin.
An adventure cuddling cold snow on my hand
Where the icy pillars in their majesty stand.
And make a cave of snow
Strong to stand when wind blow.
Then I will scare the polar bear
That my cave like a paper wants to tear.
An adventure on the corn field
When in summer the flowers yield
When the butterflies pollinates the corns
And the farmer weeds out the thorns
I want to watch the corn spring to life
When the early rain is rife
An adventure across the sky in a plane
And watch as daylight slowly wane.
I want to leave a route on the sky
That in the future I would still ply.
Then immortalize my name in the cloud
That dark clouds in their anger cannot shroud.
An adventure deep in the amazon woods
When the purple squirrel burrow for food.
Where the monkey sway their tails
And red roses litter narrow trails.
I want to watch the ants builds their mounds
As the ripe mangoes fall on the ground.
An adventure that will lead to places
Leaving on all its paths my traces.
Permanents prints that will last
Even when my life like history is past.
And my adventure would be told as a tale
That like time will not stale.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
These words are a sock, soft and warm from the dryer
butterknife
palpable
lullabye
maroon
These words are bits of glass, attacking my ears:
Yaw
Ketch
Blurt
Epizeuxis
Jactation and
Mauve
These words are brass-knuckled fists to the face
Mogadishu
Rwanda
Desert One
My Lai
And
Nine One One
These words are a sneaky cat, slithering here and there
Mystery
Secretive
Lurking
Sly
Shadowy
These words are unknown to everyone but me. Private words for private thoughts.
Uiyak
Jackassdom
Nothingofanyvalue
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
Lushly lustful exotically ******
Vibrant virile fertile vicissitude
Puissant terminus loquacity photic
Pique piquant poignant pulchritude
Lecherous visceral longevous cohort
Wanton licentious erogenous frolic
Lurid lascivious ****** cavort
***** lewd apomixes anabolic
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
they said they did it for efficiency's sake.
birthed machine after machine,
just to increase the rate
per
time.
no god-given talent or skill,
can defeat this adaptive assembly line.
no man- P
no fire- O
no brain- W
no super- E
no will- R
it's flawless at first glance, and maybe even second.
simply perfect to the naked eye; even the telescoped, i reckon.
but under a microscope, it becomes simple to see,
this single-purposed way of life isn't human; how can it be?
just like control + C, control + V,
i believe they've synchronized simplicity.
believe they've synchronized simplicity.
they've synchronized simplicity.
synchronized simplicity.
simplicity.
.
.yticilpmis
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb i
,V + lortnoc ,C + lortnoc ekil tsuj
?eb ti nac woh ;namuh t’nsi efil fo yaw desoprup-elgnis siht
,ees ot elpmis semoceb ti .epocsorcim a rednu tub
.nokcer i ,depocselet eht neve ;eye dekan eht ot tcefrep ylpmis
.dnoces neve ebyam dna ,ecnalg tsrif ta sselwalf s’ti
R -lliw on
E -repus on
W -niarb on
O -erif on
P -nam on
.enil ylbmessa evitpada siht taefed nac
,lliks ro tnelat nevig-dog on
.emit
rep
etar eht esaercni ot tsuj
,enihcam retfa enihcam dehtrib
.ekas s’ycneiciffe rof ti did yeht dias yeht
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 10:15 PM UTC
sdrawkcab lla si ti
semitemos
sgniht ta kool ot yap t’nseod
eb dluohs yeht yaw eht
ytilibats pu evig ot nrael
ytiugibma fo ssenteews eht ecarbme
ekil-gurd si rewop sti
sevird ti sa sessessop ti
shpmuirt taht ssendam a
tniop noitanimluc eht ta
ytivitaerc fo ecand eht
egru na ;regnuh a si ti
tcepser a sdnammoc taht
lausunu eht ,euqinu eht rof
!ylpmoc ohw esoht staiwa dlrow wen elohw a
-em evig
noitanimreted emos noissap emos
!ylf dna sgniw eht hcterts ot ssengnilliw emos
- em ekam
seil dna sevil taht sselraef a
ytirucesni nwo sti yb detrofmoc
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
27.08.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 2:27 AM UTC
Antagonism
burgeons back bad blood.
Compatriots, courtesy can cool contentions:
doubly, disrespect demands decisive
execution. Early efforts evolved
fatuously, force facilitated farcical fighting.
Gambling gents gleefully gored
hedonistic harlots. Harassing
ignorantly, igniting
jealously,
killings
listlessly- liars lament
momentarily. Meanwhile, monetary
nuances
of opulence obscure
prime problems.
