Unincorporated Insights V
For what reason do we speak un-freely,
Relegating ourselves to elision?
Our motives are spoken clandestinely,
Enshrouded by baseless omission.
As zombie hoards packed in a ballet box,
Groaning for a persona non grata,
Our disheveled culture carelessly stocks
Its thoughts of banal desiderata.
We replace facts with comforts and patterns.
We substitute our fate for the future—
Devoured like the many sons of Saturn,
Relinquishing our delineature.
We dismantle our bloodlines and unions,
Cauterized by divergent opinions.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Unincorporated Insights
What context contributes toward meaning?
What illusive patterns outline our thoughts?
What process prevents mindless careening
Into tangles of intangible knots—
Into the depths of deeply-rooted seeds
Of imponderable definition?
And what flower does theodicy breed
By the threat of holistic omission?
What cryptic mysteries do we express,
Though in traces of vagrant memories—
Perhaps causing us to hide and repress
Them beneath our transient reveries?
What codex—so voiceless—do we create?
What emergent grammar elucidates?
What emergent grammar elucidates
The syntax of our juxtaposition?
Why must we meander and gravitate
Toward the pull of blank exposition?
We speak in indefinite articles,
Communicating as a formality?
Our dreams are overlapping particles,
Transposed over strips of reality.
Our intellects are woven by conflict,
Disproportionate threads that braid our lives.
Ideas coalesce to contradict
Where what we call logic attempts to thrive.
We design ignorance, always preening
The language that has been intervening.
The language that has been intervening
Interrupts the words we would like to say,
Mercilessly and stringently cleaning
Our voice, removing what viewpoints convey.
Therefore, we conjure the chiffon lexis:
A vagary of coded expressions
That dilute our colloquial axis—
Our terminology of discretion.
We relinquish comprehension and
Dilapidate whatever we might learn
In the grip of the Invisible Hand
Which guides us to our tenuous concerns.
All the while, idiocy saturates
With our illocutionary mandates.
With our illocutionary mandates,
Why does anyone make sense anymore?
Verbally, our tongue only translates
All the talk that has been spoken before.
We erase our culture with social platforms.
Our lives are forced to conform to the contours
That more often confuse or misinform—
Drawing images we ought to ignore.
We are bound to the art of artlessness,
Secured to an emptiness that lingers—
Taught that obsession will lead to success,
Explaining ourselves through index fingers
That point to nowhere (nowhere completely) .
For what reason do we speak un-freely?
For what reason do we speak un-freely,
Relegating ourselves to elision?
Our motives are spoken clandestinely,
Enshrouded by baseless omission.
As zombie hoards packed in a ballet box,
Groaning for a persona non grata,
Our disheveled culture carelessly stocks
Its thoughts of banal desiderata.
We replace facts with comforts and patterns.
We substitute our fate for the future—
Devoured like the many sons of Saturn,
Relinquishing our delineature.
We dismantle our bloodlines and unions,
Cauterized by divergent opinions.
Cauterized by divergent opinions,
We remain stagnant as our lives progress,
Similar to the hipolimnion—
With its waters still, aching to express.
The erumpent and sluicing fluids
Of understanding and dialectics
Flow in a stymied, wholly languid
Way when we need something apoplectic,
Something fluttering with violence and
Roaring with rage and swooning with romance.
Let us not pretend that we understand.
Let us be carried away as the advance
Cavalcades, washing out redundancy.
Are we blinded by irrelevancy?
Are we blinded by irrelevancy?
Do our apotropaic impulses
Blacken our natural radiancy,
Fading each ray of light as it pulses?
Why do we sous rature our honesty? —
Filtering it through the media's veil,
Fearing the release and the amnesty
We want, letting resignation prevail.
Why do we design newer deities
That deafen the voices that long to speak?
Why not relieve pressing anxieties
And articulate meaningful critiques?
There is no reason to be a minion
In the realm of persuasive dominion.
In the realm of persuasive dominion,
We are grinding in mechanized fittings,
Smashing in the roll of pressing pinions,
Watching as our heads— crushing and splitting—
Massage into a rouge polish for gears.
Our thoughts slowly gloss over orange rust—
Now crusting with our suppurated smears—
As the accruements shift and readjust.
Why do we pancake our skin and our bones,
Flattening our pursuits and our passions?
Why melt each other to produce clones
Portioned to consume commodity rations?
As we instill and install these values,
Fallacies that we believe in argue.
Fallacies that we believe in argue,
Challenging each other—conflicting lies.
Veracity wallows out of our view—
In either a subterfuge or disguise.
We become confused, trying to translate
The coded hieroglyphics that carom
Over lofty expectations— to spate
Our process like a gyrating maelstrom.
Glabrous, fulgurated electrical
Strikes beam through the core of the whirling storm,
And the skies rain an antithetical
Slathering as the dry climates deform.
The weather is forced— through harsh coercion—
By the Holy right of their assertions.
By the Holy right of their assertions,
We permit more for a selective few—
The few that would live by their dispersion;
The few that dispel, for others, virtue;
The few that show an eidetic éclat
In our too-nictitated memories;
The few preaching their secular Salat,
So that we may bow to their glories.
By the Holy right of economics,
We accept their pure Word as Biblical,
Building pietistic ergonomics
That subsidize on the unnatural.
They pardon their afflatus as it spews,
Disseminating what is maybe true.
Disseminating what is maybe true
Causes us to scatter ourselves like seeds.
Our promulgating ideals will strew
Themselves, rooting within our pseudo-needs.
We watch them knot and snarl beneath our feet,
Disheveling the ground on which we stand.
We watch the branches, gnarling with conceit,
Above our heads as they shadow our land.
We watch the ossified stem sprouting out,
Latching onto the world with a vice-grip,
Standing firm as cement, both thick and stout,
Causing terra firma to bust and split—
And, yet, it withers by our desertion
In the hysteria of exertion.
In the hysteria of exertion,
We become moribund and bellicose—
Buoyant with undulating derision,
Palliated by a ravelment of woes.
Our muted, quiescent panic twinges,
Cascading over the peace we pretend.
Our intuition tears at its fringes
While we berserk, bicker and condescend.
The lacuna, the bedlam, the terror bursts
Like stampeding, bionic wildebeest.
We receive a chaos that seems rehearsed
Rather than a real entropy released.
As these trappings bellow in the still night,
The grays of thought trail to the blacks and whites.
The grays of thought trail to the blacks and whites
As if they were catfish crawling through dirt.
Sprawling though they are, they are out of sight,
Pressuring the mud to remain inert.
They prevent an untold calamity
By refusing to sift their skin forward,
Relaxing where there is conformity—
Though fear makes them thrash about and wayward.
Their quaking tremors of brash distemper
May break us from our rachitic foothold,
Hushing our antinomian whimpers,
Showing us that control is uncontrolled.
We tremble, not knowing we are their might,
Forming unincorporated insights.
Forming unincorporated insights
Makes us define ourselves by dramatics,
Inundating our mind's durable lights
For the tenebrae of post-pragmatics.
Our shadows shape like parabolas
Over the structures of our ignorance.
We provide each other a blank atlas
That maps the pathways of disappearance,
Landscapes of the nervus probandi—
Whatever we have lixiviated.
We compose in dissonant glissandi,
So all notes can be asphyxiated.
The whole time we ask: What is redeeming?
What context contributes toward meaning?
What context contributes toward meaning?
What emergent grammar elucidates
The language that has been intervening
With our illocutionary mandates?
For what reason do we speak un-freely,
Cauterized by divergent opinions?
Are we blinded by irrelevancy—
In the realm of persuasive dominion?
Fallacies that we believe in argue
By the Holy right of their assertions,
Disseminating what is maybe true
In the hysteria of exertion.
The grays of thought trail to the blacks and whites,
Forming unincorporated insights.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zombie Stomp
I don't need a doctor
But I need something to kill the pain
Don't know what I'm after
But the pressure's driving me insane
Searching for a different role
Had a funny feeling I can't hide
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Why can't they just let me be
Alone without the misery
Hey, hey, do the Zombie, Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Flirting with disaster
Morning after killing me again
Hiding from the laughter
And the demons dancing round my brain
Always dancing on thin ice
I guess I'll have to pay the price
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Thinkin' how it could have been
If I had never let them in
Hey, hey, do the Zombie, Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Take me to the doctor
'Cause I feel it coming on again
Don't know where I'm going
'Cause I guess I don't know where I've been
Looking for a different ride
Always dancing on thin ice
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Thinking how it could have been
If I had never let them in
Hey, hey, do the Zombie, Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
Hey, hey, do the Zombie Stomp
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Zombie was a bunch of kids with the worst equipment playing in a basement. But that is what is so great about it. There is no reason to think that you can't do it.
quote by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zombie Zoo
All down the street they're standin' in line
With white lipstick and one thing on their mind
Hey little freak with the lunch pail purse
Underneath th e paint you're just a little girl
Dancin' at the zombie zoo, dancin' at the zombie zoo
Painted in a corner and all you wanna do
Is dance down at the zombie zoo
Cute little dropout, how come you pack a rod
Is your mother in a clinic ? has your father got no job ?
Sometimes you're so impulsive,
You shaved off all you're hair
You look like boris karloff and you don't even care
You're dancin' at the zombie zoo,
Dancin' at the zombie zoo
Painted in a corner and all you wanna do is
Dance down at the zombie zoo
She disappears at sunrise, i wonder where
She goes until the night
Comes fallin' down again
She shows up with her friends half-alive
You can make a big impression or
Go through life unseen
You might wind up restricted and over seventeen
It's so hard to be careful, so easy to be lead
Somewhere beyond the pavement
You'll find the living dead
Dancin' at the zombie zoo, dancin' at the zombie zoo
Painted in a corner and all you wanna do
Is dance down at the zombie zoo
Yeah dancin at the zombie zoo
Yeah dancin at the zombie zoo
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am the Internet zombie
I am the Internet zombie
I have no heart
Because no-one
Talks to me
I have no ears
My hands are out
In front of me
Com Zombie
I do not like sky
Or fresh air
Just the bright screen
In front of me
I am the Internet zombie
I do not eat
I do not leave
My office bedroom
I do not sleep
Instead I zzz the screen
Just read me
I am the Internet zombie
poem by Harriet James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Zombie's Misfortune
A zombie stopped
by the castle
on a rainy day
A day when I
was all alone
My father
the beloved king
was far away
Away on king's
business
An encounter
with a zombie
can be
nerve wracking
or even
heart stopping
But with my
unlimited supply
of arsenals
It can be
earth shattering
for the zombie
who crosses my path
For the zombie
of creepville
I will use my
high voltage gun
For zombies
are the hardest
to kill
My plan was
a success
Peace reigned
in the kingdom
My father
came home
to a well
deserved feast
poem by Rachel Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unincorporated Insights IV
With our illocutionary mandates,
Why does anyone make sense anymore?
Verbally, our tongue only translates
All the talk that has been spoken before.
We erase our culture with social platforms.
Our lives are forced to conform to the contours
That more often confuse or misinform—
Drawing images we ought to ignore.
We are bound to the art of artlessness,
Secured to an emptiness that lingers—
Taught that obsession will lead to success,
Explaining ourselves through index fingers
That point to nowhere (nowhere completely) .
For what reason do we speak un-freely?
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zombie In The Rain
My eyes are blank and empty
And I am not sane
My soul is empty also
I'm a zombie in the rain.
I'm not feeling anything
Tho my body is in pain
I just don't give a damn
I'm a zombie in the rain.
I could freeze and not know it
My body is on the wane
I'm empty and don't realize
I'm a zombie in the rain.
The is no future for me
Only a cessation of pain
I don't feel it anyway
I'm a zombie in the rain.
poem by Don W. Davidson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zombie Zoo
Tom petty
All down the street they're standin in line
With white lipstick and one thing on their mind
Hey little freak with the lunch pail purse
Underneath the paint you're just a little girl
Dancin at the zombie zoo, dancin at the zombie zoo
Painted in a corner and all you wanna do
Is dance down at the zombie zoo
Cute little dropout, how come you pack a rod?
Is your mother in a clinic? has your father got no job?
Sometimes you're so impulsive you shaved off all your hair
You look like boris karloff and you don't even care
You're dancin at the zombie zoo dancin at the zombie zoo
She disappears at sunrise, i wonder where she goes until
The night comes fallin down again she shows
Up with her friends half-alive
You can make a big impression or go through life unseen
You might wind up restricted and over seventeen
It's so hard to be careful, so easy to be led
Somewhere beyond the pavement you'll find the living dead
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Do You Speak To An Angel
A son who is cursed with a harridan mother
Or a weak simpering father at best
Is raised to play out the timeless classical motives
Of filial love and incest
How does he speak to a
How does he speak to the prettiest girl
How does he talk to her
What does he say for an opening line
What does he say if hes shy
What do you do with your pragmatic passions
With your classically neurotic style
How do you deal with your vague self-comprehensions
What do you do when you lie
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
How do you speak to her
How do you dance on the head of a pin
When youre on the outside looking in
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
How do you speak to a
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
You just say, hello, (hello) baby (hello)
...
Baby, angel, how do you talk to the prettiest girl, you say
Hello baby, hello baby, angel, angel, pretty little girl
Angel, angel ....
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm obsessed with zombies. I like watching zombie movies and I read zombie books.
quote by Kevin Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zombie
Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken
But you see it's not me,
it's not my family
In your head, in your
head they are fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head,
In your head they are cryin'
In your head
Zombie
What's in your head, in your head
Zombie
Another mother's breakin'
heart is taking over
when the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken
It's the same old theme since 1916
In your head,
In your head they're still fightin'
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head they are dyin'
In your head, in your head
Zombie
What's in your head, in your head
Zombie
song performed by by Cranberries
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How To Make A Monster
She freak out at a damaged life like a jailbait in the park
A teenage wolf with a bloody knife going down in the dark
How to make a monster baby, how to get it on
How to make a monster baby, how to get it on
Go go zombie, go go yeah, yeah, yeah
Go go zombie, go go yeah, yeah, yeah
Roots in hell and time will tell if your baby is insane
A child bride with bloody eyes got satan on the brain
How to make a monster baby, how to get it on
How to make a monster baby, how to get it on
Go go zombie, go go yeah, yeah, yeah
Go go zombie, go go yeah, yeah, yeah
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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31
Elizabeth Daily, Torsten Voges, Malcolm McDowell, Sheri Moon Zombie, Sandra Rosko, Richard Brake, Meg Foster, Daniel Roebuck, Tracey Walter
by Rob Zombie from 31 (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Love....
i love...
that's the reason i walk,
the reason i breathe.
the reason i grieve.
the reason i dance.
the reason i smile.
the reason i listen.
the reason i offer a hand.
the reason i see beauty.
the reason i see both darkness,
and light....
the reason i take chances.
the reason i keep going.
the reason i get angry.
the reason i forgive.
the reason i touch.
the reason i question.
the reason i believe.
the reason i am tolerant.
the reason i understand.
the reason i fall.
the reason i fly.
the reason i write...
the reason i am what i am!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hip Albatross
(low rumbling of helicopters
(Clip from Day of the Dead) Every dead body
that is not exterminated becomes
one of them; it gets up and kills!
The people it kills get up and kill!
(zombie sounds and a woman moaning)
(gunshots)
I-I-I-I was born a zombie, on mercury, by the sea
I-I-I-I was born a zombie, on mercury, by the seeeee
-eeeaaahh-aiie...
(Clip from Day of the Dead) Yah-hah,
yah I got a us an idea, lets get in that ol' whirlybird
there, find us an island someplace, get greased
up,and spend what time we got left soakin' up some sunshine!
How's that?
song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Good Reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Like a thief youve stolen
Like rain on a grave
Like a priest whos spoken
But failed to save
Now the air is empty
And the ground the same
Love has gone to be buried
Beside my name
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Why couldnt you have told me
About your liars kiss
I cant believe youd leave me
At a time like this
And the wind is howling
And its a dying dream
And my faith is silent
While my doubts scream
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yourself
T‘is to yourself I speak; you cannot know
Him whom I call in speaking such a one,
For you beneath the earth lie buried low,
Which he, alone, as living walks upon.
You may at times have heard him speak to you,
And often wished perchance that you were he;
And I must ever wish that it were true,
For then you could hold fellowship with me:
But now you hear us talk as strangers, met
Above the room wherein you lie abed;
A word perhaps loud spoken you may get,
Or hear our feet when heavily they tread;
But he who speaks, or he who’s spoken to,
Must both remain as strangers still to you.
poem by Jones Very
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I went away when I was 9 to a ballet school. I thought I wanted to be a dancer, but eight years of ballet cured me of that.
quote by Juliet Mills
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sins Of Omission
On the fringes of torso and lips
Straining to hear the voice of gospel choir
Pummelled plains and beaten fields
Were never broken in spirit within
But I feel like were coming around
Yes, I feel like were coming around
Tell me
Cloud burst teeming, insect wave and bite
Yes its true, we are not alone
Tv silence its a narrow entrance
Its a sometimes leading into future time
But I feel like were coming around
Yes, I feel like were coming around
I feel like were coming around
Sins of omission, no love
Sins of omission
I heard it once before in shepherds isolation
Over the horizon in blue and white now, now
Now overcome you can outrun it
When the roarings cease and the right stuff weaves and fits into your life
And I feel like were coming around
Yes I feel like Im coming around, tell me
Sins of omission, no love
Sins
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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