Long Distributed Poems
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He was an atheist.
He was proud of it.
Those who believed in the existence of a
Supreme being, and in the survival of the soul after death,
Were, for him, dim-witted people worthy only to be
The laughing stock of his "superior intelligence."
He never concealed his denial of God,
He did not need to believe in such a divine being
Because
He knew that himself was the superior being, and
As far as the idea of a soul was concerned, there was none.
One dies and that's it! Game over!
The time passed and as he was mortal he died one day,
However
As soon he was declared dead,
Surprised the atheist was to ''see himself " hovering
All over his inanimate body.
He had no arms, no legs, no head, or any other organs
Just pure consciousness he was, pure thought, and
Pure light.
A sphere of a whitish color " He " was
With some sparkling particles distributed around its periphery.
In other words, he was a soul.
Confused and bewildered with the situation that the atheist,
Himself has now found,
Did not know what to do and what to him was coming.
In a little while though,
A luminous being approached him,
Wearing the broadest of possible smiles.
The being was emanating love, compassion, warmth, and
Understanding.
As the entity came closer to the "atheist" with his mind these
Words to him transmitted:
" Do not be surprised, my dear friend, for I am here to
welcome you and lead you to your creator whose existence
you have throughout life, so vehemently, denied!"*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
09 June 2021
* This story is inspired by a debate that I once had with the head of the Computer Department of a renowned university, who was an atheist and who called me silly to believe in God and in the afterlife. When I asked him: " Why I am silly?" He replied that I was silly because I believed in these theories and went on to tell me that I will be surprised when I die because I will find nothing of what I expect to find. At that moment I retorted: " My dear friend, Nigel, it will not be me that would be surprised but you, because if your theory is correct, I will not be there to be surprised but if my theory is correct then you will be the one to be surprised." He looked at me for a few seconds and then he said: If you put it like that, Demetrios, you are right. I will be the one to be surprised."
Copyright 2014 A.D., ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
By Thomas Lam Hsi Andress (TLH ANDRESS)
THE 'AUDACITY' OF DISCLOSURE!!!
Thomas Hsi
1 second ago
This VERY SONG is the VERY REASON that I KEEP HOPING that LOVE WILL ONE DAY...'MAYBE'...FIND ME...as 'SHE'...finds...ME! After I was 'DELIVERED' by 'URSULA'...on APRIL 23, 1959 A.D., as a 'LILY-WHITE' MALE CHILD, but raised as an 'ASIATIC,' though I would go on to BECOME A MENTAL AND PHYSICAL 'SUPER-MAN' in that I would accomplish so many 'AMAZING' things in my 55 year-lifetime ( 70 mph 'ACCELERATED-RUN,' 378 lbs. 'ONE-ARM' DUMBELL CURL, 878 lbs. 'ONE-HAND' DEADLIFT, over 300 'ORIGINAL or IMPROVED GOURMET-QUALITY' FOOD RECIPES, 'WORLD'S FINEST POET, POETIC LYRICIST, ATTORNEY (AVVO-DISTINGUISHED, 14 OF MY 26 MEMOS WOULD GO BEFORE THE UNITED STATES SUPREME COURT, WITH THE 'SUPER-MAJORITY' OF THE CASES BEING DECIDED ALONG THE LINES IN WHICH I HAD CONCLUDED), VALEDICTORIAN AT EVERY MAJOR UNIVERSITY AROUND THE WORLD (based on 'Test Scores' at the University of Southern California and the University of Hawaii), the 'WORLD'S HIGHEST LSAT-TEST SCORE,' the 'WORLD-VALEDICTORIAN' LAW-GRADUATE (as McGEORGE SCHOOL OF LAW was the 'MOST DIFFICULT CLASS EVER FOR THAT PARTICULAR YEAR,' 'ORIGINATOR' OF THE PUBLIC ADDRESS, PORTABLE, RADIO-DEVICE WHICH WOULD LEAD JAPAN TO DEVELOP THE MODERN KARAOKE-MACHINE, and lead SOUTH KOREA TO DEVELOP THE HIGH-DEFINITION TELEVISION, 