Best Manually Poems
Surrounded by various profession
Business, medicine, soldiership and education
It's heaven-sent and planned for Him to labour
To work manually with strength and effort
True hardships; entails a great man of honor
He picked up woods and tools to craft
From small drawers and tables to houses that will last
An impression of humility and expression of equality
Though He is reverence; a Saviour from heaven
Joseph was the adoptive father
Where His skill of carpentry originated
He worked night and day; perspired with pain
He asked of no demand and with no complain
The name is Jesus born in Betlehem
The only begotten son of our Father in heaven
He could have worked in another occupation
But chose to make a living from down-below
Carpenters make
Carpenters create
They take the common and make it something to consider
Equipped with right materials they bind things altogether
The reason-being, for us to know He's a builder
Don't you know that we're under construction?
Whenever our hearts broken and the world is all we know
When we pray and call, Jesus is at work
To fix us and forgive; improving mind and soul
No work is greater if hardwork is shared
Truly, Jesus had proven that a carpenter's noble
To help us build our dreams and make the world stronger
"In Him, all things hold together"'.
Thunder and lightning ruled the black night
As the frightened young mother struggled
Beads of sweat ran down her pretty face
The old midwife calmly sponged off sweat
She hummed a lullaby to soothe her pain
Praying that the husband would be back soon
Five miles to travel in treacherous weather
Seeking the one doctor for hundreds of miles
Twelve hours of labor now seemed like days.
Fell trees and shaved off roof tops, toppled by whipping winds
Rising rivers were swollen, and flooded make shift roads
Endless rain poured like there would be no end
Meanwhile her unborn child lay bridged as it battled for release
Suddenly the door burst open and the doctor rushed in
His clothes sticking to his skin; there was no time to change
With his palm he felt her forehead asking pertinent questions
He and the old midwife tried manually to turn the exhausted child
At each attempt, mother’s painful cry was heard in the distance
She gave one guttural scream and usherd her baby into the world
The child, born limp, barely breathing as the mid wife took her away
He starred into her eyes, and knew that she was beyond his help
He brought the new born to lie in her mother’s warm arms
The silence was noticeable; the raging storm had passed
The sound of light rain, now a comfort, gently tapped upon tin roof
In a soft, weak voice she called her husband and managed a smile
Then she blessed her child with words from a mother’s heart
“May you be a light, swift as lightning when days grow dark.”
“May you have wisdom and foresight beyond your days”
“May your heart nurture and remain open to love”
“Like rain, may you bring life to all “
“Born this stormy night, your name will be “Rain”.
~*~
By : Audrey Carey
Note: Imagination at work:) Written for Constance's "Rain, The Story" Contest.
My imagination took me to some little village in Africa. This scene is played out in
many villages where health care is non-existent. However, there's always, thanks
to God, a wise, caring "midwife" to help mothers during delivery.
Everyday, countless miracles are performed by God through "midwives"!
Once a year
Without fear
At her apex
Sunlight sex.
Life giver
Soul shriveller
Crop raiser
Harsh gazer.
Light glows love
Bright above
Warming hearts
Melting parts.
Manually
Annually
On my knees
"Shine on, please!"
28th May 2016
Dear Mrs Chan,
Thank you for all the things
You’ve clearly explained and shown
And even more for all that
You left me to find out on my own.
Thank you, when I pestered for an answer,
For standing your ground and holding firm –
I know you want me to explore
Because that’s the only way I’ll really learn.
Thank you for exposing me
To the subtleties of the English language
Certain connotations, small differences in meaning,
Always looking for the precise word, the precise usage.
Thank you for encouraging me
To abandon the cowardly-conventional view
To look for something
I believe in, something new.
Thank you for all the sour, unapproving frowns
You shot, threw, thrusted and sent my way
They worked wonders
To keep my illogical misconceptions at bay.
Thank you for your aptly-set standards –
A challenging but never impossibly-high wall.
You make me love a good challenge
You make me want to give my all.
Thank you for lighting up the bulbs
In my stupid little mind
When I didn’t get it, you connected the neurons manually
And occasionally unwind.
Thank you for all that you’ve done
You make History lessons so much fun.
Thank you, Mrs Chan! You’re the BEST!
one night i dreamt i was surfing in cyberspace &
many images flickered in Adobe Flash
with every movement made, every keystroke &
slide of the mouse to & fro,
i hadn’t a clue (in real time), but i knew
that there were centillions of digital footsteps
being made with every moment
leaving their print upon the world within the screen
(still outside my own physical self)---
while my own history could partially be brought up
manually on my PC, i knew that
every phone call, every movie watched & every second
spent on the web,
had been recorded somewhere,
being held for an indeterminate amount of time &
unlike those nutjobs who say they had a
“near death experience” &
their lives flashed before their eyes,
i myself was fairly certain that
i would never come in complete contact with
this shadow of online presence.
this, however, did not bother me,
because whether my life was dragging down deep in
the gutter or
flying up in the air by the seat of its pants,
i was grounded in the cooling light of backlit LED pixels,
which would be with me until my dying day
(or until i became one with them in the future).
and there was no conversation with my PC,
because it was not a capable artificial intelligence
(as of yet) & therefore it had to abide my own human
error
(alas, PC, i pity thee) &
unlike the fictional “lord” of those religious idiots out there
walking in the sand,
it did not “speak to me” when i was down on my knees
squinting to myself with hands clasped
(um, for i wasn’t),
conversating inside my own head
hoping for answers to questions
to magically arise from my own fragmented,
severely delusional &
quite obviously
bat*****
mad
psyche.
no, there was no made up excuse
for which this human had to look to
in order to alleviate responsibility for those things
that are the most absolutely horrible
which all of us humans have done to each other,
the world around us &
to ourselves,
but rather
only quality time spent
between myself & my computer,
which had evolved from a less impressive model to its
current state,
but which would be outdated in a few years &
get scrapped for a better one,
until its own superiority
surpassed my own &
i needed to become one with it---
then, there would be no
digital footprints at all,
for they’d all be
within.
