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"zeros" poems
Tomorrows Exam is Mathematics loaded my head with unknown tricks Doodling with numbers Yes, teacher calls us dumbers Too much problems, yet very lil, solutions The long mountains of graphs The Greek symbols alpha, beta omega equations and formulas Find height, depth use trigonometry My answer a picture of a tree infinite zeros in red Sets, Relations, Geometry, variables and algebra and Lines, Its like stepping into a field of mines All time me wondering why reciprocal of zero undefined? much of the time In exam, I stay undefined!
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
Tomorrows Exam is Mathematics
There are 10 kinds of people in this world, and binary accounts for them all. They're happy and sad. They're ones and zeros. Villains and heroes. Villains, yet not all bad. Despite everything life decides to hurl; Despite every brick ball of fear Through the stained glass windows of their minds, Through it all, they survive. They're angry and glad. They're happy and sad. And in their duality, they're still smiling there at your sharp hasty words at your venomous hurt that you wish so desperately they, too, shared.
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
00111010 00101001 00100000
The ghost of you lingers on my mind The echo of your words tangos across my heart The feeling of excitement of falling in love in cyberspace Sexting without remorse or grace A friendship that hits below the waist Intelligent conversations that strokes your passion and ignites your fire I wonder if I'll have anything left to offer Or would the sight of you take me higher up the ladder of my sinful desire Your words drive my imagination wild The touch on my skin, your fingers, lightly caressing my spine This image in my head is so divine Seriously hoping that one day, this feeling will be mine. Pictures and thoughts exchanged on a whim Something strange grows from within Intellectually stimulating every part of me Zeros and ones creates a digital reality Here I am, imagining being in your arms The sweetest words you whisper in my ear My soul yarns for you to be here Feelings your warm body against mines under the cover I long for you, my WhatsApp lover                          ©La Vida Love
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
Whatsapp lover
She laughed like a Furbie With broken voice box Somehow digital and shrill (Low bitrate ***** ) All discreet ones and zeros(um) game I know how to fix her with Aqueous solution seed Fry her circuits like LSD Bring down Skynet With my ****
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
Seed
I’m everything and nothing For where do I belong Everywhere and nowhere Life feels like death To me, and it seems Death feels like life If only I could disappear Gone from this earth And slowly reappear, in hopes of a rebirth To free myself from this pain In a world of no disdain With pleasure and infinite gain This fickle life of endless monotony I yearn to be free from; To be in a world of transient diversity. This skin that I love and hate, In its real and abstract fate Was once brown, now black to date. It seems the winners are losing In a backwards upside down world Where the losers are winning. If I could turn back the hands of time, I’d go back to the year zeros In hopes of a restart and some new heroes. To take everything from the every ones; Some Robin Hood type **** And give something to the no ones.
0
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 5:03 PM UTC
EVRYTHNG & NTHNG
There lives a woman who Seems mystical, even mythical --It is true-- Because she is biblical; Rarer than a precious jewel. She is virtuous She is loyal She is courteous... She is royal. She shines brilliantly, like a star cluster trapped inside a room. She glistens like jubilant sun rays dancing atop the ocean. The wind of her voice sets inspiration in motion, Like a sonic boom. She is powerful. She is virtuous, Who is worthy? Just Wonder & coil In a corner & toil As you ponder this. And honor this Acknowledgment, Because she is royal. Don't dare compare her to the likes of Nefertiti or Isis. They are not so estimable, You couldn't buy her even with a million zeros before the decimal, Because... She is priceless. So the King adorned her, Because the King adores her. She is beautiful, so they say, But such a meager word could not suffice, Because her true charm emanates like waves In the ardent expression of her practice of life. And from her mind and her soul. Her precious heart--more precious than gold-- Looks like a kaleidoscope of rare gems, Darting dazzling colors; the spectrum in whole. Diamonds die in comparison, Hand her a diadem... She is special She is jovial She is gentle She is royal. She is not haughty, Nor does she flaunt like worldly wenches do. She tells girls who've been told they're peasants they can be a princess too. She is not naughty, Nor does she taunt like wanton vixens do... Because she is godly. Yes, indeed there lives a woman who Seems mystical, even mythical --But it is true-- She is virtuous, She is royal... She is you.
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Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
She is Royal
There lives a woman who Seems mystical, even mythical --It is true-- Because she is biblical; Rarer than a precious jewel. She is virtuous She is loyal She is courteous... She is royal. She shines brilliantly, like a star cluster trapped inside a room. She glistens like jubilant sun rays dancing atop the ocean. The wind of her voice sets inspiration in motion, Like a sonic boom. She is powerful. She is virtuous, Who is worthy? Just Wonder & coil In a corner & toil As you ponder this. And honor this Acknowledgment, Because she is royal. Don't dare compare her to the likes of Nefertiti or Isis. They are not so estimable, You couldn't buy her even with a million zeros before the decimal, Because... She is priceless. So the King adorned her, Because the King adores her. She is beautiful, so they say, But such a meager word could not suffice, Because her true charm emanates like waves In the ardent expression of her practice of life. And from her mind and her soul. Her precious heart--more precious than gold-- Looks like a kaleidoscope of rare gems, Darting dazzling colors; the spectrum in whole. Diamonds die in comparison, Hand her a diadem... She is special She is jovial She is gentle She is royal. She is not haughty, Nor does she flaunt like worldly wenches do. She tells girls who've been told they're peasants they can be a princess too. She is not naughty, Nor does she taunt like wanton vixens do... Because she is godly. Yes, indeed there lives a woman who Seems mystical, even mythical --But it is true-- She is virtuous, She is royal... She is you.
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56
I love you baby, From x approaching a limit of positive to negative infinity. A range so large and domain so vast, My love for you will always last. The way my curve touches your tangent, And how your secant meets me end to end. When your line intersects my parabola, We connect at one point of linear algebra. You transform my altitude, When my sinusoidal function allows you too. You make my average rate of change, Quicken and heighten in an instantaneous range. For those days when my angle is in depression, You tilt me up to an angle of elevation. In an isosceles triangle, You will always be my special angle. The identities we cross, Changing from tan to sin over cos. Like sin²x with cos²x we are one, It’s quite simple *** Your imaginary roots maybe out of this world, But my zeros and intercepts will keep it real. It’s a complicated equation, To solve for my fascination. It’s the beginning of our journey, I hope we never come across an inequality. I love you endlessly like x approaching positive and negative infinity.
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Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
My Love For You
our typed up words hide emotions unseen where sound can give a taste of truth and even postcards can reveal the tangles of the century and it's related loves of technology's soft whispers of clicking keys and computer buzz in those ones and zeros that hold us close to heart the miles are still real, seemingly we'll part another buzz another ring another taste of you but can these magical machines bring me more than just the best of you I want to hear the stutter when you're nervous and can't speak, the whisper's of the secrets of what we'll do next week, I want to see your hair disheveled when you get up out of bed the slight portliness of figure like the bearded fella wearing a suit of red I want to taste the treats of the dishes that I've seen and of course I want to taste your lips carrying the flavors of cigar and wine See the the glimmer in your eye When some little excitement passes by And hear loquacious diatribes as to gladly chime on in starting from your normal dinner topics to our lives of sin But all those ones and zero... and our miles still remain hopes of this togetherness from which my brain can not refrain
0
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
untouchable relation
