Best Interpersonal Poems
Unshakeable groggy state
plagues mein kampf
impossible mission to awaken
this comatose zombie
drugged horror - by potent
self manufactured narcotic -
oppressive tantalizing
nightmares indistinguishable
when supposedly conscious,
eyes cannot differentiate
dusky "reality" from
twilit zoned lifelike slumbers
confused with medication
induced hallucinations ferrying
me to lands unknown
lack proper visa to allow
this migrant citizenship,
cannot escape tangled web
spun since birth
threads tensile strength
beyond realm of destruction
incredibly dynamic force
defies sophisticated
contraption to measure
even against most
powerful dynamometer,
no contest when utmost might,
sans primal scream
regarding non anesthetized excruciating
spinal tap daily visited
on this beastie boy,
no matter summoning every last ounce
of mine (billeted) willpower
foregone conclusion collusion
effectually ranked less
than lame duck effort
defeated, jackknifed, stymied...
every step of the weigh
I loathe forlorn doomed curse,
a worse fate than death,
no life worth living when bereft
of interpersonal, "normal",
relational... trappings,
yet death not available
for this walled in hostage
imprisoned within inescapable Alcatraz
every blinkered instant nsync
with pseudo fictional
realistic psychedelic dreams
mocking (this bird – dodo)
man cave existence, a mere
abysmal charade, facade, jade
did minimalistic functionality,
where suicide an irrevocable
unfair punishment to Shana Punim
precious daughter, whose caterwauling...
would wake grateful dead!
There is no guarantee
when it comes to the
heart...
though love released with
sincere eternity – our carriers,
though Homers of loyal wings
transverse a sky of hawks
There is no guarantee
when it comes to matters
of interpersonal love – only God knows
man's truest beats – for the mortal heart
is an aggressor
while also retreats
Love, indeed!~ is a campaign of sorts
armies of feelings going forth
entrenchment on both sides
love often hides
while never a victory without
two fond surrenders
Often after the fallen snow is swept, glory
Is found when the treading surface is clear.
A light dusting is a breeze to remove. For heavy slush I trade
My broom for a shovel. It is foolhardy to pretend
That things with bristles can glide
Between and expand the substrate/snow interface.
Between the air and my skin there is no interface
Even my coon skin cap only provides small glory
Reminding me that menthol shaving cream enhances the glide
Of my razor and the sting of the cold air, but also makes clear
My ambition to clear the snow away and not pretend
To scatter dandruff from the icy landscape. It seems I must trade
My alter ego of a cosmetologist for that of a cosmologist. Such a trade
Will enable me to outgrow this climate. Then my interface
Communication skills will improve so I won’t use silence to pretend
I am a solid, deep thinking woodsman and I can just enjoy the glory
Of making small talk about the weather, thus allowing me to clear
My conscience about past regrets and glide
Through interpersonal interactions moment by moment. Ah! To glide
Like snow from the blade of a shovel, I wouldn’t trade
That social grace for 10,000 driveways clear
Of snow or ice or volcanic ash. Interface--
That common boundary, the transition from disgrace to glory
As I become a cosmologist and no longer pretend
That people are stupid zoo animals and hopefully not pretend
That I am a stupid zoo animal. Seasons of the year glide
Together and glide apart. Midwinter ice in all its glory
Is dangerous and fun. Will you trade
Your cramp-ons for ice skates? The seasonal interface
From spring to summer is never clear.
The same is true for the other seasons, let’s be clear
About that. I have stressed this before and will again; to pretend
Is to deny. Everything solitary has an interface
With something else and therefore is not solitary. To glide
Is to not experience friction. At some point you may want to trade
Slip for grip. Never bask in glory
Unearned. The web interface has clear
Flaws, don’t be ignorant. Glory may never pretend
To glide toward despair, but neither of those would I be willing to trade.
Villanelle : Nations barely survive the turbulence of international events
Nations barely survive the turbulence of international events
Yet end up like interpersonal relations with other nations
Nations rise and fall yet some hardly ever merit compliments
What great Luxuor grandeur falls now to Egyptian peasants
The glory of five thousand years broken by Arab civilisations
Nations barely survive the turbulence of international évents
What great good from just Asoka’s illustrious achievements
Held Hindu sub-continent together through Muslim invasions
Nations rise and fall yet some hardly ever merit compliments
What great Aristotelian tutorship of Alexander’s managments
Kept the shores of Peloponnese free of Xerxes’s Zoroastrians
Nations barely survive the turbulence of international events
What great King Wen’s hexagrams and King Wu’s comments
Inform the sacrifices of Mao’s Long March peregrinations
Nations rise and fall yet some hardly ever merit compliments
Do nations come together only to blow asunder fundaments
Nations apart every life deserves equal rights and conditions
Nations barely survive the turbulence of international events
Nations rise and fall yet some hardly ever merit compliments
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
We all have our stressors
We all have things that make us want to break
We have felt as though we give
Much more than we take
We have all wondering what was God doing and why
We have had our heads down to ground instead up to the sky
We all have things that bother us-things that cause us pain
Things that cause us to know that only God keeps us sane
We all have trouble in more than area
We all have trouble with money, interpersonal relations
We all have felt trapped but then we get in the Word and get revelation
Then we see no change but we know there's a plan
We know that God knows better than we do how much we can stand
And still stand tall for Him
We all have things weighing our minds and causing fragments to our souls
We all have things going on within us which we feel we have no cry
We all cry inside-we all get sad at times
We all have emotional roller coasters
But we know that God is all in all
And He is our salvation, our fortress, and our deliverer
Praise Party
Glory to God for who He is!!
Praise His name in through it all!!
Praise His name in all life seasons
Winter, spring, summer, fall!
Praise ye the Lord
All ye lands
For all he does
He is our rock and our protector
He is our healer and provider
Praise the Lord when things look grim
Praise the Lord when it seems the light is dim
And even in dark times praise ye the Lord
For He is the light of the world
And the Creator of light
Praise the Lord
All the time
Not just when things are going well
When you need peace praise ye the Lord
When you need a dose of joy praise ye the Lord
And when you need to feel loved praise ye the Lord
For He loved us enough to die for us!
Though many have lost the battle, can I go forward in a worthy pursuit?
For those whose pursuit of chastity in marriage grinds to an unhappy halt,
could it not be due in part to being pulled toward illusions of grandeur?
Can I have my cake and eat it too? Can it be beautiful and forbidden too?
Am I listening to the sound of music never designed for winners?
Do I look with glee through glasses neither half full nor half empty?
Am I salivating over portraits created by mirages in the desert?
Are marriages endurable or even survivable?
The continuous grind of interpersonal conflicts;
The verbal, emotional, and physical abuse;
And the devastating effects of ‘an affair’;
The rights of life and liberty;
And the pursuit of happiness too;
true values, deeply rooted in the fiber of my being.
The purchase of certain liberties demands a hefty price.
I then consider the pleasure gained versus a life of pain.
So, I pause to ponder the horrendous cost of broken vows.
But why do I not turn my eyes, and slowly walk away?
Why do I allow such noble dreams to become nightmares?
With two ears, I pursue chastity.
In one ear I hear a voice, saying,
“With just one secluded night of infidelity,
you could be infused with adventure and pleasure”.
That voice, so crystal clear, so pleasing and promising;
It’s the sound of charm and enchantment; a costly voice.
So, I close the other ear that’s projecting a voice of caution and reason.
It says to me, “Please don’t because you would lose a lasting bond of trust”.
Is it just me, or do I see a dying breed of the trusted and the faithful?
Is it just me, or are we growing indifferent to the tried and the true?
I hear the noise of fun and games, but I hear the children crying too.
Is there anybody trying to be reliable, like the rising and setting sun?
04282015PSContest, A Sexy Surreal, Lewis Raynes
A featured poem on PS the week of 080122
Death and life—literal or figural?
Maybe both,
Now that there can be death in life or life in death,
As for poets, notably, Bharati and Yeats.
The dialogue between Arjuna and Krishna:
Is it interpersonal or intrapersonal?
Darsan or Epiphany—cling to it we would,
For seeing is believing.
The commandments, though heard,
Had to be attested by the burning bush.
Aha! Come to think of it,
Could Darsan as well be figural—
As is vipasana?
As is epiphany for Joyce?
A shorthand like light years?
***
"Great Pleasures awaits those who follow the path of the Earthstar,
who adhere to the laws of nature, to the real self,
who abide in the house of the harmonic mindwave"
- the Lunar Buddha -
The wonders of being Jewish are highlighted by an awareness of the oceanic,
self, including a plethora of suigeneris miracles. Shabbatza. Guided by the
messianic ideal, the buddhist convert assumes an attitude characterized by
a personalized passion for simple truth blended with a fascination with the
sacred nature of existence. Thus cleansed of a now external confusion, the self
feels no need to evangelize or proslyetise. Hallelujiah.
As the celebration of Candlemass nears, the more intellectually inclined initiate
and plan for the upcoming festivities. Being Jewish and therefore intrinsically
drawn to the aesthetic, scientific insight and revelation form an avenue for
personal and interpersonal transfiguration. Yogacara. Darshana. Shakuna
Tantra.
The most religious perspective tells us of a divine energy or spark inherent in
all humans; of a natural propensity for discovery of underlying truth, for an
understanding of the Creator, the master builder of the cosmic scheme.
Battacharyya.
Just as Jewish holy water runs from the springs of Hadassa, all things may
flourishing their diversity and inequality. Outside the subjective circumference
of comprehension, the naysayers gather and murmur among themselves,
absorbed into doubt and contempt for that which is filled with virtue and
virtuosity, for that which feeds and refuels the depths of the higher self.
Bhavana.
Music tells us of an affinity with of the grace and power of the Celestial,
the Macrocosmic, punctuated by a fascination with the infinite and accompanied
by a sense of abiding gratitude; thereby energized by and canonized forever in
clusters of glimmering gematria and encomnia. Song, Starlight , Shibboleth.
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 60
Interplay of positive-negative current
How Nature alternates through light and darkness
Three hundred and eighty-four times made recurrent
All symbols of family diverse in content
Father Mother Three Brothers Three Sisters in harness
Interplay of positive-negative current
Lunar year split into two neither non-violent
Both sparking each other from out of loneliness
Three hundred and eighty-four times made recurrent
In sixty-four general images latent
Interpersonal relations contorted mess
Interplay of positive-negative current
Myriad chess-board movements create more content
From dark swirling wild quark masses sparking brightness
Three hundred and eighty-four times made recurrent
Yi Jing charts infinite conflicts’ criss-cross current
Shows the right path out of shut dangerous darkness
Interplay of positive-negative current
Three hundred and eighty-four times made recurrent
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Probably few of us
have capacity
to see ourselves
as both Angel
and Demon.
Many of us
have had the experience
of demonizing
and punishing ourselves
for sins of the past
extending into our present
festering
unresolved trauma.
Hopefully many of us
have also had the experience
of forgiveness
and saving ourselves
from sins of dis-integrity's future
because someone shared with us,
in some effective way,
that nothing
is always your autonomous fault
If only because
no organic creature,
anthro or otherwise,
is born
or can survive
radically autonomous
from non-ego centers.
Personal identity
follows interpersonal
ecosystemic individuation
developmentally
causally
healthily
and effectively.
I hear healing opportunity
in this responsible
yet not solely authoritative
both/and way
of ego/eco-consciousness
As well as traumatizing risk
of denial,
too cheap self forgiveness,
too easy hiddenness
of our secret
most private
feelings of guilt
about harming another
Both intentionally
and without malice,
accidentally.
A woman's reluctant decision
to abort may feel unresolvable
between angelic health optimizing desires
and demonic win/lose fears
and angers
As might
her reluctant decision
to buy a gun
and several ominous rounds
of deadening ammunition
To protect herself
and her children
from traumatic demons
at her flimsy door
Not considering
her lack of experience
with braver win/win angels
hoping to reassure her.
Therapeutic angels
may also wait,
curiously
and impatiently,
outside that same door,
searching for health's
most wealthy bell
to dispel
shared dark shadows
In-between silent demons
we abhor
and sacred angels
we redemptively adore.
(alternately titled “How art thou dear reader?”)
(Inexplicably triggers domino effect
and doth indirect
lee send favorable
ripples vibrantly unchecked.)
vagaries of an uncertain
today or tomorrow
excites this scribe,
with a whim
analogous to sensational leitmotifs
introducing note worthy
composition melody,
and/or lyric with vim
and vivacity, particularly
to avoid behavior
being predicable, and also
(more importantly for)
to partake of the vast trim
ming of life, (not just those
reserved for holiday time),
where every day provides
an opportunity, no matter slim,
and/or fat chance to bring,
(or deliver a smile)
via friendly gesture accompanied
with a kind word
such as "hello,"
cuz no cost involved being friendly
to a self absorbed passersby
alighting, and enabling
stark contrast day, sans
gloom and doom uttering,
an innocuously neutral
greeting to bring
a dollop of good
day (not simply,
those festive occasions
(mainly and most
optimally, favorably,
and conveniently during)
Thanksgiving, and/or Christmas,
but any given evening
no matter the season if only to fling,
(albeit verbally) one or more glee
full spontaneous vocalization -
(USDA NON GMO,
gluten and monosodiumglutimate free)
surprising yourself (myself
in this case) voluntarily prithee
boost interpersonal
social awkwardness,
perhaps even offering
to lend a helping hand re
garding circumstance,
where an individual
might be contending
with something obviously
beastly, heavy, and/or
unwieldy to manage
despite the outcome, where
no response
might be forthcoming,
maybe experiencing feeling
snubbed without letting
air of indifference
(from recipient) sting!
Jealousy overcomes me like
an anaconda suffocating my prideful puffed penguin chest
and the thought of your hand running across the skin of someone else is grievous
So uncomfortable, I feel a wave of something wearisome, and it's left a skunky sour taste in my
mouth,
nauseas at the fact that you could look that way.... at someone ELSE
A wave of irritability floods over me like a tsunami of self doubt, I take my aggression out on
myself
curse obscenities to numb the guilt of my defeat in all interpersonal relationship realms
I know that I will never measure up to the standards of perfection, that I have daydreamed up
I feel like a child reaching up to the cookie counter, but I can never manage to reach that
perfection shelf
INTERPERSONAL BATTLE
Two people circle each other in a battle of wills and of strength.
It’s a battle between you and me, I made a point and you disagreed
just because I was right. Did you have to call me what you did?
What right did you have?
Well, I called you back and now we are equal. You hit me once, then twice.
I struck back but you beat me, you walked away, your face strangled by your anger.
I have a bloody nose but in my head I won, I beat you, in my head I’m as cool as ice
inside. Are you? No you’re on fire like the sun, burning
up and falling apart with your anger.
Well I’m so cool while you go crazy –
yes, I won that one in our argument over your thieving violent lifestyle.
Longevity of life
Involves a great amount of
Courage and requires
Kindness
Empathy
Tenderness
Yourself respect
Speed of a lifetime
Possesses many twists
Leading us down
Interpersonal roads
Till death doth us part.
4/9/2018
Contest Lickety Split.
My life devoid of exotic adventure
(in fact...yours truly
never set foot outside the United States,
nor took to the skies, yes...how bore)
ring, the solitary endeavors,
not an onerous unbearable chore,
although (as mentioned in a previous poem)
this fellow rarely exits apartment door,
(particularly during biting cold),
fabulous grandeur tis mine to explore
thru (healthy escape)
by way of imagination fourscore
minus ten orbits completed
round the sun, and tapping
mind bending places galore
envisioning how a blind person -
nonetheless lamentable and heartsore
(more so since birth, this pupil doth ignore
versus tragedy eye will not site here),
no limitation to where this loner can soar,
which appears contradictory to previous
disclosures, yet revisiting said notion,
sans feeling tour
charred asper meaninglessness, a spore
germinated evincing clearly reassure
ring mine psyche, those select modes
engaging body, mind, and spirit for
instance exercise, reading/
writing, and meditation
with deliberation yours truly doth pour,
the entire heart and soul of
Matthew Scott Harris to shore
up sagging sullenness, yet though disheartened
at squelching interpersonal/social, mental,
and physical parabolic contour
of healthy development,
this fellow wishes he did more
class participation, dating,
fostering friendships/relationships
such ordinary human development that did war
rant raving about prior
disappointment, the decor
ration accrued, via strengthening muscles at core
of happiness from this
sojourner for truth...bonjour!