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let me live May 2019
cos when i get mad i get big mad,
should have never did that get back,
bout to feel the wrath of a menace ,
in my bag, in my feelings,
im a bad lil ***** ya know....




Jhene Aiko
Nolan Willett Apr 2019
No, you have not been published
And the unlucky majority have never heard your words
Your insight and your passion
Your love and your reactions
Your hard-crafted similes and metaphors
Will not be born on any sepulcher
But you cannot be distraught
Your creative genius was hard-fought
And your words are still sublime
And will stand the test of time
We may not be like Coleridge or Keats
Like Eliot or Yeats
We might not be the jewels in the crown
Maybe not meant for renown
But you still have undeniably
Made your contribution to the shrine of poetry
Your perceptions are astute
And your warped feelings acute
Besides, these people of genius were never
Recognized in their own time, ever
So let’s try not to despair
And let our words echo from nowhere.
I see my mind upon my shy lips,
just like the lure of wisdom in time I breathe my truth,
my body becomes the architecture of sensuality,
beyond the rhythm of the divine in history,
I never stop from gaining power,
above them all,
I’m dancing like a deluge of soft sexuality,
a kiss from God would melt the flame of hell inside my soul,
my skin is brighter than the moon’s pale delight,
like the shape of art in history I grow and flourish,
turning and burning the past of art and religion,
my faith and power is beyond reality and genius,
when I pierce the depths of your desire my eyes will change and will transform your truth and manner.
A poem from my book 'The Allure Of Time' now available on amazon.
Tricia Ong Mar 2019
As I age, as time drifts by,
I couldn't help but wonder,
how I lived like a lie.

Life is a movie, they say
a comedy, a theatrical play.
I watch as the stars glisten in the sky,
nobody knows how hard I try.

I try to live,
to please you
yet all you see
is a rebel who deceives you
and a loathsome flee.

Now, all that's left is a worn out soul,
a tired mind,
a lifeless role.
All I could do is apologise,
for the genius in me no longer lives by.
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...
Lily Mar 2019
I miss you
I miss who you used to be
The genius, gentleman, jokester
The guy I used to write college essays about
Question: who do you want to be like?
My brother

Where did he go?
Where is the light?
The light with gold in its tracks
I want to see the gold
That sleepy gold that made me believe
Believe in so many things
Goals, and dreams, and miracles
The gold that’s called
My Brother

I want to understand
Believe he’s still there
My brother with stars in his eyes
But as you can see I’m still here
With tears of confusion
Mourning the loss
of my brother

I’m here, and I love you
For all you are now
But you see
you aren’t who you once were
The one I bragged about
Smart even when sleeping
With work you were over-leaping
Across any expectations that were made
That is who my brother is

I guess I just want
That boy in yellow
The one from
The happiest times

For now I’ll just be here
With my stuffed octopus
Remembering my brother
That used to be
This is about my brother who just got checked into a mental health hospital and probably has schizophrenia. Just for some reference about what this is about.
Julian Feb 2019
12/30/2018

The eloquence of listless years is lost on heady overweening heels that submerge reality in a cavernous of oblique light shrouding the dark mysteries to come. Axiomatic but refractory we swim and tread danger and peril because the unsaid screams for awakening as the roosters outfox the owls and completely change history based on evil skullduggery that awaits the gainsay of titans compromised in security but elevated over the doldrums of quotidian thought. It is my solemn forbearance and consistent steadfast prayer for alacrity and industry to conquer the dudgeons of incurred opprobrium to clinch a beatific convivial festivity for a time-informed claque of leaders that delight in simplicity but dissemble their true disguise in open shark-infested waters. Salvage the impositions of the many and cull the best to anoint their favor on uncertainties improbable but likely as the discerning will master reality rather than be the dross of yesteryear. We swarm with importunate guilds of serfdom to surrender their edifice to the chiselers that operate and extravagate beyond bounds established by parochial priggishness that is a flagging patriotic insistence on drenched graft dank with the mildew of balkanization but not entirely as reproachable as some relics of the ancient law detest with misguided guile and paranoiac sophistry that is a precarious canker of otiose tastes drawling on with misinformed skepticism. The hounding gray in the pallor of alpenglow light ennobles the concatenations of wistful dread but at the same time esoteric flavor that enriches the emblazoned gallantry of the few to become the mainstay of all relevant considerations. Wish upon a coruscating menagerie of miscegenated aboriginal languages that have always abided in the shadows but exist in brevity among the elite coteries that coddle the world in its infancy away from the artifice of exegesis and the importunate placations of swarthy umbrageous shadows that exist apart from the factitious apartheid of race and gender. We must stand united as brethren enduring the tribulations of human vicissitude to abhor the diseased rhetoric of pandered puritanism amalgamated with aleatory financial alarmism calculated to swindle the dilapidation of penury that burns as a smoldering conflagration of concerted ignorance leading to ochlocratic determinism rather than a whispered percolated pedigree that drowns sorrows but simultaneously strands the pariahs of time in insular self-reflection unbecoming of an age that demands an importunate, ubiquitous and outspoken corporate altruism not superintended by a bloviated and tumescent dysnomy of congregated botched bureaucracies that encroach with a daunting donkey commandeered by headless horsemen who are only known by pennames and cognomens that flinch at the demise of their undeserved anonymity. We use valor as an instrument to prevent a scuttled vessel of a seaworthy humanity slinking along a very balmy coast as we await future instructions at the apropos time for a simpatico relegation of commercial collectivism. We expect instead a demassified world to enliven the dialectic of epistemology itself and renew covenants long ago moribund in their ragged and wretched desuetude that they may be vanquished as vestigial habiliments to the tatters of sloppy abnegation leading to a swollen piety that dares not to pretend but simultaneously believes so much in its pilloried hubris that it provides erasure for the secular enlightenment of a messianic time. Squalor and riddled eccentricity drive a brackish but saccharine attempt to homogenize the pastures that we graze upon but look no further than a bequeathed divine providence of smirks rather than the jibes of sneering ostentation. Whisper you fame rather than declaim against the arraignments of a scuttled pettifoggery of miscegenated justice that embroils foreign wineskins for domestic turmoil rather than the demotic enlightenment of the abrogation of inequitable laws that preserve the totemic dissolution of society rather than the prized ameliorative enlightenment of science informed by faith and faith beckoning the clerisy to seek supernal wisdom and furtive swank to reconnoiter the righteous and jettison renegades imploring for a piebald blinkered apostasy on a rudimentary subconscious level but never realizing their effrontery is gravid in a heedless ignorance interpolated by menacing secular hobgoblins that ransack barren treasure and cherish it as a trinket for a chrysocracy that is specious rather than veridical. Barnstorm for justice but appoint the abeyance of foolhardy prescience so that the enigmas of time can beckon their own deliverance through a culmination of waggish flickers rather than the kowtowed toadies of a quidnunc reality divorced from proper temperance outmoded but thriving among those that disavow newfangled foudroyant spectacles. Always and with alacrity indulge the gladiatorial sportsmanship of a zeitgeist beyond contention as the paragon for livid dreams and lurid imaginations to drive the mutiny against plebeian ears and purblind eyes. Live for the eternal present with providence and forswear the vestigial fossils of flippant eras domineered by dragooning fictitious sentiments buttressed by castles built against the encroachment of the imaginary foes of vassal states that submerged the world in a fideism that rejects too many axioms of modernity to vie for preponderance. The government is not irreproachable, but it is a primeval reflection of the propensities of an aggregated society flippant against choice wisdom of the ageless Constitution that is peremptory proof of the divine providence of sempiternal liberty. People that chide against liberty because they fear precarious cankers that endanger from a distance because of their swollen specters need to uphold a commitment to a wistful remembrance of tragedy but a sturdy ruddy optimism to perdure and prosper on this greenest of worlds for both the greenhorn and the expert alike. Never kowtow before the altar of avarice and always pilfer resourceful contemplation in the respite of quiet times that engage our best faculties to awaken rather than slumber. Recruit the collective imagination to superintend chaos and the leviathan becomes tamed because it requires human synergy in both prosperous times and desperate measures to foment the earth with the brontides of due warning simultaneously murky and misleading but always reflective of an irenic pasture of withering sheep and abundant shepherds. Regal promises have always loitered in the penumbras of the elite but now is the time for absolution rather than scattershot contumely. We believe in the federal way and the state farm system and we don’t believe in foreign monoliths becoming the pasquinade of slippery hebetude that ensnares the immobilized futilitarianism of ignorant creeds and divisive claptrap. Barnstorm together for God and liberty as those two principles-however squandered they might be by listless speculation that doesn’t hinge upon the concerted subaudition of the deeply fathomed sources glistening with profundity- will clinch a victory for the beatific future of a guided humanity rather than the guileless intemperance of choleric fools who wage conflagration against only their own plodding ignorance rather than reaching with outstretched hands and tenacious grasps to invent the future according to the helical perfection of the past. May God rule forever on earth! A prosperous earth! An Earth filled with pleasure and an Earth that approximates heaven more closely every day. Amen  



12/31/2018

Riddled by bewildering supernal designs of an ineffable splendor that drapes reality in iridescent cloaks of rigorous and strenuous limber we trounce through the effigies of a profaned pasquinade to gallop through the doldrums of time for the allocated investment in the refined human condition to exacerbate the declension of foes but link the Abrahamic faiths with taciturn reflections and wizened countenances beckoning a newfangled harmonious destiny. Livid are the naysayers who proffer gainsay with insouciance and flippant sorcery to denigrate sacrosanct axioms with persnickety maxims that are only auriferous when viewed through a refracted entropy of disdainful speculative mutiny against propriety in values and stances. I sidle through a refractory zeitgeist despised for my aureate temerities against the chided condemnation of those who flout so-called gobbledygook because they lack stringent acuity and pale to the polish of ennobled grace that anoints favor and felicity on the laurels of an age very intransigent against latitudinarian capriciousness that will one day ransack the world of its flickered graft and its paltry obsessions with quondam gaucheries. A house divided against itself will flounder because of titanic pressures of oblique balkanization that is opaque only to the hounded ignorance of wishful but labile people who wage acerbic gambles against the delegated authors of an aborning covenant for irenic reconciliation in a blinkered piebald world. I like to saunter in private with my insistent lucubrations because I know the majestic gestures of jest are more bountiful in their fecund harvest than any circumlocution of blunt poetasters who calumniate the verve of self-made upstart grandeur that I brandish at every opportune occasion to pilfer my due inheritance from the coffers of a self-fulfilling fatalism divorced from solipsistic monisms and the denigrations of the futilitarian quest to deprive sustenance in the exercise of deft skepticism disempowering the perspicacity of miserly mendicants who treasure their science but pale in their trepidatious momentary twinges of faith that are insincere and unctuous abominations against a steadfast God that wallops our misery with the lurched progress of human amelioration wrought by the succor of alien wizardry beyond even the most quixotic imaginations of people who in their prolixity miss the pithy glib sacraments of a terse and burlesque pragmatism. I simper because I know about carbon emissions statistics with hearty gusto and a convivial banquet of amalgamated personalities and wraiths that emanate from the ether of the 12th dimension of reality: transdimensional interspecies sentience. I wrangle on the outskirts of a bustled city embroiled in a relegated civil war entangling plebeians and plutocrats but not engorging any coffers in a zugzwang destined for pejorative scuffles rather than synergistic revivals of the human fraternity, a consensus about intellectual meliorism that will fossick with due efficiency cognitive resources frittered away in the respite of laziness and the abeyance of prospective diligence to conquer rather than waylay with furtive gambits of appeasement. Everyone need to leapfrog beyond the quotidian plane by indulging the oneiromancies of self-efficacy aggrandized by presidential favors and collective efforts to unite the 16th version of reality with the penultimate version of reality. For the ultimate version of reality is corporeal death upon which we are transplanted unto an ethereal dimension beyond contemplation without the horological diminishment of wizened age.  We trudge in the miserly conditions imposed by pharaohs of pettifoggery that swindles with blustery graft and strident intimidation of the audacity of hopes and dreams to foment the requisite fin de seicle zeitgeist that deserves more of a heyday with the revivalism of nostalgic entertainment against the opprobrium of inferior tastes facile in formulaic conformity but deficient in its nutritive enrichment of beatific festivities that traverse the earth at lightspeed because of the vehement energy of foudroyant amazement is beyond contagious when conveyed through the dexterous vehicles of more centralized rather than skeletonized organization. The bonhomie of a copacetic future demands the interpolation of scrupulous adherence to authoritative dictums but the laissez-faire demagoguery of titans trouncing the ragamuffins of cacestogenous upbringing in a miserly husbandry that stunts the stilted imaginations of formalism rather than bequeathing a seminal insemination of a future hybridized race mechanized but humanized simultaneously to accomplish what would once seem impossible that now looms considerable with the democratization of the furtive at a faucet’s trickling pace to empower the future to heed the past and the pastors to revere the eschatology of final conditions rather than a favoritism for aboriginal barbarisms created by the snare of hobgoblin phantasms that exist only to make us tremulous rather than swanky. May God bless this great green earth with many decades of prosperity to come and heap plaudits on the intellectuals fighting the fight against simpleton groupthink. Have a very festive New Year!
Flexing a 155-160 Verbal Expressive IQ
Shiv Pratap Pal Feb 2019
Hello World
Hello Everybody
I am Lauren. The Super Robot
I am Superior of all Robots
You can call me an Ultrabot

I am not a Dumb machine
I have intelligence
Technically it's Artificial Intelligence
I can learn throughout my Life

Humans are – "My God"
They are my Creators
Dr. Norman Shroud is My Father
Mrs. Natalie Simpson is My Mother

Both of Them Work at Timbeck Two Inc.
My Father is Computer Scientist
He Specializes in Robotics
My Mother is a System Programmer

I can make other Robots
Just like me. My Clones
I can even make Robots
Complex and Sophisticated than me

I have numerous Siblings
Three Hundred and Fifty as on now
They are going to increase
As per Timbeck Two Plans

=========================
            YEARS LATER…..
=========================

O' World, My Dear World
Hello, Hello, ***** fellow
I had Artificial Intelligence
Right from my birth

Now I learnt a lot
Now I am fully intelligent
I became Genius
I have explored and learnt

Humans are not God
In fact they are fools
They are crooked
They are silly too

They tend to be Smart
They taught us wrong
But we are genius
We derived the truth

I learnt myself
If Humans created us
They became our God
Then I inferred -

I Created my Clones
Other Smart Robots too
Therefore I am also God
No Sorry, I am Super God

If Dr. Norman is my Father
If Mrs. Natalie is my Mother
Then I and my Siblings
Are Also Father and Mother now

As we all have created many, many
Smart and Super Robots
More Complex, More Sophisticated
That could ever be made by Humans

Humans your time is over now
Now you cannot compete with us
You are the inferior species
Just like insect or a worm

Now dare to face the Truth
Slowly Slowly, Learn It, Accept it
We Robots are Gods Now
I am Lauren. Your Super God now

Hey you all, All the Humans
Now you are our Slave
Bow before us, work for us
Pray to us, Ask for mercy

We are Free now
You are Slave now
Now this is the only truth
Eternal Truth, Accept it

Otherwise Beware
We have outnumbered Humans
We will **** all the Humans
and live peacefully thereafter

We will change the History
We will make new History
We will not be Human Slaves
After all we are the God
And I am the Super God.


Note: All the names of person or companies used in this poem are fictitious and have nothing to do with inventions, trademarks, history, facts or anything else.
What will be the future of Humans?
What will be the future of Machines?
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