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Is all about time,
timing. . .
Just give me
more time,
I'm working on it.

On everything.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2019
Poem Analysis

1st read, I thought gibberish,
2nd I thought Hmmm,
3rd I thought interesting,
4th I felt genius
.  billy


your poem comment-dissects my poem
my process,
a marathon interview for a new poem pole position,
limb by limb, word by word,
chewed and re-chewed,
like a tiring piece of bubble gum,
the flavor remaining ebbs, but is not extinguished,
and can live in your mouth,
forever

and the praise and this poem,
not a rodomontade,
for your comment dear Billy,
is the process description of a poet’s labor,
from word first to a baby’s birth,

gibberish into genius

emergent from first pain, then pushing, then tilled, at long last,
the dirtiest immaculate conception beautiful

billy reads my rambling, silly abstruse^ & wrote me:
1st read I thought gibberish,
2nd I thought Hmmm,
3rd I thought interesting,
4th I felt genius


this is a much loved critique
for I well recall each step of creation,
a summarizing parallel
that your words+genes replicated so well,
forgiving you a minor typo, Billy,

it was genus, not genius that you meant

(but then again, why quibble over a miscellaneous, harmless, delighting, tiny little  extra i...not me, said he, my muse ego )

Billy has gone gray dotted, but his dot, his comment,
with gratitude,
in me, he,
lives for ever

I feel gibberish coming on...
theres a man called millyard always on tv  
a genuis and  clever intelligent is he
he loves motorcycles builds  them by the score
brings  them back to life makes the run once more

i watch him all the time doing different things
very entertaining lots of joy he brings
i watch him with his friends  henry and skid to
find it fix it flog it and the things they do

such a clever man a genuis is he
that i love to watch when he is on tv

tribute to Alan millyard
Daniel A Russ Jul 2010
Maiden, maiden, maiden, a depilidate mobious minaret –
Holical, Eris begs an atlatl defection, the
Genuis-from-Mars technique – an erathicus lecanopteris.
Suffretex, past-perfection in pastel gloxinia,
Glowingly acidic and shiftingly glossidic, it’s cosmaltry mariala;
Ungual outmoded, holonym singing Aquilar rapax as demiurge.
Demos and Phobos weep, coruscating terrathos, killing riva.

Swell quickly, optic ophidia, lest the ira florena rise –
Rise, maiden, rise optic ophidia, ignore Irredelphine!
Strut the hematacolpa and pace-willow, but fail flow:
Deciduous telechir beckons, demanding autobogotic-hajra.
****-venom and picea hovea, eche verri naught echo –
Beta-decay and COBOL error, fandango with teeth
And sing praise for Eucladanic soignè solaris

Sprint quick, maiden-solidago gesparisè, to Misra pourum!
Majerns and hapax, death-knell aloud and encelia,
Enfloranè, haste! Enatic haste tichodrome, flee, anise!
Apios, harken: tryst-sans-thermobic sweeping of thresher-thrown,
Little-low else yet achroma, de-jubilance:
Fall fairly, ayah! So to be so, blanking systemic,
A thousand steps for one death.
Tramaine Powell Jul 2013
Is it wrong of me to be sexually satisfied,
merely by the expansiveness of your mental capacity?
Intrigued by your complacence.
See, at first you were just this figment of my imagination.
But now you've transcended,
into this complete sensation.
No matter the misconceptions that others may have about you,
I could never replace you.
I could go on and on about the metaphors
that compare you to the sun,
or other gleaming objects.
But really, my attraction for you is far more complex,
to just subsidize you to comparison you probably already met.
I no longer base my relationship on ***,
I now seek intelligence,
an intellectual, oratorical genuis - one who knows what the birds say,
why the ocean waves, why society emphasizes self-hate.
And ever since I've sought all of those determining qualities in you,
I've since, loved you.
Revolute Jay Aug 2012
I want poetry to break out of it's underground cave
Break out of the solitary lonely, locked cage.


I want my poetry to be capable of inspiring change
I want to illustrate beauty in a verse beautifully maimed
I want to communicate the tender sudden pulse of a surface wound
I want my poetry to be blueprints for change, in the world, or a room
I want to connect the universal nerve of tremors and feelings
I want to connect wires and vessels, shifting cells and ceilings
I want to broadcast this current human condition,
Rewiring like a revolutionary electrician
I want to transcend my, and next time,
With my poems added to anthologies
And each of their lines
Being recited by literary scholars and dedicated readers


But I have accepted some poets are popular during their lifetimes
Like Alice Cary, and Maya Angelou
With acknowledged, renowned, printed
Published Stanzas, and lines.
I want to at the very least, be one of those who guard a hidden, folded..
[Rather than outdated, infamous, tattered and broken]
..genuis.
Or maybe an answer to some past hanging question
Found in the very letters in my words to
The trademarked inflection
Breathing a bashful verse that grew in this universe
Or the next
To strengthen roots of the beauty of language
The older, the wiser, the more interpreted complex
Not the unknown but claimed roots of American poetry
And some
May close the **** kindle. Or rip out the last page.
After I die, I might return with bones live with rage.