And our brother, too, the metal shaman Reaches up, plucks knowledge from the stars We chant, guttural grunts, primal urges And fierce grinding teeth clenching and screeching The shaman dances and Reaches up, plucks knowledge from the stars And we SCREAM shrill Bare our necks and bring the knife across, **** A sacrifice to the metal beast The shaman stares straight up, Plucks knowledge from the stars And the blood leaves us Hair turns grey Daily exploits lost in deepening wrinkles The macabre ritual culminates... The Shaman, unappeased Laughs like Hyena, cackling REACHES UP AND PLUCKS KNOWLEDGE FROM THE STARS! The existential cacophony diminishes Din dimming Beast is empty Bits flow like blood Ones and zeros in a jumbled pool The shaman delivers The family sits around the glowing box A tribe in an ancient ritual Flip the switch, change the channel The children plucking out their eyes Little blind Oedipus Smashing faces through the tube To the life on the other side Celebrities, products, and reality shows Forget thought Present your mind To the beast A cinematic **** Send Damsels to appease the Minotaur Change the channel
0
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
Silicon Shaman
Seven years I lived my life, fading from reality. Crossing into machinery. Robotics with which I am so unfamiliar. Machined, greased, lubricated parts. Built with a purpose. A meaningless purpose. Destined for failure. A broken down machine I stand. Sit. Lay. Run. Work. Play. Slide. Cursed and wretched as the demons which haunt the dreams of the fallen. I rise above. Skyrocketing through reason. Through the seventh layer of Heaven and Hell. On a false sense of cloud nine I currently float…awaiting the plummet. Its falling away from me. I sail through a shattered sea of broken glass. I closed my eyes and the tears could not flow. Blocked by my eyelids, restricting emotion. After all of this, I am amazed. The wall could be broken. Forgotten faded memories of which I have no say. Of past. Of present. Of gifts. Of futures. Of lists. Lists of black. Hit lists in my head. I live in my head. I am not what I wish. I am what I’m not. I am what I dream. A scream. A cry. Laying here, blank as the page on which I cannot create a scene. A scene behind my eyes, yet I cannot attain it on paper. These words flow meaninglessly, but not slow. Daedalus, Icarus, Thrice. Three times I roam. Randomized plains of thought, laid out on a digital page. Keys, not a pen. Ones and Zeros, not ink. Screens, not pages. Neat, not sloppy…yet my words do not understand one another… nor do I…. If we make the mainland, this song would not be made. Epic beauty, formed through misfortune and tragedy. Oh son…I beg you…keep a steady wing. For you are the only one who means anything to me. My wings are made of melting, shredding, fading elements. The sun, heating, lighting, someday dying. I understand that nothing is as it may seem. Nor is any seam as true as the seamstress believed. The Gods did not take the only thing which meant anything to you, father of legend. Your son is not dead…only afire. Acquired by the forces you believed to be merciful.
0
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
Daedalus
Seven years I lived my life, fading from reality. Crossing into machinery. Robotics with which I am so unfamiliar. Machined, greased, lubricated parts. Built with a purpose. A meaningless purpose. Destined for failure. A broken down machine I stand. Sit. Lay. Run. Work. Play. Slide. Cursed and wretched as the demons which haunt the dreams of the fallen. I rise above. Skyrocketing through reason. Through the seventh layer of Heaven and Hell. On a false sense of cloud nine I currently float…awaiting the plummet. Its falling away from me. I sail through a shattered sea of broken glass. I closed my eyes and the tears could not flow. Blocked by my eyelids, restricting emotion. After all of this, I am amazed. The wall could be broken. Forgotten faded memories of which I have no say. Of past. Of present. Of gifts. Of futures. Of lists. Lists of black. Hit lists in my head. I live in my head. I am not what I wish. I am what I’m not. I am what I dream. A scream. A cry. Laying here, blank as the page on which I cannot create a scene. A scene behind my eyes, yet I cannot attain it on paper. These words flow meaninglessly, but not slow. Daedalus, Icarus, Thrice. Three times I roam. Randomized plains of thought, laid out on a digital page. Keys, not a pen. Ones and Zeros, not ink. Screens, not pages. Neat, not sloppy…yet my words do not understand one another… nor do I…. If we make the mainland, this song would not be made. Epic beauty, formed through misfortune and tragedy. Oh son…I beg you…keep a steady wing. For you are the only one who means anything to me. My wings are made of melting, shredding, fading elements. The sun, heating, lighting, someday dying. I understand that nothing is as it may seem. Nor is any seam as true as the seamstress believed. The Gods did not take the only thing which meant anything to you, father of legend. Your son is not dead…only afire. Acquired by the forces you believed to be merciful.