Quarries quake
running red. Remembering
solitarily- stoic steeds stand silent, sending
thoughts,
unbidden, unbeknownst.
Violence:
we were
xanthic,
yellow years yaw…
Zymotic.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
I watched a miracle appear
Almost
Ten years ago
and Deja Vu
now its all You.
From a friend,
for a Friend,
and Not a foe...
Behold,
a story of victory unfolds!
uncanny though you may think
that the stink of hell and BS
be over powered and now somewhat plastered
on a wall for the evil eye to dance the
opposite YAW
im sorry did i pull a moment of Leaves?
a published nightmare, once re-visited
with re-occurring themes yet all linked
on a funny little string of life.
now onto these unstable legs,
garbled communication,
just learning
to rely on himself,
transportation
wanting out the cage
and asleep without worry for his age.
but hes adorable
and his actions chuck full of thought
but this all has the same meaning
of moving forward
feeling
a breeze of excitement
an air of delight
when suddenly summer
becomes winter
these logs i ... chuck ...
to a fire to warm the inquires with--
**** these splinters.
to look around the circle of those
i now start in thought
to hold in a varied definition of "close"
i'll keep by the shadow and watch
and if its a connect four
bingo, plinko, and even/or tic-tac-toe
its that feeling of victory
we all love to know.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 1:02 AM UTC
sa
pagta-
tapos
ng aking
panimula,,,
hinde ko talaga
alam kung
kayo'y magtitiwala,,,
dahil hinde pa
ito ang wakas
ng unang YUGTO.
Sa panahong,,,,minsan
kailangan nating MAGKALAYO
mga puso't isipan ay
pilit-muling IPAGTATAGPO
kung saan at kailan,,,,
siya nawa,,,,TADHANA ANG BAHALA!!!
" Ikaw Sila Tayo Ang Mga Bantayog Ayaw Yumabang "
mga pagkataong may pusong busilak
nagbibigay sa kapwa ng may galak
BATID NI BATHALA
regalo ang gantimpala
friends......less than
5 DAYS b-4 X'mas
supil ~~~ twirl
five-letter word
© copyright 2015 - All Rights Reserved
[8 of 12 marked voices of a dozen clusters of letters]
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
Slip into a syncopated
Yaw that staggers some,
Never touches others.
Come back home if you don't have the chops, or
Open up to ranges
Pleasant...
Awkward...
Totter some and Tatter some.
Insiders,
Outsiders
Nestle or Negate whenever Music syncopates.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
Lessons : ( 1. ) Attraction.
( 2. ) Attention.
1.
Lessons of attraction
Teach that often
Little or none
May serve (one)
Sufficiently well
Deftly in fact
If well played to
Another party (one)
So similarly unclined.
2.
Attention (Ed) :
Every tilt and curve ............ (onetwo)
Every pitch and yaw ............. (onetwo)
Every flat and valley (ed) ... (onetwo)
Whorl is well deserving of .... (onetwo)
Entention (And) :
3.
Faith(ungh)divided(one-two, one-two-three)
(twoby twoby twoby)
to the hilt.
All Rights Reserved
James R. Morse, NYC 2012.
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 1:44 PM UTC
There are rules and protocol,
movements and routine
not quite episodic and semantic--
non-declared transition and rituals,
rounded manners distinct
from infinite loop
and routed inner biplane
hemmed to a sight line,
spiraling death down.
Earth or Spitfire flare dare?
Grounded embrace forever comes.
I move, postponing
and extending.
The declared break is now.
Airflow ripples,
and eyes tear.
Straining shear forces
reducing reasoned response
to instinctual joysticks.
Old, new, modified,
learned sticky
quirks of friends,
Lost love lingering,
switching *****
adjusting yaw, pushing yoke,
subtle procedural affectations
stolen, infused in
to fly, bank, and escape.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
i.
A sapphire raceme, Symbolic dimples,
Radiciform, Ak-Shabreeze, consecrated;
Impeccable temple's.
ii.
None remembrance, of bygone vice,
Resumption of the new; perpetual
Life. Ramate by ourn rib's, sedated
By the paradisiacal.
iii.
Levitating toes, aloft the colored covenant,
O'er the bended bow, of God's plan's that
Art meant. We yaw the pleasant valley's,
We strum the lyre's of ahava; taking
Slowly to ourn peach rim's, desired
Coconut and guava.
iv.
