INFINITE SELF-ABSORPTION
profound
seriousness
tends
towards
the
indifferent
appearing
to observe
the
remote
impersonal
&
uninterested
yet
resembling
solemnity
crucial
to understanding
to
inform
selfish
devotion
&
sympathetic
understanding
EXTERNAL ILLUSIONS
images
assigned
&
occupying
the
sensual
phantasmagoria
perceived
feeling
for
form
in
aesthetic
reality
or
pseudo
transcendance
reproduced
& receptive
contemplation
of
fortuitious
transparent
phenomena
analogies
&allegories
of
activities
in
blossoming
perspective
re emerge
impersonal
inorganic
changeless
manifestations
IMPERSONAL IMITATION
complete
meticulous
devotion
framed
stereotyped
motifs
of
immediacy
envisaged
emanating
perspectives
observing
change
in
acquired
sentimentality
Think of your life
Before Amazon came.
At gift-giving time,
You had no one to blame
If the present you purchased
For a certain date
Wasn’t mailed out in time
And arrived much too late.
It was all on your shoulders -
The shopping, the wrapping;
Too bad if the calendar
Caught you out napping.
Now you click on the site
And you order away
With your gift, in a day or two,
Well on its way.
Impersonal? Yes,
But it gets to the door
Without much of the hassle
You dealt with before.
An occasional gift
Sent in old-fashioned style
Makes me marvel that someone
Went that extra mile.
fleeting
pigments
subjective
snapshots
radical
reflective
residues
plausible
piquant
pictorial
perceptions
with
latent
tendencies
lasting
impersonal
immediate
pseudo
sequences
suppressed
chiselled
disturbing
epigrammatic
representation
executed
in
foreshortened
contradictions
Things are not as they seem
Nor do they seem otherwise I’d say
You might point I’ve a low self esteem
So I’m quicker to look away
I admit something’s wrong with me
But I reckon you feel the same
And so they do, to an uncertain degree
The rules change during the game
Everything breaks down so fast
Into countless interdependencies
One’s future appears to be the past
And impersonal volatile tendencies
Unravel the changes, heading too far,
To adjust the solidity, concealing the fright
Long familiar light from the extinguished star
Shines a little dimmer tonight.
I shot all the letters, my love, in the silent dawn of night,
From my last unread book, the pages remain unstarted,
The poems exchanged their corpses for impersonal words,
Full of blind ideas, like echoes fading in the valley unheard.
Turning the phrase on the erased spot of the final point,
A yellow, vegetal form becomes a banal detail in joint,
Leading us to the forgotten trash heap's communal grave,
A swirling fervor, a strange cross, a destiny tangled and grave.
After so many loves and insults, let's dream of each other anew,
Not just our most uncultured dreams, but in another view,
Conscious punctuation marks sent to the earth we embrace,
Old creations now hollow, a NULLity of words with no grace.
Let's lose ourselves in the silence of words that echo no more,
In an esoteric dance of thoughts flowing slowly to the core,
In a world where magic and melancholy meet and blend,
And in an eternal dream, my love, let's find and love again.
Putting out fires not of my making
it's time-consuming heart-breaking
the grass over there don't seem any greener
and from my perspective the streets are meaner
the so-called social networks are as unsociable as can be
impersonal with dirty laundry on show for everyone to see
despite self-admitted wrong-doing and misdeeds
the herd still follows their every lead
but I won't borrow sorrow
and be overwhelmed by the troubles of others
doing my best making the most
if it's not one thing it's another
and then sometimes it's both
feels like the world has gone to hell
with nary a handbasket to carry us there
and I'm at the bottom of a deep dank well
is the world spiralling out of control
while I'm abandoned here in a drear dark hole
abecedarian poem
The fudge! The fudge!
A mnemonic device
some good acronyms to
remember for the clefs
Early: Gregarious:Blissfull Days Fatuous
Equivocate Garrulous Bouis Dampen Fervor
Egotistical Gaffe Balafon De-esser Fortissimo
abstract or impersonal information Vandoren
spoke the reed-member.
The fudge: the fudge 'The fudge!
Lady what are you talking about:
I hunger; in deeds I do!
egg;grits;bacon;Daikon: Fudge!
The fudge! the Fudge The Fudge!
Exotic:Gracful:Boxum:Devotion: Flirtatious
These are some acronyms!
Eating Green Bok choy Discorages Farts
eating feta bought Dence farts
Electronic Drums: Ground :Bees: disperse: Fiddlers
Eager: Gizzers:Bizzentine's:Dungeoneers:Fancy
Eager:Glammers:Bet:Down:Folly
Either:Gerund,Beat;Dark-match: first
Every:Grappler:Brings:Dirty-finsh:
Edakka.Gandingan,Bassoon:didgeridoo:Flageolet!
Beliefs
Attachments to thoughts
Reinforce a separate identity &
Things are taken personally..
Which is a story of
An appearance of the
Impersonal...
The
Impersonal
Is a character
Appearing in the
Sagas of life...
The impersonal
Appears as personal..
Nothing personal...
Here I am..Imperfect Lord..' So many mistakes.' Yet i am
Created in your image.' That must be an eventual stage?
I must consider.' What is holy.? Is it a pure intention.? Or
The deposit on holyness..? I confess i do not know the answer.' I have put myself under judgement in the past.' And i did see or realise a result.' Being informed of your appearance to that pastor.' As a matter of fact two people
The other a man by the name of Adrian Gilbert.. An author
And astronomer.' So I know you wish to be with us.' Yet i
Still have fear Lord.. I overthink.' I do hunger and thirst for
Righteousness.' In my un-righteous state.' I still recall bad
Things..I still have anger and dismissivness.' I know I should not.' Help me overcome this.' I do try to be very carefull in my writing to re flect the truth.' Or as much as
Can be known.' I have tried to remove the delusions of
The world superimposed upon me or us.? That being an
Impersonal address.' So yes Lord i accept you are all knowing.' I accept I need the life only you (have to offer)
I ask to be forever reconciled to you.' Through the blood
Of Jesus your begotton son.' I ask the Holy Spirit be Witness to my wish.'
How many hearts will melt
from message, AI wrote
that pings upon a phone;
as many did who felt
soft kiss on gentle throat
that sighed a yielding moan?
When I write
my goal is to be
impersonal as possible --
giving all credit
or defeat
to the Muse, Devil or
God of a partner.
To my mind,
Poetry, must speak independent of
the author, using a schizoid sort of
logic --
there must be a life
exhibited, that upon completion
the author, reads back with as
much interest as any foreign tourist or explorer
thinking: "where did that come from?"
Then I know, in my own humble way,
though not having touched the face of greater
creation, I have at least seen a small feature, moving on
with better sense of future direction, what to strive for
while in further pursuit of the art. Poetry, like everything else one does
in life, should be viewed through a sacred lens --
in order to do one's best, and for best results.... As I cloudily
ascertain. My method. I know nothing.
OLD MOVIES
I’m almost embarrassed to admit
A feeling deep down in my gut
Some may identify as patriotism
Now considered to be old school
From an old black and white film
Featuring events before I was born
Yet somehow, they still resonate
Perhaps it is now that certain age
When one’s memory is to the fore
Having much greater significance
To me than back then, I suppose
It could just be the music, I guess
But also, those blurry street scenes
That seems as if it was all my own
Cars I owned, and much less bustle
Styles of course, and all those hats
Younger viewers just seeing history
Impersonal, and almost a fantasy
As they will merely nod and smile
But it’s just a movie, and artificial
Taking me back to then and there
But, do I really need to apologise
Because it is and was, my world
Sub Categories
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