Best Exclusivity Poems
Each species has its tools
to do what it can to ensure
its own survival.
We, try our best to
separate,
and say we are not
the same.
We pick a trait to denote
our exclusivity.
Other species prove
their relativity.
Once it was tools
and to our chagrin
we found they all
were using them
and so we redrew
the line.
Language is what
we are good at
until we found
that dog and cats,
parrots and dolphins,
chimps and all manner
of beasties with tales
or not had their own
tales to tell.
What's left for us
to claim as our
special trait?
I vote for
self delusion.
It seems to us
unique.
We murder and convince ourselves
it is for peace.
We raise boys to be killers and then
pretend surprise
when they are.
We foster hate among each other
and pretend
it is not really happening.
We enslave each other
and claim
to believe in freedom.
We pretend concern for
all mankind,
yet make sure that
few succeed.
Yes, I think in all these things,
the animal, we far exceed
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXXII
IF ever I had a country with or without nationality
And if ever I were elected or nominated Chief Patriot of this God-forsaken mis-carriaged country
And if ever my country - minus the nation - were to be on the verge of being invaded by other countries which religiously subscribe to the notion of " God-bless-us-first " in all exclusivity
I would make it the point of utmost urgence to challenge such insolent uppity countries on their concept of nationality by tabling a motion on the definition of patriotism as opposed to that of nationalism in the United Nations General Assembly
All at the risk of being expelled from that august self-effacing ineffective body and my own blasted country in utter ignominy
And I'd command all patriots to take up arms against and shoot at sight the back-thumping nationalists within my country for fear they may join hands with the invading xenophobic nationalists to enslave and throttle all patriots - y compris the Chief Patriot - in my dear old patrie
And this, even if I were to be unconstitutionally nominated Chief Patriot by all die-hard nationalists in within my own country
Even if I never ever had no country not legitimately sworn in at the United Nations General Assembly
© T. Wignesan - Paris, November 20, 2018
A gigantic sail looms, above the sea,
Anchored by steel braces, of creativity,
Start of a journey, from an island beyond the surf,
Into the hour, of the twenty-first century turf.
High above the mast, the yard hangs free,
For ‘sailor guests’ to dine, in exclusivity,
They watch boats set sail, on the sea,
And relinquish the skyline, of an exotic city.
Beyond the yard, on a perch, ‘round’,
‘Manmade butterflies’, often touchdown.
Utilised on occasions, for symbolic games,
To convey delight, across continents.
The rich and the famous, ride to the deck,
In royal carriages, drawn by animals long dead,
They alight at the Galway, lined with palm trees,
Suited chaperons’ welcome, with warm sea breeze.
They look around, through the dazzle, to see;
Stacked, decked cabins, of outlandish luxury,
The centre of its universe, is the extension of the sea,
Exotic free fishes pace in, with moving galaxies,
The glitterati with grace, pace all around,
Meetings take place between gilded crowns,
Heaven of magical illusions on worldly ground,
That steps out into a sea, for unknown bound.
Humanity’s expressions of beauty epitome,
Few strokes symbolic of an iconic guest home,
Humility of a creator to sail into the unknown,
With the analogy drawn to a white marble tomb.
Strange sedition stealthy sets
cloaked in artificial greening phiz
some by prejudice inquiring,
“Where are you from”?
others in feigning frame avoiding,
finding paths away from you,
Though harmless your looks.
There be those secluding,
choosing space dodging.
deliberate speed the drama,
of Conceited Bias unspoken,
The loss of childhood innocence,
Deprivation infinite,
miscarriages of Justice,
preferential treatments innumerable,
spites and Obvious denigration,
strange glare on nature's kiln,
The sun made me shine little mind,
I don't envy You in this cold.
The spite, multitudinous,
The Jeers, unprovoked contumely,
At work,
The Bus,
the Malls,
The elevator,
the peevish looks,
uncertain repudiations,
Even in Church secluded,
The brief suspense at the “sacred” ground
Exclusivity,
We see it, watching in silence.
Some time too Obvious,
Unspoken Nepotism,
“We first”, You Last or voided.
The denigrating use of “Minority or Others”
As though the described are less human,
I am African, NOT "minority" or "others"
we know these sieving schemes.
In civility we ignore,
A better knowledge Leads
This dying carcass a mere container,
We are not inferior,
we are not a threat,
We are beautiful ,
We observe,
We lough at these ,
And when the manacles of Justice is snapped by the creator of colors
then shall you know,
We are all sojourners here.
Early in the morning I happily arise
Same routine, set just like a clock
Straight to the black box on my desk
No coffee, no breakfast just straight there
One button pressed then adding a code
This is the place where my life blood flows
Suddenly before me, is entry to the world
The latest news and the latest trends
Did he leave a message, today probably not
Oh dear a friend’s Birthday I nearly forgot.
Did they like my poem did anyone comment
Did anyone read Rob’s stories on my Timeline
Is catastrophe the new headlines or a little peace
Did the stock market plummet or did it soar
Hundreds of emails but none I really want
Waiting for replies, that never seem to come
Creativity stifled, as on so many I wait
Yes I love it when Yahoo it flashes alive
When I hear that Buzz my heart it soars
Exclusivity only, for the man I adores
Chatting on Facebook, to so many new friends
Creative people that stimulate life
Getting a lead sheet, sending off a song
Booking for the theatre, a new show on line
Paying my Bills with such comfort and ease
Ordering my groceries, or a restaurant please
And of course You-Tube the wonder of it all
Missed the Emmy’s, no problem at all
All missed movies, and love songs at a click
A friends new album, great humor, Netflicks
My Skinny Box of LifeWhile I’m beginning my day, for some its rest
The cats are complaining, when, will they get fed
Who would have thought to this box I am wed
As I hour after hour I happily travel the world
And due this little box, a great love it unfurled
Oh yes, suddenly my life it will never been the same
Friends who never see me, think I’m insane
Dear Microsoft, Google, Facebook, Yahoo, You Tube
You are the temptress sharing my life
Never doubt my devotion, I’ll be a loyal wife!
Why is digital form always binary functional?
asked the student of bilateral self-surmise.
Why is polynomial information
always binomially self-reflective?
asked the student
of Me/We synergetic surprise.
Because analogical function
evolves bilateral virtuous
and invidious comparison,
double-bound as negative
with dipolar positive comparisons
evolving future rebalancing
midway views
Ergodically whole yet open systemic
co-gravitating
co-regenerating
ionic synergy
sometimes ironic double-bound energy
Bicamerally nondual
deductive/inductive
outside/inside consciousness
of 4Dimensional convex space
concave bilateral time perception,
double-elliptical prime relational,
zeroistically permaculturing
savoring scent of wealthier multicultural feel.
Why do two negatives seem to play OK together
while two positives act like mutually monolithic homophobes?
While not as strong as the co-ionic Yang/Yin bond
of positive on and over,
surrounding convexly
what remains bilaterally concavely negative enclosed,
this co-dependent lust forms one Yang-strong dipolarity
while YinYin mutual subsidiary win-win double-binding co-gravitation
remains Janus-equivalent empowered midway
tipping multiculturing points
Our way toward double lose-lose mutually aggressive
ego-
and anthro-
supremacy,
LeftBrain verbal exclusivity,
encultured narcissistic
egocentric oppositional disorder
of competitive Win/Lose traumatic economic history's
capitalistic best
Not-Not rhyming full-bodied open Yes!,
a neurosystemic bilateral nest
of equivalent conjoined contentment,
cooperatively mutual ego/eco-identity,
midway between polynomial universality
and reverse binomial integral-unity,
Riding a razor's edge of mutual appreciation
within this great cooperative transitional revolution
of nondualistic bicameral
co-arising in/out-volutionary
ego-health/eco-wealth Win/Win theory.
Sing strong
practiced crown harmonics;
dance long
resiliently rooted resonance,
resolving EarthPassioned sustenance.
Make us weep for more.
She's aware he's awfully chivalrous for carrying such casual intent
While there's subconscious recognition he's a blend of canny ways
Mixed with filthy desire
Leaving her plenty of room for discontent
His finicky facade that this helpless girl can't help but admire
While to herself she's being a liar
As if she could deny this mans selfish pursuance
Her misinterpretations are inevitable
A genitive surefire
He'll maintain his obvious avoidance for exclusivity
She'll claim to have been perpetually blinded by his witty ways
As she induced her own misfire
Those eyes of his will misconstrue
Betting on the fact she'll negate her own savvy finesse
That self proclaimed ability to see through
Inevitably he'll be praised and built up as a statue
Like his soul
He'll be mended of stone
While in the interim
She'll be gazing pitifully
Into shades of blue
Because of the puerile quality of my work, as you know I have been very
reluctant to participate in any contests. However, Garrison Keillor has
set up among his readers, a competition that I have decided to enter, not
for any hope of winning, but to gain a few more readers of my own. I have
thus tweaked yesterday's submission a bit. So here it is again. Go ahead,
point your finger and have a good laugh at me. I deserve it.
My Romance With A Quantum Particle
First off, I see that though invisible,
how infinitely precious that you are!
Since you cannot be destroyed,
my universe would lack completion
if you were not a part of the colloidal whole.
Indeed, by virtue of selection,
you are priceless.
There is no masquerading "you"
who may present a valid claim
to your existence. We may not entertain
a challenge to your everlasting exclusivity.
You bring me gifts: among them,
admiration. Who else now centers
every thought I have on anything
I cannot see? Who else succeeds
in mustering such power?
A second gift defines a lack
of self-inflationary skill,
but most would have no will
to see that as a negative,
rather as pure modesty
and striven-for
by puffed-up souls like me.
Third, whether energy or no,
you are material--at its most basic
to be sure, but surely
as we understand, the tiniest ingredient
on record, and a representative
of all your brothers, yet unique
in all the ages at this very moment,
for an honor you alone deserve,
yet granting me the privilege
to so discern.
Go, my little one.
Particulate you are, but flawless
in performance, for you stand
as the foundation of reality,
as quietly you navigate the void
that all the rest of us
will never even see or understand.
~
First off, I see that though invisible,
how infinitely precious that you are!
My universe is incomplete without you,
and will be forever,
since you cannot be destroyed--
modified, perhaps, but so may anyone.
Indeed, by virtue of selection,
you are priceless.
There is no masquerading "you"
who may present a valid claim
to your existence. We may not entertain
a challenge to your everlasting exclusivity.
You bring me gifts: among them,
admiration. Who else now centers
every thought I have on anything
I cannot see? Who else succeeds
in mustering such power?
A second gift defines a lack
of self-inflationary skill,
but most would have no will
to see that as a negative,
rather as pure modesty
and striven-for
by puffed-up souls like me.
Third, whether energy or no,
you are material--at its most basic
to be sure, but surely
as we understand, the tiniest ingredient
on record, and a representative
of all your brothers, yet unique
this very moment,
and an honor you alone deserve
for granting me the privilege
to so discern.
Go, my little one.
Particulate you are, but flawless
in performance, for you stand
as the foundation of reality,
as quietly you navigate the void
that all the rest of us
will never even see or understand.
~
Shirring quirks
There is a hollow in my complex poet’s soul
ambivalence and contradictions a vagary maybe
a vagrant’s search for meaning roots expression
a void and a fill just the same a need to be heard
Stream of consciousness at best with sudden
abrupt twists and turns between flexible moldings
derived from schema files impressions of context origin
contingency and sometimes seeming incoherence
Incontinence it may appear and yet a gathering
when fragmentation on the fabric of my tapestry
feeds an inner need to reveal all clarity and still
remains in mystery of mellow capricious constancy
Is it weird and odd idiosyncratic in peculiar eccentricity
does it disguise more than it reveals am I too secretive
or shy when I play with words ad infinitum and on that
matter is it not absurd when scribbles are fixed in verse
Is it strength conferred or foible fancy sneaky meaning
when the open book that I am remains closed in view
of polar opposites becomes a gathering in the theatre
of mind with a puzzled audience on ranks and sidelines
My twirling on this planet used to be clear and absolute
with no conscious orbits left infallible of strong delusion
I am now free to dither to have more question than there
are answers and need to understand myself before such
Quirk dissolves and exclusivity becomes open inclusion
No bestsellers yet or never but at the moment I cannot
sell my soul to the highest bidder and remain just there
in tender reconciliation in what in where and when today
03rd February 2018
SOVIET SEX
An old professor, communist and wed,
Had recently been rather emotive:
Turned to his wife one night in their big bed -
I think our love arrangement’s inactive.
I’m sorry if I seem to be restive
But single-spouse is bourgeois, usual.
We should perhaps live in a collective:
No exclusivity residual !
There’s a pretty nurse at the hospital
Who wants to live in with us, (I mean me).
Yes, I think you might like living with Sal :
And our bed is big enough for all three.
Yes, says wife, but bed’s big enough for four:
So let’s include her young husband Igor.
"Sometimes preservation is the surest road to ruin."
I took a walk along the ocean down by the sea,
I prefer them both together I’m sure that you’ll agree.
I was the only one that was out wandering over the land,
When on the beach I spied a church that was listing in the sand.
Its spire was bent to the starboard side and its steeple held no bell,
The walls were all full of cracks and the roof was beat to hell.
Once it was the cutest church made of clapboard and of shake,
On its doors was posted a sign “Christ Died for Your Sake.”
I thought I’d pay it a little visit, it was the least that I could do,
So I opened up the big front doors and hollered in yohoo!
I was the only person there, not a single other soul.
And once inside I could see that the ocean had taken its toll.
The pews were still in their places but encrusted with ocean brine,
Slowly I started up the aisle in search of some kind of sign.
At the front stood a pulpit where a preacher must have stood,
Delivering the word to the faithful just the way that he should.
How did this ever come about? How did this church meet its end?
How did it ever lose its direction and the love that it used to send?
Then there upon the alter, lying beneath a fishing net,
The opened Bible invited me, the waves hadn’t claimed it yet.
I stood there reading the word as the waves lapped against the wood,
And as the tide lifted the church I was certain that I understood.
In the book of Matthew it spoke of the builders both the foolish and the wise,
The foolish built their foundation in sand but the waters started to rise.
He who builds his foundation on a rock will never come to ruin,
The builders of this church, it seemed, hadn’t known what they were doin’.
On the sands of exclusivity they’d built a monument to themselves,
Then locked the church in traditions and stored it on the shelves.
They wanted to keep anyone out who had committed a distasteful sin,
The little church became a bottle and the good people died from within.
As I walked I watched a while as the little church washed away,
And even though its sermons are done, it still taught a lesson today.
The Church By The Ocean Poetry Contest
Tony Lane
Poem Written 9-24-11
WORD FOR TODAY: COPYRIGHT
Never make a business decision because a Partner is FORTHRIGHT
Ensure that all the right boxes tick; and the conditions are ALRIGHT
It is not wise to claim exclusivity of an idea because of BIRTHRIGHT
Ensure you talk to the experts, especially in the areas of COPYRIGHT
Such matters are delicate and are not related to any HUMAN-RIGHT
Pirates are merciless; selfish; vision killers; anything but UPRIGHT
© Wole Popoola 2016
My Darling,
My Love,
My Everything,
This is Number One Hundred.
I told you that I’d reach it, and I have.
This will be a long one,
But I hope it says everything it needs to,
I hope ink lands quicker than tears.
This whole century of writing is for you,
You own every penny in this poetic pound,
So at this literary boiling point,
I want you to know
That a century is just the start; I’ll write for you for millennia to come.
That a pound is small change; I want to make you rich.
That Hell, high water, hot water, can do their worst; this love will endure.
This is the truth that all can see,
But only you will ever know,
Will ever truly know,
The eternal honesty I write about.
And these numbers:
126
1071
8
25
17
100
Only mean anything to you and I and us alone.
Love in numerical exclusivity.
Let me count the ways…
You may be one man, but one is all that this one needs,
Or maybe even just a half, as long as you have half of me.
So know that this is a milestone,
A reminder of what’s yet to come,
A promise for longevity,
A poem for you to read and believe,
A poem for you.
Number One Hundred.
You have my heart, and
I love you.
This
Is and is not
About inclusivity
Or exclusivity..
Yet these words
Seem to pop up
To attempt to
Bring clarity to
This..alas there
Is no clarity
Or non-clarity of
This...
Form: