Best Busyness Poems
A solitary man
I make my way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life I know further and further behind
I wish to be alone
away from the busyness
the incessant noise
my many responsibilities
life’s never ending activities
work that is never done
all of life’s many conflicts
I reach the top
sit down and cross my legs
As I look out at the landscape
my village is a small mass of thatched roofs
the people barely seeable
I see smoke rising from a central fire
wondering if I will be missed
From this distance the lake appears so small
I imagine it fitting into a wooden spoon
The horizon surrounds me
stretching my eyes
distracting me from the pebbles beneath me
blades of grass are now myopically large
I watch as the ants toil
Are our lives not the same?
Seasons change
Summer to fall
Winter to spring
I witness it all
My beard lengthens as my mind enlarges
Secrets have been revealed
Disconnected yet I am a part of all
I grow downward into the ground
Others come to the mountain top
seeking wisdom
They sit with me for a while
never staying long
Each takes from me so that they may give
I am a man transformed
Arms outstretched reaching to all the horizons
covered with foliage
The seasons continue to change
I send my leaves down to the village
beconing them to come to the mountain
no longer do I want to be alone
"Come sit beneath my branches
caress my bark smell my scent
know my soul."
You come to the mountain top
But I am no longer able to audibly speak
All that I know resides in the rings of my seasons
Still you partake of my wisdom
Putting your ear to my trunk
You can hear my lonely heart beat
aware of my breath whistling through leather like leaves
I attach my seeds to your woolen coat
You are a solitary man
making your way down from the mountain
One step at a time
Closer and closer to our village
To the ones you love
As you walk through the village you shake your coat
Seeds fall on the fertile ground
Finally I have come home...
I forgot about you,
but I don't remember when.
With all the thoughts inscribed to you,
I once had to chase the pen.
My mind's now like an empty gas tank.
Oh, the roads we traveled... I can't get there.
The dedication page is blank,
because I can't remember what or where.
With all the adventures lived without you
and every brand new start,
with life otherwise filled, now I doubt you
ever existed in my heart.
Senility is what gets me through
each memory from beginning to end.
I forgot about you,
but I don't remember when.
As much time you can get
In the middle of busyness
Keep away the anger and arrogance
And fill your life with a smile.
I don't understand where good and bad
Whatever God does, He does for good
I know this and accept this
For He is the source of all goodness.
I know I have to go one day
But why make a push so late
Let's go faraway crossing the road
To the temple of Wife's Loth Temple.
Today is the last Monday of the year
Let's celebrate with good festive mood
Prepare food that would make you healthy
And welcome the New Year with a good bang.
Looking intp the vast algorithmic wilderness we begin our search for truth...
For in this chaos of digital existence for we navigate
the maze of virtual connections seeking answers in the
pixels that....
form our fragmented identities.
Yet, amid the ceaseless chase for productivity we grapple...
with the paradox of busyness wondering if our
worth is measured
by our output or...
our ability to simply be.
In the era of constant comparison for we confront the...
existential dread of inadequacy haunted by
curated lives on screens...
that mirror our own
distorted reflections.
Beneath the surface of superficial interactions for we crave
for genuine connection searching for
authenticity in a world...
where masks are
worn as shields...
against vulnerability.
Surrounded by the droning of voices clamoring for...
attention we struggle
to find our own among the noise
craving moments of silence...
to hear the wisdom in
the wind of our true selves.
In the face of ecological devastation for we grapple with...
our role as stewards of the earth, questioning
the meaning of progress...
in a world on the
brink of potential collapse.
Against the backdrop of societal...
polarization for we confront
the existential challenge of empathy
while wondering if
compassion can bridge the chasms...
that divide us or
if we are destined...
to remain adrift in a sea of discord.
And in the end, the finality...
we finally realize the journey
was the destination all along...
Manger Shadow
A shadow lurks behind the manger bed
Swaddled by indifference,
Creeping behind
Lowing cows
And
Bleating sheep,
Power without power raising up a hoary head
While in vanity dim shades attempt to weave
A gloomy thread into the scent
Of frankincense
And
Myrrh;
Endeavoring to cover ears of prophecy,
Encouraging ignorance
With busyness in crowded streets
Of travelers taxed,
Bowed down with burdens;
No Gloria’s heaven sent
As shadows pass in front of starlight
On highways straight
Deserts wild
Mountains leveled
And star-struck strangers
Asking only for directions;
Where flowers,
Blooming in the wilderness,
Lay trampled
Beneath pilgrim’s feet;
Trying to drown out
Amen
And
In Excelsis Deo
Shouted out in triumph
To wide eyes
Keeping watch
Beneath olive trees
Rather
Longing to smother a baby’s breath
With a snarl,
Rejoicing only in the anticipated silence;
To leave no room at the inn
For goodwill
Or
Shalom Eternal
Yet cower in a nightmare’s chaos,
Breath held in,
For a kingdom lost by victory
Already claimed;
Futility, the unwelcomed guest,
Birthing fury
That pounds upon the chest of truth,
Stalking the Word protected
By holiness,
Claiming dice unfairly loaded
To howl
In rage
As justice and as peace now kiss –
As swords and spears
Rise up
As plows and pruning hooks
To tend the vineyard of the King
Then sing out the great glad tidings
On a mountaintop
Where people walk out of darkness
Into light.
Wisdom Tree
A solitary man
Makes his way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life he knows further and further behind
He wishes to be alone
Away from the busyness
The noise
Responsibility
Activity
Work that is never done
Conflict
The need to be in control
He reaches the mountain top
Sits down and crosses his legs
He looks out at the landscape
His village a small mass of thatched roofs
People unseeable
Smoke rises from a central fire
The lake so small
it looks like it can fit into a wooden spoon
The horizon surrounds him
He feels the pebbles beneath him
Blades of grass are myopically large
He watches as the ants toil
Are their lives not the same?
Seasons change
Summer to fall
winter to spring
He witnesses it all
His beard lengthened
As his mind enlarged
Secrets have been revealed
He’s disconnected yet part of all
The base of him grows into the ground
Others journey to the mountain top
Seeking his wisdom
They sit with him for a while
Never staying for long
Each person takes so that they may give
The wise man transformed
Arms outstretched
reaching to all the horizons
Now covered with leaves
The seasons continue to change
He sends his leaves down to the village
Beckoning them to the mountain
Not wanting to be alone
"Come sit beneath my branches
caress my bark smell my scent
know my soul."
He’s no longer is able to speak
All that he knows
resides in the rings of his seasons
Still he offers wisdom
Put your ear to his trunk
You can still hear his heart beat
His breath whistles through the leaves
His seeds cover your woolen coat
You are a solitary man
making your way down the mountain
One step at a time
Closer and closer to your village
To the ones you love
As you walk through the village
you shake the seeds off your coat
They fall on the fertile ground
The wise man
has finally come home.
Did our Age of Aquarius evaporate,
fail to regenerate,
to resonate,
fall too far short of what our parents
knew we should anticipate?
Free love could not sustain
weak non-violent resolutions against
whatever busyness was for.
Yet, if love invites synergy,
mutual gravity,
and creation evokes compassion's transregeneration,
how could love cost more than free?
How could co-redemption not invest everything
in learning how to cooperatively Be,
free of enslaving supremacist becoming,
free to come together
as ecological We?
Those who stop to count these costs of love,
look for ways to divest of co-investment,
ignoring Earth's mentoring economy
of light's photosynthetic comprehension,
of neutral's dark unconsciousness,
a fog bank evaporating
doubly unbinding timeless spaciousnest
patterned mystery
absent of color
flowing free love intention.
If Time's eternal unfolding presence is 0-dimensional,
and AnthroNature's bicameral perception i
s 2-dimensional line
and 4-dimensioned time
recreating bicameral form with function,
ego emerging from eco,
yang incarnating binomial yintegrity
reiterating communicating neuro-processors
borrow RNA's decomposing 3-space with 1-time prime bilateral dimensions,
equivalent seasons;
Shy winterish Uracil of Universal freely decomposing love
greets Cytosine's full summer-formed regeneration,
as objectives greet their past and future subjects;
while Adenine painlessly springs
for Guanine's lavishly com-posted integrative harvest,
as verbs form fractal-recycling nouns,
verbal con-science revolutions,
relearning Earth's organic language,
by echoing universal polypathic syntax.
Universal Anthro-cultural
verbal power of co-governance
becomes a Left-brained dominant and reductive tyrant,
an Emperor reified of clothes
to cool His naked Ego-thirst.
However,
when power remains integral within co-passionate
climatic health,
co-gravitational integrity of wealth,
synergetic uniting cooperatism,
then naked 1-power conjoins dark yin-time 0-rations,
shy bigendering romantic convex/concave camouflage,
re-birthing this post-millennial
gift-it-forward
Age of co-binary Aquarius.
i step outside of myself,
into a world, a world where everything around me is nothing,
and the only true thing that still stands left is my one true God,
what is real,
what is fake,
i abide in love for his names sake,
my eyes are shattered,
and my vision blurred,
only parts of my spirit here on earth to be stirred,
i cannot grasp the immense enormity of my master,
still i love, still i hurt, to know more,
the depth of his love, marked in stone, i am sure,
my own way is not his way,
in solitude and in prayer with him at the end of my day,
as busyness and chaos take up my time,
thoughts of unwanted circumstance fills my mind,
i must release,
i must unfold,
here, everything on earth is nothing when it comes to my soul,
my love for you, Lord, is truly what matters,
through fears and tribulations, or when life seems shattered,
there is a private joy,
a very private real God,
who swoops me up into his arms, when life gets too hard,
as i loose focus for a moment, he gently embraces me,
what feels real here on earth is only what our eyes choose to see,
some pages are still emptly, he said, let me write in your book,
for there will be no need to search, there will be no need to look,
my god accomplishes the impossible,
using pain to bring me healing,
allowing rejection to restore my acceptance,
i cannot understand such irony, while the lord writes the script of this play,
his words fill my spirit, and he'll instruct me what to say,
so i sit back and observe with an open heart,
for god knows my charactor, and he plays the main part,
this part, this love that will never cease to die,
the greatest love of my heart,
the greatest man of my life
I don’t want to miss you
So don't make me...
Just to prove a point
To Fulfill a need
There is no point or need for that
I miss you
You know it’s true
So, don’t hide behind the guise
Of busyness
The hide and seek neediness
Of your heart
For affirmation's seal
I miss you
Let it be enough
Don’t ask the whys or wherefores
Of what that all means
It seems
It’s just the way it is
Essential entity to me
I miss you
Just let it be
Just bask in the knowledge
In the serenity and sweet simplicity
Of this truth
I miss you…
I do
Eileen Manassian
Brain scans
A brain scan is viewed
and seems to record
the busyness of a brain
most independent and active..
A brain viewed as creator
with the scan recording the
colors and shapes..as this
electrical flesh originates our
minds and our lives..
However..we are invited to pause
and experience a revolution..
a revolution of reversal:
a top-down point of view replacing
an old and worn bottom-up..
Consciousness-only is napping
and dreaming of you and me
as we live our bottom-up lives..
on a promising day..a new
point of view finally dawns:
top-down is a gift of freedom..
we are shocked to find that
we are the one napping
and dreaming of breakfast and
jewels and brain scans...
~CC
Your Master’s righteous cloak is not
a bold retreat from evil’s plot.
In peaceful times and in discord,
You shall know that I am the Lord.
In busyness or when you’re bored,
in argument or in accord,
in health or in a hospice ward --
You shall know that I am the Lord.
Noah, a man, perfect and just,
built the ark displaying his trust
in full view of a mocking horde.
You shall know that I am the Lord.
Daniel, confident, skilled and wise,
kept on praying without disguise,
sentenced by a conniving board.
You shall know that I am the Lord.
Job, upright, blameless, God-fearing,
endured his friends’ steadfast jeering,
the goad to curse God, he ignored.
You shall know that I am the Lord.
These three, Noah, Daniel, and Job,
God, deemed righteousness as their robe.
Thru famine, wild beast, plague, and sword,
You shall know that I am the Lord.
Ezekiel 14: 12-23
The repeated phrase is used some 50 times in Ezekiel.
It's been awhile
I miss you my dear friend
How are you?
Do you still laugh with your heart?
Do you still play that game??
Maybe not, maybe yes
I don't know
We haven't talked for awhile
I hope you still do
Because i still do
It reminds me of us
Separated by the pacifics and the antlantics of life
We haven't seen each other
Somewhere in the callousness of technology, i lost your contacts
Somewhere in the busyness of our lives
It started to fade
Marriages, separations, divorces
Children, jobs etc
I don't know, too much
Too much pain
How's your pain?
Last time we talked, you were dating this guy that you weren't sure about
You loved him, he said he loved you too
But he had a kid out there
During your courtship
A dilemma
A nightmare
I wish you were close by
I wish i was close
So we can share box of tissues
And heal through life together
I miss you even more
I love you even more
Hopefully through the canoes and the ships of life
We will meet again
We will be
Wishing I could be anywhere but right here,
On a dream bathed with barley and low lined cloud.
Relishing nature's eagerness to endear,
Leaving the busyness and roar of the crowd,
Delighting in vast small grain fields freshly plowed.
Ceasing to care of expectations once placed,
Rising only to meet the next mallard called.
Unfathomable desolation embraced,
In fresh cut grain stubble fields with decoys sprawled.
Sightseeing along a section line road, not showing on any of a map,
Expecting Fall’s migration to explode, with a north Canadian cold snap
Acrostic World Cruise Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw
10/06/17
When did business ethics
find roots in science
rather than re-connecting
humane re-ligion?
Thereby exempting,
divorcing,
earning a merely fair
and acceptable free economic pass
to continue extraction
exploitation
to build corporate empires
divorced from religion's incorporated
GoldenRule win/win ethics,
Including
family fair play
of sacrificially co-redemptive moral values
on altars of messianic
bodhisattva sacred smoke
and self/other co-reflective mirrors
Meming little everyday issue miming,
like don't neglect our long-term health care planet,
Like take care of our homes
and local communities
so we, together,
can continue keeping each Other
healthy and safe.
How alarmingly Old Indigenous School
it feels to interdependently belong
to green matriarchal
DNA regenerative systemic roots
of habitual healthy instincts
Sensory and sexual
re-connecting
re-ligioning
vocational secularized sacred employments
In cooperative wise gratitude
for MotherEarth's naturally enspirited
enlightened
empowering regenerative
ecofeminist
green graced bowing attitude
Positive
and cooperative
nonzero-emergent
polycultural
WinEgo to Win EcoSystemic health/wealth climates
of resilient integrity
Rooted in sacred Right hemispheres
and cooperatively regifted
in co-empathic secular co-arisings
Heaven's Light uprising brings
and rebrings,
turns
and returns day
and night
Earth's health-powered
ReSalvific ClimateJustice
Which, to my left hemisphere,
is all about careful autonomous control
and scrupulously quantitative best
NonZeroSum cooperatively owned emergence
toward inclusive multicultural planning
for WholeEarth health/wealth
optimization
To which my right hemisphere responds
looking for healthier four-square lyrical fond
of some things hoping for a miraculous beat,
comfortable with seasonal reasoned rhythms repeat
not quite so hopelessly white patterned arches
resting on male privileged marches
Busyness roots in monetized science
thereby left hemisphere exempting artistic
everyday eco-political experience
from GoldenRule expiring
Win/Win re-connecting
re-ligioning EarthDay
natural/spiritual cooperative
co-invested polyculturing ethics.
To Pen a Poem
I used to think in rhythm and rhyme
It plagued the very heart of me
I could not walk or look or sit
My thoughts collected
And to meter they would fit
My mind would wander in
multicolored hues
I looked at life from
a different view
Time marched in and busyness came
My time for poetry seemed to wane
Eventually the passion it did leave
But the healing power that
I did need
I found it
when I
didn’t see
so much emotion inside of me
So much the gift I was given
To heal a heart in rhyme and rhythm
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