Best Reference Point Poems
Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)
A lavatory confinement
my$h!tdontstinkcomode.com
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If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so called kind has no class,
Fed by these political rejects, never elected for what was!
No matter,
They wipe their assets clean with our dreams
Forgetting to wipe their own toilet seats clean
Trying to make us feel dirtier than scat
Feeding off our paper when their toilet bowl water level is low
Toilet bowl PO-poes, wiping without dental floss
Missing everything in between reality
Trying to be kind, saying "One Day We'll Be Good Enough!"
Offering their Golden Plunger,
straight from the Home Depot shelves
No Thank You! My plunger a true gift from Mr. Wal-Mart himself
Next time you feel the need to offer a reference point
Please caption your name when you drop by,
Rinse thoroughly when speaking my name,
Then I will listen when you talk civilized
Correct my punctuations and spelling errors
The weakest trait you wear
You are no Prophet, just white tissue turning brown
Your Justification comes from old dry grapes falling from the vines
Ridicule will never give you the respect, for what you are!
We, the few poets from the hood,
overpower any change you offer Goodwill
Crumbling and flushing what does not meet your standards
Trying hard to force feed us soup, without giving us bibs
Thank you
Toilet Bowl Committee
For clogging up my drain with your bull$h!T
By: Keeping it Real (The Downtown Hood)
Date: 12-15-13
~*~
I remember the time-freezing moment
When Lieutenant Dan made his peace
And opened the dimension of gratitude
The audience experiencing the quickening
I myself have come full circle
And found a tranquil harmony
No longer griping about the government
The church, or scapegoats on TV
How immature for me to think
That fairness grows like a flower
Our souls MUST experience injustice
The reference point of abuse of power
Without a garden of universal cruelty
How could we ever understand love?
So with a heart of gratitude I give thanks
For the blossoming of this compelling bud
What's the espresso this evening, Rubicam?
My random access memory will light upon it
As I riffle the files of my brain.
Pulling out something fresh,
I burst out with words to cover the enigma.
Bones
Bones are the fare--
Stewed bones with marrow deep inside.
Cracking the bones of the chicken leg,
I find essence,
Everlasting purity so well stored and tucked away,
Like a savings account or DNA.
The vapor of mud rises fleet and narrow.
This is the conduit of the inner sanctum,
The railroad across Canada in the snow.
Red vertigo covers the wheels as they turn,
Rolling asunder like a sky.
We eat and gorge on the beauty of it--
The holy thing--
Sent all holy and shiny new.
We split the marrow with a scalpel,
All sharply tooled and honed.
The operation is a success at last--
Liberation is at hand surely.
The vice has fallen away,
And the orange center is revealed.
My word-center is on autopilot;
I am still, silent, patient.
Then the marrow grows overabundant,
Needing quick hands to capture the thief,
Lest escape be granted.
The expository hose is drawn up.
The bare leg is covered and modesty satisfied.
There is no canker in this truth,
Being pure to the core,
Pure as blood-marrow.
The stigma is gone out of it.
Holy is the anthem and the chorus
Sings a greeting to the little people
Who stand waiting in line.
They watch for some illumination
Of the dark letters written on their souls
Bandits would not deride them
in such an instance.
Horses in a fever will trample words,
But words re-form; they cannot die.
You who bear the mystery,
Who cannot die,
You have palpated my heart
And signified a vast reference point,
Pleading to me with a sad song.
My turbulence is all inside me,
A stormy affair,
Always sorting and reeling back with shock
As the ivy vine climbs the ancient wall.
If you had no device,
Would you not read more books?
The man dignified in the third person
Will ask the questions here, mind you.
Return to me again loon of the wide lake,
Loon hiding in the reeds.
Show me your face before you fly,
And sound your voice in the evening.
