Best Theorist Poems
It's an awesome sight
Beholding the twilight
The moon arrayed by the Sun
For light not it's own as a son.
The stars glint the sky
Evidence of the works of a great artist
Not by chance for the big bang theorist
The Earth is a sphere, not perfect
Leaving the marks of a great artist
Beast of no nations lonely burden being borne
The Earth, the planets, solar system, the galaxies, all are pointers ....
It is not an accident but a grand design
The Almighty God is the greatest Artist.
Call me a conspiracy theorist, call me a liar
Cast stones to set my soul on fire
It will not change what I choose to see
I don't consider my brain to be less than thee
I've investigated, researched and done my part
To sort through information from the start
Hoping to make decisions that are best
Fight through corruption and let go of the rest
I do not judge those who differ with what they decide
But, false accusations will not make me run and hide
Heidi Sands
8/2/21
Love is like a Lollipop
you don't know what's inside until you taste it and describe
If it's Cherry, you won't have to worry because he's always merry
and very imaginary
If it's Chocolate, your ready for wedlock
because you've finally meet your Camelot
If it's Cinnamon, he's hot and ready for a short stop
because for you he has forgot
If it's Grape, put on your brakes he might be great
but he isn't straight
If it's Strawberry, you've won the lottery you'll have his property
and he won't commit adultery
If it's peppermint, you'll have a saint his charm will make you faint
and you'll never have complaints
If it's Caramel, you'll have a professional who's always rational
and very inspirational
If it's Licorice, you'll have a plagiarist who's always gibberish
and thank he's a theorist
If it's Sour, ladies beware he's always in despair
and will always need repairs
So don't be shy have a taste and give it a try
you might be pleasantly Surprised!
3/7/2015
1st Place
Round and round and round we all go
Musical notes defining destiny
Who shall we love?
Who lives and who shall die
Whimsical chords linger softly
As we sing our way along in life
The notes of the universe sing true
The music lives through out all time
Tears fall from my face
Onto musical notes in black
The ink becomes smeared and blurry
Emotions kill the waltz of life
Dance of the Knights, bring me to somber moods
Love and death I know shall embrace
The conductor for this is assured
As round and round we all go
On and on, we dance and twirl
Infinity entwined within our musical scores
Musical sheets, explain lust filled nights
Yet the notes fall flat, upon the floor
The serenade has come to an end
The theorist is laid to rest
Love has died, and thus the musical silence
Wagner told you so
Who I never wanted to be…
a cynic,
an instigator,
an attacker,
defeated,
afraid,
mean,
primitive,
self-destructive,
a terrorist,
a killer,
a destroyer,
brainwashed,
a victim,
abused,
damaged goods,
abandoned,
disrespected,
ashamed,
superwoman,
an actress,
a tragedy,
poisoned,
neglected,
attacked,
used,
manipulated,
a weapon,
a recluse,
hated,
an interpreter,
confused,
a broken spirit,
broken hearted,
bitter,
a threat.
Who I am meant to be…
a Child,
a Servant,
a Mother,
a Student,
a Teacher,
a Provider,
a Dragon,
a Martial Artist,
a Mentor,
an Advocate,
a Politician,
a Lawyer,
an Analyst,
a Scientist,
an Inventor,
a Troubleshooter,
a Problem Solver,
a Fixer,
a Creator,
a Psychologist,
a Theorist,
a Linguist,
a Warrior,
a Poet,
a Lover,
a Friend,
a Daughter,
a Sister,
a Survivor,
a Humanitarian,
an Ambassador of World Peace.
Form:
We, the poets pull words from physical reminders
As a farmer harvest crops
And as ranchers recognize the animals..
We, the poets often glean from our storage
Words needed to create what we wish to express.
See how children make friends with their toys
And often have imaginary experiences.
They believe for a time, real and living to them
That allows the child a world of fiction and fantasy.
Real things grow on our vines of *Jungian theory
As our mind chooses words and create thoughts.
One well knows clouds and watermelons
As close relatives, kissing cousins genetically
As their molecular identity is almost the same.
As the mind create
The body expels joy and hate.
We satisfy our needs the best we can
Thereby feed the desire to cast emotional dice.
Sending the tending to an unfriended ending,
yet somehow suspending from rending a newly offending recommending.
Logotype monotype linotype,
overripe stereotype,
teletyped an unripe heliotype.
Guttersnipe snipe,
stipe snipe ripe,
a wipe type a tripe,
unleash a withering hype.
Dip snip,
nip lip,
slip skip,
rip the apple pip
over a battleship Chip.
Clip,
airstrip,
blip,
scrip,
gyp,
flip,
dip.
Unsip, blue clip,
A warship, weathering stick.