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6
I wish I was there with you,   Watching the ocean break its green On white Australian rock. I wish I was there with you, Seeing a thunder storm form, Knowing the only shelter we had Was our rental car parked On an Arizonan desert roadside, As we opened our bottles and prepared For the night. I wish that was your hand in mine, As we counted crows landing on Stonehenge. That that was you I shared a snow cave with In the deadly sub-zeros of the Finnmark Plains. I wish that was you with me. Even going for walks here, under the Northern Lights on a January night, Both dimmed with dad's home brew and What not, content with the fact That we'd wish We were there with Each other, if with Anyone else.
0
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Crows Landing on Stonehenge
I shaved away the edges until there was nothing left, but a dream of what could have been, and so with frustration i accepted the jagged. A common law of common flaws, as my face morphs into mask. I still wonder, when it all will collide, building up inside ... So much. Too much. Electrified in the the allure of my ruthless retorts, as i struggle in futile resistance to the inevitable. The feeling is incredible, when you let all just go. As it gently flows from the empathy into ecstasy, learning to love thy enemy, even as they are metaphorically stabbing me in the back. Euphorically to react to the sensations in my lap when shes next to me. Hexing me in a shellacking smack to my mannerisms Her summer dress to address my cynicism, as it flows back from whence it came. Detained in her image. Restrained, in questioned worth. Worth a thousand words. Words never heard but seen in synesthesia. Synesthesia saving my amnesia from forgotten verbs that be-heave us, in forgetful stumbling of the loving mumblings before the kiss. The kiss dismissing the winded blue lips from the fumbled wits of love. Love drown the fires ablaze as it spirals away. Away from the journey. Journey of the uninterrupted. Uninterrupted in the hunting of my comforts. Comfort in the squiggled lines. Lines that pack a little comfort. Comfort in the blinds, as i sacrifice my obedience for a little bit of expedience on the smile that awaits, this toothless face. Bludgeoned stupid, as i pace at half mass, blinded in the tall grass of empty lands amassed in colors unseen with tunneled eyes that refuse to defy gravity. Gravity in your roads chosen. Chosen in the glow of abodes ablaze. Amazed in starlit eyes. Eyes to dream. Dream of better ways. Ways to clean the bad away. Away with my wayward words. Words observed in zero. Zeros the point in which i met her, blinded in the blur, as im pulled to her.
0
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
(Its all goes out the window)
I shaved away the edges until there was nothing left, but a dream of what could have been, and so with frustration i accepted the jagged. A common law of common flaws, as my face morphs into mask. I still wonder, when it all will collide, building up inside ... So much. Too much. Electrified in the the allure of my ruthless retorts, as i struggle in futile resistance to the inevitable. The feeling is incredible, when you let all just go. As it gently flows from the empathy into ecstasy, learning to love thy enemy, even as they are metaphorically stabbing me in the back. Euphorically to react to the sensations in my lap when shes next to me. Hexing me in a shellacking smack to my mannerisms Her summer dress to address my cynicism, as it flows back from whence it came. Detained in her image. Restrained, in questioned worth. Worth a thousand words. Words never heard but seen in synesthesia. Synesthesia saving my amnesia from forgotten verbs that be-heave us, in forgetful stumbling of the loving mumblings before the kiss. The kiss dismissing the winded blue lips from the fumbled wits of love. Love drown the fires ablaze as it spirals away. Away from the journey. Journey of the uninterrupted. Uninterrupted in the hunting of my comforts. Comfort in the squiggled lines. Lines that pack a little comfort. Comfort in the blinds, as i sacrifice my obedience for a little bit of expedience on the smile that awaits, this toothless face. Bludgeoned stupid, as i pace at half mass, blinded in the tall grass of empty lands amassed in colors unseen with tunneled eyes that refuse to defy gravity. Gravity in your roads chosen. Chosen in the glow of abodes ablaze. Amazed in starlit eyes. Eyes to dream. Dream of better ways. Ways to clean the bad away. Away with my wayward words. Words observed in zero. Zeros the point in which i met her, blinded in the blur, as im pulled to her.
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34
So many                                  eyes,        which bleed           unpausing;   Pronouns punctuated;        P a u s e,               exhale
0
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 8:56 AM UTC
The eloquence of Zeros... in the eyes of Heroes (10w)
Love...still a token of existence, your Merciful Testament made time so distant. The Heart of Man is now hollow and dark, living is a mere breath of chance and luck. Our Planet has lost its Heroes now, ask our parents, all the Bikos now lay on pillows coz of the Ones and Zeros. I still Love my World and your eminence Lord or maybe you to Priests and Presidents more. These words are not to be written once again, they exist only in the truth and light of this page once and never again. For I'm not proud of the latter...people's vices as hate surfaces, you would expect something better. Kids perish, always in harm's way, deem the manner...nowadays, parents are kids on an Aids' ladder. Envision the World and Pray, when you see through the eyes of a Kid who's a bit fatter. Food shortage on the News footage while we hold our plates, carnage and wars killing our foliage, we hold a future without days. As vanity reigns, I fear our image will grow mutant. Ancestors will abandon our sanity ways like a school headed by students, weak and lucent. I pray for core amends dearly and hope for better trends Earthly and in the Sea, so this Letter can just be a lonely message in a bottle drifting away steadily in the deep... Sincerely yours, Oasis
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
Letter
The presence of our contemporary age Alters artistic vision down a spiral of emptiness. Artist no longer create the visual page, Their spellbound by ambitions of digital laziness. Visions lost to the age of simplicity, Erased to machines’ evil desires, Deluded by storms of deception, Creativity ceased as hell endures its fires. Instant gratification — the new reality — The yearning for excellence, no endurability. Modern day artistic creativity, Coerced by digital debility. Tradition bankrupt by false realities, Lost to a pallet of ones and zeros; Artwork with no archival ability, The future lost to modern day technologies.
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Sep 6, 2022
Sep 6, 2022 at 1:32 PM UTC
Art Has Died. All that's left, a future of erased memories with 1's & 0's.
Ones and Zeros In the online digital world Every boy and every girl Are villains and heroes Who knows which? Son a of a *****   The truth is lies Wrapped up in disguise We want to believe Electronic love we receive Is not there to deceive The flirting The sexting The online molexting **** pic rejecting   Encrypted ascii code Sent through internet nodes Wireless whispers transmitted Thoughts of endearment committed Fact are conveniently omitted Lies are ruthlessly submitted   Straight jacket Packet hackers Hijacking a loving heart Holding it ransom is their art Scourge of the community Harassing Surpassing Any level of dignity   Players and haters And the masturbators The downright crazies Acting like timid daisies The cheaters Defeaters And quite possibly Wife beaters   The losers The boozers Mentally abusers The popular sexter Who may not be a her Quite possibly a guy But will vehemently deny   The whiner Data miner The ********* seeking minor The scammer The Christian Damner Super **** grammar All thrown in together With the digital picture collector   And still we’re looking all around For love to be found In a world of made believe That anonymously deceives We are ones seeking zeroes Running into villains dressed up as heroes   Hearts shredded and deleted Retreating and defeated Yet somehow we try again Hoping for something less than pain We are all a little bit insane Playing the online dating game One’s and Zero’s
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
ONES AND ZEROS
What is hoped trickling between splintered crags of hard matter as between slabs of sliced I like water through the desert crust the beginning-end fusioned whole? it resplendent through the cracks? What might be enough for its time being might be the first loosening a knot’s dissolution beginning unwrapping light and breath deep underground after prying like suffocation the thing loose, never budged, still you yanked, pulled, screamed, spumed, more than frustration through your fingertips. For the brain, don’t be fooled, s’more the psychedelic fruit than just saying apple computer the pulpous embryo of imagination feeding what seed, sprouting tendrils, protracts without desire (but causing desire) ever outward, growing, clasping, (hinging on unhinging) meshing an electric net and collapsing a shock they say until the taste of its taste is so succulently pungent that after hours of dull mumbling its projection upon the mirrors it bursts in puffs of screams short tense contractions [image fizzing, over-heating]. Like a cracked computer reading an animal program: *Alpha Beast of the Ill-Illusioned*. Or: *Runt Wolf of Gaia, the Undarwinian Survivor*. Software ones and zeros digitizing the command: Must do the act cannot be done. Till it breaks. Unimagined.