'MELON-STYLE' DRINKS, the 'SOLELY-RESEARCHED, WRITTEN, EDITIED, COPIED, AND DISTRIBUTED' 5 and 1/2 PAGE COMPRESSED OUTLINE FOR DETERMINING WHAT A CONFORMING AND NON-CONFORMING RESALEABLE LOAN IS, along with a PROPOSAL FOR DAWN FINANCIAL, where the 'EQUITY-VALUE' OF AN OLDER-HAWAIIAN REAL PROPERTY INTEREST, could be REALIZED UPON BY RELEASING THE BUILT-UP 'EQUITY,' the development of a 'PROGRESSIVE-STYLE' BETTING SYSTEM at the WHEEL OF FORTUNE and ROULETTE TABLE (first used by Me at the MGM GRAND HOTEL & CASINO in RENO, NEVADA), 'DEVELOPER' OF THE 'FAST-OUTBOARD-MOTORBOAT,' with a 'SCOOP-VECTOR,' the 'MULTI-DIRECTIONAL SCOOP-VECTORING-SYSTEM,' the 'SWIVEL-WIND-FAN-SYSTEM' (with various 'FAN DESIGNS,' including the 'MULTI-DIRECTIONAL-OBLIQUEST-DESIGN,' a 'PROPOSED-DESIGN' for a SPACE-SHUTTLE which solves the 'O-RING' PROBLEM.
though thine wife gladly
(and long time ago)
verily swept passed
her final child bearing year
this house broken husband
genuinely hankers to father
(yes sire re:to set sea men
"NOT FAKE," nor NONGMO
free and reduced)
and longingly participate
in parenthood again
donning baby proof couture wear
analogous (as aye imagine dragons
fire breathing worth tolerating),
those who fervently veer
yearning to undergo
sex reassignment surgery (SRS)
with unintentional surgeon's delicate tear
aye thru thoroughly anesthetized flesh,
(especially genitals under going
transformational substantial removal
via said - bravely bite ting the bullet -
sharp pinching shear)
contemplating, formulating, issuing
personal specifications to cutting crew
validating, testifying recapping re: questing
genitals do not reappear
since significant surgery purport, some hetero
sexual person might coon sitter *****
yet no doubt a homosexual
and/or lesbian would ap pear
to understand completely if he/she
didst unwittingly accidentally overhear
confidential conversation,
yet warmly reassured the speaker,
they did not intend to get near
enough to glean enough information
that said transexual could reduce wardrobe
with women and/or menswear
and this once distraught,
distressed, and distributed
without willingness unfairly
fated to live stemmed,
undoubtedly wrought from sexual misalignment,
would post surgery
hover off the ground and modestly
swagger off into the sunset
(this scenario projection strictly of mine)
anyway he/she could map out in one direction
destiny describing,
an upswinging trajectory linear
once future freed where gender now nsync
???????
with physical gonadal accouterment
unconcerned if urge arises
to swivel derriere with flare.
-------------------------------------
duyeer93
st
america
online
dot
com
matthew scott
highland manor apartments
schwenksville, pennsylvania
19473
USA
They tell me to listen.
They tell me to be quite.
But I feel like an outcast.
Especially when I listen
To what they tend to say.
People treat me less than more.
People do not understand me.
More or less, I get ignored; by all.
In the middle of a conversation,
They just walk away, unannounced . . .
Now I am beginning to reflect negative actions.
Myself
I too, have been rolling my ankles over you as of late.
What is?
What is it?
What is it that you want me to be?
Who are you?
We are.
We just are who we are.
We do us
Just
They do us too.
They preach about good grades and stress on how import is school.
I tend not to listen;
Especially to (the) rules.
Matter fact,
I break the rules.
Because the rules break me.
We close our lips and sit in silence.
It is our place to be.
We accept silence.
I follow you and we become us.
Me and you
And you
And
me...
Meanwhile,
They remain them.
And
They are better than us.
What about us?
We
are
afraid.
Afraid of their own shadows.
Scared of our weakness;
Traits that we allow ourselves to battle—We are afraid of them...
Only if,
Only if I allow you how!
It’s us and it is them.
It is you and it is I.
They are them and you are I.
Together we still become us.
To hell with them and forget whatever they say...
They are not us.
We are not them.
We are only as weak as we allow them to make us.
Fear is what they have against us.
They are not us.
Therefore,
We are not them.
Fear keeps us weak and gives them the upper hand.
Control is distributed meticulously for us/by us all.
To us...
From Them,
Perception is molded to form normality—
Acceptance ignorantly agrees—
Bathing in delusions ...
Peace be with you,
Sincerely, I...
They do not speak,
With us.
They simply take,
From us.
We allow it how so;
To be what it may.
So it is what it is.
At least that’s what they say.
They tell us to listen.
Then we sit and we stay.
Quietly listening for a much brighter way,
While we simply do us,
And they simply do they.
10-24-2017
Brilliant, grandiloquent, magnificent, trenchant...
Writing prompts burst asunder
deafening soundcloud roared
with apocalyptic thunder
'course only audible to yours truly,
I did dumbfoundedly wonder...
At o'clock tick tocking wee hours brisk
December seventeenth
two thousand nineteen
simultaneous blinding fiery kindling
quickening xing risk
within winkin blinkin and nod,
I feared full light of day brainstorm
snatched away courtesy invisible whisk
broom all those potential
ideas sprung while
Messiah by George Frideric
Handel's never out of style
within cerebral nooks and
crannies (think Ohiopyle),
whereby Youghiogheny River
bubbles, gurgles, fuels river mile
after mile harnesses and doth generate
approximately twelve Megawatts
of electricity per hour, to alleviate
domestic counting eight
thousand homes necessitate
distributed across western
and central Pennsylvania.
Analogous catching
courtesy goo goo dolls barenaked
ladies hands spawning
salmon slippery as an eel
(if curious don't take my word,
which might not appeal)
though yours truly
offers no guarantee,
you could easily fall
overboard as ye kneel,
which subsequently offers
live human meal
to hungry sharks, impossible mission
to escape no matter
how loud you squeal,
bouquets delphiniums and daisies
designate watery grave site
dissolving blood amidst the color teal.
Aforementioned depiction, whereby current
commander in chief
admittedly no gent
till man nor scholar, and
he cavalierly lent
and nearly fin hushed nearly
(possibly already) rent
asunder high crimes and
misdemeanors, he casually spent
constitutional principles of democracy,
whereby I experience torment
precipitating quasi riptides undercurrent
bigotry, demagoguery, "fakery,"...
misogyny, vanity vetted vice
whereby woebegone grievances
Pandora's box loosed
helter skelter they went.
Anyway... synonymous maintaining
readership attention blinker
necessary to apply unsuspecting
hook, line and sinker
without rousing ire principal
(at Henry Kline elementary
my dear watson Mister Rinker)
long since retired,
he possibly maybe grandfather
of one or more freethinker.
Rather Galesburg Joliet
Terrehaute Florence Colorado
to the shores of Bogotá
flushing heroin fentanyl
through the gates behind bars
thee corrupt prison ran
by gang leaders paying
off prison guards you can
ask yourself what brand
to buy into Hoover vacuum’s
are reliable American made
while Kirby Brands offers
negligence falsifying death
row inmates finally hangman’s
curse while the hoover
vacuum continues to crawl
over the paisley patterns in
the federal building breaking
even on Lasalle and Van Burean
where Gargano once controlled
most of the revenue trading fenced
with osh gosh severe terrorist
threats released only when corrupt
prison guards do exactly what
he says attack who he says attack
while Kirby vacuum holding twenty
convictions drugs violence victim
intimidation battery hit and run
corrupt family members controlling
Wisconsin prison system looking to
transfer power back to Joliet upon
Hoover stamp of approval which
might cross over interfering with
the free Hoover movement this
certainty opens the flood gates
for Gambino early release programs
for death row inmates just can’t
have all power to the people without
including all prison across America
not to exclude Gitmo with the
boarders rise in Islamic crossing
over Lore Mannino territories all
corruption throughout prison systems
changes hands through Gambino rackets
funnelling crime throughout abuse
of power corruption evenly distributed
meanwhile power is being tampered
with 40 years of dirt swept under
the rugs until the Hoover vacuum
is plugged back in all bets are off
ask yourself what’s your Brand
Hoover trustees or unreliable Kirby
designed to malfunction fictitious
score boards chips blood everywhere
devouring the structure of all power
terrorising FBI confidential human sources
during an election where corruption sinks
fast folding swiftly better get a broom
No fear of terrorist threats from
violent offenders gang leaders
corrupt prison guards organised
corruption abuse of power intimidation
of an FBI confidential human source
FBI informants CLEAN IT UP
When you meet death, smile as if greeting an old friend.
The fear you feel, is the fear that death will not notice how you've changed.
The lessons you've learned, the tears you've cried, the smiles you distributed to the ones in need.
But death as an old friend sees your discomfort, and wraps a warm arm around your shoulder.
The two of you walk arm in arm in the cold snow, lamp lights flickering in the distance.
Realization finally dawns on you, death was never the taker of your life, rather your guide to a new one.
The snow under your feet is infinitely deep, and you are without shoes.
With each step, melted snow turns to ice on your bare feet.
And the weight, o the weight would be unbearable without death keeping you from falling awry.
The pull of the unknown, drags like gravity down.
But death is strong, and deaths feet like snow shoes plod on through the deep.
The farther you travel, the warmer it gets, and when you look down you see the ice has melted.
The lamplight now looks as if it was made of sun, so warm, so pleasant like the face of an approving father.
Death turns to you and says, "It is time".
Looking back all you see is a tunnel, so dark it resembles the womb in which you first were birthed.
A deep breath, and you step into the waters, warm and inviting.
The snow and cold are gone, feeding this lake of warmth.
And even though it is light, you can see how dark it is until....
You are squeezed into the world that is to become your own, you gasp and suck sweet ether that inflates your breath.
The fear of being alone overtakes you, then you see your mothers eyes,
the eyes of love.
Death waves goodbye with parting words, "We will meet again old friend".
First Law of the Conservation of Energy- Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed to one form or another.
What animates life is energy........If life must create Death....then for the equation to be balanced...Death must create Life...........
It is the roots of Death.....that grow the tree of Life.. and it is the School of Life that prepares us for the University of Death...........and so the wheel spins.....................................
I am a time traveler,
I travel incognito,
I am immortal,
Have traveled worldwide,
From the beginning of time,
So this is no nursery rhyme!
I see your planets devastation,
My message,
Hope, peace and unity.
My home is a far away galaxy
Far out in space,
I am saddened looking down,
At your wanton destruction
Of the human race.
In my galaxy, we live in harmony,
There are no wars.
This is is my last visit,
So humans take serious note,
My successor unknown,
He or she could predict doom
There is no longer room,
To be complacent and passive.
Beware of the likes of Elon Musk,
Planet earth, gather your wits,
For now, and from herein,
More conspiracies and cyber tricks,
Will abound.
Wealth must be equally
Distributed, an absolute must
Power will become far more just,
Perhaps an illusion,
But a worthwhile
Goal and solution.
Let my words echo far and wide,
From one side of the planet
To the other side.
Let all have equal access
To health and medicine,
No discrimination against
Color, religion or social status,
Step back a few paces,
Look at your pollution,
You need to adopt firm resolution,
A beautiful, pristine planet earth.
Is littered with refuse,
Thrown from car windows
You have become a dumping site,
There is no escape,
To where would you take flight.
Neglecting your planet,
Affects climate and brings
About hazardous weather change,
You have but little time left,
You are destroying marine life,
Temperatures so high,
Seas are at boiling point,
Is it not time therefore, for
Humanity to address this issue,
Stop being so greedy, strive
For enough only,
Then your life
Globally, will change
For the better, but please
Understand, and hurry, for the first step.
Begins with you.
I pray my echo has been,
Heard loud and clear,
Start repairing your planet
Today, but I mean today,
And you will have nothing
To fear.
I now bid you farewell,
Change is the key,
I can see you are sad,
But must also tell,
For humanity one day to live well,
Please persevere,
So that history may retell.
Poetry competition Entry: Starman Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tom Woody
Dated; 2024/11/17
We (the missus and I) kvell for Katz TOASTER PASTRIES!
I prefer to craft a poem
for no rhyme nor reason
expressing heartfelt pleasure
to our highly refined palate
versus presenting tasty, yummy
and zesty nutritious snacks
exuberant feedback courtesy Tik Tok.
Aside from harkening from Semitic stock
me and the missus
relish those (Katz) gluten free pastries
they give us the oomph to rock
and similar to powder milk biscuits
give us strength to do what needs to be done.
Though no intention to mock
popular Pop-Tarts
(stylized as pop•tarts),
an American brand of toaster pastries
produced and distributed by Kellanova
(formerly Kellogg's) since 1964,
which consist of a sweet filling
sealed inside two layers of thin,
rectangular pastry crust.
In 2006, Mrs Katz decided
to transform the world
of gluten free snacking
for her celiac children.
Eighteen years later,
she retains firm stronghold
courtesy word of mouth watering
salivating (videlicet) Pavlovian
salutary, masterly, hardy,
deliciously crafted wholesome food
clinching dominant market share
analogous to stronghold ala deadbolt lock,
a recipe distributors attempt
to steal by hook or crook,
yet unable to break down fortified doors
after they loudly knock
on one occasion
holding the bakers on their break hostage
pointing culinary harmless
imitation edible Glock,
nevertheless drawing attention
of media camera crews that flock
for breaking shipping news
that harbor standoff
with quasi narco traffickers,
intent to rebrand and sell
Katz TOASTER PASTRIES
as mucked up poor quality dogs treats,
where special op forces
heavily guard the dock
maintaining vigilance around the clock,
to prevent goods held as contrabands
and subject pastry chefs to intense torture
forcing unsung heros
to stay awake 24/7 blindfolded,
so as not to see miscreants,
where ingredients of goodies
sniffed, sifted, and scrutinized
by sophisticated chemical analysis,
and thus I now conclude
contrived fictitious poetic scenario
to share such helpful feedback
in a little ditty composed ad hoc
can boost sales for your company.
by: matthew scott harris
Long time Shelton, Washington transplants...
also known as
noteworthy Trader Joe's patrons
bass sic lee did treble themselves
conducting taping jam session
assembling (boxing), compiling,
and hermetically sealing tight as a drum so,
a razor sharp machete blade got dull
trying to open in vain said holiday cheer
of awesome delicious goodies,
(especially the yummy
stuffed vine leaves with rice),
which holiday care package
received without fanfare
for this common man,
whose younger sister
(vibrant as Appalachian Spring),
nevertheless wiser sibling
Shari Harris-Dunning
a whiz (hard) at work
tantalizing, teasing, titillating
as a lead wrapper from home grown
organic foodstuffs, she and her bandmates
helped fit perfectly, meticulously,
and snugly together
analogous to outsize constituent components
of intricate jumbo puzzle pieces
amazingly, mathematically,
and thematically linkedin
bearing gifts subsequently mailed
(courtesy the United States Postal Service)
from Bend, Oregon
to Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
Lemme amplify how creative, innovative,
and opinionative yours truly (me)
a humble wordsmith,
who exhibits his freestyle trademark
Scottish matted style avante-garde,
one run of the mill (by the Floss) bard
wannabe wants to rave about your card,
he presumes unbridled
posthumous fame will ensue
after his lovely bones disintegrate
courtesy cremation, which cremains
symbolically distributed across
all four points across the globe,
cuz the earth will solely serve him
as eternal terrestrial graveyard
ashes repurposed hard
to believe buzzfeeding, jump/
kick starting seeds of life
and white lily obliterating ill-starred
legacy which afflicted one mortal
named Matthew Scott Harris,
whose chronic assault
with mental health issues
undermined realizing his potential.
Into the void of cosmic oblivion
eventually goeth as masterly cell bait,
the once unique human
(cited above) as (e) scripted inevitable fate
of all creatures great and small
death promises to liberate
uniting one garden variety,
and generic soul
linkedin among Spiritus Mundi
a never ending tête-à-tête.