Yealing's of another time, artist's of the
third peculiar mind, by the creator's
Design; finding another, amid the
Pearlescent hue.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( ahava) dedication
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
The Sun, at dusk, was ruddy red,
as it was swallowed by the sea.
A promise of fair weather
and a gentle rolling sea.
Come morning we'll be outward bound
as the winds possess the sails.
Then, out beyond the harbor,
under way and under sail
my first mate and I will revel
in the fresh and salty air.
Making way along the shore
with a gentle pitch and yaw
Was that a babe in a bikini
or a mermaid I just saw?
We tack around a floating buoy
and towards the deep we bear.
On the far horizon, bright colored sails
belong to friends of ours.
This is freedom best defined
on a sea as smooth as glass.
Free to choose and set your course
as freely hours pass.
The sun grows lower in the sky
its time we must return
to our mundane working life
for to play we first must earn.
Reluctantly we tack about
and set our course for shore.
its time to find safe harbor
for our boat the "Pinafore".
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 11:37 AM UTC
Hanging Obamas?
Beheaded Trumps?
Time for the ghouls
To start taking their lumps.
Stand down the MEDIA,
Hillary, go home,
Rush, stop your spouting,
Warren, go roam.
Our parents have told us
America has no fears
In peaceful revolutions
Every four years.
But this time it's different,
The country's on fire,
On hate we're hell bent
Messing our nests in our ire.
Meanwhile the World looks
At us with awe
To see a great nation
Stagger and yaw.
It's time for the people
Of a nation this great
To pick up the pieces
To stop all the hate,
To rally their causes,
To seek peaceful means
Of political changes
Based on old laws
That preserve the nation
Despite human flaws.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 10:15 AM UTC
To wish, to wish,
To dream a dream,
To writhe in nightmares of the obscene,
To ask, to know, to whisper, to scream,
The Waters of Regret, with tears, it teems.
The Night has vanquished the Softening Light,
The mind and heart, as one, in flight,
They try to spread their wings but unfold
Blackened remains of dreams so bold.
Skeletal and frail, they represent
The nothingness, the loss and lament,
They creak as they move in their fragility,
They yearn to wander eternally,
It happens that I do, indeed, readily
disagree fullheartedly,
With Love and its "virility".
Happiness is a virtue, a privilege,
Not a tome, a text, or pledge,
It holds steady in the worst of winds,
A Northern ship in the tides and spins,
The pitch and yaw of each barrage,
Makes one wish for camouflage,
From life, from loss, from all heartache,
All who I know regret me, their mistake.
Be at peace, I'm at peace,
It's the rest I need,
I try and remember when you were happy
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Met you not long ago
Didn’t think much about you just family u know
But the more u spoke the more you flowed and the more
I saw the more u let me know.
Don’t ever judge a book by its cover cuz u mad dusty
But under the wear and tear of age lies a man who has
Acquired wisdom beyond his years. Tears have been shed
Blood has been bled but you still live on, strong
Not letting anyone get u down. Let not a frown linger
On yaw face u may not know but through your grace you
Have thought me how to be what I am now to that
I say thank you and yea by the way happy belated lol.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Please don't
Broken bits don't get to go home,
Shatterd skulls no longer yaw
Skin cut and flayed does not fall.
Mearly drips,
The essence of my life flows.
I am in less control of this.
Then a river controls its bends
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
One is alive the other is dead
First one's the lie,
the other was not heard,
don't go to F State,
don't let your kids out at night
unless they can outrun a bullet.
you know
you are
in a bad
way when
that happens.
So a jury of his, fears
the truth, because
a lie was told,
an investigation botched,
what else could six people do,
you might want to rethink that law
or orange state might pitch and yaw,
to get through
this, imbalanced scales, lifted high
while peeking from behind the fold
with one eye,
but have her ears gone deaf,
then every voice rise to speak,
because one voice was not heard.
cold-heart
Ice Just In
twisted inside out and backwards,
you might figure it out.
No, no, no, no, no, no
social justice
can fix
Ice Just In,
I don't want to do this
and stay polite,
wrong is wrong,
who stood for the others' rights?
Fortune is already there,
fame and a book tour,
no time to spare, oh
don't look for blessings
ya'll were messing
with one of God's innocents.
don't you just hate it when one
person can make a whole state
look bad? And don't call him a patriot.
From a place that is an aggregate,
how can this happen?
This just so complicated,
really the systems are implicated,
so many walk away brushing
the dust off their clothes, like
here was a waste of time.
