Best Inaction Poems
So... she loves you
but must leave too
a frightening thought
yet, one so true
A book she writes
dedicated to you
in return she received
a mere line or two
Her doubts confirmed
by this blatant inaction
no plea for forgiveness
or promise of retraction
Lay
You imbibe the diatribe,
quaffing the jibe for a bribe
to remain silent and acquiescing.
Struck mute to suit
your unfussed cowardice
in failing to speak up,
when you know the throng is wrong like you
to remain silent,
a seething flock in shock.
Inertia, inherent,
in the same inane inaction.
Letting Go and Calm Witnessing
When U have no solution
You tried it all; Fate Insists you fall. You no longer stand tall
Such moments come often
We try to forget the falls - feeling nothing, helps find your nobodyness
If we hold up a "failure at Solution"
That moment is a mix of doing nothing AND "doing along" with the Universe
When you felt nobody cares (loss of attention)
That mix of nobody with everybody, Multiverse
Is deep insight: becoming nobody makes us everybody with Universe
BACKGROUND: I was a Hindu as one born into such a family in South Africa may be a Hindu, away from India. This meditation is similar in the impetus to Jesus's frequent TWIST of OPPOSITES in the New Testament. The high will be brought low; the meek shall inherit the earth - or more; dying is the way to real living: mainly Matthew 5, 6, 7 or The Sermon on the Mount.
Let us cite a few examples from Paul: I am strong when I am weak; I can do nothing but in Christ I can do anything and everything --
2 Corinthians 12:10 and 2 Corinthians (Epistle) 4:7.
Shalom, shalom to Great Harrys & Marys, Vijays & Ordinarys. LuvYa
No Satisfaction With Inaction
We really do lack having satisfaction,
Due to governments glaring inaction;
Arms with ammo,
All should go;
Not doing duty did cause a distraction.
Created this after hearing some of the
South Florida high school students.
Jim Horn
The Inaction of Actions
Grandma,
always told me to be kind.
She told me never to forget.
she told me to always do my best.
Grandpa,
said much the same thing.
Yet he would also question...
Was I kind?
If I was not.
I should always remember;
to be kind.
Grandpa passed away.
I did not get the chance
to be there.
I cried.
Grandma was sick.
Before she went to heaven...
I was at her side.
She asked,...
again...
"Are you kind?"
(a whisper...)
and she smiled,
as she knew the reply.
"Yes." I answered.
"I have tried all my life.
I believe... I am"
(Born-again... I am)
I have been kind to others.
But that is not the same.
I have learned.
It was not the lesson.
I am kind.
Part of the humankind.
Part of the race
that has "kind"
right in it's creation.
God bless the human-kind.
His hand ever in our making.
Kindness,
a state of being,
but also
an action.
Pick up the paper and bring it inside.
Put it on the table or near the chair.
Put the dishes away if they are in the rack.
If they are not, do them from scratch.
(add to list as you like...
There are never enough pages...
to write them all down.)
Kindness has so many meanings,
it has no endings at all.
It grows when shared,
and can only blossom
surrounded in the presence
of honest love
and a giving heart.
Nonsense feeders, just useless
Impeders, slow and lazy in a walk
To cake, sluggish decievers wasting
Space; even though theres plenty of
It they still waste it we're sure of it
Coulden't they be in canary yellow?
So all could avoid the stupid fellows.'
Have they got familiy? Who'd own
These bums, david hurly might be one?
He's quite the lyre-bird we've heard.'
In thrall to the who-lers mark my words!
Sack the lot.' Kick them out.' Carping
Skiters, that have no clout.'
Lets be frank' who would want to de-bank?
It seems like communisam.?
Not just an odd buisniss schsim'
Theres no balance of books? At first and
Second last looks.' Theres big payouts
On ideas' and moves on genders, its really
Ballons flags and suspenders, what return
Is envusaged? As society is ravaged.'
Is there ground for class actions, against
Legal infractions? Is a bearer not promised
To be paid, to be honest ' as we note this
Reality, we observe rampant insanity a rejection
Of reason, a late summer madness amidst a
Lowering of ammounts? taken in or out of accounts!
Yet inflation considered shoud not rationality
Be delivered, good service for custom, not fabrication
And bunkum.! Is the free market not told us? in
The world vision, and action thats always sold us'
A value a co-hesion for world benefit its ever reasoned
Is this its reflection? There must be collective
Rejection!
Corruption reigns while silence is served.
We hone their knives with indifference,
keep polishing their plates with our fatigue.
The reckless and the cruel—
they feast well, for the tables are laid.
A democracy isn’t taken;
it’s surrendered, a napkin at a time.
We end the banquet by taking the plates away.
Sometimes you feel without aim
Yet all the time want your name
To bear moment and some fame
It feels awful to be game
To fate’s arrow that lands lame
And wants you just to be tame
Inaction’s an evil maim
Active inaction, bliss thunder
At play, within our form
Liquid light, luminous wonder
Divine magnetism warm
Soma nectar dripping
Heart elixir sipping
Rapture, oh so gripping
Deep meditation
Active inaction
22-October-2021
Quietus
Swirling currents within at play
Bliss mist bubbles making heart sway
Why would we choose to transcend form
When rapture unbound’s here to stay
Touch of God, both tender and warm
Gently inner glow does transform
Mind-body, soul and spirit one
Imbibe elixir of love swarm
07-February-2022
Complacency is like a sand timer,
each grain a moment slipping
through, a slow trickle of
potential, filling the void
of inaction, until the last
grain falls, and we
find ourselves in
the stillness,
staring at the
empty glass,
haunted by
the echoes
of time gone,
wondering
where our
dreams
have
fad
ed
The chubbiness of your dense casing
Is an insulator indeed
The small still voice is hindered permeate
The depth of a copious essence
A mind never regenerated
In new known ways to profit
Hence your way is wood as you cuddle it
Time’s river drowning dreams afar shore
As you trot in ways antique
With golden opportune wilting
Hence amity is fog
I fear many things.
I fear I stay complacent in my own misery.
Time is of the essence,
yet action for change is unattainable
And I speak of change possible for myself,
which is perhaps the most upsetting point to note,
for my limits are set on a glass roof
I fear I will shatter with my feet on the ground.
I fear my own fear.