Best Schemata Poems
Where are your words?
Who wants to know?
What should you be saying that you have forgotten to say?
What should you be saying to yourself? To revitalize yourself?
Self-deprecation does not work in your schemata.
Anxiety and fear are not your go-to places.
I consciously banish the feelings of the last three weeks.
Realizing they were induced by drugs, not reality.
Can I get back? Can I retain my enthusiasm? Can I get past this apathy?
My acceptance of my former self into my reality is all I need.
I read my words and recognize the positivity in them.
Remembering these are my words.
Not anything else’s, determined to
bring myself back
one
word
at
a
time ...
Categories:
schemata, self,
Form:
Free verse
We see things as we are
Not as other people or things are
We see things according to
Our prejudices
Our assumptions
Our ideas
Our background
Our experiences
How else could we possibly see them?
The only schemata we have is based on our life.
Categories:
schemata, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
young of course
but strong
homeless sometimes
resilient always
she came to us on a Tuesday
walked up the hill carrying an old suitcase
full of her plays and poems
her ideas were magical.
they came at all kinds of times
while she was sleeping, vacuuming,
taking care of the children.
She was the most prolific writer
we had ever never known.
You could not get close to her
for her mystical ideas were foreign
and did not it into other’s schemata
but that did not prevent us from
being captivated or from loving her.
Categories:
schemata, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
She floated into my dreams that day,
Stealing my wealth,
Shaking my roots, ignoring my prior convictions.
She had a different opinion,
Determined to shake me and shine me.
I was a boot, tossed around on the bed,
Tucked under,
Thrown into a wall,
Tried and discarded.
She floated into my dreams that day
And took over my schemata,
Obliterating it,
Crucifying my former beliefs,
Throwing them into the closet of lost things,
I dared not retrieve them,
Getting used to my new stance
As a boot,
Changing myself completely,
A new shoe,
Not fitting on the old feet,
But converting myself to a new glorious foundation
Of spiritual truth,
A changeling, forever, and completely.
Categories:
schemata, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Blank verse
All Chevy drivers are dangerous; they cannot drive.
I search for a few minutes, finding the Chevy emblem.
Watch stealthily, sure enough he cuts in front of me.
Proving my theory.
Now I change my truth to all Missouri drivers are crazy.
I watch one do a crazy U-turn and add it to my schemata.
Drive a few more minutes. Decide all black cars have unfriendly drivers.
Must change this theory when I remember I am driving a black car.
Listen the radio a few minutes. Here an old person on there complaining.
Grouch. Grouch. Grouch. Gripe. Gripe. Grouch. Grouch. Grouch.
She has some kind of a weird accent.
My truth is now all people with accents are complainers.
My schemata is adding ideas all the time, sometimes adjusting.
A car cuts in front of me, almost causing me to wreck.@#%&*@#$#@@#$$%%
That must be a Chevy driver.
I race after him, honking and giving him the finger.
He looks back and returns the favor.
His car is a Ford.
Oh.
I slow down, drop back. Ford drivers are okay.
This must have been a one-time accident.
Meanwhile he has added this truth to his truth box.
Old ladies wearing red Kansas City Chiefs shirts are crazy.
Categories:
schemata, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
These are not greater than us.
These are not indestructible.
These are not absolute.
We are laws unto ourselves,
our own direction; our own discretion,
and we govern here.
Yet we abdicate,
allowing what is ruinous;
encouraging what is destructive,
and this is our preference.
Overthrown by our schemata
we coexist with our hostages,
imprisoned by these;
surrendering to them.
And there is comfort here.
It's familiar; it's what we know.
There's no need to adapt
because there is no change.
And though we have thoughts of more,
we know these are only thoughts,
because we cringe at the necessary depth
of the place we must begin
to achieve the extraordinary.
So here we are creating laws,
consulting our conditioning,
intimidated by it;
blaming it.
We are our own jury,
our own disruption; our own destruction,
and we are helpless.
We are victims of our own undoing
because this is what we choose.
Categories:
schemata, introspection
Form:
Didactic
I Slept with a Female Mosquito – part IV
I have gone gnats!
My residual blood is boiling and bubbling
Whole frame sweltering and shuddering
Discolored rage – lend me some wrath
Should I or should I not,
Read her the riot act?
Does she know me any well –
A P.S now; been senator
Been governor, been chief, been prompt
In every cabinet
A minister here, a commissioner there
A chairman here, a spokesman there
A director here, Acting vice president
Do you know the cost of my person?
