Best Concatenate Poems


Premium Member Moments In God's Cosmic Time

Moments in God’s Cosmic Time

A fleeting, finite time space one now may define;
A flash of seconds for poets to see and find rhyme.

Fashioning a human understanding of God’s Time,
Gives us a hint continuant, complex too—yet Divine!

Einstein’s E = mc2 gives us all a most gifted treasure,
With “c” as light’s constant nature for us to measure.

These moments can concatenate continuously as one,
Or may be revealed in time by mere eye-blinks for fun.

By teasing our thoughts, God infuses our spirits now bold,
With life’s knowledge over time, worth more than all gold! 

Being of God’s self-image defines who we each are in life;
It’s for each of us to master our destiny before earthly strife.  

Teasing our thoughts with heavenly images of eidetic clarity,
God speaks to us all subliminally over time—never as a rarity!

God's the only true divine mystic when it comes to Cosmic Time,
And the master for setting the Universe in perfect Cosmic Rhyme! 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
December 12, 2015 (Couplet)

Peaceful Bombs

Bombing for peace is like raping for virginity,
Repeated phrase gives peace unity.
Remind me God, where is the utility?
The love we give has no virginity.
Concatenate munition for factuality,
Its just complete, its all vitality.

The Truth of K-I-Smet

You don't have to acknowledge the construction company to realize its a very fine 
road.

Violence for change is the child of that it resists. As such it is destined to 
concatenate and beget the grandchild...a chain endlessly forged in fire.

Self--here lay the ingredient upon which the entire measure of a society is 
determined.

The door of a building is not an exit.
It is like a two headed coin.
One side is the entrance to the building.
The other side is the entrance to the world.

I do not want to own you.
I do not want to be owned.
I just want to know you,
and be a little known.

It does not help to focus on the length or difficut of a task.
It is far more productive to focus on getting it done.

The number of words is unimportant if they accomplish the goal of making the 
thought clear.

It is not the people at your feet holding you down.
It is the ones standing on your shoulders.

Ignorance is a comfort zone guarded zealously by denial of the truth.

When you tell a lie, whether it is believed or not, you have revealed two things 
about yourself.
One; you did something you believe was wrong, and two; you are a liar.

Do not live down to somebody else's expectation of you.
Live up to yours.


Quasi Mote - Oh Ephemeral Transit Across Proto Zones

Quasi Mote - Oh Ephemeral Transit Across Proto Zones!

Strictly speculation from this mind,
who contemplates stripped down version
bajillion eons ago
cosmic bit sized dots
pinwheeled thru spatial void

repulsed and/or attracted
colluding (putin on the Ritz)
infinitesimal show stopper
devoid of prior rehearsal
since previous cosmic contraction

absent remembrance
tabula rasa, viz consciousness
if rebooted, reincarnated,
repurposed, et cetera,
asper knowing nothing

perchance if previous rendition
courtesy big bang phenomena
commissioned swirling pretty
little invisible thangs
dust mote size

universe created, vis a vis
most violent explosion
blasting subatomic tidbits
bestowing, endowing, issuing, et cetera
propensity, allowing, 

enabling, and providing
spontaneous quixotic, narcotic,
and kinetic (kit) impulse
gifted, kindled plenti
tinder vittle loving care,

(albeit on quark hilly
weigh small scale),
each unique data packet of life
transiently questing organic matter
linkedin within uber 

webbed wide world
thrust by motive forces distilled
since primordial ooze
painstakingly agglomerated
electron's micro gravitational tug

incrementally configured 
viable combinations
propelled to fraternize, collide, amass
with other distinct minuscule entities
democratic, platonic, and symbiotic

tete a tete kickstarting avast
differentiation, golong 
engendering hulu costs indeed
pensively trumpeting, 
deploying, and fracking

the art of the Stormy Daniels deal
eventually across great swaths of time
inaugurating edifice of complex systems
(again unimaginatively teeny tiny
timid uber pinhead size zealots)

livingsocial hoity toity groupon outlook
accruing quicken fancy feast
to concatenate, generate, and get linkedin
with hotmail to discover
visa vis whatsapp
penning with Molly Q. Wells!

The End

Still smelling you all over my feeble, intoxicated, body,
Drowning my sorrows in deep, raging thoughts of you,
I hate you,
I love you,
I don’t know what to feel.
Sitting here, far from humble,
Humiliated and hurting; hunting down feasible, words to concatenate reasons as to why I never listen.
So do try dear heart; to find it in your deepest and loudest beat, to forgive me.
Forgive me for my ignorantly, impaired listening skills; prisoner to my own feelings I am,
But you too can be overly, dictating; the blame should be equally shared.
And do try dear mind; to find it in your deepest thoughts, to forgive me.
Forgive me for ignoring reality and forcefully painting pictures far from realistic.
I knew but I continued, i prolonged, I just had to further entangle,
Now I’m hurting; a state predominantly, anticipated by both parties.
Still smelling you all over my feeble, intoxicated, body,
Drowning my sorrows in deep raging thoughts of you,
I hate you,
I love you,
I don’t know what to feel,
But I do know that this is the end.

Confessions of a Stalker

From the time new born, sunlight bounces and plays, childishly on your beaming, chocolate flavored, skin,
To the time where the wind waits for you to pass, before blowing your designated, direction,
I watch you.
I do so vigilantly, so cautiously,
As the predator watches his pray,
And not a gawk less than the Shepherd does his flock.

Whenever i cast these longing eyes upon you,
I no longer see only you, except i am now showered by foreign, visions,
Visions of you and i, you and i hand in hand,
Nearing no foreseen end.
Shown to me by the ancestors of cupid,
Reassuringly, shown that you shall be mine,
After all the inevitable is forever undermined.

Before being blinded by that coco skin you wore,
A realization was born; you are my favorite everything.
Be it a thought, daydream or fantasy,
With all cliche-filled, honesty it is indeed true.
One provoking, thought forever clinging,
Evenhandedly clinging to the crests of my right brain,
"The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice"
Now it is safe to say, you are my ripened type. 

Sadly though, i still let you kick dust and pass me by,
While our scents waltz in the atmosphere,
Happy as they marry and amalgamate.
But cowardly i let myself let you pass me by,
A teeth-less lion, i am,
Satisfied just by feeding these eyes.

I am a man of no kind of weakness,
That i feel you need to know,
But right now my mind is foggy,
Too misty to concatenate sensible actions or words,
So pardon me for depriving you,
Depriving you of what your knowledge is entitled to,
But as soon as i gain reception upstairs, you'll be the first to know;
I am your number one stalkler,
A.K.A "your future".


Breath Gold

" BREATH GOLD " 

There  were  the  crests ,
There  were  the  troughs ,
With  every  breathe  that  grows .
Your  matter  as  attire ,
Concatenate  the  souls  on  fire .
For  now  and  forever .
To  just  breath  gold ,
And  let  hold . 

S•R•
@thatoneshe_

Premium Member The Buddha Meets Christmas

Down the fervent aeons Buddha’s sagesse,
casts its august shroud on benign witness,
shades, shadows, subtle symbol shift,
encompass cosmopolitan and temporal,
incongruous to flaccid predilection feigned,
astute statue of nuance and nicety,
crosses annual acme’s snowflake whirl,
Christmas that propitious seasonable fount, 
amid the merriment and jubilation stirred,
can wry dispensation be somehow drowned,
sculpted mould epitomising solemn pearls,
to counter spartan sparkle an uneven match,
for the blissful bubble oft recurrent judder,
though evaluation oscillates on this thorny subject,
palatial  gift as lavish token bountiful toward,
unswerving fellow  pilgrims of  our jagged journey,
despite the avalanche of advertiser’s counterfoil,
triumphant warm rush Burra Din advantage,
can engender migrating episodes deft mutual,
as the Buddha manifests a dovetail harmony,                
strained coexistence with December frolic
in the most enshrined  but unforeseen locations,
where Buddha influencer might drop wry hints,
juxtapose amidst jollied Christmas victuals,
where bear necessity bordering on martyrdom,
is gratuitously extolled in quaint quintessential quote,
that arrant caustic jibe at the apparently trivial,
the importance of recurring benchmark scope,
as that valid institution built on solid query,
might be seen as an awkward encroachment,
to the much pilloried fanfare of modern life,
changes are afoot when blind pursuit exhales,
has in zoom of instance been Buddha fostered,
if one probes forensically profound into the furore,
where future life burden is an exponential angst,
so abundant amid a sinister spiralling pessimism,
the seeds have been planted in a sprouting urn,
for above the shoulder carry torch consciousness,
a synchronous embryonic Buddha ethos at the core,
one is cognisant of this in zealous online sweeps,
where a budding spirit Christmas mosaic adjunct,                   
is a Buddhaesque nod on foot of wellness kinship
to concatenate shrouded inkling o’er enduring quest,
on the universal isthmus of humanity plagued by panacea,
one suspends as Buddha meets Christmas on a jubilant,
 December day exuding generous exchange across the globe,
it’s a down the centuries dilemma entangled in time,

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