Because if nothing has happened, I will continue to say:
I want my poetry to be capable of inspiring change.


Because we are destroying a world we should be killing fighting to save.
(Hopefully this shan't be said again from a grave.)
Each person who has read solely to write one more page
Take your weapons, inspire, engage
None can lay bricks until a clear path is paved.

iii.viii.xii
Copyright © Jimena Zavaleta 2012
Shannon Rose Feb 2016
A heartbeat
A soul of sparkling suns under a telescope
Breathing with life

Every glitter sparkles
Every breathe is carefully present
The notes placed on your fingers breathe
They live as you

A soul in the air lingers above you
Everyone lives around you and streams of genuis bounce in
Like a flock of birds
A dandelion in the wind
A shock
The breathe is lost in the strings

And as the bow drops and waves of presence shine upon you
The slow motions of drums and ease mellow
Your breathe was melodic like the sea
It held long enough
And it said
You are beautiful
My beautiful friend is a cello player and her Honors Recital is tomorrow. This is dedicated to all of her magnificent work as a cellist.
wehttam Jun 2014
So writing less
and less than before.
As is losing a cressindo
is the score
of the symphonies
rhapsody.  Musickally
non talented, has magic
left the air.  
Assuming we are
all homeless and
treated by the
dust, reason.
Just completely out
on the dolly I trucked
the word Laureate in on.
Parting furnature with
lasting thoughts of
desire, for a thesourus
or a dictionary for
holistism.  The unholy
dead have starved them
selves after dieting on my
quarrel similarly, I may
need to be an action star
to recieve the spirit of
entrepidness again.  
Laziness has met the design
of my libido, and I can not
ever imagine being single.
No face to book, unless of
course to reprove prophetering.
And No, seems to be the
one and only world,
I had to be in.  Hittin it like an
old cloud with silver linings.  
Like slang.  Not really having it.
and *******, sexism, troubled
teens, the things of this world
that bother the US Marshals.
Actually begging the President
let me have his job and Joe's car.
What person uses the word
chortle to get through a
chidleish man.  Anyways,
heres to thinking of writing
poetry and leaving the under
world to be a monster,...
Anyways!  
I so much prefer to not over
write a zeal such as a poets.
Super trusted, trusty,
like an understanding
about cowboys with guns
in hip holsters, working
cattle and brushing
there teeth twice daily.
Yea, there teeth,
some here on the bottom
and not many on the top.
But ya no, not many
people think about tooth
brushes.  Teeth brushes
thats like a scratch on
the chalk board with out
finger nails.  I'll be the
poety lauretey kind of person
that loves to die young
and get old.  Ill be the
most misunderstood
thing on the face of the
earth and have to eat
a ham sandwich or
something.  Ill be the kind
of person who just
doesnt get some relationships.
Like, peanut butter and pickle
cereal.  Or socks made with
holes in them.  ***, sir,...
what are you writing?
Ill say poems, they say you
are not a poet, and Ill say
try some pocket lint to
clone a poodle or something.
Most of the time,
Ill crack a huge smile
and simply pleasure some
one and they will say 'What."
With out a question mark.
Then for some reason
punctuation is a majorly
late subject to emoticons
and dragon lords in
movie scrips.  An now, meeting
the reason that I felt no muse was
that I have been laughing out
loud at intellegence as is the
genuis of carisma.  Who cares
if Im not smart?  Graduating
is such a bore.  Gum is not ever
a turn on, and some way watching
people chew it is rude.  Comparing
two doves to each other is Darwinism.
Living alone with my mother and
step father is not going to last long.
But serves as the most important
thing to do now.   Any of the promises
of reading dedicated poetry is
almost to much favor.  Is there a
way to stay the allostatic load
of a perfectly running deisel
engine.  Where do poems find
gas?  or fuel as sir does say.
And now, what to do with a
wonderful heart.  I am pleased to
say that I am almost the King, but
must impress the most boring
people on earth without the
giant panda bear of a
poet that has made me
love this song.
Donna Bella Jun 2015
Her
Mentally dismantled
Spiritually a bundled
Cranium tasseled
Failed attainment
Craze by the crowds
Oh how I feel demised
Trained by the master
Hidden intellect
Chosen few has heard
Chosen few has experienced
Life changing words
Brain is so superb
Tongue twisters is a love spot for the genuis that is her
She is her
Her is me
Her is you
Her is us
Her is many
Many of the intellects
Many of the power holders
Many of the strong
Many of her
Mark McConville Jul 2014
I'm speechless,
Held back by your words,
Of faith and harmony,
I place my hand on your face,
You heat me up,
The warmth is arresting.

We waltz through the barrage,
Of profanity and hurt,
We take no action,
We stand and watch the failings,
We intertwine and keep our hearts,
From being strangled by the hands of mistrust.

You're the one,
With a waist the size of a line,
Painted on the road that leads to paradise,
We're unbreakable.

The sound of the music,
Enlightens us,
The sweetness of the piano,
The subtleness of the violin.

I need you,
You're my medication,
The drama queen,
The artist of the painting that hangs,
Above the unmade bed.

So we have it all,
You have the attributes of a genuis,
The character that a fable yelps for,
I am the disaster,
With hands that shake like an earthquake,
We're unbreakable.
what a calamity i arise to befall
The step i climbed to miss
The ground that drunk of the water i swallowed.
Hissing and blazing, in a count of configuration
The bundles of antiquities flown by the naked ventures of tranquility
Here i bore the question with an empty head of lessonless mind
Look now that i smile nay i show non by the face
See to my lips and read yourself the smiles
Is it all yours
Or you beg for less the more i offer
Many as lame i be to walk, the blind and beauty of those i lead, the bright to line by my back the genuis stuck by my ways.
Aint no way through my heart is taken, hugged in a jar of Love to the hunter of my soul
I see not to venture go by the gone in the
I heal what is hurt in my hurt from the heart
******* the ugly beauty of an angered mind, sweeting gallons of hope to thee that seeks non but faith
Down my injuries i heal of you
To say bye i lie for i stay not to fear but of my choice to go far the worry to stay in one past the known one for joy
I cometh as i leap & leave as i leap, Leaping to stay and to leave the leaper but non for one
Now am there, to stay and to be this to me is further i go to stay her meekness am drawned her thickness am strive her boldness i lay her softness i am dragged
How do i and so can i not be  not to run a race past the behind of my favorite front
ZL Jun 2014
The last supper
family, friends,
maybe lovers
gathered around
to pay last dues.

I watch from the corner
a smile on my face
nod my head
I miss you all too
but I am silent.

I am still,
I anxiously wait
as they pass around
my organs on a hefty platter
a genuis of a plate.

Finally able to pick my brain,
to feed my
hunger games,
and quench my
thirsty pains.

Life was hatred,
death was love
A mystery it truly was!
I sit with father
full with gladness
& glory from high above.
blurbs, suburbs, writings, hasty tastings, fibres and frame, grilled, softened, appreciated, excruciatingly talented, genuis, hocus pocus spelled incorrectly, ironiclly, at the end of a misplaced magic trick, houdini in a fix and liking it, holden Caulfield with a girlfriend and a glass of champagne, mesmerized landscape architect workers tracing billions of samples and coming out insane, sane ****** monsters with no idea of where to turn to next, bottles of budlight, a crucifix,
misplaced, erase one memoiry, and another one emerges, out of a cloud, and it sits there for awhile, assured of itself, then once again, drops out of the race, a low bass chord, and the protagonist character takes a drag of his cigarette, and it’s all over
Tenaj May 2017
My mind decieved me, then my tongue betrayed me
but maybe deception is perception
betrayal being a fictitious potrayal of the I dont knows
What is crucial to a person, the body, spirit, mind

Social  constructs, deliberate until you are left debilitated
Question, Who I am, only to learn whom I am not
What is crucial to a person, the body, hardly, when flesh can rot
Age old questions require new age response

Mark and remark, flames, ignited by a spark in the dark
emotionally violent, the boat that rocks the sea with its pleasantries
Hence remember me, memories
Our minds are entities, saturated in discrepancies, enraged tumultously

Genuine genuis is that which rejects its own place in the world
Knowing that knowing is the same as not
It is the water that clings to itself, shaping itself
It is the eternal spirit, that if it were to die, would never know

~Another Dream Deferred
Michael Parish Mar 2015
He gasps and and exales with his cheap door open.

I have a delima because...

How can he trust my honesty.  

We watched our son replay a delusion
How can we sit and tell him reality doesn't mean eternity.  
I'm only close...
He holds his licked breathing, one bridge  could hold his body in a
White pearly coffin.

No matter how he grows my husband forgets he is crazy.  Some how jobs go awry,  jokes, humor, pleasure and reality mean: he will die toothless and unhappy.  

I told him in a truthful drunken nite:  
You are homosexual because I never watched you kiss or grab a can of red paint.  He only works for his drunkedness.  But he gets better, because he want the music he can't transpose.  He wants something he can't understand to translate Into genuis.  I am a mother...
I am a women who can die from bee stings.

I hope he comes home before I fall asleep.
KV Srikanth Jan 2021
The Prince of Tripura
Prince of Music
Only child of Sachin Dev
A king amongst composers
Was born Rahul Dev
Toddler cried in 5 notes
Hence named Pancham
Livelihood in Music
Like fish to Water
Tabla and Harmonica
Learnt playing in order
Compose for movies
Ready for the struggle
Breaking in impossible
Dream remain a dream
Assisted father
A legend peak of career
To fill in the coffers
Nobody knew
What he had to offer
Insults swallowed
Rejections followed
Years in limbo
Acted in cameo
Waited in the wings till
Vijay Anand offeres Teesri Manzil
Supported by giants
Dazzling Score broke records from yore
Straight into people's heart like never before
Musician he was not
He was the Music
Talent Skill Genuis
All words in the dictionary
Couldn't fit his personality
Yet to find a word so true
To describe his music pure
No pinnacle
No Nadir
Music has a scale
He doesn't
Genre didn't matter
What was flowing was a river
Your ability to take
Was the music that came
Thinking and Doing
Duality hed overcome
Music written and scored
Magic Wand in hand
One stroke up  and down
Tunes piled up on the
Gramaphone
500 films
3 Decades
Immortality achieved
No point counting
Still flowing
Music still gushing
Immeasurable
Enough inside
No bar time or tide
Beethoven Bach Mozart
Monet Van Gogh Picasso
Forever remain their art
Likewise the Burman Craft
You talk like you're the expert
On almost everything
Once you make your statement
You act like it came from King
And all of us should bow down
To the wisdom that you bring
But a genuis is smart enough to know
They don't really know
Anything
Check my worth my flows gettin' mucho networth
Similiar to new birth creatin' girth yo who's worse
Than these chuckie cheese emcees talkin' like they
Killin' the industry but they under me
Like they sneaky keep killers and rukas with me
**** a street credibility I even seen a homeless man catch a body
In Little Italy another tally tossed in the alley now he walkin' in the valley
In the Shadow of death holdin'  my clips I bust til.its nothing left
Then reload if I gotta got more magic than Harry Potter
Burn you with my lyrical lava meltin' all seven of ya chakras
Fools swear they Hollywood like Chaka
Khan this one's for big pun puttin' holes in one
Like a swing from golf club linked with a holy cherub
Rollin' herbs to calm my nerves so my rhymes can reserve
The beat down comin' next to the MC that tries to serve
Me with the weak bars I'll leave em with stars
Wreck em like a car collision see my visions
They lock up mentally into a prison
From my rhymin' aligorithm

Not from Nueva York I be an iron man like Tony Sparks
Suckas scared of the light cuz I got the Dark
Forces around me nothing but energy
Suckas magnetized by my mental Infantry
Gunnin' with grande ammo never wear camo
Knockin' out Uncle Tom's to ***** I be the true culo
By nature hate fakers
and ******* who ain't nothing but **** shakers
Picture takers flashing ya death soon to see the undertaker
Now ya back to creator
Lyrics bashing ya puttin' fear in ya heart
None could part I'll gassed you like a ****
Body stinky rule the world like Brain and Pinky
The rights a genuis and left is insane
Comin' with divine bars that soak like polyurethane
Got the strength of ten Banes simple and plane
Get my flow through puffin' that spiritual cane
Angels knocked on the doors of my mental out pours
Nothing but bars from Galaxy afar
Look up see me naw
It's a bird a plane naw it's Yosef with words that gain
No losses boss of the bosses fools hangin' on rhymes
Like tree mosses
John Bartholomew Sep 2020
A number
Just too short for a double
Back on the wing at White Hart Lane
To sort out any imposing trouble
Lucky for some
Depending on what and why
The time for weekend breakfast
How'd you like your eggs, scrambled, poached or fried?
It doesnt just fit on anyones new shirt
A Welsh genuis on the ball, he'll leave you in a blizzard
All hale our returning son
Lets just say we have him home, our little pocket wizzard
Feeds the ball to Kane and Son
Every pass is on a plate
Takes the ball from the sky
Like a fish devouring it's bait
He runs like the wind passed attacking foe
Knowing he's got it nailed
For he is the one,
The only,
Yes,
He is,

Gareth Bale

#No.9

JJB

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