The river winds zigzagging through rainforest connected to its soul
On one side there are mountains that are with minerals like gold platinum and coal
On the other ocean to which the river will fall
By the curve of the river tree grows tall
It is tall, forked bifurcate and ramifying to the river owns its existence
Its leaves are emerald but look sapphire blue from the distance
It fallows the light of the sun with persistence
Its flowers show off their color and brilliance
Its subtle leaves move with gentle warm breeze
The nectar for honey from the flowers is collected by bees
The river often expands beyond its boundaries
The spirit of rainforest leaves in each of those trees
The cells of the tree are transformed and magnified
Into forms more bizarre then by red rain are supplied
When to them power of Great Eye is applied
The birth of divine by the angles is espied
The fields beyond abstract conjoined with multitude of essences of the soul
Is great power but eye is beyond it with no reference point to it at all
But even that is just basic description of sublime majesty that eye would install
For the true secrets of the eye are unknown to all but its own soul
The ultimate consciousness is strong at the base
But what is beyond it in celestial place
Like a beacon for souls in space
Like of divine it is the face
Blue and silver yet never melancholic but vibrant and alive
Towards perfection it does not need to strive
It has incredible power and drive
The kaleidoscopic beauty of colors of the soul will arrive
Words I cannot lace to make it plain
But the wonder of Milky Way is insane
It is not easy to explain
But it is like snow of million colors crystals that million hues and forms retain
It is definition of unknown without reference point
It is maximal from most profound nonlinear word’s view point
It is by divine anoint
It is what soul wills appoint
Like a thousand trumpets it plays its tune
Discharge of electricity weaves very time this afternoon
It is the depth of unknown itself mesmerizing power of spiritual typhoon
You will see it not on dark but the other side of the moon
All it is a giant tree
But it brims with beauty
And majesty
It is truly awe inspiring thing to see
In ancient Britain they believed heaven is down not up in the sky
Sequoia is tall enough to reach the sky
Where birds will fly
But its roots deep in earth will lie
It is like the gateway between earth and heaven
Or between one and another heaven
Sequoia that is seed today may live until Armageddon
Growing for thousands of years from season to season
First fundamental place is life, death and afterlife when body died
Sequoia is not only very tall but very wide
With lots of rings hidden inside
As if in it many fundamental places one in each ring would hide
And because sequoia is so tall
It inspires the soul
Because it is the tallest tree and living organism of all
It reflects divine measurement continuality with no reference point at all
Komodo dragon has serrated teeth
And anything crocodile grabs in his jaws is dead meat
The flowers make nectar that is sweet
But everything that lives must eat
Nature can balance it all
But we believe in existence of soul
Is there more
Something beyond evolution’s control
That which truly might be bliss
It is evolution that needs no reference point through abyss
As intelligence from this point will grow
The great tree of life rises like spring flower from beneath the snow
let me live
don't burden me
with more than I can bear
don't coerce me
into believing things
from your reference point
I'm tired
let me live
these decisions weigh me down
the expenditure of thought
analytical thinking
that goes against the grain
of my compassionate heart
taxes me
it comes at a cost
I'm tired
let me live
my struggles with myself
are in and of themselves
hidden land mines
in the battlefield you call life
I'm maimed
walking wounded
looking for that fox hole
in someone's heart
where there's protection
from whizzing bullets of doubt
don't trouble me
with trivials
when I'm only on survival mode
let me live
when I'm of sound body and mind
come to me then
I'll have energy to spare
emotions to expend
and a clear functioning mind
then I can give ear to your grievance
and play arbiter
but not now
if you care
let me live
my life is ebbing
chronic emotional fatigue
alibied by my smile
please be kind
let me live
I only have
this one life
to
live.
let me live
Eileen Manassian
When wind blows through poplar tree
One can sense time in all its majesty
In all its glory
But also perhaps in all its possibility
Something evolving in bubble of no existence
With evolution not needing reference point in its existence
Could life form created in this form of existence
See end of time in all its existence
They say man fears time
And pyramids are the only thing feared by time
But are they really feared by time
After all is there really such thing as time
Time could be parallel to our vision of it
Every consciousness somewhere in time will fit
If one could see infinity or continuity past or future would it be it
Would this be beginning or end of time maybe but not as this person sees it
They would see
Next infinity
Next continuity
Next possibility
Pyramid its builders did not consider a tomb
More likely to them it was a womb
For soul it was a womb
Place where the spirit would bloom
How would this spirit see time?
Question hard to answer with a simple rhyme
Would it be something sublime?
Or emptiness lost to passage of that very time
Would this spirits destiny
To write the very laws of universe how they them see
That is what Egyptian beliefs would be
And those laws did not have to be based on previous ones probably
And if one of those laws would protein to time
What they could do would indeed be sublime
But would they answer philosophical questions even in time
Like meaning of life philosophies question so basic and prime
Speaking of philosophy
Intelligence no matter how high has its own philosophy
Everyone has some form of it even if each is different philosophy
So is there anything beyond philosophy
What magic would be required to go beyond philosophy?
If question of meaning of life is base of philosophy
But magic that is mathematical nirvana beyond philosophy
Would be powerful and this is the one spirit in my pyramid would see
This is the only way to set the spirit free
That is what my opinion would be
Not just to be able to write universes laws but see
Beyond any philosophy
That is what heaven would be
That is what Great Eye might see
From the pyramid spirit would be free
And united with soul of souls would be its destiny
Sea
Is full of majesty
Person picks up seashell from the sea
To listen to ballad of the sea
The duns are covered by sea holy
The seashell song is of destiny
It unveils the soul of the sea
And persons own soul aches listening to its beauty
Above the sea sunset seems to set heavens a blaze
The almost surreal abstract beauty of it will amaze
Yet very real is the visage beyond this misty haze
With violet orange and gold colors that spirit will daze
The seashell sings of various things
About albatross that spreads its huge wings
About hidden treasure of golden and diamond rings
And about glory of distant stars it sings
One of the ballads is of evolution and imagination that need no reference point
From any reference point
And ever growing temporal vortex of what is imagination from that high point
And how the soul to this sublime majesty is conjoint
The soul is like the seed that toward it yearns
The seashell is like a lens that shows its patterns
It guides the soul like on sea ships are guided by lanterns
And through the seashell of its existence the spirit learns
The sun illuminates the dune
By the sea lagoon
It reminds the person that to ballad of the shell is in tune
That what it sings about is far beyond the dark side of the moon
Beauty is evanescent
My eyes have seen
unspeakable,
incomprehensible
beauty.