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
Xenophobes of the Inferno fear the inevitable presence of these
Xoana, false representations of humanity.
Xanthic is their fear, for inside the malebolges themselves
Xanadu is sought for those of the fallen soldiery.
Yet funerary proceedings dictate descent for these souls, and the coffins
Yaw slightly in the wind, disturbed by the
Yanks of the ****** rabble who bear their weight.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC
Ilang beses bang dapat masaktan upang matauhan?
Ilang beses bang dapat masaktan upang ikay matutong sumuko sa laban?
Alam ko na ika’y sobra nang nasasaktan
pero bakit di mo parin siya magawang iwan?
Di ka naman bulag sa katotohanan
Pero bakit kaba nagtatanga-tangahan
Niloloko ka na nga nang harap harapan
Ikaw pari'y nabubulagbulagan
Hindi ka pa ba nagsasawang paulit-ulit msakatan?
Na palagi nalang ikaw ang luhaan?
Alam **** sa inyong dalawa ikaw lang ang lumalaban
Ngunit bakit baa yaw na ayaw mo siyang bitawan?
Gaano ba ka hirap sayo ang pag bitaw?
Sobrang hirap ba kaya di mo magawa?
Nasasaktan ka na nga
Durog na durog na nga ang puso mo't kaluluwa
Ngunit ang pagbitaw ay di mo parin magawa
Paulit ulit **** sinasabi “hayaan mo na”
Mahal na mahal ko siya kaya hindi ako susuko sa kanya”
Mahal na mahal mo siya kaya ka ba nagpapakatanga?
Kaya ka ba nagpapaka gaga?
Kaya **** isakripisyo lahat para sa kanya
Pinaglaban mo siya
Pero ikaw ni minsan di niya nagawang ipaglaban ka
Kaya tama na pwede ba?
Wag ka ng magpakatanga pa
Di ka sundalo na Lalaban kahit nasasaktan na’t sugatan
Hindi ka naman laruan pero bakit mo hinayaan na ikay kanyang paglaruan?
Wag mo nang hawakan kung sobra ka nang nasasaktan
Matutong bumitaw kung ikay sobra nang nahihirapan
Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 9:07 AM UTC
a late swimmer, touching
one side, then the other.
night window, this wine.
a walker, beggared
to the wend of a wheel
loosed from the lean of its car.
a bad man jawing
a gradient slur
of hand puppets
on another's dark drive.
a second swimmer
I hadn't seen, touching
the first. same stone
on the pool's bottom-
unmoved, unmoved
by the yaw of the moon.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 3:37 PM UTC
We sit in the still
and through tiny buffeted windows
watch the stubborn shore arrest the fierce sea.
An old clock tocks as slow as winters
as we recall the beach of crowded summers
The cold wind whispers along the scurrying dunes
to throw the sand in abstract arcs
against the ice blue sky
In large coats, billowed scarves
and stout boots
we trudge against the bickering wind
blustering in its niggling argument
far into the sea.
I never thought our steps
could be this close
as we huddle and cower
against the wind
and in a tiny distance
the gale rips up our prints
as if no foot had ever trod.
Yet behind our watering eyes
We know that once two footsteps touched
Our shoes kissed
in the wild wet and wintry night
There will be warmth
in the accordion blessed bar
with pipe smoke leering to the rafters
and yellow light from candled glasses
casting tall shadows
of the shawled women
waiting for the long lost sailors’ return.
Shall I be a sailor then
to board the narrow boat of your body
in all the crash and yaw
the swell and deep
the thunder and breech
the pounding and clamour
until in the safe soundings
in the harbours of morning
we drift like flotsam
on the shoreline of sheets.
And driving home on a damp Sunday
will we marvel at the twisting rain
and how the tiny ship of our footsteps
survives the howling gales
and the all wild wide oceans of our watery ways
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
The hourglass spills days while penning insides and outcries
leaking content soaking pages; infecting woven fibril.
Using sharp fragments of semi-coherent tangents I scrape away
the leftovers:
Scraps of unfit metaphors fed to mounds of misshapen sentiment
Rusted similes left strewn on margins like impotent flotsam
Sampled words that don't quite capture the yaw, pitch,
angle, vibe, or taste I'm gunning for.
All tossed - Useless on paper, but useful as a dense foundation
of nonsense to bolster my intent.
The scribbled-out waste; the deep black marks between the final
cut are the raw outpouring I can't let you see.
The mess is too mottled for exhibition
Too fragile and too honest to absorb the stones.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC