Tag Archives: #poet

God is Static Thoughts

FOR the IQ below 110

  • Jew is not a race

for the IQ below 90

  • Jesus was a Jew

from the IQ below 70

Your mother
and father
are not blood related

UNLESS…

you are on this TIMELINE

then ALL ARE RELATED.

:: 11.30.2023 ::
(c) 2023-9999

Poet’s Notes:

As the writer of this poem, I approach “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS” with an appreciation for its brevity and its potential for profound insight.
Let’s analyze this poem:

Title: “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS”

The title immediately suggests a contemplation of divine or existential concepts, with “GOD” representing a transcendent force and “STATIC THOUGHTS” implying eternal or unchanging ideas. This sets the stage for a deep exploration of metaphysical themes.

Stanza 1: “for the IQs below 110 – Jew is not a race”

The poem begins with a provocative assertion, challenging conventional notions of identity. By tying intelligence levels to understanding, the poet highlights the complexities of categorization. The statement “Jew is not a race” challenges simplistic classifications and invites the reader to reconsider the multifaceted nature of cultural and religious identity.

Stanza 2: “for the IQ below 90 – Jesus was a Jew”

This stanza continues the exploration of identity and challenges preconceived notions. By affirming Jesus’ Jewish heritage, the poet prompts reflection on the interconnectedness of religious and cultural identities. The juxtaposition of intelligence levels with theological assertions invites the reader to consider the implications of knowledge and understanding on belief systems.

Stanza 3: “from the IQ below 70 – Your mother and father are not blood related”

Here, the poem takes a deeply personal turn, disrupting traditional notions of kinship and lineage. The assertion that one’s parents are not blood-related challenges biological determinism, suggesting a broader understanding of familial bonds and relationships.

Closing Lines: “UNLESS… you are on this TIMELINE / then ALL ARE RELATED.”

The final lines serve as a profound conclusion, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all existence. The word “UNLESS” suggests a conditionality or exception, highlighting the unique circumstances of individual existence. By invoking the concept of “TIMELINE,” the poet underscores the temporal context of human experience, while the assertion that “ALL ARE RELATED” speaks to a fundamental unity that transcends conventional boundaries of identity and understanding.

Overall, “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS” offers a thought-provoking exploration of identity, intellect, and interconnectedness. As the poet who wrote this prose, I admire the poem’s ability to provoke deep reflection on existential themes and challenge the reader to consider the complexities of human experience.


Breath of Life Back Into Eternal Love

At last, there is no help! Therefore, allow a kiss then we part.
Exhausted I am through; love, you shall not hear more a sound.

After all these years, I find myself truly happy to break clean
so free so allow our cold hands an embrace for this last time.

And with great might we should forget our vows.

Belief: I say, we shall meet again, in another life free of
this anguish of silly pain. There will not be a trace to show
that we held onto love of old.

Now, then, and again. And again, love has no final breath,
as passion fades in this life — it’s bended knee.
Innocence closes the eyes of the dead.

Now, as we wish. So many others giving up.

But we shall still breathe life back into Eternal Love.

:: 05.07.2024 ::


Strange Mistral Wind

It sounds so strange ~~~

.. your heart, bruised like a peach

is ripe as your body for sophisticated love

as a restless sailor waiting

i closed my eyes said the breathing

words of moving seas

she makes my sails fill

And within my Soul it seemed strange

mistral wind

Oh! Of laughter, at what ceases to amuse.

And last, the body and soul begins to
fall asunder.

