Best Impinge Poems
Some people can be so ignorant
I know they're not to blame
They see me in my wheelchair
And say “Aw, isn't it a shame”?
I say “Hello, I’m fine”
And you don't know what to do
Just because I am disabled
Don't assume my brain is too
Whenever you get stressed
You can walk along the beach
With no facilities for the disabled
To me it’s out of reach
I'd like to go on holidays
But I stay at home instead
Because no matter where I go
I need a hoist to go to bed
My bowel and my bladder
Are affected by my medication
It angers me when disabled toilets
Have poor sanitation
On the bus, the driver puts down a ramp
And I can hear you whinge
When your shopping trolley is in my way
And sometimes my wheels impinge
I wait at zebra crossings
And I know my green cross code
But the timing on the lights means
I don't have time to cross the road
My legs may no longer work
But my brain power is perfect
So next time you see me in the town
Please have some respect
If you'd like to know how I am
Don't be afraid to ask
My disability isn't catching
And it isn't a difficult task
I'll tell you how I am
And I’ll ask how you are too
Overlook my disability
It isn’t hard to do
We accept the GREAT Grace of Jesus, works of pure love
So we get eternity and so much else
Does it mean we defend those who steal and hurt others
again and again and again and again (only westerners)
When we suspect Syria used chemical weapons, we do not wait
We bomb the same day (in whose Name? Hubris, not Jesus)
So, let us help other nations prosper, reduce emigrants
And we will not have to return precious artefacts, pay millions in fines
And have courts tell us, "Don't separate refugee children from Moms"
Because we are forgiven much, given much (USA!) and need reminding:
Don't turn refugees as you did Jews in the 1940s from these shores
Or intern Japanese Americans because we went to war against Germany
(But preferred to turn yellow when race matters impinge on humanity)
Race matters .... yes, race matters: even in forgiving, it seems
No, to the question as title to this poem: Let's get real, kinder. Kinda ...
Wisdom murmurs amid paucity of things—
seekers contemplative in cross-legged trance.
Pondering vaguities pensive meditation brings—
to apprehend with nonchalance of glance.
While to acolytes, such subtleties impinge—
denied are those of stifled grasp.
For in their minds a fetid dinge,
mundane failure to enclasp.
Stunted ones thus held in thrall,
ever signal their incurious pose.
While unmuted is a mounting wrawl,
from those abhorrent in appose.
The blind above in fog would lead,
who daily task us for our gaze.
They tire us with unending screed,
and we ignore while they abrase.
Rather would I summon stillness—
watch quiet water smooth a stone.
Free myself of this world’s illness—
love gently life I choose alone.
Milton’s Paradise Lost is a book I sometimes dip into. For modern
readers it does not lend itself to a quick browse. It’s pretty clear from the
start who dunnit.
My version in paperback contains insightful explanatory notes.
Apparently “Science” in the Tempter’s words“ O Sacred,
Wise and Wisdom giving Plant, Mother of Science”,* being derived from the Latin verb “scire”, really means what we now understand as “knowledge”.
This note seems to be for the benefit of such innocents who are
unaware of the process of diachronic semantic change, and who
may also entertain misgivings about nuclear power plants.
Newton’s apple might jolt us into considering matters of considerable
gravity.
Today we are concerned more about fallout than with the Fall, more
with the atom than with Adam.
Science is not primarily concerned with moral questions, yet
we have all benefited from science. That science has also
furnished Man with the means of self-extermination and involves environmental pollution on a global scale we must accept as collateral damage, call it what you will.
Science is not primarily concerned with moral questions.
Even though scientific knowledge is based on the axiom that our sensory perceptions, the experiments, observations and theories of science cohere,
being phenomena in one and the same time-space continuum, a scientist
should not be diverted from his or her quest by troublesome thoughts about extraneous factors, be they social, political or moral in nature, that impinge on the awareness of one indivisible reality.
In Milton’s day “science” simply meant “knowledge”.
Milton was concerned with the problem of good and evil, the relationship of God and Man, the conflict between Truth and Mammon, not with the complex realities of our modern industrial high-tech world.
Perhaps cogito ergo sum, that premise of the modern scientific method, also has a moral dimension.
Milton’s Paradise Lost is a book I occasionally dip into.
The Discipline of Failure
By John Herlihy
There is a discipline to failure that no one can deny;
We are set up to fail miserably, by others on the sly.
Risk can be calculated into the mix to heighten success;
You cannot achieve higher goals if you settle for less.
There is more discipline to failure than there is to success;
Failure teaches us about caution and scrutiny, I must confess.
To examine what went wrong in spite of concerted efforts,
And to learn from our many mistakes like seasoned experts.
My individual success may produce unreasoned envy,
Coloring with darkness the meaning of the word friendly.
My failure only exposes me to the vulgarity of people’s insults,
But insults do not necessarily impinge upon my final results.
Success by definition includes the inevitability of failure;
Without the risk of failure, mediocrity will be our savior.
Failure makes the drudgery of digging holes into a fine art;
We dig our own graves and then lay down with a broken heart.
Risk-taking is now a fashionable impulse in the modern-day salon;
To ward off failure, we cling to it tightly like a police baton.
We take risks in the hope of achieving a glorious success,
To ward off evil and make sure that failure has every redress.
Make every effort to control risk, otherwise risk will control you;
What seems at first a pot of gold may only turn into a boiling stew.
There is a time to have courage and express the need to be bold;
But recklessness only invites failure and the feeling of being sold.
Hold fast to the discipline of failure as a means of achieving success;
By God, I will ultimately succeed in my goals and never settle for less.
A clear morning rose over the copper-tinged rocks,
the serene sky stayed the same after down;
but the lighthouse did not trust that calmness,
then a horrendous rumbling made it suddenly frown.
A apocalyptic event was to occur in minutes,
Poseidon rode his horses to impinge horror,
making the foaming waves resemble ghosts
who frightened the lighthouse with a loud roar.
The sentinel's foes weren't pirates, but the waves themselves,
and engulfed by those giants, it could barely fight or even breathe;
and doomed, she heard Poseidon's voice in the mouth of whales,
not glad with the volcano's eruption making waves boil and seethe.
Written on 4/12/2016
Experiment, the worth of kings,
no bonafide adventuring
not impinge, glory, noticing,
the trial of "over" ~ SING, BUT SING!
And over, 'til the mode be right,
that last decision, still up tight.
I've felt it oft, all nerves on edge,
have gone too far, my reasons dredge!
It is Inventing, cant resign,
the pulse of difference is my rhyme,
I'll just dive in, for one more time,
then still dig in, this idea's mine!
What closer skill can Man divine,
than right to change, with purpose fine,
not to relinquish my own kind
but build with vision, some new find!
To heal some soul . . . . from mortal bind!
Working with Inventors from the Midwest, some Immigrants, some of the ideas we saw become developed were ~ The radial tire, the round swing, round hay bale,
vise-grip, portable phone, highway breakers, tarps for Semis, ethanol plants, water cleaning equipment, faux diamonds, negative ion air machines, compost ideas, turn signals for autos. We worked on Patents in Omaha, Nebraska ~ Inventors from Denmark, etc. Ideas built America, Corporations like Sears Roebuck, helped the little guy. Let's get America back to those "ideals!"
(I wrote this PRIOR to the election, but many of the same questions remain)
I cannot tell you where I stand,
I don't know what to think,
Our beloved country, USA
Is standing on the brink.
The candidates for POTUS
Are questionable, at best,
And I cringe to think what each might do
When they're finally put to test.
See, one is spreading vitriol,
The other lies at length,
And their affinity for bickering
Just saps our nation's strength.
They seem to have forgotten
They're supposed to be our "voice",
And the selfish aims they represent
Just further clouds our choice.
I've never been more worried
About the future that's in sight,
And what our votes may bring about,
Whether leaning left or right.
I'm beleaguered for my children,
And for my grandkids, too,
For this eventuate selection
Will impinge on all they do.
The problems that we're facing,
As a people and a land,
Have never been more critical
Than the issues now at hand.
Our economy and human rights
Are balancing on edge,
And terrorism spreads unchecked
As the caliphate is fed.
New racial tensions plague us,
Foreign policies are unclear,
Immigration needs attention,
Health insurance crises near.
