Best Causal Poems
"A Paris"
Jazz and ballet
White dresses
Red wine
Violin strings
Moulin dances, stories so grim
Le Bois de Vincennes
Castles under clouds of sin
Cafes with causal chatter
When after all
What does life matter?
Drowning, the words filled with laughter
By the Seine
Walking amongst insane dreams
Singing of things never to be
In Paris a fiery inferno
desires flame
up in smoke
The cadence of the knell on the wind Lord
Has folk peering from windows and doors
A reminder of fickle mortality
Peals forlornly, for whom the bell tolls
The screams of the Angels, are deafening
Those with the conscience to hear
Dark Winter, cuts colder than ice
Unfolding, the fear of all fears
Media controlled information
Has us fighting brother to brother
As the puppeteers pull on our heartstrings
An Orwellian surrogate mother
Totalitarian terror prevails
An Agenda to meet, time is flying
Denver Airports Time-capsule, historic
Egomaniacs prayers to the dying
Positions of power are key
Those appointed are elitely chosen
Merchants of Venice they’d shame
Like iniquitous embryos, frozen
World Health Organization, instruction
To quell conscientious objectors
Mouth the words of the purse-handlers credo
The beneficiaries, monied investors
The greatest good for the greatest of numbers
Bantham cries, from the crest of his pew
Utilitarian logic prevails
Though, decisions are made by the few
Get in line, live your days in your cells
As we gather the troops to protect you
Martial Law looms, incessantly closer
For your safety we’ll need to inject you
The corruptive, are those with the power
Wielding deaths sword, resolutely
Political towers of Babel
Where power corrupts absolutely
In a World of pandemic paranhoia
The essential works, deemed to be crucial
Are the implementation of towers
Beaming Signals of Sorrow, so brutal
A virus is only a name, you see
It was never a death causal factor
Electromagnetic technology
Is the key to the virul reactor
Big Brothers got one million eyes
And a chip, for to go where e’er you go
No crock of gold’s waiting out there
Hid beneath, ‘An Invisible Rainbow’
I’m a man I’m a man
I once was Jan but now I’m Stan*
I strut around posing and drink some beer
Use the gent’s toilets, now that sure feels *****
I must stand up now when I use the loo
‘Shake hands with shorty’ now that’s quite a coup
I don’t shave my legs, it’s now my chin
Got a beer gut now when once I was thin
When I go to work I wear a suit not a dress
Am not really bothered if my hair is a mess
Causal jeans show my ‘builders bum’
When I turn round you see my overhanging tum
I go out with my mates on a Friday night
Dance like a muppet – that’s quite a sight
Age old chat up lines – what a bore
Eye up the ladies oh I want to score
I truly can't envisage what its like to be male
I hope you enjoyed my tongue in cheek tale!
Jan Allison
5th May 2014
*reference to Stan comes from my poem written with Darren Watson called 'Our first meeting in the Isle of Man'
I saw Richard had placed 6th in the recent 'women only contest' so thought I would chance it too with this poem that was written for Gender Bender Contest sponsored by Richard Lamoureaux ~ Awarded 5th Place by Richard~ ~awarded 6th place by Kelly Deschler in the 'men only contest '... thank you for being a good sport Kelly!
No more labeled by one's admission
Once a man's earthly life ends in
The place waiting for some negotiation
The creator there accepts All Saints
No one would be rejected in the end
No matter the stay by willing or causal
His mercy still grant a chance for retreat
All saints will then be free back to their kin
I reckon death should name a one-way trip
Departure has to be in the east or west horizon
As sun-rise wakens eyes to look and propagate
While sun-set asks the others back to sing
Cacophonous Discord
by Odin Roark
So little of language
That’s not become clamor
Even less of actions
That have not become bluster
Still
Some of us know
Earned expectation
Knows well time’s perfection
That the causal spirit of calm
Eventually envelops a universal smile
Resulting in the arrival of trust
Even as insight remains elusive
Unlike Big Bang’s pinpoint of reality
The resultant geography of presence
Remains a vast array of elements
Sometimes evolving slowly
But always remaining patient
For the lens of discovery
How fulfilling
Life’s moments of perception
Beyond the cacophonous discord
Of background noise
Such is the reward of stillness
On the patio I can see the chameleons
Their necks so red with lust
On the wind the green parrots
Call to one another hoping for a place to rest
The sky is orange and deep purple with the last whispers of light
Twisting the orange peel in my drink thinking of how I felt
About all those days we missed, before we saw the truth
A home in the South of France with all that money could afford
Yet we were so distant like prizefighters circling in the ring
Looking for a weakness and then jabbing in for the kill
It was painful for both of us, but my God the kids
What would they have learned from such broken people?