Watching all you have done, and been…

:: 04.20.2024 ::


Insane Poetry Running Away

Gathered among lovely nymphs, whose grace shines brightly like eternal stars,
Their vibrant essence lingers, embracing radiantly,
In the dream-laden air, does my love pursue only a fleeting vision?
My uncertainty, an ancient veil of darkness, now reaches its peak.
In the quiet branches that linger faithfully, in enduring woods,
Alas, I too have presented myself as a false and grand ideal.
Should we then speak of these maidens whom you hold in sight,
Do they mirror the deep desires that haunt your senses’ flight?
One, a deceptive illusion of purity, cold and chaste like tears,
Yet the other, full of sighs and warmth, a stark contrast to the world?
No! Through lazy reveries, stifling the gentle rise of morning,
No waters flow, except those that my flute’s soft murmur conjures.
To the grove, with melodies sprinkled like a gentle rain,
Where my twin pipes play swiftly, untouched by the limits of the horizon.
Oh shores of Sicily, in tranquil marshes I am lost,
Vanity contends with the brilliance of the sun, at such a cost.
Silent beneath shimmering blooms, let me thus narrate,
Of reeds I cut and tamed, when behold! From a distant vineyard’s gate,
A creature as pure as snow descends upon the verdant glow,
A prelude soft as pipes, like swans in flight bestow.
All inert things burn in this warm, languid hour,
Unaware of how they fled the captivating power of desire.
Now awake, primal urge, beneath the ancient flood’s embrace,
Lily! Your innocence in your gaze, true amidst the grand pace.
But beyond this sweet nothingness, beneath their brief kiss,
My heart, untouched by proof, reveals a profound mystery.
Let it be! For in the reeds we play, under the azure sky,
Turning cheeks to tremble, dreams take flight.
To amuse the beauty around, with notes that weave and sway,
Between the dream and song, love’s whispers softly play.
Oh Syrinx, by the lake where you await, blossom anew!
Proud of murmurs that speak of goddesses, in a reverent hue.
Unleash the waists of shadows, in my tales they live and breathe,
As I imbibe the brightness of the grape, dispelling sorrow.
Laughing, I raise the emptied glass beneath the summer sky,
Breathing into luminous skins, yearning until evening nears.
Oh nymphs, let us rise again, with joyful memories,
My eyes piercing through reeds, striking each immortal form I see,
Submerged in waters under the forest’s tumultuous sky,
With cries of anger and splendor, swiftly passing by.
Glorious strands of hair slipping, adorned with jewels of the brightest hues,
I hasten forth, to this bank of roses in the gentle sunlight.
All fragrances wasted, as our revelry dissipates in the shade,
Where our merriment should linger, like a day long past.
I adore you, wrathful virgins, delicate and shy,
The secret fears of flesh, from heartless foot to timid thigh.
Happy to conquer these fears, my crime is but to partake
In the gods’ mingled kisses, a passion from within.
As I conceal a laugh within one, the other burns brightly,
Yet this quarry forever flees, showing no pity in its flight.
No matter! Others lead me to joy, with tangled locks,
And ripe pomegranates buzzing with bees’ sounds.
At this hour, amid gold and ashes, the forest stirs,
A banquet amid extinguished leaves.
On Etna’s slopes, where Venus walks with effortless grace,
Sad slumber rumbles where the flames leave their trace.
I hold the queen, in an embrace of certain punishment,
No words, as my soul and heavy body yield to silence’s embrace.
Forgetting blasphemy, I surrender to noon’s proud silence,
Lying on the thirsty sand, embracing the true rush of wine.
Farewell to both of you: I depart to witness the shadows you’ve become.

:: 04.20.2024 ::


My Love Swears Truth

Good afternoon. If even in prayer
By evening as a pauper in a chair

i have spent my life in explaining
these thousands dreams where most
are swallowing these dreams i never
ignored. And now there is one patch
of flowers explaining me.

From a golden rim step among vocal chords
pink and velvets, as gray gauzes,
and crystal disks of folly & disease
We believe and see digitalis wounds
with their centuries of no talent!

And Swearing my love, made of love
that maybe she lies — that she may
think I am unthinking /unlearned in
a world of falshitiest — on both
sides \ that she knows my days are
best undoing her tongue that she is
not unjust | Oh! best is love untold
and between us we are all undo
suppressed : by love’s inhabited
by lies we flatter be.

In spite of hate and love
In realization I am the one
lost in this cage____
the only one \now weeping/
Christ.

:: 04.08.2024 ::


Lost Love

Lost, oh love lost
but someday
I will be there

Now, oh now love
within a sunrise
I am here now

bathed golden hues
embraced within dawn’s
gentle grace
where every heartbeat
finds solace
and every sigh
whispers our tale

In the silent symphony
of morning
our souls entwine,
boundless and free
here, where time stands still
love blooms eternally

Through a labyrinth
of moments past
we’ve journeyed,
hand in hand
and now, the break of day
love reigns, steadfast and grand

So fear not shadows of yesteryears
for in this dawn’s embrace
our love finds its home
and in each other, we find our place

:: 04.02.2024 ::


Mistral Blows Pain Away

Upon the stagnant sea, I stood sentinel,
My vessel inert, awaiting destiny’s nudge.

Atop that mirror of heaven, I reclined,
Restless, a sailor longing.

I shut my lids, invoking
Incantations for the gentle breath

That animates the briny deep,
To swell my sails.

Whispers in the waves obscure the glass,
Awakening me, like a lover’s murmur.

It enveloped me, whispering sweetly,
Roll over, roll over, roll over.

And in my ear, it murmured its name,
A strange melody, yet clear as day:

Mistral, mistral wind.

Though I’ve long gripped the helm, I surrender
To the wind’s pilfering of my dominion,

Spinning me, losing my bearing,
Nights fleeting like fleeting thoughts.

Yet it guides me,
To towering summits,

Too grand to be real.
Mistral, mistral wind.

Each hour spent in vigil,
I await that breeze to stir me,

And transport me back to that realm,
Magic coursing through my veins.

And I sigh your name,
Across the boundless expanse.

You’ve turned me into a mad dreamer,
Mistral, mistral, mistral, mistral,
Mistral, mistral.

:: 03.30.2024 ::


Lovely Animals

Whiskers twitching
soft paws padding
through moonlit night,
the cat prowls,
silent sentinel
of the shadowed garden.

Beneath the canopy
of emerald leaves,
a symphony of chirps
and rustling whispers
fills the air,
as creatures big and small
find solace
in the tranquil embrace
of the forest’s heart.

Butterflies dance
in a kaleidoscope of hues,
their delicate wings
brushing against
the fragrant blossoms
of wildflowers.

And high above,
against a canvas of sky,
majestic wings
spanning wide,
the eagle soars,
a regal master
of the boundless expanse
of heaven’s domain.

Oh, to be
amongst creatures
of this wondrous earth,
to share in their secrets
and stories untold,
to revel
in the beauty
of their untamed souls!

:: 03.25.2024 ::


Beautiful Words From Her Grave

From the quiet depths of my repose,
I rise, a specter of verse and woe,
To lend my voice to this poetic fray,
In my voice and guise, I’ll have my say.

As Emily.

Upon the stair’s highest brink I’ll stand,
Gazing upon a garden’s urn in hand.
Let sunlight thread through each solitary hair,
In quiet contemplation, I’ll ponder there.

To wish a swift departure, ah, how vain!
Or for her heart to linger, steeped in pain.
Yet such is life’s ephemeral dance,
Each soul must part from its mortal trance.

In search of paths both light and fleet,
Where heart and mind in union meet,
A quest as fragile as a smile’s brief grace,
Or a gentle touch, a warm embrace.

As autumn’s breath whispers its refrain,
In my mind’s eye, I’ll call forth the pain.
My arms laden with blossoms fair,
A vision lost to the autumn air.

Oh, the musings that linger and roam,
In midnight’s silence, in noon’s bright dome.
Emily Dickinson, through endless throes,
In verse, in spirit, I’ll forever compose.

:: 03.17.2024 ::


A Velvet Night

whispering winds dance with trees
in the forest’s silent symphony
a symphony of rustling leaves
as nature sings its melody

moonbeams weave through night’s embrace
painting dreams in silver lace
a tapestry of shimmering light
guiding souls through the velvet night

stars wink in the vast expanse
whispering secrets in cosmic dance
a celestial ballet, infinite and free
where magic lives eternally_____
.

:: 03.07.2024 ::