Alarmingly Poems | Examples

The Bee in the Garden

                       My three-year-old son stood next to me

                        as I watered our garden of flowers

                          The zinnias nodded their blossoms

                      As if grateful for garden hose showers

                     A firework array, was that garden display               

                                Of pinks, yellows, orange, 

                                       Purple, red

                      When my son asked the cutest of

                                 Questions to me

                        In the darlingest way ever said

                     As he eyed that large bumbling bee

                 That he found alarmingly too close to me

                Not quite in fear, as its buzzing drew near

                     And it sampled of pollens so dear

              But at his first sight of that yellow bright fuzz 

          And the loud droning volume of that giant bee's buzz
            
                    He just needed to know all was right
                 
                                      He asked

                    "Mommy? Do humming bee's bite?"

A Wilderness of Mirrors

I wake up in a room full of mirrors,
a funhouse of distortion
where reality is blurred.
I gasp, for in one of the mirrors,
I see a young version of me—
rocking and singing a lullaby
to my newborn baby girl,
with a full head of dark hair.
By my side, a little boy with blue eyes and blond hair—
a million-dollar family.
Sighing contently, I hold them close to me.

A muffled sound—sobbing—is heard in the distance,
the sound alarmingly familiar.
The mother sobs uncontrollably,
her graying hair and lines on her face
reveal a much older version of myself,
clutching to her heart
a picture of a beautiful, brown-eyed girl with dimples.
In the mirror, she reads: RIP.

The mirror doesn’t lie.

Cataclysmic

When something cataclysmic
occurs in our life
when that curved ball is thrown
when belief is suspended
when reality gets warped
when normality
the everyday
is thrown out the window
when it feels
alarmingly
that we have 
at a molecular level
been altered
that we are no longer who we were
mere seconds ago
it is then
that we must dig deep
find those hidden reserves
engage that coping mechanism
grit ones teeth
and soldier on
is it not fortuitous
that we come with these skills 
this reserve 'chute
granted
our skills are honed and sharpened
by the mere process of being alive
but the seed
that potential to cope
comes standard
it is not an optional extra 
an add-on
we are born with the ability 
to cope with the cataclysmic
the question is
did the cataclysmic exist 
before we strolled into the picture
like wind and rain
growth and decay 
or have we created it 
all by our very own little selves.

We Came To Pass Peace

Said the Palestinians
to their Israeli neighbors
singing and dancing
karaoke on the Strip

I wish I knew
how to pursue
dual citizenship
as readily
as you

To which Israelis
responded to their Muslim neighbors
dancing in sacred dervish spirals
with songs of 40 year journeys
into We Haven't a Clue

So what shall we do?

Let's all apply
for dual citizenship
on this EarthTribal Strip

What could our governments say
to deny this sacred integral Way?

Both together
and apart
we know our governors
are not here to be our keepers
of narcissistic 
nationalistic 
and alarmingly ballistic
defense.

Our empowering folksongs
empathically resonate
with peace and love demands
for compassionate EarthTribal dance

Better religiously together
than disintegrating apart
from our karaoke on the Strip
song and dance togatherers

Descended
from ancient shepherds
dancing through inhaling
and exhaling monthly moonlight
singing under shared story stars

Sacred EarthMothers
unexpectedly 
miraculously
emerged from Black Holy Matters
with singing children
and inspirating Sabbath men.

When Tomorrow Has Nothing To Offer

Like art, hope is the cradle of life
with zeal, this cruel world
from frustration, our haunting zones
ours' are tormenting chapters untold
when tomorrow has nothing to offer
while soothing music shadow all the misery

And alarmingly ours to perish
mother nature's angry fumes
her rage great and highly infectious
without hope, fading of tomorrow's blossom
despair in rise....clued
into tomorrow's uncertainty 

such haunting, I reluctantly quit
In finality, my pen bleeds
I shall feign the smile...you perport   
as I ponder of a blank future, I dare quit

Hygiene

I've heard,
but never experienced,
that cleanliness
performs next to godliness.

I'm looking into a game theory
that mental health 
hygiene is also
not not spiritual wealth
co-mediation

Sharing
caring
riding a daily journey
from sacred newborn ideation
to ancient
dusk driven
remediation
of all self-righteousness
other-leftoutedness
felt unclean
unseen
alarmingly mean

Lack of prolifically spiritual
soul-filling 
hygiene.

If These Guys Didn'T Use the Word, Why Should I

Shakespeare found nothing esthetic about peripatetic
   Kazantzakis and Joyce found it maudlin, bathetic

Dickens and Dickinson thought it alarmingly phrenetic
   I’d use the word in my poems,     frankly it’s asyndetic*




_______________________________________________
*denoting the omission of a conjunction between two parts
  of a sentence.

Riptide

i know its going to happen
life is going to smoothly
things are alarmingly calm
doubt will seep in
for sure devils will follow
i'll get tongue tied-tripped up- hog tied
washed away in the riptide called life
while the horde dances upon the shore
cackling
"I knew ya didn't have the strength to
make it back"..
but you never walked the contours of my soul
jackass 
I've made it back to shore a thousand times before...
and I'll make it back this time 
breathing fire on the shores of your dead words
that's if the angels have not deserted me

Business As Alarmingly Usual

Business As Usual
LeftBrain dominance
is fully over-invested
in the highly suspect theory

That Patriarchal/Capitalist monocultural
monotheistic intent
is fundamental to gospel
good news creation stories
and messianic anthro/divine nondualistic narratives

In which Spiritual StraightMen protagonists
outflank
and dualistically outrank
unnatural wicked EarthFeminists.

Multimedia Blitz

Have a great birthday, Sister Nitz, 
Views alarmingly disappear; 
Time to make multimedia blitz 
Of teasers for the entire year. 

Topic: Birthday of Nitz Antiojo (March 28)

Believe It Or Not

The Munro and Corbett mountain peaks contest

Current events dictates social distancing

Squire Cavendish was expecting some protest

Twenty four paired challengers were competing

Marshalls prepared alerting the contestants

(Isolation bubbles strictly adhered to)

Reiterating the rules and enforcements

Alarmingly, a small protest did ensue

Squire’s bombastic tone and presence did inflame

As an incendiary device would exploded

Worldwide interest in the media game

Above newsworthy helicopters hovered

Now eagerly awaiting developments

Protesters in numbers increasingly spread

Mainly due to many safety infringements

Disappointed challengers away were led

9/28/20


Five words Mountain. Squire. Current. Events. Exploded.

Earthstates

Does
The White People's Republic of America
sound alarmingly familiar
yet utterly 
undemocratically wrong
for the United States of Earth?

Beneath Life

Constrained by the sober exercise of judgment,
And dignified by deliberation and privacy.
I yanked my soul out of its secret chamber, 
And held it to the mirror of my eye.

To see it like a star or moon against the sky, 
But it dwindled to alarmingly small dimensions.
Fate had turned and twisted a thousand ways,
From the standpoint of expediency.

Fumbling and stumbling in helpless incapacity,
I'm greeted with an alloyed chagrin and gloom.
Then I heard a wordless voice,
In language terse yet familiar.

It wasn't a loose and otiose statement,
Unaccustomed tears threatened my seared vision,
I'm overshadowed by a fretful anxiety,
By this innocuous thought, I'm skulking beneath life.

But if I shine brighter in life,
Reexamine fate, destiny and my artistic aptitude,
If I fail, die and remain forgotten,
Study the agonies of my conscious failure,
And remember me with this poem.

Purple Princess

My eighteen yeared daughter
living and dreaming with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,
As she grows up and out
hopes to become

"An old princess
with long purple hair
living in a GroupHome."

I'm not sure if this indicates
I did a shockingly good
or alarmingly bad
job as a thirteen-year dad
with positive therapeutic intent.

Until she smiles,
looks up at the blue-grey sky
with unimagined delight.

Waste No Time

We were friends for years
Then you alarmingly disappeared
With no notice, no warning
To my heart, it's jarring
It's pierced my inner core
I won't be seeing you anymore
We always planned to have that drink
And carry on about the good ole days
I know you're in a better place
I don't know why we stayed away
When we were kindred spirits from the start
It wasn't about the drink or my boozing
It was fear that you wouldn't deem me amusing
Reflecting after learning you're gone, we would have picked up right where we left off.
Make time for those who count
If the love was there at the onset, there will never be a doubt
Make sure those who occupy your heart
Know they're eternally loved
Before they're suddenly gone
And you are hollow, empty, vacant
Lamenting their loss
Make time for that drink
Don't sleep on it
Stew over it
Think you're not worthy
Or they no longer value you
Let that sink in
Treasure those near and dear, my friends
For the Lord's gonna call them home one day
And you can't pinpoint the time when you'll see them again

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