We were once so much in love that nothing could tear us apart
Living in Jakarta in a one room windowless flat
Even that could not discourage us from a love that always bloomed
We strolled in hot humid afternoons dreaming of better days
I wiped the perspiration from your brow, you laughed in that silly way
The days tumbled by the children came, we were always so very happy
Time took its toll and jobs, like the seasons went round
Till one day we realized that we were no longer
We tried to make it work, for the sake of the kids, but it was a lost cause
Even they knew that we were hiding a truth so profound.
The lawyers came and took what they could and left us with the rest.
There was no malice between us as we smiled, resting gently
In each other arms, hoping for a miracle before we were gone.
Now, it's the morning of the rest of our lives. I ask you if you want coffee
Your look is causal as you say, “If only you had asked me that twenty years ago I would have known what to say.” And so it goes the things we forgot to ask are the things that will haunt us to the very, very end.
(thanks to KA for being so generous)
Be now normal
Make it continual and ritual
Forget the causal
Stay put not frontal
There are many things to do factual
All things you are in control
Unless fatal and impartial
Do things substantial
Mostly it will be rational
At level, reversal
Mutual, dual
Pastoral, beautiful and fruitful.
Amateur poetry season is over, move closer, its wisdoms time for disclosure,
The takeover, sober, waging raging kosher words….….. Transferred,
ABC’s with wise syntax, heard and dispersed to the brains synapse,
Jumping the gaps, from axon to dendrite with inner insight, so go write,
From higher heights, beyond the clouds drop eloquent lines departing with tips, they exist composing manuscripts,
Intrigued observers are given apprenticeships, those with zero fatigue before the apocalypse,
Deciphered divinely and discharged upon earth from moving lips,
Simpleminded unknowledgeable critic’s quick to judge, too much neurotransmitter sludge,
Rather like a Gold Rush, traveling promptly to these passages emplacement,
Filed rhymes in the uncorrupted minds location, layman’s trivial mentation left in the basement,
Inspired statements forever, the fewest few only believe, however,
Feuds with biology of belief disbelievers, conceive intellectual transgressors,
Exercising self with better endeavors, adapting to intelligence, apt genius’s,
Dextrous minds equipped with germinating seeds ridding the phoenix and exiting this world’s nexus,
Those in line are next, complex thoughts impart light to their neocortex with quantum sight and emotional arousal,
A causal relationship with special inspiration, a skill at ease for those with understanding psyches.
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 28.5.2016
The watcher sees the two sides clash,
A certain feel of conscious thought,
Yet sets things free in either dash;
No need to will or order plot.
When all is still, and two sides rest,
Watcher feels truth in simple terms,
Watch conscious fill attend the quest;
Stillness hurls proof to speed the germ.
The watcher knows what outcomes bring,
Allows the surge of variant streams,
Yet sees the show in causal fling;
No need to merge in either dream.
When silence comes to lift the dance,
Watcher knows when to swirl and twirl,
Watch grace now sum beyond mere chance;
Stillness ascends to heal the world.
The watcher sights the path and quest,
A precious now frames the sure road,
Yet both sides fight with primal fest;
No need somehow to judge or load.
When joy and play ignite fond cheer,
Watcher finds way through ecstasy,
Watch middle way inspire most clear;
Stillness funds stay with harmony.
The watcher sees beyond two sides,
A special glow when judgement ends,
Yet soul sets free beyond the tides;
The watcher knows what ego trends.