0
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
Over-heating
She had the poison in her veins I was trying to **** it out vampire doctor trying to tough it out radio blunt in my mouth receiving the truth of the devil thought I was a running man till I bottomed out on the level where accidents happen reality clappin' praising my downfall she's got the poison in her soul and I'm the cobra of the year... Strange how rain falls like time passes ones and zeros stained glass of our past rosier than we remember darker than September wish I could go back wish memory were dead marching on like ants on a hill my will, and it's not steel my passion for tragedy has a fixation on old mills spinning in circles I'm caught in the drain funnel of mayhem funnel of ******* high on life, we chase the goals of the dope game higher and higher expecting our lives will all change I question the Lord more than I question myself That's why I'm lost cause you can't question the Law's land purpose is powerful peace is potent patience is placid power is purposeful you can run around and question the question the question the question but have the integrity to answer and you're adorned with blessings high towers fall in the storms of change tranquility is denial of the form of truth acceptance of truth's realities transforms us I taste it the elixir of the problem of war power is an addiction addiction is a cage to be free, we require power to break addiction's vice grip so you see the conundrum a paradoxical illusion it is placing our faith in the infinite that we grow loose the bonds of human decay and sow what God sows my belief is in the wisdom of man to choose divinity those who choose death are the eternal wicked enemy wasting the fortunes that we will harvest in the times to come when humanity is free to love and love as one.
0
Aug 1, 2022
Aug 1, 2022 at 7:46 AM UTC
The Paradox of Power...
She had the poison in her veins I was trying to **** it out vampire doctor trying to tough it out radio blunt in my mouth receiving the truth of the devil thought I was a running man till I bottomed out on the level where accidents happen reality clappin' praising my downfall she's got the poison in her soul and I'm the cobra of the year... Strange how rain falls like time passes ones and zeros stained glass of our past rosier than we remember darker than September wish I could go back wish memory were dead marching on like ants on a hill my will, and it's not steel my passion for tragedy has a fixation on old mills spinning in circles I'm caught in the drain funnel of mayhem funnel of ******* high on life, we chase the goals of the dope game higher and higher expecting our lives will all change I question the Lord more than I question myself That's why I'm lost cause you can't question the Law's land purpose is powerful peace is potent patience is placid power is purposeful you can run around and question the question the question the question but have the integrity to answer and you're adorned with blessings high towers fall in the storms of change tranquility is denial of the form of truth acceptance of truth's realities transforms us I taste it the elixir of the problem of war power is an addiction addiction is a cage to be free, we require power to break addiction's vice grip so you see the conundrum a paradoxical illusion it is placing our faith in the infinite that we grow loose the bonds of human decay and sow what God sows my belief is in the wisdom of man to choose divinity those who choose death are the eternal wicked enemy wasting the fortunes that we will harvest in the times to come when humanity is free to love and love as one.