Our defense systems are ailing,
Our penal system weak,
Our cyber systems vulnerable,
And crime has reached a peak.
Our preference is for party lines
Over unity, of late,
And it seems we've traded kindness
For animosity and hate.
Never in my memory
Has this country needed more,
A leader with true character
And integrity at their core.
Yet as we enter crunch time
The lesser evil seems the choice,
For our votes will have no confidence
As we lack a steadfast voice.
I wish our path was clearer
As election day draws close,
And I wish I could be hopeful
For the land I love the most.
So, I'm praying for a miracle
And a light to shine the way,
But I fear we're at dear mercy's sake,
For our beloved USA.
By Sashi. Prabhu(zeauoxian) 1/3/2012.
Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared.
From the vertical column sans a crown of leaves of rotted dead wood,
Once, which was in its own right a magnificent coconut tree where it stood.
Freshness, splendor, Vitality and flexibility of a live tree all depleted and gone,
T’was a pertinent choice for the woodpecker mates to build a home foregone.
Abundantly birdies flock, Pigeons, robins, mynahs, hornbills, cranes and parrots,
On the evergreen nearby tamarind tree, but the woodpeckers my eyes ferrets.
From that eventful day my eyes they set upon,
Their wood pecking bills would on the bark sculpt and impinge on.
A homely hole to drill,
Their head moving rhythmically and looks like a cap with red frill.
Twenty five days back they first arrived I lucidly recollect,
Ten days, a pair of hatched altricial chicks, mates from adversaries’ have to protect.
One morn had me glancing to the oval cavital hole on the bark,
And feasted my eyes on feeding chicks being readied, their lives to embark.
Blissful and content , I recollect now I sat a bit longer to observe and discern,
Glorious hues, auger bill, cap with red frills, of the peckers as they take their unambiguous turns.
To zip across like beige, buttery yellow plumaged darts across the lush foliage all green,
Within, watchable bounds to fetch, insects, worms and saps as nutriment routine.
The chicks I saw they peek out of the shielded barky holes with awe,
Strength it seems to me have filled their wings bill and sharpened claw.
Now I wonder if I can listen to the joyous feminine “chrr”
and the shrill masculine “kwirr”.
As the young chick in the hole frolicking, giving it a try to fly,
Away in the wide world after saying a good bye onto the sky very high…………
Now the mates without emotions, kerfuffle and ado,
To each other, their home and their prying neighbour me have bid “adieu”.
Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared
I reckon I've seen about everything in my nigh four-score years.
Obnoxious teens, obnoxious elders and unpleasant Wall-Mart cashiers,
And those baggy pants with the crotch nearly reaching to the knees,
But folks with a cell phone in their ear compare to none of these!
Some people sport spiked hair dyed orange, red or green.
Others with rings piercing their lips - a weird sight to be seen!
Gorgeous ladies flaunt tacky tattoos that seem mighty *****.
Plus all of that, they have a cell phone glued to the ear!
Vexatious ringtones on some cellular phones cause me to cringe,
'Specially if in a fine bistro or church my serenity they impinge!
The "William Tell Overture" in a concert is mighty fine to hear,
But please spare me that tinny tune from the cell phone in your ear!
Some use their cell phones while driving - to all others oblivious,
Never minding that such inattention could be very injurious!
Seems to me 'twould be tricky trying to concentrate and steer,
With that consarned cellular phone sticking in the ear!
Cell phones are an improvement in communications, I suppose,
With their music, cameras, computers and a dial that glows.
But, alas, for future generations I often wonder and fear:
Will babes be born with a cell phone protruding from the ear?
Entry for Simon Rogerson's "Let's Explore Digital Technology" Contest
(13 Feb 22)
SALVATION ACCORDING TO FAITH
“Help, help!”, I shout out loud, in fear.
‘HELP, HELP!’, echoes of my voice I hear.
Over and over, impinge in my mind
Closer and closer, it gets so near.
Louder and louder my cries, my plea
Further and further they go from me…
……they’re gone.
Silence now reigns, it deafens me
Panic has broken and overtakes me
Faster and faster my pulse is raised
Harder and harder the pounding, the beat.
Tighter and tighter I clutch my head
Greater and greater, the feeling of dread.
……I’m lost.
“Why? Why?” I asked the mirthless grass
“Speak, speak!” I bark at mirrored glass
Angrier and angrier, my voice phonate
Wilder and wilder, my eyes gyrate
Darker and darker my thoughts evoke
Uglier and uglier my moods provoke
…..I weep.
'Non Compos Mentis' is my best state of mind
'Caveat Emptor'!! …as I cannot be kind
Nastier and nastier I’m down in the dumps?
Lower and lower I’m in the doldrums?
Crazier and crazier, I spit at my shadow
Weaker and weaker, …my life is so shallow!
….I pray!
“Come, come”, to only You I turn.
“Come, come”, my life is so forlorn.
Dearer and dearer my love for God
Stronger and stronger, my body, my soul
Forever and ever my faith shall hold
Redeemer, redeeming, The Lord God of old.
….I’m saved.
(The Fg 81.5.8)
Form:
Avast emotional gulf manifested; courtesy
series of unfortunate events; sundered
biologically accorded, cherished, enshrined
paternal bond; resultant dereliction defies,
justifies, ratifies...dissonance; unbearable
hindsight excoriates impropriety reviewing
dirty deeds done dirt cheap; impossible mission
to excise indelibly etched psychological
impacted repercussions upon mine fountainhead;
weighing excruciating deserved self loathing;
permanently deplorable depravity yoked;
unyielding choke hold, no longer asking
forgiveness, but airing errant culpability;
dada's guilt indefensible impropriety; begetting
permanent fallout; exacting just desserts; bitter
regret beast of burden (oxe see moron) housed
within self made villain; unjust to impinge your
providential opportunities, whose blessed smarts
plus unfettered, unencumbered, undaunted...
daring do promise productive existence par
excellence, versus anxiety riddled torturous
legacy writ large across countenance this papa;
analogously das scribe bing mortal epitaph, while
dark shadows haunt this edgy rusty knight, who
once pawn time shrugged off mischievous
lascivious actions as payback; recognizably erred;
misperceptions (mine); deduced ex post facto,
when the missus doled out unpleasantries;
exploding anger; vented regarding significant
roiling perturbations harkening to her own
unrepentant poisonous stinging toxicity;
delivered courtesy birth parents; hands lack
king awareness to rock cradle with tender
loving care, hence burdened with childhood
tsoris prior to accepting yours truly as life
contra dance partner these preceding xxii+
years avoiding unseemly behavior; aware
that the mother of our two darling daughters
doth love and forgive me, though recouping
similar results with first offspring may remain
tense, and many years past not a happy camper.
Though tenuous the winds impinge
on late October's brittle fringe,
bereft of August's saffron glow
when brilliant sky did ardent flow
formidable in cyan tinge,
immutable will frost astringe
hot tangerine of summer singe;
no haven for the zeal to go.
Demurely comes first winter's twinge
as last of maple leaves unhinge.
Soon falcons after doves will go
'cross interludes of vestal snow,
while eaves sketch icicles' syringe.
10/23/17
What are you to impinge on our doors,
We quiver in awe and relinquish our live?
What are you that you detract,
Our beloved before our eyes?
What are you that you drag our beloved,
So slowly and painfully?
What are you that you torment our beloved,
While we look helpless and powerless?
Why are we to live in fear of your name?
There have been names, but
No name is more fearful than yours.
Are we fighting a losing battle against you?
Or is this the beginning of our ending lives?
Aids, just what are you?
Ages ago, in the beginning
God said "Let there be light."
And Satan made his attempt
at darkening man's insight;
having fallen himself by denying
God's power at heaven's height.
Adam and Eve fell for his lies
and disobeyed God's command
to leave that one tree alone
just one tree in all of Eden-land.
The tree of the knowledge
of good and evil must have been grand.
The Light of the World
met his Father's challenge
on the cross, And He changes
lives still today, but I cringe
at the thought of God-asking me,
"did your light, the darkness impinge?"
John, Revelation's time traveler of old,
foretells visions of not needing the moon or sun.
New Jerusalem need never fear a black-out
of understanding, for there dwells the Holy One
the Living light. God Himself will be all the light
mankind will need when time has become undone.
March 17, 2022
Living Light Unseeking Seeker