When faith and hope find love on earth,
Watcher sees tact in wondrous whole,
Watch joy flood scope in grand re-birth;
Stillness primes fact in heart and soul.
Leon Enriquez
27 February 2015
Singapore
-Once upon a time-
In the faraway cloud
Where listening lies,
Where river smiles,
When words speak
And meant to be,
Where wants and needs
Aren’t misconstrue,
Where lizards and gizzards
Wet, calm, hunt and meet and prey.
Tis by this extreme realm
That this goal is set.
One dream
One night
In all nights
Is what’s in need,
That the mission
And vision
World awaits
Will emerge.
Sacred, odd
And silence
Are night themes.
This one night
Comes a fright-
Fire outbreaks,
Catches homes
And fences.
And the news
Reaches the Mighty helm.
“I’m your lord
And is my duty
To protect,
While your right
Is to serve, me- lord”.
This leader leads
The fire extinguishers
To bring an end
To the inferno-
Where canopies
Are eating
And where sapiens
Are sentenced to death
By abrupt blaze.
Canon night meets morning
When the darkness runs
And leaves the heavens
With puffs of smoke
And burn- to-ash
Artifacts
In the arena
Of both half and fully
Baked human skins
And open skulls
And myriad of
Closed facial identities.
The King sobs,
For the Kingdom.
Calming by his chiefs
And calmly walk
To the palace;
Where his ancestors
Roam and home.
And there
He speaks and pleads
With his ancestors
On the causal of this
Unforgotten night visitor.
Then and there they
Weep while saying
For this they do not know.
Silence the king,
Paces and shivers.
At this moment
His ancestors
Turn phantoms
And stay hidden
Behind the walls.
His mother,
Thanks destiny,
Is alive-
Hale and healthy
“Do see my mother
To my Chamber now”.
For his mother
She comes and
The mother he tells.
Her one reply is
"For this, my son
I honestly don't know"……
4/2/2014
"The idea of building something once to last
tends to occur to...practical people later in life,
after they have reconstructed a few things
they thought were good enough
at the time."
David Holmgren, "Permaculture Principles and Pathways"
There is only
integrity
of each moment's potential.
We are yintegrity flow
of yang's x promise.
Where "x" equals:
Ecology, in Earth sciences
Biology, in life sciences
CoOperativity, in economic trans-actional evolutionary/devolutionary sciences
Democracy, in political sciences
Creolization, in evolutionary linguistics
Synergy, in Bucky Fuller's 0-prime fractal geometrics
Syncretism, in religious and cultural studies
Deep Learning, in pedagogical theory
Consilience, in E.O. Wilson
Bilateral Processing, in Edward DeBono
Bicameral Balance, in Julian Jaynes' ethology of anthropological history
Wisdom, in literature
Deduction, in-duction diction
ExFormation, in-formation
Reversion, in spacetime
3D causal space, in reverse temporal 4D image reflection
spiraling waves, in reiterative communication theory
feedback looping space, in two-dimensional pace
fractal bilaterals, in regenerative RNA/DNA systems
WinWin 0-sum harmony-seeking reiterations, in Game Theory
double-bindary, in digital polynomial strings of theory
double-negative thesis, in positive hypothesis
zero, in appositional dipolarity
notice, in understanding progress
value, in calculating qualitative quantities of symmetry
Golden Ratios, in Golden FlowRules
positive, in notnot
Yang, in YinSquared
Eulerian prime 0 relation, in speed of light fractal correlation, apposition
EcoLogos, in Earth's creolizing ego democratizations of YangYin Center
"See the [impatient egocentric] dark,
recognize its power,
but do not feed it."
Robin Wall Kimmerer, "Braiding Sweetgrass"
And certainly don't vote for it.