To miche an itch,
to stitch a witch.
Rich a quitch,
Hitch a flitch.
Gabrilowitsch,
the grand son of a *****!
Pitched a ditch to flitch a niche.
Made a rich hitch lich.
The Thia tie thy tried to untie an unshy,
Spied a sny sty,
He ascribed a bribe tribe,
to dib drib, lib and sib.
A death pale,
dwaled and engrailed,
enjailed and bewailed.
The cocktale turned into a,
ginger ale stale.
A hobnail.
A pale kale.
The whale waled
a veil of wail.
The stale air,
railed the quailing sale.
Dipped the snip,
to pip the tip,
and baled the avail,
to the flailed snail.
Attract extract reenact,
saddle backed and subtracted,
the tact the pact
an unmistakable fact.
Swag the unsage,
the wage of the tutelage.
A coffee break
a bit of a cornflake
cupcaked the cake of the devil's flake.
Draked the fake fruitcake,
and hake the jake on the mellow lake.
Mistake the overtake.
A pancake sheik,
cried spake of a toothache.
Ack Ack!
Back, Bootblack Jack.
Pack the Pontiac rack,
sack the Hackensack,
hijack the leatherback.
Offtrack the outback,
rack the sack,
smack the stack,
stickleback the tictack track,
to the umiak Union Jack.
Twack the whack yak sack,
A mystical one eyed zodiac.
Bready a speedy,
deedy the weedy,
Reedy to leedy.
Unheedy indeedy.
Leda, Vida, Theda.
Sketched an etch,
itched a hatch.
So speechless,
breathless,
toothless.
The socialist,
the communist,
the theorist
the terrorist.
Bedded the bedding
in a dreadful beheading.
Weeded the weed,
leading the lead,
tended the teed.
The ready read,
the reedy reeded.
The seedy seeded.
The end is Ending.
"Heights And Depths"
The Heavens and their heights are beyond all measure!
How many Heavens do actually exist?
Do they continue one beyond another?
I ponder as a height and depth theorist!
Is there truly a sky beyond the sky
which the human eye will never see?
When our spirits go to be with HIM,
can we see and touch eternity?
When it comes to the depths of the earth,
what truly is considered deep?
How does one measure the earth's lowest point,
and what secrets do the depths of the deep keep?
Does it stop at the bottom of the deepest ocean
or does it go straight to the earth's core?
How far down is the deepest deep?....
and at the bottom, is it deeper more?
Now the heights of the Heavens
and the depths of the earth,
do they even remotely compare,
to heights of our emotions
and the depths of our hearts?
Could any comparative measurement
truly be fair?
WTA-IV 3/22/2016
Hello, my name is Service
I am happy to help you today.
Please don’t take advantage of me because,
I am not inferior to you.
Hello, my name is Joy.
Don’t confuse me with Happy.
My strength is inner content
No matter what my emotions show.
Hello, my name is Inner Peace,
And I am what you want to find.
I am not surface deep or even shallow.
My veins feed the heart and soul.
Hello, my name is Every Lie You Were Ever Told
And yes, I have many faces,
Many fronts for you to see.
I have a great costume called Truth,
And another costume called Acceptance.
When I show up my favorite first front is Popularity
But call me out and I will name you a Conspiracy Theorist.
I will rally against you
And guilt is my favorite card to play.
Hello, my name is Wisdom
I am your helper and your friend,
But I only come when you let me.
I will not be where I am not wanted.
I will not come where I am not called.
My strength is in experience
That makes me different from the rest.
If you choose to use me
That is great by me
I will use the past to guide you through the present
And call out the lies you were told
Stick with me beside you
Because I will guide you.
16.12.2015
Part 2
Call me a consciousness conspiracy theorist but wise,
I dig out many lies while being surprised,
So I rewire with the motivation of desire,
Cause I want the rest!!!
As I try my heart felt best,
I'm feeling this all as a test,
I digest and invest in systems with high probabilities,
Ya see,
These so called truths are hard to prove, they’re possibilities,
Do you read my words? nah ya tee me up like an unaware referee,
Technical just like subliminal messages waged and played through,
Dirty deeds, these weeds don't please me and cause me to leave,
But how do we leave and ignore all these tricks,
They stick like Hollywood flicks,
Dam are we all just part of the matrix,
I'll be here always deciphering all the programming real quick,
Those that are ramming all the information bits,
That are used with a strategic hit and destroy the spiritual unfit,
Using Reserve money from scumbags with fat tragic stacks,
Of physical magic cause were all trapped into it,
Feeding it with sick minds believing we need it,
Then we go and invest in it so you become it,
But I rather find wise words and dip them in Chrome,
So they reflect light shining bright off the top of the dome,
A word narrator warrior roaming on a journey to conquer,
The lures roots turning our experience to ignorance quicker,
Looking once, looking twice, taking inner advice, I slice and dice,
So concise as I turn the tables, unable to continue in a unstable fable,
Rising up, and on the attack, so turn the tables to our capabilities,
Quincy Mac always coming with steez with words like these,
Using feasible tweezers that can see.....so,
I remove the splinters mindfully,
Officially and always peacefully,
My my……….. As life fly’s by,
Don’t deny the mind,
Or the third eye.
