Best Exponentially Poems
Myself I’ve never been much of a mathematician.
Algebra and stuff didn’t add up to much when I made the decision,
to respond to you, our multi-versed mathematical magician.
Because even I know all things aren’t always equal.
I don’t know what it’s like to grow up black and poor
and to wonder why other kids have more.
Or why no one looks sideways when white kids walk into a store.
It seems this world for you uses a subtraction and division equation.
Giving people who look like me a multiplication table.
We rise to the top like cream even when you’re more capable.
Those who say “Things have changed” are living in a fable.
Maybe they think it’s fine because they have lots on their table.
You have no reason to apologize, I see the sad in your eyes.
That happens when others try to bring you down to size.
But, I sense a power beyond the treatment they rationalize.
There is scripture flowing from your pen,
telling us what your people have dealt with over and over again.
You help me conceptualize that pain,
which enables me to see and realize,
why some might try to bury their blues with drugs and booze.
They think “Nothing is going to change”
They say “F it I’ve got nothing to loose!”
But you you’re a word warrior that’s not the path you choose.
Rewrite it, rethink it, turn it into good news.
Sorrows on a graph, death and molestations.
All these sadness quotients are not merely estimations.
They defy gravity and my limited calculations.
But I can’t read your sorrow without acknowledging
I see your situation.
I hear your brave heartfelt communication.
While still I wonder how you cope with this frustration
Maybe it’s the angels that grace your constellation.
The way you wrote it and I read it
If I were your teacher I’d give you all the credit
Besides in this case you’re the teacher
I say hallelujah brother your life is a prayer.
Keep on speaking preacher.
So I ask what can a math challenged
middle aged white dude do?
People need compassion for what they’ve been through
A thought can grow exponentially beyond me and you,
until it becomes true.
Action Maximization by the many for the few.
Poem by Richard Lamoureux
Dedicated to Michael Ellis.
It's not hard to see or tell this world of ours
Isn't the same as it used to be. Granted, it has
Never been perfect, but I've seen better days
I've become numb to a cavalcade of bad news
That saturate the television, social media
The radio, the newspapers.
I see our world changing with my own eyes
Every day, and not for the better. Sometimes I feel
As if I'm dreaming, but it's not a dream. It's reality
It's like I went to sleep one fine day, and woke up
To a world gone mad. A world, like crumbs
Falling off bread being sliced
What happened to the state of civility? What happened
To the nature of our social fabric? What is happening
To our country?
I'm so sick of Liar-In-Chief Donald Trump spewing
Hundreds of lies every day, further breaking
His unbreakable record of falsehoods. But why stop there?
Since his presidency, racism, xenophobia
Fear-mongering, corruption, foreign and domestic
Terrorism all surged exponentially
Under his watch, police brutality is at an all-time high
What is the world coming to when our "President"
Sides with foreign cold-blooded dictators
Over America's intelligence agencies?
What is wrong with that picture? This nation, this world
We're living in just isn't the same as it used to be
More and more African-Americans are ending up
Dead at the hands of trigger-happy police officers
More and more celebrities are falling from grace
Many emerging as sexual predators since
The inception of the "MeToo Movement"
Oh, and let's not forget about the Catholic priests!
The never-ending wars in Iraq and Afghanistan
Continue to claim the lives of American soldiers
Needlessly. When will our heroes finally come home?
What happened to the political climate?
It has grown so toxic. Washington politicians
Are failing to do the job the American people
Elected them to do.
The GOP has become the party of Trump
A so-called leader who stays up all night
Tweeting more nonsensical lies, who continually fan
The flames of division, continually assault
Freedom of the press, calling a legitimate investigation
Of Russia's meddling in America's election process
A "Hoax" and "Witch Hunt." But we all know better, don't we?
I wish I could go back to sleep and wake up
To the way the world used to be...
Poem Of The Day on 12/03/2018
In grandeur, a leaf of grass is no less high
Than all the glittering stars in the sky
There is beauty alike in weed and reed
When each fulfills Nature’s need
The low and the high thus in equal glory stay
When their respective roles they fairly play
When perception turns to levels transcendental
Everything will appear exponentially beautiful!
Poetry Marathon Mile.3.Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Mark Tony
(Placed First in
A Strand(1048) Poetry Contest)
“Met-a-Four”
I “met a four”
when I was three
and oh the things
it did to me
and fingers counting
one-two- three.
When the four
brought in a five
all my counting fingers
came alive.
Reaching for the
other hand
said “times two”
is oh so grand.
They ran through
six, then seven – eight
danced with the nine
to celebrate.
Then the quantum leap
to ten
and shouts of
let’s do it again.
Somehow the
ones and two and threes
increase in size
exponentially.
Still, my fingers are
mathematically smitten
seeking warmth
within a mitten.
John G. Lawless
12/4/2014
if he were to write me a love poem, would it breathe
like the quintessence of begin? would it live
as the moon to the sea – as precise as the art
of expanse along kismets journey, and all horizons linear?
would it wind-wash and rush my untouched
expanse, as a field soft and wild, exhaling through hair?
would you hear all of my hurt as it crashes to floors; crashing
through my glass floors, formed by years of perfected neglect;
(reverberating through centuries of cause and effect)
or would it die in my hands;
turn to dust
at your
feet?
no.
to read his undying words, such as my deepest imaginings
can conjure, would be as if the very sun had come to rest beneath
my bosom, shining exponentially forth every wish and dream i have
ever harbored within the safe haven of my yearnings, since long
before the birth of time itself!
o’, words given from the depths of my hearts deliberate daydreams,
from the vastness of your perpetual being,
would surely render my mind useless, striking my fluttering
body numb, and alive all at once!
if my love ever wrote me a love poem, i would answer
by way of warm lips on eyelids, (weary from longing
and unrequited need) gliding them
down his fair face, kissing years of spent tears into the oblivion that is
no more (the culmination of death and the sweet realization
of answered prayers), and yet
i would no sooner ask him to write me a love poem, then I would
expose my longing to receive one.
There bloomed a field of flowers wild
across a meadow bare
fallen seeds from ravens beak
there traveled free of fare
Heavens tears washed their bed
then covered a blanket spun of sun
giving life to such fragile flowers
yet to life the winters come
Thin and sheer those sheets like glass
a pretentious lens on the past
much like innocence and a human soul
like ice they crack and adapt
Seasons ever change
and beauty washes away
Tis the artistry within the wild
the knowing it will never be the same
Oh yes, one day, they'll live again
they will seem even stronger than before
finding their moments bathed in tears
but their days in the sun no guarantor
Cruel winters shall never cease to come
vanishing colors first vibrant
just like the soul exponentially broken
ebbs it's passion and soon becomes silent
One must color the path they see
one must see the hues of their dreams
for the fare is no longer free of charge
nor the number of seasons we'll see
Where Love Has Never Gone Before
...the legacy of a poet...
A man is not a man until his love becomes idolatrously immense
Since time began, his love eagerly evolved with his ideal intense
Now in suspended animation, his love spirally stagers in suspense
Within his venal violation, the Angels will deliberate in his defense
I, a simple poetic voice, shall take love thru the divergence of mind
Upon its choice, the viral verses shall reach the calamitous confined
Be love a black hole, or be it a quintessent quasar an astral aligned
Take a journey of soul, as love elaborates the embryonal of remind
Welcome to love’s eternal eclipse, where reflections of reality reminisce
Realms of refractiles in bliss as the Supernovae combust in a chaotic kiss
Words of love through dimensional drift of hellion holes and heavens lift
Descending with love in a demons shift ascending admits a seraph’s swift
Phasing thru portals of terrestrial time, beams of light of maximum prime
Exploiting love, a new paradigm, celestial symphonies’ in chambers chime
As love exponentially expands, touching multi-verses and lachrymal lands
Within the frozen fires, it withstands, landing upon seraphical sacred sands
The voices of love must be heard, of heavens and hells the winding word
Be it in the solitudes forever blurred, or melodic musicals of the songbird
For now, it silently sails in morning view, nestled of night by natures crew
Thus it is time to bid adieu, by the one word that has brought me to you.
June.20.2018
My Muse, Mortal
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden
You cannot take from me
that which I have yet to discover
Although I walk upon a crumbling wall
it is you who fortified my ignorance
Witness my strength grow exponentially
as I venture further beyond your reach
All that you are has become tedious
I have discovered my own significance
My indifference somehow diminishes you
and your response is less than dignified
December 12, 2016
For Laura Loo's Quote II contest.
Life may not be fair,
But we can still choose to treat each other fairly,
Love each other dearly,
And perform acts that are kindly.
If we do these things blindly,
Things will automatically,
Improve exponentially.
I see the colors of God
in the blue of sky, in
the glorious sunsets--
His passion on brilliant
display—I see His gold
in the swaying wheat
and in the blossoming
glens, ripe with wings and
musical droning...
I see His constantly
changing shapes, my eyes a
pallet and canvas of restless
tinctures and swirling hues—
life is avionics!
(acrobats us all!)--our
hearts most comfortable
with wings and flights,
magic vistas that dazzle
both mind and spirit,
the highs we inhale
and the mists
we trustingly explore—
we are dreamers…
I see God sleeping
and awakening...
in peaks and valleys of
dark, enchanting depths;
I see God in the vast cosmos--
hear His call, and hark-in to
his wonder and power.
I see
God through His eyes that
He gave me—my love personified
with each new one of His
ever brighter
newly arousing dawns.
I see God, and with each
revelation...love and
adore Him exponentially
more, despite His often
fickle-man….
The Walking Dead, the zombie apocalypse,
is a mirror image of social collapse.
Eliminate the zombies from the series,
but give that abhorrent human behaviour that follows a very deep study,
because when the dollar crashes, and it will inevitably,
the very same abhorrent human behaviour will spread globally exponentially.
Only light can penetrate the
darkness
that resides in the default state
of mind
I descend from beta to delta
through
binaural beats; instantly caught
between frequencies beyond
time
I absorb amplitudes of acoustic
energy
and I learn to just be earth
Since I am the earth
and because I am of
the one that is the source of its
existence,
I've owned the power of
omnificence
I realize now that I AM because
HE is since I am from that, a
descendant
Created in the image of a
thought
and a feeling from the
Universal Mind
I tune in to this vibration from
rhythmic
pulse that manipulates
subconscious minds
Immersed between 4 and 7
hertz;
brainwaves halt to a conscious
sleep
All chakras are aligned shining
crown energy
and now my consciousness
begins to reap!
and light begins to penetrate
the harmonious beams
that were already there
constant and always there
is now flooded with sound
patterns
that force brainwaves to submit
to power
of omnipresent sound that
always was
and always will be connected to
the Source from which I came
so I extend exponentially
beyond;
physical time and space
I long to embrace the intensity
of gamma rays
I give way to the coded sounds
that resonate from the inner
core
and continue to connect
through the binaural beats that
-
remind me of before
Always familiar but ignored
until found by gaining
knowledge of self
I listen with the intent to excel
while reaping an abundance of
benefits and rewards
Listen!!
It's already yours
Just reach out and grab it
as long as intention and ego is
checked
the universe will correspond
accordingly
it will deliver a life to you divine
and orderly
Just listen to the sounds that
were there from before
They will guide to to the
vibration from the core
and it will guide you to connect
directly with the source
Nothing is running on time anymore,
everything seems to be leaving late
And arriving even later too
What’s wrong with the grandfather clock,
working quirky is the quartz LED watch
Digital punctuality is ten nanoseconds off ...
losing time at this rate just make time slavers scoff
Now that slight difference might not bother them much,
but your computer
is having an electrical hard time trying to adjust
And this little misfire gets exponentially wider
with each step you take on the spiral staircase of
Time
is running late
And the alarm clock didn’t go off in my
Mind
Dead sleep is a retrograde time buyer,
as the rift in reality gets exponentially wider
But the evil time slavers just continue to scoff
And as the hourglass of time keeps losing sand,
this is the tick-tock countdown of what’s happening:
Repentance is a reverse time-share buyer,
as the road to damnation keeps getting exponentially wider
You better start checking the Doomsday clock
because it seems like its ...
Ten nanoseconds off
becoming nine minutes lost
becomes eight days of imprecision
becomes seven weeks of empirical oblivion
Turning into six months of solar ecliptic irregularity
turns into five years of where did the time flee?
turning into four decades of wilderness wandering
turns into three centuries of time-tripping slavery
Ending with two thousand years of sin freeing Christianity
Beginning with one twinkling eye blink to infinity
Nothing is running on time anymore,
we now have all eternity to explore
No need to worry ever again about being late,
the universe forever remains on the same cosmic calendar date
No worries ...
Time has been completely erased!
ATLAS SCRUBBED
Let’s all sit down and discuss this rationally
Since it is of import internationally
And hysteria will get us nowhere
So let’s get a few facts clear
First of all, from the first of us to the very last, we are quite frankly,
F*cking up
Wait………… before you fly off the candle
Allow me to defend and amend my statement
What I really meant to say was we are all f*cking up this atmosphere expediently
And exponentially
This is an emergency of preeminent planetary proportions
We are inventing diabolical devices that scar the flesh on the pride of Atlas
And hold our grandchildren hostage to a hoard of hedonistic heathens
Who mar the face of even Mars
As if f*cking up the earth forever isn’t near enough
Perhaps I’m not making myself clear enough
We don’t hold our environment dear enough
And flocks of flagrant fools don’t hear enough
As the magma is moaning
And the crust is turning to dust
Because countless millions of mindless men decline to design what they must know
For absolute sure………..
that there is an absolute cure
But men don't listen and will come to rue what must eventually come to pass
Because their all f*cking this f*cking planet straight up the f*cking ass
© 2012…PHREEPOETREE..~free cee!~
My dearest Cordelia: I scribe this letter now to you from domestic port, the embrace of our farewell still entrenched deeply in my mind. The morn is now upon the tranquil bay and the fishing trawlers have left their docks and marinas to seek bounty of Neptune’s great waters. I can see their outlines before the brilliance of the young days sun some distance away. Its light reflects a white sheen off the oceans body with the appearance of alabaster mosaic pieces on liquid sapphire. The bustle of the coastal city is already in full steam and the crowds of people move through the streets and algid morning air like the current of a river, every man and woman a drop with its own destination.
All of these things commonly taken for granted or a brief inconvenience in the banalities of everyday life; all of these things I feel I will grow to appreciate exponentially in the coming months. It has been decided that our nation will go to war, this I am certain is not anew parcel of information to you as the papers, zeitgeist and the common declamation of all mouths has all been of patriotism and glory for our nation. But I remain silent amongst all this noise and distraction because the thoughts I host are not of glory or heroism but of you; and one question. How chilling is time to old men the pilot the helms of this world’s great nations that it could make the disposal of a generation of young men’s lives or the prevention of the efficacy of our love a simple edict on a paper?
But fear not Cordelia not for me or our love for even though I am soon to be cast into the battle between the two chimeras of this world’s mightiest nations. There is nothing that will stop me from reaching our nations shores once again and with you building the bower in which the family we have dreamed of will grow and blossom. When I have won the war with this perilous world and all its unfair edicts Cordelia I will have your hand.
Yours forever John