Best Grand Scheme Of Things Poems
As I lay upon a grassy bald in the Great Smoky Mountains on a clear August night, I gaze at the stars and muse about my Creator, the source of all dynamic energy. A tear forms in my eye as I contemplate whether or not he cares about someone as insignificant as me. After all, who am I in his grand scheme of things? A nobody. A nothing. A tiny speck of dust in a seemingly endless universe, full of amazing wonders and mysteries.
I pluck a blade of grass for no other reason than it is there and stare at it for a moment. How many blades of grass must cover the earth, I wonder to myself. Each tiny blade is made of many cells. And each cell contains chloroplasts which are like tiny factories, taking in sunlight and carbon dioxide and turning them into energy in an amazing process called photosynthesis. The green color is worthy of contemplation too. The chlorophyll in the plant absorbs all the colors of the light spectrum except green, which is how it then appears to our eyes. But grass doesn't just cover the land and add to its beauty. It is food for countless living creatures on earth. All these things I have known for years but never gave it much thought till tonight. Why now?
Then it hits me like a warm zephyr. If God put so much thought into creating a blade of grass, he must care about me! Was I not made in his image and likeness? Do I not possess the divine qualities of love, justice, power and wisdom? Does my heart not cry out for the innocents killed in frivolous and unjustifiable wars? Do I not bleed for victims of abuse and neglect? And does my soul not long for a close relationship with my Maker, who has promised better times in the days ahead?
The stars look different now, warmer. The full moon an orb of peace and comfort, hanging in the heavens for my delight. I am loved. I am important. And I will forever be grateful to the One who taught me this invaluable lesson on a hot August night in the Smoky Mountain National Park.
epiphany strikes
stars above gifting insight
me, part of the whole
'Twas the twilight of the year
a twinkling tiara.
December 31st, digits dancing dunes
in the Sahara.
One, two, three, one, two, three,
it's a prance.
A numerical Irish step dance
given a whimsical chance.
In the calendar's corners,
a magical mystery unfurls.
As the date spins and swirls
like a jester's jingling twirls.
One, two, three, one, two, three,
in a line.
A date so divine,
it deserves its own shrine
so fine!
But wait, what's this? A satirical twist!
The date's just a number
it doesn't exist!
One, two, three, one, two, three,
what's the fuss?
Wait… all dates are human-
created
YES, by us!
The numbers are shocked
feeling quite superfluous.
In the grand scheme of things
oh so ridiculous!
So here's to the New Year
let's raise a toast.
To the date that we've come
to boast the most.
With champagne that sparkles
and tastes like the sun.
2023 is yet undone
run from the old
to the new one,
run, run, run!
In the canon of the digits
a lesson we see.
Time is a construct
as fluid as the sea.
So let's celebrate the moments
both big and small.
For, in the end
they're the most
precious of all.
A bird is a wonder
flying in the air
hopping on the ground
or warbling a song
Pure entertainment all day long
A bird is a curiosity
cocking his head this way and that
sucking a worm from the ground
so juicy, so fat
An aerial and arboreal acrobat
A bird is a parent too
in the grand scheme of things
building a nest for babies
until they take wing
Gently nurturing, fiercely protecting
Destination of dreams
Maps are folded and re-folded into pocket sized
destinations of our own heart’s desires
Routes become numbers and numbers become moments
as the planning cycle, with yellow highlighter in hand,
presents a “look forward to” scenario
Well beyond windows of curtained belief
and hedges shaped like poetic scribblings calling to me
The sidewalk of chalk marks in hopscotch etchings,
faded from the sun and foot smeared play dates,
leads to that place of affection filled dreams
and I see over the next sunrise a highway,
empty of detours and beckoning Winnebago wanderings
to this heart, from another, on windswept invitations
penned in frilly fonts and colors of imagination,
reaching deeply inside and holding tightly
A glance back as what is left behind brings a smile,
for what waits ahead is now everything new
In the grand scheme of things, what is found chiseled in fate
proves that destiny is a destination of dreams, of hopes and
of love . . . when that journey brings me to you
HELLO! … Hello … hello (hello … hello …)
OUT THERE! … Out There … out there … (out there … )
Silence---deep, dark, impenetrable---washes over me
My gaze takes in the vast sweep of starlight on a clear night
Knowing all of that it is but a mere speck in the grand scheme of things...
I am frightened
Am I -- are we -- is the human race ALONE
Amidst all of this bewitching splendor
This cold-hearted, stony magnificence
Can it be
July 02 2019
The Universe Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
The whole truth
and nothing but the fu(king truth
That laws, and math, only help solve
local temporary problems,
All of which fall way short
on the infinite needs scale
were we rely on estimates, theories,
and other manmade truths
Still here we are,
alone on a goldilocks planet
All 8 billion of us milling around,
living our lives
guaranteed nothing
other than this moment
and whatever came before
To think otherwise
would be presumptuously human
As for choice is there really any
other than try feed ourselves
and sate the instinct to survive and thrive
We are a civilisation built on
disparate societal values and creeds
Each day is an imperceptible handover
from one generation to the next,
with no guarantee they’ll do a better job
But the real problem is not truth,
It’s why!
Why anything at all,
Why life
Why the fu(k am I asking these questions
I’m apostate, No!
I have little faith, No!
I am honest, No!
A nihilist, No
It’s because I have a sentient,
curious, unapologetic mind
that compels me to ask why!
Sometimes I think
i’d be better off a sponge
floating in crystal clear turquoise balmy oceans
Soaking up oblivious unintelligible surroundings
Indifferent to mortality and the universe,
popping off a few buds every once in a while,
or whatever sponges
brainlessly do to further their species
Such basic life is so very tempting
but just doesn’t sit right
Never to experience love
however fleeting,
Never to endure pain
However crushing,
Never to feel like throwing in the towel,
Even if just to mop blood
off the floor like a sponge
See, I’ve had moments
unimaginably beautiful,
Alongside unconscionably awful ones,
Moments so real
they can’t have been synthesised
by any stretch of any imagination
I believe a God or the universe
created me as a vessel of interpretation
to perceive itself
from my unique perspective
Well not unique per se,
more a personalised handicapped view
I am nothing and everything
in the grand scheme of things
No more! No less!
One that uses swear words
language you may not like,
yet clearly understand
The weirdest part is not the feeling
I’ve written this fu(ked up poem
in previous carnations
It’s my swearing
just seems to be getting worse
By
David Kavanagh
Through veils of bright red pain
They bring us to this life;
Through tears and laughter
They love their small pink wonders
Through all those gates they must pass
On their way to full humanity.
They are lilac-love and discipline
Navigators of our stormy seas
Heedless of themselves for our sakes
They bring us all the soft sweetnesses of home and hearth
That ever call for our return.
So from every tongue
There falls the sacred one-word prayer
When the wide cold world affrights us
When the hand shakes, palsy like
As the heart beats hard against its cage:
In deep of night
When something unseen stirs
The whispered hope is "Mother".
When the flat grey weight of grief
Lies hard across our shoulders
The word that lifts the stone is "Mother".
For scorch of stove, for frostbite sting
We conjure cool and warm with "Mother".
In the place for giving birth: "Mother".
On the battlefield: "Mother".
Whatever pulls us to our knees
To rudely remind us how small we be
In the Grand Scheme of Things,
The idea of Her pulls us up again
For we are hers entire
In a way unique to Her -
Things will be alright
Because She says it shall be so,
And one may never never Never
Disappoint that Sacred One:
"Mother".
Life in an instant, a blip
A rockets fuel cylinders spent
Through the vastness of time, a footprint
In the grand scheme of things, just a dent
Still unique to this planet, perhaps universe
So self aware, blessing or curse
To know you're so small, yet potential so great
Live life with love, throw away hate
Care for the poor, hungry mouths fill
Don't live with regret, that most bitter pill
Reach out, feel, care and give
Fulfill this limited time we live
Greed and envy will not satisfy
Or fill the void you're hiding inside
The truest reward, goes beyond earthly realm
Travel to Heaven with God at the helm
blue planet water
blue sky just scattered sunbeams
dusk's red, unbent light
Brian Johnston
July 28,2014
Poet's Notes:
Isn't it great? Three wonders of nature explained in 17 words. It is so much fun
sharing my love of Physics with others. Lay people in general have no idea the
treasure they are missing. Of course Religious Literalists are the most deprived.
They literally live in the stone age (and the rock is all between their ears!)
Physics is not a replacement for God in my mind, but rather, like a beautiful
sunset, another way of viewing Him, of experiencing His love for us. Physics is
just a different perspective of the same mountain as it were.
God is mysterious (but he is also accessible) . He is a humanist (loving us as
He loves His own son) , a mathematician (the underpinnings of Physics) , a
musician (think of the joy we experience in all harmonies, even discordant
ones) , an artist (the waiting beauty of galaxies far exceeding the imagination
of man) , a humorist (who besides me doesn't think that it is extremely funny
that the Jews, as His chosen people, behaved no differently really than non-
Jews - God granting special favours clearly does not make us better people.
'Just do this for me God and I will never stray! ' Really just hilarious!) , and on
and on.
Really, as usual, Einstein had a very interesting perspective that I think we
should all embrace, 'Reality is an illusion! ' And so it is folks! The only posture
appropriate in the presence of God is one of extreme humility (and gratitude) .
Let me quote one of my own echo poems here, Echo: Alone Too...
Alone….. with the lost! Are prayers ever answered?
Alone….. my heart overwhelmed. Could that be a prayer?
I look at the rainbow as summer squall passes
And find that I'm grateful that I am a player.
Aren't all of life's problems, in the grand scheme of things (if we are honest)
really little more than a 'summer squall? '
contained within crooked pages lies the secret of happiness its a secret noone will ever
find though because the world would fracture into infinite equations quasars would
eviscerate limbs and render human speech impossible which would be catastrophic in the
grand scheme of things i only wish to last forever or maybe for what i write to outlive me
somehow even though im not exactly keats or yeats to be recognised in multiple dimensions
and by multiple personality disorders of the same fictious person would be somehow
endearing albeit somewhat scary and improbable momentous thoughts tend to surround us when
we least expect them to but be it writing a terrible poem about a daffodil or being
punched in the face or travelling through wormholes of improbability at seventeen thousand
times the speed of light at the end of the day when all is done and said humanity is rubbish
We should not destroy this thing that keeps us alive
This dot in the universe
A place where we all can roam
This place we all call our home
We are delusional if we think we have a place
On the grand scheme of things we are small
Smaller than grains of sand almost nothing at all
This blue dot in space is all we have for life
So why do we quarrel, fight and cause strife
This dot is all we know
Nothing above us and nothing below
A little piece of dust hanging in the heaven's
A place where we work and play
A place of war and peace
In the vastness of space we are alone
Yet we fail to help each other along the way
This blue dot in the vast universe
A place where we should not shed it to pieces
This blue dot we call home
This blue dot that we should cherish.
12/28/13
Equal pay for all they’ll abort
It’s the mantra of our Supreme Court
Now some have health care
Marry off any pair
But keeping us poor is their sport
Author's note: To be fair, the "Affordable Care Act" does (through subsidy) re-distribute some wealth. That is why certain politicians hate it! BTW, it's great for the insurance companies and is not the way real health care should be set up. It is, however, an improvement over what we had before. In a similar vein, extending rights to gay people (which is a good thing) also may help them economically. So, a small but important victory has occurred.
n the grand scheme of things, the inequality that pervades our society is getting worse. The politicians say that we have to allow everyone to have expectations and opportunity for improvement. When I hear that statement, I think of trickle down economics. How can it be anything else when big money owns politics?
Within a lifetime....
love has gained yet has also lost
Handed down from all humanities heaviest cost
A child was born then at last will die
The prolific pass of steam branded new lulabye
Within a lifetime filled with mutual success
A latent cavity spurn then transgress
Shades filled with sorrow amidst its darkened gloom
The love embrace sought shoulder to cry no go clean your room
In the grand scheme of things hero sings
Really it doesn't seem to matter not a thing
Shallow briars through parchment claim
Some leaves blow in a filter through its shaded trees
others long to wither with the weather holding fast onto hidden dreams
Yet keep all of your dreams to your self cause no one seems to care
If one gets a hold of your dreams they can steal them I swear
There is no great need by which to pretend
Within a stretched lifetime my good friend
Heaven has shaped its burden he took
In grief our internal sorrow broke
To each spotless lamb a line being drawn in the sand
Within thoughts unleashed to wither in its untimely disaster
Then plagued by fears in preparing for the great hereafter
Some may be even eager to equate certain delegated philosophy
A ravaged heart drifting straight up stream by evil means
One is equates response left unaided like glue yet who knew
Ravaged in certain peril drifting straight up stream
The love embrace sought shoulder to cry
In distant plight taught the eagle to fly
Within every human heart there beats a certain fixed meelody
An exquisite taste filled with humble pie nor that in apathy
We are living in very dangerous times
yet still our nation has settled for ill but faded rhymes
taught to help another brother as a soilder
Pilgrim soilder by which to rely heaven fly by
Pilgrims on a delegated quest to their final rest
Child of mercy fly to the eagles nest like a test
Is what I do really important in the grand scheme of things?
13 billion years, we get 80, what a sweet little fling...
knowledge is relative,
let me put it into perspective,
geocentrism used to be accepted fact,
man has to tell himself he understands, reality is simply a pact
christians, jews, and muslims, divided over variations of the same "god"
read about pantheism, monotheism just seems a little odd
I mean, to me, religion just seems backwards,
you accept what you're raised on and then learn the factors,
now, I could be wrong,
but would you buy a house or car and learn about it as you go along?
dont get me wrong, the scriptures have some good advice and genuine homilies,
but when you teach people what to think, not how to think, there's no autonomy,
some people think without religion there's no standard for morality,
do you really need a 3,000 year old book to know geniality?
man created religion to instill order, mitigate death, and give us "meaning",
so what if life is meaningless, it's liberating, quit your weaning,
we're all in search of structure and substance,
self educate and be your own compass,
look, i just think this generation could change the world like never before,
they say you'll fall for anything if you don't know what you stand for,
so, throw out what you know, i've got a new petition,
it's not going to be easy, it 'll take some cognition,
but really, are you not tired of submission?
forget right and wrong, this is a remission,
let's have some ambition and create new traditions
What is it about me
that I cannot place you
in the picture painted by the years
the life has already spent?
Do you merely lurk,
and leave at a much later time?
Or,
maybe
you are staying
because
you
are
meant
to
stay.
Then,
stay.
If you may.
I pray.
While I find a place (for us)
in the picture of eternities,
the gods must be
hiding,
conspiring;
themselves amusing.
Ah, the grand scheme of things -
a forgetting.
A familiar spirit we feel -
a remembering.
(Note) This piece was inspiredly written for the beautiful souls - even the
strangers - I have met along the way and will still come upon in my lifetime. To
each special one, you have stirred quite a familiar spirit within. A remembrance
of forgotten past, I suppose. Thank you for letting me peak through your
soul's window. The veil of forgetfulness has never been thin as now to me. You
have so given me a gift I shall treasure in the moments I may tend to forget
who I truly am - a being with a soul.