JUST SEX and POETRY
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6216 Feb 20, 2013
Now I’ve heard for the last time.
It doesn’t snow today but February has laid its hands upon my shoulders.
We’re swaying now side to side as if we’re waiting something out.

But I have heard and we are no longer waiting.
It is almost March and you are gone.
In the air there is a long slow sigh.

In the air a surety dances like smoke.
I can be certain you are gone.
Still my knowing you pulls at me and turns a corner.

In February a life tries to fill itself out,
Searching pigment for even the loneliest spaces.
And death seeps in, a persistent stain,

Overflow of time outside of time.
An aberration, death speaks of saturation.
For this reason there is never enough.

For this reason you come to be all light and all shadow.
I’ve caught your laughter like a headcold.
All day and into the next

Now you've tracked me down, look me in the eye
While awkwardness takes my hand like an old friend and looks away.
What I’m trying to name here I can’t say plainly enough or with enough severity.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6217 Feb 20, 2013
Love of things that falsely represent a sentient being

You married a marionette for the lumbering way
that she succumbs to teeth. You saw; she sways

and says okay. And she admires the daze
you move in, hydroplaning days away:

exultant accidents. Instead of me,
a blissful wooden girl; a wooden knee

submitted for exhibit. Deadened trees:
the shelter you inhabit. And didn’t we

expect it, eking out animatronic
epochs on the sofa? Both electric—

me with boredom; you ran programs: tricks
for trenchant eyes. Disguised, the lists you ticked

led straight to this. Your love nest: nuts and bolts,
no musts. No lust. No faults,.......

and no one’s fault.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6218 Feb 20, 2013

The shadows of trees are a loom
on which you sequester your fear,
containing it through the ineluctable chant of days,
through the weave and thread of tumult.

But drive south on routes one and nine,
forsake corporatization and
the rotting tooth of conscience.
Oh love, suspend your adorations until further notice!

For the lions fart in the sun,
And, fragrant with longing, I think of them.
Those noble cats teeter in the heat waves of August,
on the verge of consequence.

Meanwhile, we flounder, confused by a vector of days.
The duplicity of higher math baffles us—
this equation for happiness, this interpretation
no tongue can demonstrate.

What meme for despair? Forget your body,
a comma lost in the sentences of night.
Forget how it yearns to be a semi-colon,
holding independent but related thoughts together.

Remember, instead, the rooster, the bright red selvage
of the East—those feathers cropped towards emptiness.
Recall how light raises its spurs, where blood splats
On the wounded windows–actually, the dawn.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6219 Feb 20, 2013
Reach into the cloud
architecture, almost to the stars.
I lived where they are made
growing up as a kid.
I just wonder what people
are thinking sometimes,
or what happens to ideas
too un evil to endure.
Out there near the edge
the ferocactus has begun to bloom.
I heard once some skaters
were murdered there.
Today I would only
take advice from an angel.
She says soon you will grow
into a beautiful girl.
Soon you will become a planet,
moons and everything.
Sometimes I feel so happy
I forget I’m going to die,
then I go to the desert
with just my sticks
and wait for the shaman.
He always comes.
And raises a temple up
from the dirt, to give to my life
a gleam of delirium, that I may
accept the final results with grace.

This world repeats
a soft et cetera .
Invisible wind,
open up and feel.
It must be a part
of the daily breezes
that roar down the mountain,
the mountain you prefer.
I live inside a crystal ball
that only sees behind me.
Once I was a teen king
thundering over the peasants.
I was born in the image of Steve.
Once I was a farm boy
on the level of clouds.
Float me back to those heights.
I remember yellow heat
in my yellow clothes and
an idea like a campfire
telling me it wasn’t sure
I’ve ever done the right thing.
Now when it asks for cures
I retrieve an amulet from a secret
altar of things that make me calm
to look upon, and when it asks
Fama, where is your love now?
I think about eating poutine
from the small of her back.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6220 Feb 20, 2013
Lord she’s gone done left me,
done packed up and split
and I with no way to make her
come back and everywhere the world is bare

bright bone white crystal sand glistens
dope death dead dying and jiving drove
her away made her take her laughter and her smiles
and her softness and her midnight sighs–