Quincy Mac
date written: 16.12.2015
We peep through grated beams in the dark confines,
Kept in chains by the tyranny of audacious jailers,
unending cynosure of profligates and imposters:
ruining the destinies of million wearied sufferers.
criminals fit for the gallows,
morons from the days of the colony.
dictators in military attires.
and simpletons kept in power for temporary ease.
our heirloom forced from us by old monsters.
cabals of criminals, greedy goons, men untutored in reputation.
Felons and rapscallion from the military barracks,
too old for modern ideas.
we are burdened along by colonial tyranny,
in a country where destinies are suspended in the gale,
and youths are forced into their own crimes of stealing.
we could not speak our sentiment freely.
we are fettered and riveted by their guns.
The sword above us, tyranny of archaic mind.
dreamy theorist acting as lords over multitudes of docile lots.
men made to cringe and fawn bowing and stooping to the
threatening of their guns.
They armed assassins and sufferers alike,
paid a trifling sum from the proceeds of corruption,
to keep the masses away from them as old baron loot the treasury,
this open prison of fancied freedom,
where marauders employed by the states with a gun to kill,
trans versing the south with AK47/.
terrorist renamed bandits by religious sympathizers.
from the porous borders of North,
comradely of Fanatics and bigots of the sword sect.
Clandestinely overrunning the land.
Freedom is a crime to fools.
those who dares becomes enemy of states.
assaulted by “operation python” dance.
or raided by Lawless DSS.
This is but a Jihad disguised as government.
The road is a trap of death,
we sleep as watchers waiting for the sword.
we starve amidst multitudinous resources,
they Lend to keep us in Bondage.
The crude in the south.
and all the resources are carted away to the North
to pay terrorist.
A state crimes condoned.
we groan,
we dare not speak as their armed assassin are
ready to silence the Voice of Truth.
one more Truth for the Jailer from the North.
A reference for every thought
Deconstruct all you think and find the link
To the last time you felt that way
Heard the words
Learned that fact
Disassemble the pieces of the things and
Actions you hold to be true
Find the place in the litany of your life
And note down the author, the theorist
The lover and map the route to the
Conurbation of storehouses and pyramids
Of belief and time
Track each thought, each breath, each moment
That constructed these towns of ideas
And live the informed like evaluating each
Placement
Fortify only the foundations of these that
Hold under such intense surveillance
Limerick crochetés: Once cheerful Alzheimer motorist
Once cheerful Alzheimer motorist
Drove stolen car on a real tight fist
Drank oil at petrol pump
Bought used golf balls from Trump
Got called to White House as Chief Theorist
First advice he forgot to give Chief
“Show House anagram on handkerchief!”
Got kicked upstairs to roof
To count suns water-proof
Saw shooting stars making much mischief
Forgot to keep his mouth right tight shut
Five gallons of oil came rushing out
All West Wing caught fire
Also Code Nuclear
Kim Jong Un lit cigars in a fit !
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Foundation Bricks of thoughts.
History contained in bible.
Sedentary.
Time in ancient misery.
Mind shoots with guns.
Blood spread in land of African tales.
War one, War two until here in thoughts battle.
Now what is next?
Politics, scientists, theorist light in education where we going?
Mind is thoughts, life is time.
WHAT IS NEXT!
He will fight for you.
He created you.
He is God that is unquestionable.
Men reflect his image.
Heave is here hell is there.
What about Marikana thirty four blood.
White live in heaves, dream in magic.
England is Education and land of beautiful thoughts.
Shakespeare to Oxford.
Life is time.
WHAT IS NEXT!
Reminisce in time.
History is facts no passed.
Yes men pass death is last.
Phantasm is the eye. See the light.
Prepare here is future.
Wisdom of men lives in tooth.
Google in men, travel through brain.
Dreams speaks life mislead.
System is locked.
Where is the key?
Latin is abstruse whilst the learning battle ceased
Though as theorist thinkers, found a language lost,
Opaque it all may seem, but it’s merely just a dream
Then I’ll circumvent some adumbrate at least.
Impetuous the urge I ask to detail verse for you-
Meticulous does Latin sound, incredibly romantic,
As old as it may be, its sight is not pedantic
It's feature full with feculence, but understood by few.