Best Disproportionate Poems
I walk above all pain
risen and relentless
floating on borrowed air oblivious
This heart is impervious fortress, like stonewall embattlements
...that lie is twisted around every bitter past and hollow present
Meandering useless, wander and watch
Romances ebbing, flowing, flying, crashing...dead
Envy circles about my head
longer away, further removed...and lonely
This heart is porous Swiss, like wine-tasting afterthoughts
...that truth is a hulking shadow looming disproportionate
engulfing any new light on unseen horizons
Only wishing she might see and understand
My hot and cold passion platters served accordingly
apprehensive only in love's pursuits
timid like bullied school children cowering in corners
Brash and outspoken otherwise...shackled when it may matter
This heart is neglected farmland, like wartorn meadows
...that reality inhibits every bright angle of my soul
suffocating the man you would love...if you knew
The Cross and The Lynching tree are the two most emotional depictions
Of the African experience in America when it comes to the descriptions
Of the historical circumstances that define my people's struggle
Of the hatred, the pain and the injustice nothing but trouble
Torn down and broken hearted in the valley of despair
Death seemed like the only way to get out of there
But my people were survivors and they knew that one day change would come
So they held on to their faith and hope because of the Holy One
They would not accept defeat, they would not accept doubt
They knew that somehow God would work it all out
Despair may seem so real but we have an endemic capacity to live
Knowing that God is on our side and mercy to us He did give
Glory Hallelujah we placed our hope in Christ
Despite the rope and lynching tree taking my people's lives
The Lynching tree depicts death and despair
While the Cross symbolizes eternal life and no fear
We've been transformed and transcended by the power of the Cross
In spite of white supremacy and the black lives that were lost
And we now know that there is nothing new under the sun
As what happened to my people also to Jesus it was done
The Cross is a redemptive symbol of faith, hope and trust
It depicts God's resurrection power that abides inside of us
And the harsh realities of slavery that my ancestors endured
Has made their descendants more resilient than ever before
Yet systemic lynching in still in affect and the world needs to see
What's truly happening in America's so called democracy
Black folks are being killed almost every single day
A disproportionate number in prison or in economic disarray
Financial slavery in the form of debt, unemployment or uneducated
But we hold on hoping that one day we will be truly emancipated
From the Crucifixion to the Middle Passage and beyond slavery
We know see the correlation between the Cross and The Lynching tree
I seek a better life far beyond depression
My mental state needs to be repaired
Along with it, I need compensation for being born;
I did not ask for it.
Till then shall love be but my peace of mind?
I would like to believe it will
Doubts creep in and stay for a long time
Why do they torment me?
My difficulties meet with every minute that passes by
There are no cures, so I think
They are the conflicts created a long time ago
They haunt me still.
Having seized my doomed life from the grave
Not knowing the reason why when I’m so keen to exit
That’s what happens with a confused mind
Loving on edge all the time.
Most of the tears will be found wanting
Having no cause for being morbid
What has been created cannot be undone
I only can utter this is life…..
When the sound of unwholesomeness I hear
There’s no need to listen to the heart
It has been conquered mediocrity
I can do nothing about it.
Within the boundaries of loving there’s a heart
Functioning in a way the mind dictates
For with it, fantasies are created
As I am consumed by it.
Being happy in a family surroundings
Having all that I need and more
Alongside sexual fulfilment
To wake up in repulsion!
When I’m living behind prison bars I am broken
In need to escape and quickly as possible
What freedom will I find?
If I free myself after all.
If the revitalized body assumes emotions again
Keeping the mind and heart abreast of love
There will be hope, I think
Or even a waiting hell.
To the end of life itself,
Being so murky and disproportionate
Would I want to be revived?
Would I want to go through it again?
Reconciled by these thoughts
Cognitive contents have opened compassion’s gates
I wonder if I should accept them
Trying to go along with it.
In justification through my beliefs
I should know my transgressions are many
To be forgiven I shall not know
The past roads were wide and weary…..
Can I cry for lost time now departed?
It is a different country from the past;
I cannot live there anymore
I cannot love here now, also!
To call for exasperated mind and the unadorned heart
Where the spirit is weak and possessed
There is no possibility of a return
Except if sanity can be restored.
Consequential grief is not prescribed
It waits for an overall doom
It shall blacken my life
So be it!
Nothing seems to thus allign
In this Void of Trapezoids
Rhombus Squares and Hexagrams
Dance with Parallelograms
Diamond Stars and circle Scars-
A Paragon will lead me on
What Circumference? Length and Width?
Dimensions of a Cubic Myth
Radius high; Volume low
A Symmetry Divides my Soul
Like the Vikings who left us this word – ‘berserk’
some of us may have shown it through human reaction,
where we go berserk against disproportionate behaviors
such anger or infuriation that defines the immediate actions.
It’s still very human to act in this way with sudden eruption,
when inner anger overrules and makes us manifest towards others;
a strong element that fuels harsh words and outrage within,
oh, what a state of mind! so capable to influence us in many ways.
But Jesus Christ’s experience when confronted with torture,
suffering, crucifixion and eventually death in his heroic way;
his courage and humility which are worth mentioning here.
truly, a sublime reaction against those pains and persecutions.
He becomes human who copes with greater risks and pains,
identified not as a historical Jesus of natural stoicism;
with his real grasp of what his destiny may entail along the process,
his only response – to embrace the cross which means so much for us.
On Good Friday reminds us of his passion and crucifixion,
being betrayed, denied and left alone in humiliation;
in darkness and dread, in sorrow and bereavement,
he remains true to his mission and love for all the people.
His lonely agony in the garden of Gethsemane,
touches us so profoundly as he awaits for his destiny;
here is his obedience to the Father whom he prays to,
one with him, distinct in person, one in the Trinity.
Courage or bravery is worth remembering here,
it’s born out of a vision that comprises his self-giving;
that knows no fear but is moved with deep reflection,
all for otherness, all for humanity, all because of his love for people.
In today’s world where we’re constantly tempted with selfishness,
self-centeredness or obsession for power, money and prestige;
Christ’s journey with his disciples makes us reflect what it means,
to be a disciple is to be willing to sacrifice for the sake of others.
Obsessed with harmony,
I write this allegory:
Once there were two rival kings,
Actually brothers.
Each always (or at least often) thought:
Only my God exists.
They thought not of the implication.
Like king, like citizens!
So, naturally, differences arose
Where there was cause for none—after all.
However, the two kingdoms had
Their strikingly common factors,
As simple mathematics can show:
The Highest Common Factor was Corruption:
As suggested by disproportionate income;
Only the ratio and proportion differed!
Violence was the second HCF:
Only cause of violence differed—from time to time.
Killing was common:
Killing leaders or killing people.
But the equations here are of higher mathematics—
Beyond the reach and range of common readers:
The killer is equal to the killed;
Or the killer is greater than the killed.
In any case, killing was just!
The two kingdoms, however, were divided
By some common factors—
A strange paradox:
They were divided by the same language,
Because the two dialects differed—a vital difference!
Sport they had in common,
But often the two teams violently disputed.
So, disputes often arose
Between the two kings.
Now, an adjacent king, Br’er Wolf,
Offered to mediate—
Like the proverbial monkey in the Panchatantra story:
Now there was a triangle.
Then?
There was no triangle--
Only a big red circle!
— Ram, R. V.
Winner II, Premiere Poetry Contest, sponsored by Silent One, July 27, 2017
Slavery
enslavement
force of self-imposed ownership
overpowering another's ego-ownership,
anthro-morbid,
collective ego-morphic tolerance of identity rape,
fear and anger, together building hate,
from which enslavement derives;
a culturally camouflaged nondual co-arising relationship
of codependent despair,
self-hatred.
Enslaving force perpetuates Ego's full-blown angry reduction
in self-identity,
deduction of self,
as someone who could "own" another's Ego-healthy will
for equivalent freedom from my freedom
to enslave another's life,
exterior and interior.
Slave and poverty development owners
internally enslaved by our own hypocritical hubris,
swimming upstream into economically encrusted perpetuation
of cognitive and affective dissonance,
chronic anxious homelessness,
hopelessness that I cannot afford to be more co-empathic,
healthier on my own,
than we are together
on Earth's owner-ship.
Those nations,
corporations,
families,
individuals
addicted to retaining
and further developing
vastly disproportionate wealth deposits,
divorced from our own cooperative health and well-being investments,
not only steal from those without enough to thrive,
but also slink away from our own collective mental health,
anxiously fearing freedom's inevitable reparations,
struggling to repress awareness of nondual codependent enslavement
into entropic death of species.
Hatred combines anger about past with fear of future.
"Anger Management" politics might choose a more transparent therapeutic label,
"Hatred Co-Arising Suppression".
Decomposing hatred first breathes through "I am Anger,"
listening for Time's healing simmer,
then decomposing anger about past violations
to embrace rational fears of deadly toxins
enslaving equitable prospects for a healthy future.
It feels healthy to remember we are Anger
with ourselves
and with each other
before,
without sustaining against ourselves or others,
perpetuating enslaving hatred
for mental health stolen from those without sufficient wealth
to thrive
to feed
our own unhealthy enslaving greed.
Dispirited slavery imposes greedy unnatural ownership,
dreadful wealthy lust for power
co-arising with holistic health's decreasing power,
globally and personally,
without as within.
Very bad karma,
total lack of grace,
not our way to Win-Win race.
Tonight I remembered that England still has a royal family,
Who are paid to play dress up and make believe,
Strutting around in parades to tell all who see,
"This country was inherited by me."
Let's play pretend and say that money,
Was owned by those who work,
Instead of by those who hadn't done any,
Thing but emerge from what their mothers twerk.
It's time for the working lower and middle classes,
Who've been belittled and middled by the high brow and crass,
To demand maximum wages for those CEO masses,
Who want your minimum wages to pay for their idle asses.
Royalty is but the aristocracy we see in the U.S.A.,
Of the rampent run disproportionate pay,
It's time, I say, that we see today,
We deserve to live in a better way.
If there is a god, don't save the queen,
She's fine, for she's rich and hardly ever lifted a hand,
Now help those that have been left trapped in between,
Those who rule and what they claim of the land.
Love has many types and tones
Depths and heights, unfathomable
And some, infinitesimal
Love is confused and lonely
One sided and disproportionate
It knows hate not
It does not masquerade
Love is pure as the morning sun
Subject to natural law
Rich or poor
Happy or depressed
Life or death
'Pinup Girls'
A pinup girl is a kind of cartoon character
With a disproportionate mind and figure.
She has this facial expression, the same one constantly,
As if to say wow, a birthday cake, just for me?
She lives in a fantasy world
In which everyone's soul has been sold
Living lives of raucous absurdity
Macho men ogle at the pinup girls in the city.
A pinup girl, upon noticing she's being noticed,
Will keep on walking but will look back with mock embarrassment.
If she carries one, she'll twirl her umbrella
Blinking long black lashes till someone shouts hey, ragazza bella!
Her walk is a sight to behold, a sight quite comic at least,
Waddling, high heeled, well tapered legs clumsily a-jut from a wasp thin waist.
A streetwalker, but not a whore, as innocent as a virgin but not an angel,
She's a pinup girl.
A well known artist moved out of the city,
Seeking for himself anonymity,
But when he won a lottery prize
Of a disproportionate size,
He had to wear a disguise for equanimity.
Paraded endlessly, this spectacle the Elephants know to be degrading,
And their counterparts from the sea , the Orcas, resist in captivity
By refusing to unfurl their proud dorsal fin, stings my eyes like a gnat
Lodged in my cortex, no amount of profit seems to dislodge.
Waking from my dream, I notice the old man waving to the crowd,
Gesturing wildly, as if warning of something no-one has yet seen.
Every evolution of Plybinium Quasar, the spectacle increases, with
Dogs leaping and biting at the air, and Neptunes, of disproportionate
Size, unable (or unwilling) to allow the pain to subside.
The viewing platform, constructed entirely of entitlements, teeters
Vicariously in the breeze, with the prominent attendees smiling, despite
Frostbite, inching up their extended promises.
Utilizing “light-track” technology, the time hoppers applaud
At pre-determined intervals, a strenuous exercise for sure,
Given the time restraints imposed by the counters in the Humbolt Quasar.
In this unfamiliar atmosphere, what clean air there is left to breathe
Smells pretty bad, like a cake frosted with sulfur.
01/10/11
9:46 pm
© All Rights Reserved
I have this urge
to be with someone
I'd take anyone just so I'm not alone
but I'm tired of gluing stuff that
just won't fit. Disproportionate pieces
that are far from perfect. Even though
the picture maybe beautiful I can see
the cracks that aren't filled.
And these people that I meet
they never really heal.
Or cure the loneliness.
when you'd rather be holding
someone else tight.
Someone else would fit just right.
So I put down the glue and the
mismatched puzzles pieces.
I take a breath and just peel
off the glued parts.
Eventually this puzzle will
be completed. In the mean time
I realized it's okay to be alone.
He visits altercations on a daily basis
Of a not so soon enough wedding day kiss
Damaged by headlights and the careless left lane
His beds' been ridden of the wrong Mary Jane
Even recalling the uselessness of the brakes
To their daughter, he's determined to disguise the pain
For every play-date, he changes his name
He collects his composition without a chance of rain
He prays to a God without nothing much to give
But the babies cries and his own bruised lips
To save another girl from being deprived to live
C'mon, man. You know you've got to do this.
Some nights, he can't take it
He's wrapped in two blankets
Beside both princesses, don't know what he's thinking
But he takes it in without a moment wasted
So glad you're making it
Without the mother
It's been something other
But he holds on this living Wonder
She's only seventeen
Without a single meaning
Of this disproportionate life she's been meeting
The mirrors wake to a girl who won't stop bleeding
Can't see past the red from the girl she's been beating
She's aware she's developing
But can't take society
Can't own up to good grades
Can't find her sobriety
The love of her life doesn't know who he's dating
Stuck in reverse, she still wants to change Me
Who could she be?
Who'd love her for the words she'd breathe?
She's made up of fairy tales and ancient poetry
The only things left she finds herself believing
in are empty outlets and a frustrated family.
Without a day to seethe
Without nights of deceit
She deserves more than this everyday disbelief
I can't help but say this
You are more than these places
You find yourself facing
You are more than your brain thinks
Quit wasting it too much imagination
AN INDIAN SHIVER
I really don’t know why she took it back
The lady lent me that which I now lack
Some men can abide losing such a prize
And to me loss, of course, is never a surprise
The lady loaned me life’s sweetest gift
Before we fell out of sorts due to a rift
It was a chasm I could not climb out of
And a cloud of cruelty I could not rise above
The woman imparted a large part of her heart
Until she rescinded a most pertinent part
She shared and bared her beauty but only for a little while
A fragmentary moment that was the function of her smile
The lady segmented my spirit seriously with her goodbye
She sliced my body with a disproportionate portion of a lie
What it amounted to was counted in the number of my tears
And now what she once lent me is tragically in arrears
I was a beggar who was never choosy in any way
And when I accepted her contribution it was a most wondrous day
She donated and denoted something that filled a huge empty hole
And now I have but a sorrowful souvenir to remind me of her soul
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