F uck Coltrane and music and clouds drifting in the sky
f uck the sea and trees and the sky and birds
and alligators and all the animals that roam the earth
f uck marx and mao f uck fidel and nkrumah and
democracy and communism f uck smack and pot
and red ripe tomatoes f uck joseph f uck mary f uck
god jesus and all the disciples....f uck fanon nixon

and malcom f uck the revolution f uck freedom f uck
the whole mothaf ucking thing
all I want now is my woman back
so my soul can sing.........
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6221 Feb 20, 2013
Some women ride horses.
Some women are horses.
Some horses are wolves
who have lost their teeth
and are ridden by women.
Some wolves are horses
ridden wild with dreams.
Some women are dreams
in the shape of horses
free of the ghost of wolves.
Some ghosts are women,
their bent air a kind of riding.
Some women ride dreams
and bend the air, freeing
the ghosts and the wolves,
and the horses.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6224 Feb 21, 2013
Double Liar Paradox (Jourdain's paradox)

This version of a famous paradox was presented by English mathematician P. E. B. Jourdain in 1913.

The following is written on opposite sides of a card:

Back side:
THE SENTENCE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS CARD IS TRUE.

Face side:
THE SENTENCE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS CARD IS FALSE.

Kate please BEWARE...!

"All that glitters is not gold"
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6225 Feb 21, 2013
The Paradox

I am the mother of sorrows,
I am the ender of grief;
I am the bud and the blossom,
I am the late-falling leaf.

I am thy priest and thy poet,
I am thy serf and thy king;
I cure the tears of the heartsick,
When I come near they shall sing.

White are my hands as the snowdrop;
Swart are my fingers as clay;
Dark is my frown as the midnight,
Fair is my brow as the day.

Battle and war are my minions,
Doing my will as divine;
I am the calmer of passions,
Peace is a nursling of mine.

Speak to me gently or curse me,
Seek me or fly from my sight;
I am thy fool in the morning,
Thou art my slave in the night.

Down to the grave will I take thee,
Out from the noise of the strife;
Then shalt thou see me and know me—
Death, then, no longer, but life.

Then shalt thou sing at my coming,
Kiss me with passionate breath,
Clasp me and smile to have thought me
Aught save the foeman of Death.

Come to me, brother, when weary,
Come when thy lonely heart swells;
I’ll guide thy footsteps and lead thee
Down where the Dream Woman dwells.

By Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872–1906)
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6226 Feb 21, 2013
I went out to the woods to-day



To hide away from you,



From you a thousand miles away—



But you came, too.





And yet the old dull thought would stray,



And all my heart benumb—



If you were but a mile away



You would not come......

and now I hope you'll stay away !
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6227 Feb 21, 2013
IN a dark hour, tasting the Earth.



As I lay on my couch in the muffled night, and the rain lashed my window,


And my forsaken heart would give me no rest, no pause and no peace,



Though I turned my face far from the wailing of my bereavement....



Then I said: I will eat of this sorrow to its last shred,



I will take it unto me utterly,



I will see if I be not strong enough to contain it....



What do I fear? Discomfort?



How can it hurt me, this bitterness?



The miracle, then!



Turning toward it, and giving up to it,



I found it deeper than my own self....



O dark great mother-globe so close beneath me...



It was she with her inexhaustible grief,



Ages of blood-drenched jungles, and the smoking of craters, and the roar of tempests,



And moan of the forsaken seas,



It was she with the hills beginning to walk in the shapes of the dark-hearted animals,



It was she risen, dashing away tears and praying to dumb skies, in the pomp-crumbling tragedy of man...



It was she, container of all griefs, and the buried dust of broken hearts,



Cry of the christs and the lovers and the child-stripped mothers,



And ambition gone down to defeat, and the battle overborne,



And the dreams that have no waking....




My heart became her ancient heart:



On the food of the strong I fed, on dark strange life itself:



Wisdom-giving and sombre with the unremitting love of ages....



There was dank soil in my mouth,


And bitter sea on my lips,



In a dark hour, tasting the Earth.

by James Oppenheim.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6230 Feb 21, 2013
I asked the heaven of stars
What I should give my love—
It answered me with silence,
Silence above.


I asked the darkened sea
Down where the fishes go—
It answered me with silence,
Silence below.


Oh, I could give her weeping,
Or I could give her song—
But how can I give silence
My whole life long?
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#6231 Feb 21, 2013
AKA - Trish wrote:
<quoted text>
Please may I ask you? What is Euchured?
Please may I ask you another one?
Do any of those you mention by their first name for which
most of us are not aware,,, do they mind you doing this?
Hope you are well. I know I told you I wouldn't enter this
thread again publically,,, I didn't know what might go on
and I'm not very good and allowing my NAME to be TRASHED.
I've learned MUCH and YOU've taught me SOME of that. I wish
you only the best ... BELIEVE IT OR NOT,,, it matters NOT.
Peace Regardless
:)
David your pathetic charade has gone on long enough.

We all know who you are....and who you are NOT !

go away and anoy Laura-Beth like you used to, before you "Tried" to nail me......

I never let on I knew who you were all along.....but now I see just what you're trying to do, I feel it's time I spoke out about your intentions here once again.

Don't bother....I'm not interested in playing your games.

I hope this serves as a warning to anyone else who is about to take YOU at "face value"........one word.....BEWARE
Toilet Training

United States

#6233 Feb 21, 2013
Mia LeNora wrote:
Uh-oh !
Did you crap your pants again, dude?

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#6242 Feb 21, 2013
AKA - Trish wrote:
CYC - you just never know who is being PLAYED.
You think you've got it all figured out do ya?
Really, who told YA? That aught to be a good one.
Please do share,,, don't be shy miss.
What do you believe? Want to PLAY public with me
and Private with that guy??? Good Luck with that.
What about all the others he's stalking now?
Do you know their first names to?
I sure did go to a lot of trouble didn't I to hook you in? Think about it dear. Told you you were WRONG,,, I just had no idea how BAD it was. BE SAFE... I told you you were the strong one. I didn't LIE.
I am a Forensic Psychologist

You did not seek me out. It was I who sought you. Now I am off to my next adventure.

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#6243 Feb 21, 2013
BTW- Very good Soap Opera:) Touche'

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#6246 Feb 21, 2013
AKA - Trish wrote:
<quoted text>
Well Played. Does that mean the game really is over now?
You are a player as well and if you think anyone saw it different
you are more brilliant than the poet that steals your poetry.
Peace Regardless ... the idea was to prevent others from becoming
LAURA BETH. The poor pathetic lil' thing didn't get to give such great
medical advice without first being taught.
Remember she came after you too. I didn't send her your way. I spoke out
on your behalf. Oh, did I hurt your feelings. GOOD,,, hope you learned something as you sought me out. Good Day Mate
No my feelings were never hurt. I care not that she came after me, As you said-it is a game is it not?

BTW-my sister says hello:)

The game is never over. It merely goes on with different players.

I applaud you. If I had an opening at my office I would offer you a job my beautiful friend.

Laura Beth

Since: Aug 09

Location hidden

#6247 Feb 21, 2013
Oh my God this is some weird azz shite . WTD are you on ? Take another one whatever it is .... I'm laughing my azz off . Freaking weirdo !!!

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#6248 Feb 21, 2013
Laura Beth wrote:
Oh my God this is some weird azz shite . WTD are you on ? Take another one whatever it is .... I'm laughing my azz off . Freaking weirdo !!!
I tried to remove you from the equation but you persisted LB. You must know that I could not have manage to wrap up this soap opera without you.

So in the end YOU were key in the final scene.

Thank You

I do suggest however-that you question the motivation that kept you engaged in the soap opera.

It is there where YOU should begin lest you make the same mistake twice.

Motivation is the key component to all behavior.

The function of behavior:

Attention Seeking

Escape and Avoidance

Sensory

Tangible

Power and Revenge

These functions are universal and every individual is driven by one or the other.

You will find your behavior driven by one of the aforementioned.

While I know the motivation (as you can have a primary motivation and a secondary motivation) of your behavior I will not write them here for everyone to see.
New Deli

United States

#6249 Feb 21, 2013
Sounds like SPAM to me. Almost as bad as that simpleton and his plagiarized poems.

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#6251 Feb 21, 2013
Ex.

Let us take the motivation of Tangible

Which can be described by the following scenario:

A mother and her five year old stands at the grocery market check out.

The child over and over again asks for a candy bar
The mother ignores the request and digs through her wallet for her coupons.

The child becomes louder with his or her request. The mother asks the child to be quite.

The child is now pulling at her skirt-throwing a fit asking over and over for a candy bar.

His motivation for the behavior is Tangible. He wants that candy bar!

Whether the mother gets him the candy bar at this point will have the potential to reinforce his behavior which is an entire other subject.

Another EX.

The addict is an addict to escape and avoid. He is reinforced when he/she takes drugs.

Why?

Because the behavior is reinforced with exactly what the addicted sought which was escape.

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