I thought I knew
what beauty was
and then...
I met you!
Your apparition
left me astonished
entranced, tongue tied,
mesmerized...
My eyes
could never
be the same again...
how could they be...
as all the beauty
beforehand seen
now had a new
reference point...
and that was you!
Curiously though,
under more
careful observation
and scrutiny
over time
I noticed something
distinctive in you,
something inherently
significant.
I now realize
that my recently
redefined understanding
of what beauty is,
needs to be adjusted
to harmonize with
a far deeper
comprehension.
I've noticed that
your external beauty
is really an outward
physical reflection
of internal realities.
Your kindness
your innocence
is effervescent,
effusing and emanating
from deep within
your interior.
Leading me to conclude
that physical beauty
is evanescent
but kindness
and innocence
is ever present.
John Derek Hamilton
May 26,2016
Magic opens paradox of omnipotence and destiny
This is something of incredible beauty
If storm of points beyond destiny
Having no reference point to time would be
How far eye can see
As far as its biology
No, as far as spirit can see
At the base as far as not bound by time destiny
Beyond destiny
Would be beyond all life’s tree
The paradox is no longer paradox and one can see
Beyond counterbalance and through divine be send free
So how far would eye with spiritual lens could see
To it what time would be?
Human mind is not designed those things to see
But if man could not only see it but touch it what would he be
Would he turn evil or be
Being of divine mercy and majesty
What would no pun intended be his destiny
Would he be or would just like the rest of us only wish to be free
Time I’m talking about not time one can measure would be
But something purely abstract more so even than idea of destiny
But if this is the case what beyond abstract would be
But all of those are just stepping stones to me
The day comes to a close
Enchanting golden sunset appears above the lake
Peacefulness of the lake comes down the soul
Yet it is like an eye of the storm
Soon the silver blue countenance of the moon appears
As fishermen sail towards home
They feel uneasy
Like something is watching them from behind the rushes
Eerie haul transverses the calm night
Predator is on a prowl
The wolfs are fearsome bold and intelligent
Lords of the north
But closer to the equator
There is something much more sinister
In east Africa the predator is awe inspiring
And terrifying
You might think it’s a lion
With its glorious mane
But it’s what locals call mngwa
And it drives them insane
In mngwa’s eyes so deep
The very demon sleeps
It awakes at night
When village itself sleeps
It kills people and children
Putting dread in a soul
Its fearsome eyes
Are like two moons when there is no actual moon at all
Looking in them one has to contemplate
What possessed God in heaven?
To make a beast with such trait
That comes close to human villages lying in wait
That stalks the night
Especially when moon is not bright
That has no fear at all
To take down human soul
When one gazes upon the eyes
Into a demon that in them lies
Evolution depends on climate
Genetics, and pray from zebra to bird in the skies
But if you see mngwa it seems that God enjoyed
To make something straight from the void
Something little bit like us maybe that was his point
Something that spawned but needed no evolutionary reference point
But if something like that could exist
Ultimate consciousness can differ if different reference to it will exist
But if from something from void being the reference we insist
What kind of power the ultimate consciousness has if it does exist
Only time will tell
Whether at the end there is heaven or hell
I will not give the devil his do
Nor will I burn for you
The celestial mist enters the dream
In it destinies like dimensions will swim
All reference points are in abstract
The whole everything in it is intact
Infinity
Is not everything nor is continuity
There is always the unknown
From different reference point different infinity would be known
If non linear equations are part of consciousness
Only philosophical infinity is truly endless
That what celestial mist is to infinity
What I desire is to philosophical infinity
This is the depth greatest of all
That blooms in my soul
Spawning flower I give with whole grove
To the one I truly love
Everyone wishes to be
Free
But what does it mean to be
Free
Free from persecution by the unjust
To some it means to express one’s own lust
Free to decide one’s own destiny
That begs the question what is destiny
If ones defines destiny
Or being free
As having impact on events as they unfold
And way they can be controlled
You as individual are a droplet in sea
That stretches for at least infinity
But you have impact of what happens near and to you
At least this much seems to be true
But from what reference point does one measure destiny
The house, the country, continent, planet, galaxy
Not only can you go for infinity
It begs the question why must there be
Reference point to destiny
After all does not having any such point not means being free?
Something alive for eternity
Eternity not confused with infinity
Even something happening outside of continuity
Happening in presence of time would have to be
So if something would be alive for eternity
And in state that breaks second law of thermodynamics it would be
Would it be free?
I think I would like to be
In control of my destiny
Where reference point would be
To something but nothing in particular
That I would like to be my guiding star
But when I see loved one looking at me
I feel free