Don't even nominate it
for further self-infested powers.
like gossip, love's epidemiology
causal, a vector rampant spreading
has another uncontrolled physiology
a loving caring directional heading
love can't grow in a Petri dish
unless you're an amoeba or other cell
if agape's agar to feed, would wish
then i'd suppose it could, as well
diseased with affection and devotion
the prognosis a fortunate telling
incurable in time, your love's emotion
opportunistic transmission compelling
we could seclude with quarantine
but why would we want to isolate
and keep inside of what i mean
an infective germ so obviously great
to catch a love disease, not so good
on some picnic blanket by river of love
as catching love to be, could, would
with your desire of desires, free of
animosity for all of sentient beings
to less thinking with other leanings
hard to be unaffected when all around
everyone, everything is happily bound
one to another and each bound to all
devotedly catching incurable contagion
laughing 'til crying and having a ball
loving each other, and all civilization
what a lovely way we could live life
if we could forgive and forget our ire
without avarice, worry, or greedy strife
just let the love spread like wildfire
© Goode Guy 2011-06-21
http://lyrics.wikia.com/The_Paul_Butterfield_Blues_Band:Love_Disease
http://www.naturalnews.com/010825_counterthink_drug_racket.html
http://tierneylab.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/01/12/love-vaccine/
hit me with your best shot... ;-)
The first cut
of roses
are in bloom
and I will
see them soon,
very soon.
They float
in a bowl
of Arctic ice-flow;
regarded highly
by the local Wal-Mart
feng shui
masters.
Made to hang and share
the air
with antebellum
paintings
of imagination mansions;
holding common court,
side by side,
with ancient saints
of former papal dynasties.
The sweet scent
of first bloom perfume,
exaggerated
in all three,
becomes, too soon,
disguised, sour, funerary
aromas of terminus musk.
Can these murdered
roses face rage
from the pastel haze
of entryway
Nirvana?
When contradiction
changes or disintegrates
thought,
immutable miracles might
be imbued beyond the common wrought.
You attained an interdiction
of proportional catastrophes
which indirectly praises
all the phases
of old Rome's historic papacies.
The dead red roses float
in symbiotic sacrifice
to long dead religions
and a joyous old South.
The new South seduced
by orgiastic myth,
reproduced,
to promote fevered pleasure
in sycophant seekers
of false history.
I found displayed
all the rages
of the ages
on the pages
in their own time -
placed by decision
of revisionist mind.
Integrity of lust,
indisputably pure
until sated
by objectified cure.
Then lost again
in retrieval of memory.
Now contaminated, fully,
by casual indoctrination
causing idiosyncratic
immolation of synaptic integration.
A self-destructive, cultural,
(*****sapiens specific)
neurotic guilt is causal.
Is there somewhere,
hidden in forbidden,
abandoned land,
a gated, grisly city
sealed and shut
by rusted nails?
Standing there
where citrus fruit rots,
in the sultry dusk of time -
Eden -
forsaken ruination of a city;
the failed garden of God.
As I walk on the bridge
I reminisce my childhood
I search my soul bondage
I knew not life nor understood
But delighted for age after age.
Had nothing to relish alright
But happy was I felt ever
Had no feel of hostility albeit.
Taken to conflict never.
Present comes as sailing smooth
Though problems encompass as usual.
Dawn a conflict a day
Now searching for happiness amidst confrontation full.
Future beckons severe
As past did do it causal.
And present passes the reverie
Oh! The Super Being looks casual.
I look deep into me
As I get the insight going into me.
The life seems to be a golden boat
Sent by the Carpenter who cares my being
As I, only I, master my fate.
The blue waters of the North Atlantic,
deceptively calm, are shrouded in mystery
in the deadly Bermuda triangle,
delineated by many as a paranormal swathe,
where series of unexpected events, unexplained,
made many aircraft and ships to strangely disappear.
Despite the belief of manufactured mystery,
the Devil’s triangle attracted many elucidations…
the influence of the lost continent of Atlantis,
the magnetism of submerged Bimini Road formation,
the Gulf stream upwelling the marine gas hydrates,
but as yet no consensus has emerged.
The plausible explanation may well be the linked causal trinity,
synchronizing to define the enigmatic triangle.
October 2, 2020
Contest : The Unexplained
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire