SCATTERED CONCEALMENTS-:-
mimetic
imagination
camouflaged
heightened
resemblance
in a QUEST OF OBLIVION
chance
happenings
sought-after
self-referential
superiority
of SEQUENTIAL AESTHETICS
inimitable
familiar
inevitability
unfocused
atmospheres
Selfly Guh-Selfishness
I Like Things That Are Nuts.
Oh, That's Different.
Self-Referential Self-Centerdness
Self Guggldy-Guggg-Gugg-Undone...
Get Over Yourself...
Get It? NUTS!?! Ha-ha?
Honestly, Can Anyone Else Talk?
Don't Eat The Shell.
Huh?
-Gray Squirrel
05-16-2025
Harsh asymmetrical contour following dislocated noncontextual departure.
Roaming, haphazardly choreographed with precise misaligned determination.
Mindfully staggering indistinguishable purpose, consistently in linear circumnavigation.
A matter of process, a state of perpetual traversal, saves from permanence.
The ad infinitum of specificity is quantum, the superposition allowing consistent continuity while indelibly transposing by observance.
Redundant to its operation, yet necessary in its function.
Leaving spaces unfiled by way of impetus, whilst evidently consiquential.
Paradoxically self referential, pertinently inescapable ever presence.
soft, softer and softer yet still
slow, slower, surrendering will
energies kinetic and potential
illuminate soul self-referential
Sitting,
Alone and uninspired
Ruminating on my throne
Of the tired
Freezing,
My heater, broken and retired
In a building whose condemnation
Remains desired
Searching,
For some deeper, elaborated meaning
To a poem procrastinated
A cause for my demeaning
Sulking,
I lack muse and direction
I can only imagine the forthcoming drear
Of this poem’s lection
Drinking,
My hot chocolate keeps me company
As I mull over this poetry
And choose a word that rhymes only subtley
A trochee,
Dum-da,
is used by a poet
tho' very few know it;
a tro-chee is
self-referential.
An iamb,
da-Dum,
to confuse or amuse
or generally abuse;
pronounced i-amb,
is instead a trochee.
A spondee,
Dum-Dum,
is like a black hole;
somewhat hokey,
pronounced spon-dee,
is always a trochee.
A dactyl,
Dum-da-da,
like the anapest
from Budapest,
pronounced dac-tyl,
is also trochee.
And an anapest,
da-da-Dum,
as I understand,
in another fun factyl,
pronounced an-a-pest,
is a dactyl!
“When you have nothing to write about, write about nothing”
Christine Mazumdar - CBC Literary Writing Tip, 6:00 am, April 13, 2021
I'll not venture into Sartre, that's too existential
for in these viral times, my needs are fundamental
although it's hard to stop my being self-referential.
Where does my mouse prompt go when it disappears
before I go into Device Manager to return it now to here?
and with so many dying, why have I neither fear nor tears?
For deep inside lies nought but emptiness
which almost rhymes with nothingness
and a fear that it's all meaningless.
(Based on the seemingly-paradoxical logic behind Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem, in which the self-referential Gödel statement can only be seen to be true from outside the system.)
I cannot believe that this statement is true.
Don’t try to convince me; you’d turn my face blue.
I’m choked by its verdict whatever I do.
The freedom to see it belongs to just you.
The youth, wearing only boxer shorts,
is gazing with a sense of awe
at the small square object in his hand.
A smartphone!
It has a screen; it also has a camera.
Its lens has captured a mirror
with the boy within its frame,
gazing upon, contemplating,
perhaps admiring, even,
the screen of a phone that now is holding
an image of himself in the frame of the mirror
holding the object that has captured it
within the frame of the screen.
We see this image as
we wander social media,
where the picture of the boy
in the mirror in the camera,
which he gazes down upon
with awe, as if it were
an alien artefact,
is there for us to ponder.
The image has stolen his attention;
it has captured and confined him,
fascinated and entranced him.
He has fallen into a shimmering pool,
self-referential, gazing at itself.
It is another land.
If God is something that you think,
It is only a process that you drink;
Wittgenstein's answer of yes and no,
Does only referential justification show.
Societal concepts are never jokes,
But at other people make pokes;
They're straight with direct meaning,
So have an implied, absolute feeling.
David Lehman said Wittgenstein,
Was quoted by dons as sane,
And I just think he restated that,
Language is within society, fact.
God is not physical in any way,
'Cos ontology can't have it's say;
It can't describe the dais God,
Using predicate logic most odd.
But all things are describable,
And sets with no God table,
So we can easily conclude,
That he is just us being rude.
Reference: Wittgensteins Ladder by David Lehman
Afghanistan…the land of occupation…?
From Britain…to Russia…to America…no love…a dove…?
Some military actions…referential contractions…
Moral destruction…resistance of fractions…
Country so poor…exposure to more…
Land mines…air strikes…the likes…
Hey man…what is the plan..?
Years of being a stronghold…as we are told…
From the Taliban to Al-Qaeda…the resistance seems wider…
The country…so hungry…
For survival…see the arrival…
Of foreign forces…any resources…?
For food…shelter…education…clothing…transports…?
The report…of the UN…the world food program…UNICEF…
Corruption…drugs…thugs…any hugs...?
The children…the pawns…in the storms…
The bombings…so damning…the innocents…the guilty…
The wounded…the dead…the counts…still mounts…
The cries…the lies…the truth…the root…
The news…the views…the critics…the rhetoric’s…
The politics of change…the range…
Of assessment…of the situation…is it a nation…in depletion…?
The costs…for the arms…it alarms…
UNSUPPORTED CODE
Three travelers are
having breakfast at
the halfway home
cafe.
"Ever since," Says
the captain,"I take
my coffee black.You
know how it is,when
you go black you
don't go back!"
The soldier
said,"Make it
white,extra
cream!"He winks at
his comrade and
proclaim,"When you
go white,nothing
else seem right."
Table no.3 at the
corner call
out,"Refill
please.Straight
Mocha!" He lifts up
the mug,beckons the
fellas and say."When
you go brown,you get
the crown!"
Haha!Yes i know.But
that does not
necessarily make
them racial!It could
be preference or
even referential!
As a Christian,i
pray for Israel.It
is not really an
obligation,its a
chemistry.Like most
people,i too
certainly is in love
with Israel!Not to
mention the fact
that,it is an added
blessing on those
who bless Israel.
However,it is also
written,"He who has
eyes,let him see and
he who has ears,let
him hear." I have
both,its the reason
why am able to
discern right from
wrong.So yes,am all
united for a free
Palestine!
Does that make me so
wrong in being
right?Or so right in
being wrong?
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
branch
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
over me
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
gracefully
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
I enjoyed wrapping my mind around his words
Stretching my thinking
At times coming unglued
Reaching towards oblivion
While keeping my feet in multiple worlds
Standing on sinking ground
While leaning on granites precious solidity
The substance of imaginations inconsistencies
Tugging on the heart strings of a well played heart
Wondering along the pathway of dreams long held at arms length
Hoping to understand
Taking that backward look while moving forward and upward
Words are his gift
Dropped like psychedelic bombs
Ripping at the fabric of convention
Pain wrapped in sheepskin
Joy pushed through pencils point
Leaving me in awe
Dancing and stretching along
Bouncing against his liquid walls
Till I come out the other side
Understanding
Landing
Blessed
More than I was before
Yet part of myself
Stays behind
Trying to catch my breath
Dedicated to Drake
Submitted to Debbie's Guzzi's Referential Contest
"Closer" By Chris Aechtner reminded me of Drakes Work
and Drakes unusual word combinations thus inspiring
the above piece.
Life is like a pure glass goblet
Molded from the beginning
Etchings are added like memories
Each one carefully placed
Home is represented by a firm line
Showing the beginning of life
Followed by the ups an downs of growing up
Here the pattern begins
Love and marriage follows next
Children added to life's total
The hearts and tiny flowers
Are etched upon the glass
Old age quickly follows
The etcher with expertise
Entwines the flowing line
So that the picture is all as one
Life's pattern is etched for eternity
Unless carelessness causes
the glass to be shattered, gone for evermore.
Inspired by : Figure Fusion written by Robb Kopp
Penned 30 June 2013
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.