Best Dispassion Poems
CRY PLANET CRY
Every country is guilty of polluting planet earth,
All the way down its length and across its girth,
We all will ultimately pay the deserved price,
Who will be first, it’s like rolling the dice,
To mention a few, Moscow, to London to Perth!
We throw plastic bottles, packets of take away food,
From car windows, from high buildings, so crude,
Rubbish mounts up horribly in suburbs and cities,
We are committing suicide, was it this bad in the fifties
People then could plan for tomorrow, no longer dude!
Factories, trucks and old cars emit carbon dioxide,
We walk and drive through rubbish, have we no pride,
Do we not sorrow for the future, even the morrow?
We might as well go freeze at the top of Kilimanjaro,
I see a planet mourning, hopeless tears will be cried!
We must practice dialogue intellect and compassion,
Is all this now out of fashion, where is our passion,
Presidents, prime ministers, all rulers look ahead,
For quite plainly if you don’t we are all dead,
No malignant plans please, and no more dispassion!
And then it stopped.
The jagged edge of anxiety smoothed
by the fall in slow motion -
A tumble into a pool of tranquility.
Suddenly awakened from the angst
by the splash of a refreshing reality;
reminding me that I need to
swim in peace for a while.
The pool is deep and calming.
It soothes the rawness of disquiet
and the cruelty of dispassion which
has dominated my recent existence.
Resistance melting in the serenity of
the rippling water, I float,
perfectly at peace and calmed by
the composure of the landscape.
It has stopped ………
and I can breathe at last.
In the thickets of the forests and grooves
On the paths through the deserts and the wild
Walked in the robe of nobility
The one who defied the wind and tidal wave
Who throned on a mighty white horse
Decked in regalia of a consummate conqueror
A blue-blooded woman that ascended a throne
In the reign of men, under a the glare of a proud race
Her power and dominion beyond the great Elizabeth
Her rule grim and firm than Margaret Thatcher’s
The wind and wave did her bidding at battlefronts
She was ruthless and wise in governance
Her sword thrusted to the sand blood and hearts of men at war
Bent on conquest she knew no defeat
Bu spoils, plunders of warriors, kings and horses
She held court over men of wisdom and age
She dispensed justice with dispassion
She rode home in triumphant sound of trumpets
To the waiting arms of loyal subjects and servants
In the days when women stood in full heights.
I am a champion,
the thought and feel of it is real,the fact being indisputable and the reality pure,
with others,and in singular isolation victory over the misery of disrections is now,and future,
I am a champion because I have led myself and others to victories,
victories over the malvolent and lurid labors,
living,toiling,dreaming,and breathing within the parameters of a system foriegn
to my instincts, alien to this suture,
I am a champion along with others because I weep incredulity
at the untaught magnitude of a work ethic producing abject glories,
brought to my knees,my heart beats rife with pain,fear, & the mud of doubt,
brought to lunacy by the dispassion that consequence savors,
rising, and rising as emotions explode at the chance and moment for domination,
justification, to obliterate the obstacles,making room for stories,
awaking with dry pain in the eyes,nausea,dizziness,despair,
seeking simple reasons for motivation to go forth,
wishing quixotically for more sleep,
finishing the day feeling dumb,dull and brazen like a fenced horse
hungry for edification,rectification,seeing the great steppe with a risk too deep,
going on week after week with new sprains & strains on mind body & spirit,
always some mistake, cuts, bruises, burns & hyperextensions,
compulsively micromanaging,hyperanalysing, a manic finisher,
nothing will dissuade me from the thankless pursuits of daily perfections,
the anatagonists,the ones who sneer & discourage casually at the noble attempts
of the able champions trying to maximize efficiency,to excel,win,
raising that standard which the mediocre claim can't be improved,
I and others jeapordize our health,safety,sanity so to accomplish the impossible,
I receive no grand trophies,new contracts or publicity,
nobody takes my picture or delivers a prize,
there are no special tokens or passwords on the table,
we strive ferociously for the sake of victory,for the knowledge of limits,
this way setting greater goals & tests,
being testaments for others who climb,
do I want acclaim from Deity for my successes,distinction for my sacrafices, no,
I work hard for me and others to be sublime -
J.A.B.
Apathy’s Remedy
by Odin Roark
Some acknowledge it,
Few reject it,
Many succumb to it.
Such is the torpor
Surrounding too much of today’s pressing reality,
That adopted indifference and ennui by the masses,
Making tomorrow uninviting.
Yet…
Even as the sink hole of soul
Quivers and bellows its voracious seduction,
The echoing essence of being human
Seeks to be heard.
And…
Like Beethoven’s Ode To Joy
One’s many tomorrows to come
Can be imagined as layers of unbridled choruses
Merely waiting to be heeded and embraced.
For like the masters of creative imagination,
Eradicating such dulling of the mind
Calls upon tenacity of will,
That exquisite quality of reason
Innately inherent in all,
The quintessential detoxifier,
Whose purging exorcism
Leaves apathy struggling against its demise,
Knowing rational determination
Will make dispassion but a lexiconic reference
In the many conquests of mind.
Decades ago
a candle of love lit
In my heart’s temple
Shaded by my passion
Survived winds of dispassion
So why clinical psychology?
What does that mean, anyway?
What is non-clinical psychology?
Does it mean analytical psychology,
which might mean analogical?
Which would mean ecological?
Which is really just plain logical?
So is it logical psycho-logic,
and wouldn't that be sort of redundant
because doesn't psycho-logy mean psycho-logic
and dissonant dislogic
neurosystemic win/win gratitude
through lose/lose despairing attitude?
So maybe clinical psychology is neuro consciousness
and unconsciousness
and subconsciousness
psycho-logic?
Which might mean the psychologics of healthy wokeness?
But, if this is a science
then the logic of a psychic paradigm
can be no better or worse,
I suppose,
than the rationality of the scientist?
So, does clinical psychology refer to a logical neuro-science
of positive consciousness
and negative unconsciousness?
And, if so, then why would anyone assume this could be systemically dissonant with ecological healthy
and economically unhealthy Earth-consciousness?
Why not ecological dynamics of our Interior Landscape?
Clinical psychology as deep listening
for ecological compassion
and inhumane capitalistic dispassion.
Low spirits and utter despair,
She had lost all her flair,
Time stagnated !
How long could the wait last,
Dejected heart to the full to blast,
Incurable hopeless !
Sun could not shadow gloominess,
Her very being deprived of happiness,
Hope against hope !
The injury quite a deep and severe,
His vengeance extremely clear,
The wretchedness !
Don't suppress else will depress,
Just look beyond there's life,
End up melancholy, live to strife,
Shun sadness !
No recession can everlast,
Essential to counter depression is,
Dispassion,
Dissociate,
Flagellate,
Backfire,
Slam your passion !
Be sassy and warble !!
Written on 30/5/14
Contest- slamming battle round -2 ( my highs my lows)
Sponsor- Verlena S Walker
Awarded 3rd place
Now for contest- Any old poem will do #2
Sponsor- SKAT A
EarthMother recirculates red
and dark blue blood,
through sacred veins
and springing arterials
of integrity's compassion
Healing
wounding segregated pathologies
of death avoidance
is not life gracefully danced
When we
together
see Alphas
StraightWhiteMale dominant
through every space
in timeless now
Circulating Anthropocene
patho-atheistic parching Earth
in Alpha taste
and RightWing touch
and LeftBrain see
Omega's green capital face
and organic viscera,
MeWe Janus de-polarized
feeling dizzy
with transgendered dissonance
Traumatized
by unsecretive eyes
for not-not shared objectives
With healthy words
usurped by straight
white anthro-engoddened men
no one dare name
or look upon
without shame,
monotheistic
punishing blame
Throughout our dynamic history
of multiculturally systemic
polytheistic
iconic
sacred becoming EarthTribes
continuously open
whole systemic filled
universal felt experience
Omega's tipping point
toward integral win/win
strategic green
bi-hemispherically balancing
co-messianic Spring i
New Year transitioning intelligence
Recirculating red
and dark blue blood,
through veins
and uprising Alpha arterials
of integrity's Omega
autumnal
replete compassion
Wintering climate
depleted dispassion
silently waiting
next season's green
return addiction,
summer's full climax
loving life
now sadly co-defeated.
Grace
is not the rather loose reputed love of choice
after natural laws of Earth's justice have been primally satisfied.
Nor is Mercy,
her sister,
a gratuitous co-passionate remainder,
icing on the after thought of justice cake,
after having had Her revengeful way
for sins of our enslaving Fathers.
Rather,
Earth's nature-spirit laws
for protecting nutritional rights and equity
are the evolving justice of last resort
when intrinsic co-empathic trusting grace
has been rejected too often already
within some connecting string of incarnation,
some sacred identity we might and could love
as organically transcendent life itself.
The primary health role of nature's nutritional law,
protection against ecocidal toxins,
security from anthroprivileged injustice,
absence of co-empathic therapeutic trust
as presence of community co-immunity,
is to support effective deep meaningful anticipation,
and not over-reactive wide purposeless anxiety,
toward full development of richly resonant transgenerational relationships,
political and economic musecology.
As a materialistic, yet healthy-social, song and dance species,
we have spent far too much energy
on advocating the triumph of just political relations,
rather than justly cooperative and inclusive economic co-ownership,
rooted in co-empathic gratitude
through listening to and with suffering oppressed fractured species,
stories speaking to our own compassionate voices within,
advocating for future generations of EarthTribe peace.
When our relationship with EarthTribe's Commons
is more about protection from material harm
than loving sustained healthy relationships
rooted in natural-physical
organically inter-religioning
co-infested gratitude for compassion
and outraged attitude against Othering dispassion,
then we are significantly inside and outside the comfort range
of thermodynamic balance,
co-arising trust,
where Grace deteriorates into BadKarma
and restores into GoodKarma
as decomposition informs gratitude's re-incarnate potential
Grace's wealthy step-sister room
for Mercy's further transgenerational
trans generational
transgene rational healthy growth.
For every relationship
we can rediscover
a season
of increase
and tipping point
toward decrease.
For every correlation,
positively resonant
and negatively dissonant,
a regenerative
becoming degenerative season
for building up and out
and tearing down and in
compassion
compulsion
recreation
tipping toward
dispassion
revulsion
decay
Like passionate summer powers
Falling toward
diminished winter light
dipolar co-arising
hope for continuous
contiguous fresh spring
cooperating green,
morning blue
yet warmer
cumulating skies
repredicting summer's
fertile
climax
passions
Re-enlisted
in four fractal
reasoned seasons
for redeveloping Earth justice
and restoring Tribal peace
Turning traumatic weaponed
retributive discommunications
into therapeutic wellness tooled
restorative re-communionations.
My mother believed in prayers, more than my father did
My father believed in tackling his problem with a flask of
White rum, I believed in the moment of things:
They are hidden compartments inside of us, my poetic friends
“Being in the moment” can be a helpful reminder if we understand it in a more expansive way
Perhaps it was true, when someone said to deal with some situation at moment times
I refused to grieve for my dearly departed husband,
Past experience, wouldn’t allowed me to weep at his grave
My lack of dispassion and willful stubbornness.
Did I really love him, did I really forgive him?
Maybe it was the disrespectfulness, I couldn’t forgive,
The truth is quite different. Forgiving an offense empowers the offended. It is to a man’s glory to overlook an offense (Proverbs 19:11)
I can’t change, the past, but I can learn from it, it might prevent me
From walking through a fire, such as that,
I would look at his picture on my refrigerator, and I love him and I hate him
In that same moment, we are surely bedmates
My distance craving, my longing to be held tightly throughout the night.
If a person can fulfill needs for companionship, love, sex or mating, there is a greater chance that the other person will fall in love with him or her over, and over again
Somehow not me, you burn, you affect me deeply,
I have done all of this, and came out the loser, all the time
Love is not for me. loneliness is my captive
I know, I know, I know, loneliness need not to have the final words
Even when the world is against me,
I will shine through, like old ancient Bims
I lost the love of my life due to jealousy,
He lost me because I love him enough to let him go,
I had a breakthrough, I had given up on loving, a mortal again
I rather be alone, than living with them and be lonely,
I was never programed to fail, or stand for foolishness
Yes, call me stubborn, called me high and mighty,
Call me the new modern girl, I will not age like a failure
But with greatness, with relentless pursuit for my happiness,
I deserved this. I know I do, the poet within, know I do
As my online paparazzi stalk me. They need to go ahead
And do their own thing... lol
When I reflect back
On our time together
People were amazed
By my patience
And my quiet resolve
To maintain,
The status quo.
Such forbearance
And fortitude
In the face
Of her constant betrayals
My endurance
And boundless tolerance
Astounded everyone
But to claim any virtue
Would be dishonest
Because it was so calculated
I was not blind
To her indiscretions.
And to our friends
My capacity for forgiveness
Seemed to far exceed
Her ability to shame me
But it was I
Who was the dishonest one
I maintained an air
Of cool dispassion
In an effort
To give her space
And freedom
So as not to drive her away
I wore the mask
Of the patient husband
But my noble efforts
Were in vain
As I appeared to her,
Merely indifferent
And I drove her away anyway
I should have been honest
True to my feelings
I should have discarded
All pretence
And removed the mask
Look ... but don’t touch
Touch ... but don’t taste
Taste ... but don’t enjoy
Enjoy ... but don’t ever show it
A dispassionate display,
cold dish served on an ice tray
Heart beat is sub-zero,
Arctic thoughts are so cadaver cold
Bosom heat is distant Pluto,
Permafrost eyes are frigid windows
Cold fish caught in the Aleutian Sea,
Icebox lungs became frozen gill memories
Popsicle toes icicle fingers
Polar bear nose
Penguin echoes seem to glacial linger
Tropical grace melt ice-cold, igloo cubicles
Rainforest place warmly blow tear heart-shaped miracles
Show the passion ... but don’t ever let go of it
Let go of it ... but don’t ever forget how to find it again
And again and again and again ... and
keep looking for that loving touch
Searching beyond earth’s end
I dip the tip of quill
deep in my hearts inkpot
and cross my name with blood
out the record I got.
My name will not be found
in the book of passion.
I wish I could erase
my desires madness.
But how forget the past
if remaining sadness
still painful hurts my soul?
Rainbows turn to ashen.
The open gates to dreams
tempting and forbidden
are with repentance closed.
I will keep them hidden,
ask pardon for my flaw,
fighting my dispassion.