To accost fester and feast!
Madam Ambassador, speak for your people
The swarm is listening, whiz
That’s the envoy’s mark, man
Unswerving agenda, schemata
Trade, communiqué, summit, matrimony, prospects
Bilateral rep, the diplomatic proxy
Speak for them, gnat
State your mission, miss.
Categories:
schemata, politicalme,
Form:
Narrative
Organized collection of data
Splayed open in the meta
I played jokingly Alpha
It was a riot of type Beta
”... Time to test the schemata …”
Arc.of.tech.sure….
Painting a picture pure
Tables related undone
Mental re.codification.On
Reason clears the horizon
Sunrise surprise modification…
Interface driver recollection
Spectacular calculation
Stored and passing inspection
Lines designed for flexibility
Waves of water transparent…
Currents of Lito come urgent
”... learn it…” He said…
So Pablo started in Madrid…
Cubist stylist consisting of Time.
He was their favored Rhyme…
”... shields to test the mind…”
"A slow brush, penetrates the wind."
Categories:
schemata, art
Form:
she resigned herself to feeling morose macabre and melancholy
determined to be miserable, was our cousin, Miss Harriet Holly.
Focusing on wretched negativity, and all things bad.
Tossing good things out of her schemata said my friend Tad.
Determined to be solemn, depressed, angry, alone and sad.
It was a keen observation from the self-absorbed Tad.
Categories:
schemata, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
angel
glorious
spiritual self
helps only when summoned
angel
but ghost
creepily
contributes how?
reason is self-serving
ghost
soul self
part that lives
perpetual
guided by schemata
events
entity
perception
uniquely own
God gave us each a mind
to think
Categories:
schemata, perspective, self, spiritual,
Form:
Cinqku
in the realms of marine stardust
there still flicker deviant desires,
fanned flames that nothing can prevent,
lustrous ignitions devoid of hesitations;
bartering for the souls and shoes
of footloose heroines,
laddered of stocking and careless
of moral fibre;
ah, they were and shall always remain
teenage handmaidens who never addressed
nor paid faintest attention to
my secret sexual schemata.
Mermaids on salt streaked rocks,
seaweed strewn sands,
beached with slapping tails
and ringlet-framed smiles;
sipping cherry coke on the psychic coastlines
of my derelict and vandalised
sea front promenades.
Categories:
schemata, life, love,
Form:
Blank verse
The mad woman of Chi knew it all.
Her head made her exceedingly tall.
Her schemata was wide.
Held way down deep inside.
In an arrogant brain that was closed and small.
Categories:
schemata, 4th grade, 5th grade,
Form:
Limerick
Charisma wafts into my dreams
Teasing my wise brain dendrites
Showing them connections
to my pathway toward empathy.
Enthusiasm is squarely winning
Taking charge of my artistic muse
who is persuasive with other
areas of my mindful schemata
Childlike joy shows rapt interest
in the affection charisma is instilling
as I sleep, listening to the lively,
loving melody of the cosmos
Categories:
schemata, dream, sleep,
Form:
Free verse
Ragamuffin yanked the strands,
In free moves and active body acts,
Ajar and tattered,
Various colors spilled out,
He has been doing so in desperation,
Body cover was about gone,
More flesh glared out with each day,
Nobody instilled the sense to keep them intact,
There was in fact no necessity to do so,
Once absolutely worthless,
He could pick another mismatched pair just about anywhere,
Compare that with our sense,
Our schemata to acquire new,
As well as preserving old,
It is very different,
Is ragamuffin doing so because something about them,
He feels differently,
Or is the entire concept of clothing missing,
If it is then why,
He had a story to narrate,
As I heard him correlate,
I discovered life events do affect clothes,
Though in degrees,
And I wondered,
What will it take to get back,
The ragamuffin to normal clothes.
Categories:
schemata,
Form:
Free verse
It is difficult to believe others when they are saying something
that is beyond our comprehensive boundaries of truth.
It is hard to take them seriously when what they said they saw
or heard or felt is outside of our belief system.
We often do not believe in things outside our limited perimeters
even when we experience them ourselves.
Weirdly enough, sometimes we are able to convince ourselves
so well that what we saw or felt or observed was not real, so we
can retain our limited ideas about what can and will be.
So we keep this new knowledge hidden from our schemata, and
our conscious mind, which is a shame as it was sent by those who
thought we were wise enough to share.
Categories:
schemata, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse