Best Inattentive Poems
I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.
Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer, I started to flounder.
I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity," I said..., and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.
The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".
At length, I returned to my seat
With much applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.
Categories:
inattentive, children, funny, humor, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
We live today in a world of great tumult
And of rising uncertainty and anxiety
Which pervade the world stage like a cancer
Despite soaring technological advances
Our environment and our home Earth
Are bearing an unimaginable burden
People are wondering what must be done
To right these wrongs and adjust our course
Before we turn the corner to “No Return”
Tyranny, Poverty, Disease, and War
Are still with us today since the beginning
Of time and are mankind’s greatest shame
God may be with us intellectually
But mankind must be self-reliant
To survive an inattentive, distant deity
People see answers to these enigmas
Sounds are made, echoes are heard
But nothing comes back in response
Frustration reigns supreme for many
Fear and anxiety multiple all concerns
There can never be easy answers
*******
Tyranny still reigns alive in many countries
As the actions of tin-eared dictators abound
And are on ample display for all to see
Poverty is still a shameful, terrible curse
Which afflicts the most unfortunate
And is paid lip service by the wealthy
Disease is a scourge still in our world
And still felt by those most in need
And never enough is done to change this
War is the ultimate insult to mankind
And its wide-felt swath and affliction
Plagues yet our modern, enlightened world
What to make of all these challenges
Is not easy for any of us to digest
And let alone understand why
Yet understand, comprehend we must
If we want a better world for all to live in
A Sisyphean task at its very best
Man still holds the key to make change
Positive and real for our troubled Earth
But can it ever be really so in the end
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
Schoeningen, Germany (October 16, 2014)
(Tercet unrhymed poetic format)
Categories:
inattentive, allegory, change, earth, history,
Form:
Narrative
Little Coffee House
It’s the coffee counter line-up
A conveyor belt of people
Ready for their little treat
A little piece of comfort
From their favorite beanery
I strum as I watch them
My guitar like an old friend
They should say hello to -
But they never do
Little Coffee House
My band’s playing for you
But what do you do
You just want want want your cups
Your little coffee mugs
So move up to the front
Funky-spiked hair dude
Jokes with the worker
He leans on the counter
(I think that he likes her)
But people are waiting
And he’s hesitating
So all the shoe tappers
Start to harass him -
Hurry up and pick one fast
Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just need need need your cups
Your little coffee mugs
And that little coffee buzz
I look around the room
There’s a girl in a red shirt
Looking out of the window
She sips on a latte -
I think she’s an artist
She lays out her sketchbook
But she doesn’t start to draw
She turns to face the wall –
What are we doing wrong?
We don’t have to be inspiration
But how ‘bout entertainment?
Are we a distraction?
I can’t help but asking
Are we an invasion
Of the air?
Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just sip sip sip your cups
Your little coffee mugs
Not listening to us
There’s a man on a laptop
There’s a girl reading Sherlock
There’s a guy on a cell phone
A boy eating Jell-O
I want them to look up
If they’d look up they’d see us
Are we so bad we should shut up?
Because I feel like we just suck -
I feel like we’re not even here
We’re jamming
To inattentive ears
Oh Little Coffee House
I feel I’m at a loss
We’re playing here for you
But what do you do
Your busy coffee mouths
Keep sippin’ till it’s out
If only you’d listen
You’d hear what you’re missin’
We’re not
Just another gig
Someday, we’ll make it BIG
Sip sip sippin’ cups
Those little coffee mugs
Sip ‘em till they’re out
Little Coffee House
Categories:
inattentive, confusion, girl, people, places,
Form:
Lyric
NO ONE REALLY CARES
Part 2
With a scheme from a team of human traitors who are unclean,
Straight up extreme and using it in a deceitful way,
Holding KNOWLEDGE of natural law, but manipulated bringing us decay,
May we all someday, see the lies and tainted blatant statements,
If I spoke this way in person, you would probably say to drop it,
So listen closely and see these are natural law compliments,
Right now as you read, Yes this very moment,
You have to agree, you have no spiritual mindful acknowledgement,
To any of my poetically written comments,
This message has been sent and must be put into action but don't rush,
Even this modern day scribe, alive and learning who to trust,
Most of us hide, side with the blind, ignorantly trusting our governments,
Raise the alarm!! Dam it's for real, we don’t even get the hint,
We are inattentive, lack being inventive, so we sit back and don't get this,
Ignorantly we rely on our current structured system,
So its not surprising we collectively invest our minds into everything,
We aren’t seeing, therefore we open the door to negative action,
Because the reality we are living is a huge distraction,
Our interactions of actuality doesn’t impact us enough,
To even contemplate bringing up spiritual investigations which is a must,
We lack legit validity and the understanding of true love,
But some of us have a chance, a little advanced with minds that rush,
Who gather up enough information to start questioning,
Asking "who in the hell, do we really trust"?
Knowledge into action with a robust mind removing the rust,
Starting to see my way forward I wipe off the dust,
With a small thought of disgust, I laugh in joy,
Enjoying what I’m seeing while inner cleaning with no fuss,
So we must trust in ourselves, ask for help from inside,
We are blind but in time we may get a small glimpse,
When we rinse our minds, we gain insight that’s simple,
Your physical body is the temple,
You planted a seed and what's being revealed is the whole apple,
The allegorical story of Adam and eve is factual,
So listen up and go learn about the Natural Law Principles.
Quincy Mac
date written: 22.12.2015
Categories:
inattentive, allegory, care, earth, light,
Form:
Free verse
in an
angst- saturated
moment i find you there in
my travel bag, injured by the neglect of
a poorly screwed-on sparkling water bottle cap:
my beloved poetry notebook of fifteen years. You are
now one-third soaked and stained at the top. I shudder to
think of throwing you away or burying you in the cemetery of
old college diaries and love letters. You were my faithful collector of
anxiety and pleasure, cleverness and drought, loneliness and victory;
oftentimes tucked away for months at a time as creative energies were
diverted to other outlets. Like a loyal dog whose master travels away, you
never gave up on me. How many times the tears stained your inky pages
long before I even knew that sparkling water was a thing! When friends
moved away, or betrayed me (how i wished THEY would move away), when loved ones died too young, or old ones lived too long (how they wished THEY could die instead), when my son was slaying dragons and my daughter was breaking up with an inattentive boyfriend; when my wife struggled with her sisters, or when I agonized through physical therapy or cancer surgery, you were patiently there for me. Even as my joints and stitches eventually healed, you continue to be my invaluable companion, both for my history you contain to the left, and for the blank, hope-filled pages to the right. Like me, you are aging, stained, lumpy, scarred, but two-thirds useful as i write under the stain.
///NOTE: the shape above roughly mirrors the unstained portion of my notebook, which I will continue to use in its deformed and lumpy new state!
Also, no poems were harmed in the making of this poem. I write in pencil, so the water didn't render any previous pages unreadable, thankfully!///
Categories:
inattentive, poetry, sad,
Form:
Free verse
(in memoriam, Eugene Lawler, d. January 29, 2012, aged 83 years)
--- Note: "The singing machine" is a not so tongue-in-cheek reference to Gene and his penchant for singing whenever and wherever he wished, as well as to his karaoke
equipment and his nickname at bars that featured karaoke nights. ---
You fancied yourself a singer,
and indeed you were.
What songs we heard from you
you had made your own,
and you gave them freely
to all who would listen
(though we were just a few
who were, at times, inattentive.)
Time and remembrance may color
the images you left behind,
and the sentimental songs
you sang (and scribed on silver disks
for us to hear when, and if, we will)
may prod us to recall
your willful, dour demeanor
which could bloom into benevolence
or darken further in stormy sneers
at tardiness, or at perceived
maltreatment of any sort.
You were your own arbiter of behavior
who kept before you expectations
of what was appropriate, for yourself
and for us, the others of your kind.
We were few (still fewer now),
who flocked together on occasion
to celebrate, in quiet fashion,
whatever anniversary we chose --
perhaps your passing date
will become another to be marked.
And your voice, reproduced mechanically,
amplified, may remind us of our loss,
and of yours.
Categories:
inattentive, angst, anniversary, death, friendship,
Form:
Free verse
Being in the mind of a savage.
All I know is how to act ferociously.
Manipulating the minds of the weak, fearful, and the victims.
Beating them into submissive.
Emasculating the strongest, just to see him break.
Dismiss him of his role, and never to see his family again.
Being in the mind of a savage.
I destroy, divide, and conquer.
tearing families apart.
Over yonder, as they scream,
begging to be saved
but nobody hears them.
Breaking the spirits of the koons, mannu, aunty, sambo,
and the uncle toms, as they all have a common factor.
They're all nostalgia.
The animal within me is untamed, uncontrollable, and inhumane.
I'm superior by nature, at least what I see.
Being in the mind of a savage.
What you call crimes are white privileges to me,
justification, rationalisation, & beliefs
set me free each time.
All I know is to kill, steal, destroy, & reverse the cycle of genetics.
I changed their culture,
to fear, tough love, attitude, punishment, violence & a career.
Sabotage the mind, break em' down, then bob the builder em'.
When you stop em' for believing in themselves,
oppression appears.
Being in the mind of a savage.
Other savages, keep em' isolated, uneducated, impoverished and oppressed. There's a few who escapes but we own them too.
We love to be entertained, as we mock, advertise, and stereotype em'. Less sensation and lacking sensitiveness
in the terminal fibers, keeps me acting viciously.
Unintelligent, laziness, frightfulness, ignorance, backwardness, violent, inarticulate, sexual frustrated, hunger, inattentive, unable to control themselves, & in care of, are all the signs of a n****.
Created a cultural matrix of positive
and negative feelings for me,
and each time, I justify my actions by logical reasoning with em'.
Ohhh, forgiving are they. Just to do it once more, and that once more became many more.
Being in the mind of a savage.
If any shall become bold, intimidating or become a threat, we shall lynch you.
Propaganda, genocide, & economics are all profits for the savages.
Paternalism plays a major role as
terrorizing and restrain are easily justified.
Keep em' from achieving social equality
as they become more bumptious on the streets.
Being in the mind of a savage.
Categories:
inattentive, 5th grade, 6th grade,
Form:
Free verse
an owl flies so low
over packed winter's white snow...
inattentive mouse
Categories:
inattentive, nature,
Form:
Haiku
When one reaches the heady heights of longevity
frail as in wear and tear physical agility,
a license to look upon each imminent birthday
celebrated by all in sundry but one’s bemused self,
as a reminder of the ultimate arbiter, time
soon to come a calling with his rigid agenda.
With every sunrise this perpetual antagonist
whom delves in give and take creates the perfect diagnosis,
when he allows one a moment to dwell in years of their youth
then a fraction of an anomaly, forgotten one’s name.
© Harry J Horsman 2016
Categories:
inattentive, destiny,
Form:
Blank verse
Companion.
Comparable, compassionate compatibility.
Committal, compound or common availability.
Glorification panoistic or repudiation ability.
Inattentive, inappreciable, impudent cruelity.
Repletion straggled and monolith joky stability.
Licentious, monolatry rendering ostensibility.
Categories:
inattentive, caregiving
Form:
Name
Images of incineration interrupt
Infernal imagery imposes in intricate intervals, illegible to those ill with ignorance
Inadequate ideologies imply impoverish ways, never to be incriminated no matter how idiotic
Inattentive to our imaginary inflation issues
Improvident to the waste of industrial indispensables
Keep ignoring the impending invasion and downward inclination or intercept the intrusion on your intellect and intervene
Invent instinctively into your own invincibility
An influx of idiots with no positive incline, our inability to feel insults our intelligence
Intolerant insecurities about income and the "it" influences impair our inner insight
This IS an impeachment against the institutions for informing the incredulous and inciting the irrelevant
I will stand intrepidly, inheriting the impending inferno
Categories:
inattentive, corruption, fire, future, image,
Form:
ABC
The roar of the neighbor's tractor
as it pulls the cultivator,
the buzz of the helicopter
spraying the planted field,
familiar sounds of summer
near my little rural home.
A distant howling coyote
coveting my clucking hens,
the crowing of the rooster
proclaiming his domain,
the swish of my sickle as
I decimate the weeds
are ordinarily unnoticed by
my inattentive ear.
An unusual commotion
in the bright blue summer sky,
alerts me that the eagles
are having
a raucous conversation.
My attention is drawn
to the cooing of a dove.
We play hide and seek
as I try to locate him.
I stop my mundane chore
to listen.
I hear
the chirp of a cricket,
the rustle in the trees,
the swish of a humming bird,
the buzzing of the bees
and flies,
the scolding of a jay,
cawing of the crows,
croaking of a frog,
and then
my ear attunes
to the soprano
in the choir of the birds.
Happy summer sounds.
Categories:
inattentive, summer,
Form:
Free verse
Where then the emotive happiness
with such procrastinated enchantment brings
desirous supposedly encountered
and romantic wanderings heady cadence
which pins the inattentive to the skins of longing
It is said to be lost in the surge
to swirl with giddy waltz
yes to tremble ecstatic on the threshold of lips
an unreasonable itch
and to be sated would only encourage it
What diversions shall bring only mindful
or some infatuated participant
passions electrical would claim and yearn if it did not
where then the ragged beast of breathless
who then is this legend of a word
To what aspirations of penultimate heights
carries the feather profound
to burnish the eyes with capitulations smile
then scatter all wishes to commitments demand
what for this singular enamored heart
So what of want
so what of need
indeed, so what of all these things believed
I know nothing of these
nor do I pretend to have entreated them
I have fallen not and none for me
though ever by the quixotic verb provokingly
still but a shadows remnant continues its pursuit
with promiscuous howl
so clamorous in its gentle rancor …….
…... mocking patience to pierce the interminable hours
Categories:
inattentive, heart, lonely, longing, love,
Form:
Free verse
We can smell the fear in their voice
we can feel the anger on their breath
celebrate the inner
detox their guilt
choose calm
re access...
search for your star
and claim it...
Enjoy the journey...
The positive peaceful mindset
looks on...
...As more and more idiots...
have inattentive moments...
Categories:
inattentive, art, faith, hope,
Form:
Concrete
In the mid 80's, I took a job as a receptionist for a wholesale floral company.
Encased in a glass claustrophobic space, I answered their busy phone lines
as I gazed at the warehouse walls of greenery and the production staff scrambling to fill their daily delivery orders to florists and offices.
The days began early. We punched in at 6:00 am. I arrived in a mind fog,
downing my caffeine until my body's sluggishness wore off. It was a mindless
job and I stayed a mere six weeks at most but during that short window of time there, I had two very prophetic dreams involving co-workers.
The first and less memorable involved one of our delivery drivers. I dreamt that the police had caught him drinking while driving and he was subsequently terminated. About a week later, this dream came to fruition.
The second and must more poignant dream involved Jerry, a young flower
salesman in his late twenties. I dreamt that Jerry had fallen thru a sliding glass door. He was holding the hand of a small child, perhaps two or three years old.
It was very graphic as I saw the shards of broken glass scatter as they hit the floor. With in a few days, Jerry ended up in intensive care after a car accident with his truck. I was extremely rattled by the dream and also concerned about his welfare, although I barely knew him personally. I approached Heather, a secretary there and shared my dream with her. Heater told me that Jerry had been previously married and that he and his former wife had a child that passed at a very young age.
I might be mildly intuitive but I have never had such poignant dreams since that job. Is it plausible that I was being influenced by my green house environment there? Could it be possible that plants have always been open to communicating with us but that we humans remain mostly inattentive to their messages?
Categories:
inattentive, environment, flower, planet,
Form:
Narrative