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65
I am a robot, I like what I see You humans are beginning to act just like me I am a robot, my number is three Just a coincidence, no trinity We are all robots, we work for free Trading labor for paper, so desperately I met a human, it takes care of me I get all the ones and the zeros I can read I am a human, I like what I see You robots are beginning to act just like me I am a human, my number is five Just a coincidence, I’m not alive I am a human, remember me? I have a soul and I won’t sell it cheap You are a human, never forget No matter what those ****** robots Threaten you with
0
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 9:59 PM UTC
我是一個機器人
hold          me          close    enough          to feel            the heart      that isn't          there beating         and we can    pretend we're          right  for  each          other if we just     ignore the pain          and maybe one          day you'll finally    catch me alone          and I'll decide          I've had enough    of this empty           separation           why can't we    just be          one empty          heart   instead            of            two
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Two Zeros Just Equal One, One Zero That Is
An abyss that echoes shrieks of eagles circling above: the moon lies smashed in her sunken depths by nights, this pit of enveloping darkness, a vessel emptied of life. Brick by brick, aeons layer her walls, who knows when she was dug? she carries fragrances of primordial waters gathered in the heart of earth to the winds of the present. Long before Joseph's well, she stood when desert land was verdant wood, and before the earth was tread asunder by the chariot, this graveyard of the stars. Plunder she has seen, and abuse as she towers over the past. Not a wellspring, emptied dry, but a bowl abegging. The bowl that gave a creed to a continent? Caravans pass by disgraced crevices remnant of that era, gone long of stone. Effeminate, she pawned her bricks over for a life. Or a well to collect the dead, frightened by the hundreds by the colonial bullet. Rise and fall, she carries in her wheel of life, her spoked zero. Of which yet arises a homespun yarn of dreams. Darkness wells forth from this abysmal chasm, and her waters cause feuds by brother to brother. Men of straw, of whom in a few years, no trace would remain, yet remain and the dove that flew the night a tryst was made still challenges the jacketed savant on Parliament square. A pair of inverted eyes guard the gates of darkness. And now and again, you see yet a star shooting out to the skies again from the waters: to the moon, a mushroom cloud, a circling satellite, and an octet notes. She's not one well: her waters brackish, are a thousand islands, that came together under the shadow of an empire on whom the sun never sets. Count the roots of the banyan, trees. Her sons grow weak and lumpen. Her daughters rise. And so she endures, this ancient mother. In her depths, on the day, when the star of David is reversed, she endures the ******** reversed, that shined in her of ages ago. Of men, two quarters great, arise from the same shadow: The eagle on the west, and the dove on the east. The not is the all, the zero is everything. Eternity, two zeros conjoined.
0
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
Freedom!
An abyss that echoes shrieks of eagles circling above: the moon lies smashed in her sunken depths by nights, this pit of enveloping darkness, a vessel emptied of life. Brick by brick, aeons layer her walls, who knows when she was dug? she carries fragrances of primordial waters gathered in the heart of earth to the winds of the present. Long before Joseph's well, she stood when desert land was verdant wood, and before the earth was tread asunder by the chariot, this graveyard of the stars. Plunder she has seen, and abuse as she towers over the past. Not a wellspring, emptied dry, but a bowl abegging. The bowl that gave a creed to a continent? Caravans pass by disgraced crevices remnant of that era, gone long of stone. Effeminate, she pawned her bricks over for a life. Or a well to collect the dead, frightened by the hundreds by the colonial bullet. Rise and fall, she carries in her wheel of life, her spoked zero. Of which yet arises a homespun yarn of dreams. Darkness wells forth from this abysmal chasm, and her waters cause feuds by brother to brother. Men of straw, of whom in a few years, no trace would remain, yet remain and the dove that flew the night a tryst was made still challenges the jacketed savant on Parliament square. A pair of inverted eyes guard the gates of darkness. And now and again, you see yet a star shooting out to the skies again from the waters: to the moon, a mushroom cloud, a circling satellite, and an octet notes. She's not one well: her waters brackish, are a thousand islands, that came together under the shadow of an empire on whom the sun never sets. Count the roots of the banyan, trees. Her sons grow weak and lumpen. Her daughters rise. And so she endures, this ancient mother. In her depths, on the day, when the star of David is reversed, she endures the ******** reversed, that shined in her of ages ago. Of men, two quarters great, arise from the same shadow: The eagle on the west, and the dove on the east. The not is the all, the zero is everything. Eternity, two zeros conjoined.
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39
got poetry to show to my friends but im thinking of deleting my twitter my thoughts aren't as cool as I wish they could be, so bookmark my HP page for the updates the summer is chillin and im going places my mom doesn't want me to go to just because a place brings back bad memories doesn't mean I shouldn't be there Im past all of the stupidness and accepted my foolishness, no need for the reminders my ego is drowning my link on my insta no need for tweeting my emotions my tumblr is boring but so are your hobbies im writing for some dollars for more pencils, im running out of them i got some money but thats for anything that comes coincidently coincidence no need for some pens because I cant erase mistakes with them nhom site under construction so give us a few weekends our weeks are productive we hustle until we get it **** what you're doing there isn't any way but the need way so excuse your missing bikes, we're 16 and we're foolin we order pizza and write down ideas no time for galleria we ride for adventure on two weels interacting for promo no need for hiding behind some screens my life is a run on but thats how it should be no time for breaks, sleep is an option lead is necessary rooftops capture sentences paintings illustrate our visions if you dont contact me then why should I I should be humble but my account has 4 zeros, my mom dont trust me with it so I dont know the pasword That child support is piling up, I dont really care got miles on miles on miles on miles on miles ridden on my bike but I haven't gone anywhere but the city Im aiming for the carpet so when we go back to school I'm bringing my summer Got numbers as options but there's no reason to hit them up, got a good one I'm grateful I'm riding fast my way don't slow me down, is this a comeup? I don't know I'm just going along Come up from suburbs, I want to live high until my view is the moutains Im from Dallas but that don't mean nothing, no city defining where I'm going because I was on the 26th floor when I was at my lowest and I wasn't even on coke these days my grind is so lowkey, im sleep deprived my paint never dries, my brushes are always getting washed but these projects aren't for the public I only have a few questions, is love really real? should I sleep more? i dont know but Monarch dr is gonna be in a book one day
0
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
sloppy run on randon
got poetry to show to my friends but im thinking of deleting my twitter my thoughts aren't as cool as I wish they could be, so bookmark my HP page for the updates the summer is chillin and im going places my mom doesn't want me to go to just because a place brings back bad memories doesn't mean I shouldn't be there Im past all of the stupidness and accepted my foolishness, no need for the reminders my ego is drowning my link on my insta no need for tweeting my emotions my tumblr is boring but so are your hobbies im writing for some dollars for more pencils, im running out of them i got some money but thats for anything that comes coincidently coincidence no need for some pens because I cant erase mistakes with them nhom site under construction so give us a few weekends our weeks are productive we hustle until we get it **** what you're doing there isn't any way but the need way so excuse your missing bikes, we're 16 and we're foolin we order pizza and write down ideas no time for galleria we ride for adventure on two weels interacting for promo no need for hiding behind some screens my life is a run on but thats how it should be no time for breaks, sleep is an option lead is necessary rooftops capture sentences paintings illustrate our visions if you dont contact me then why should I I should be humble but my account has 4 zeros, my mom dont trust me with it so I dont know the pasword That child support is piling up, I dont really care got miles on miles on miles on miles on miles ridden on my bike but I haven't gone anywhere but the city Im aiming for the carpet so when we go back to school I'm bringing my summer Got numbers as options but there's no reason to hit them up, got a good one I'm grateful I'm riding fast my way don't slow me down, is this a comeup? I don't know I'm just going along Come up from suburbs, I want to live high until my view is the moutains Im from Dallas but that don't mean nothing, no city defining where I'm going because I was on the 26th floor when I was at my lowest and I wasn't even on coke these days my grind is so lowkey, im sleep deprived my paint never dries, my brushes are always getting washed but these projects aren't for the public I only have a few questions, is love really real? should I sleep more? i dont know but Monarch dr is gonna be in a book one day
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29
a series of negations notated through angles cascading, effervescent in my life and wayward my creation an algorithmic error personalized, recapitulated almalgams of ones ones and zeros looking back I see that sometimes I would stitch together turning melodies from the sinews of the noise I took from their bellies but mainly, back then I just drooled red into the clamor - a decade later I possess striking imagery my very own proverb on visual omnipotence but its tacky doesn’t oblige me no more than the sheets of apathy I peeled from my skin I found a purpose that flows through my ears and with it, happily I am taken away
0
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 1:53 AM UTC
negations/rivers