Ticket booth requests destination
manually I type your name,
a mathematical equation
couldn't convince me to abstain,
Catching despair in my reflection
streetlights flounce, dreary windowpanes
tracking raindrops with affection,
pining for your embrace, once again
Traveling express train to heaven
station platforms, fleeting by
mimicking photographs in my mind,
camera rolls, flicker the sky
Froth
by Odin Roark
Come
Be my operator
Me your camera
Medium shot
Lower Manhattan sidewalk café
He in Armani suit accented with Ferragamo tie
She with Jimmy Choo and Prada outfit
Both with Latté and croissant
Low angle
Bottom of refuse chute
Zooming up through food trash
Hurtling downward
Tortillas
Rice
Chinese vegetables
Big Mac wrappers
Wide angle
Textile floor
Sewing machines
Steam pressers
Dark skin
Yellow skin
Back to back
Fans whirling
Sweat flying
Finishing food break
Quickly down the chute
Garbage
Traveling
Into subway car
Dark skin
Yellow skin
Heads bowed
Exhaustion at end
Night
Manhattan
Armani and Prada
Dancing
Drinking
Rolled $100 bill snorts
Night
Bronx
Yellow skin
Dark skin
Fire escape mattress
Bathtub mattresses
Wall to wall
Families on straw mats
Domestic fights next door
Depriving sleep
Night
52 floors up
Skyline view
Moonlit bedroom alight
Prada with Eye mask
Armani with face scrub plaster
Seashore CD lulling sleep
Wide
Night shift
Congressional mailroom
Rows of paper-shredders
Reams of documents
Header – “Minimum Wage Proposal”
Pages upon pages
Shredding into recycle bins
Low angle
Nightstand projection clock
Ceiling lit up with 4 AM
TV comes on
BBC morning stock report
Armani raises head from pillow
Puts on glasses
Stares at TV screen
Removes glasses
Manually turns off TV
Spoons Prada
Sunrise
Bronx studio apartment
Chinese family lines up
One bathroom
15 readying their day
Wide
Textile floor
Steam building up
Hundreds of idle sewing machines
Prepared
Close shot
Espresso foam machine
Latte cups waiting
Froth filling the frame
In April of '57 the US got quite the shock
The Soviets launched Sputnik
The space satellite rock
We fell behind in the race from that very day,
That is, until we elected a President named
J F K...
Only three months into his term
1961, April, back then
Yuri Gagarin orbited Earth
Those Russians were at it again
JFK circled the wagons with the White House clan
Told 'em ~ America's got to win this race in the end...
Alan Shephard went up in the month of May
But as fast as he shot up, just that fast he came down
Compared to Gagarin, he was a monkey, a clown
Strapped tight to a board--rigid, upright
He did nothing but endure the vertical flight
~Unlike Gagarin, who manually controlled
his takeoff and landing, the ultimate goal
Then Grissom went up in the month of July
He seemed to fly nicely and pretty high
But at the end of the day
His near-disastrous landing
Clearly was NOT 'A-OK."
And by February '62
When Glenn orbited the Earth
Those Soviets led us by quite a wide berth.
Kennedy grimaced, fuming inside
He reckoned it was time for us to take pride
in our space program, to date a big bust
~ In the race 'gainst the Soviets, a win was a must
So he gathered his courage and adjusted his vision
Set out for Rice University, appeared on television
Challenging us, coaxing us, squeezing us, urging us
with this daring question--
so the Soviets wouldn't be 'purging' us:
Some people ask, 'Why?'
To them I reply
with all that I've got
~ Why not?
Then he set this agenda for NASA,
America's fledgling space agency:
Put a man on the moon before 1970!
~ JFK's proudest legacy
Postscript: On July 20, 1969, American astronaut Neil Armstrong,
took man's first step on the lunar surface
~"One small for man; one giant leap for mankind."
I.
What a darkness it is,
that as the planets rotate miracles
with cosmic power bestowed,
The Fall of Lightbringer
deadens the bleeding branches in Spring
as a requiem masked by your skin
paints onto the sun in a cloudless sky
The Stranger.
II.
What a darkness it is
when laughter lark detonates atom bombs in your heart
and you join me in my scarlet fever,
gazing thoughtlessly at a rainbow stream
of cars holding minds that also fear tomorrow
and are synced with Soundtracks for the Blind
underneath the sun in a cloudless sky
in April.
III.
What a darkness it is,
melting chocolate promises on concrete;
the promises of Locke Cole I cannot keep
streaming from a destitute human Roc
crippled beyond silencing waves in starless space,
smashing the guitar, he cannot fake it anymore
from a bleached sun in a cloudless sky
on Cape May.
IV.
What a darkness it is
to manually delete from your cyberspace
the immortal morning dew of a once eternal friendship,
for we all know that those imprinted souls linger
in our own, impossibly carved into reaches metaphysical,
especially when your favorites coalesce, reminders constantly
following like the sun in a cloudless sky
to nowhere
About Twenty Two Score Years Ago...
One “FAKE” rumor purports April Fools’ Day
accepted with hostile abandonment
according to Giggle ling search result
conducted by this gent
adopted when France switched
rather than fight abolishment
transitioning from Julian calendar
to Gregorian calendar,
(yet maintaining same gender reassignment)
called for by the Council of Trent
Lot affecting chronological abridgement
forthrightly, immediately, and
magically decreeing making
with flourish of inkhorn - prestidigitation
"poof" quite few months absent
necessitating rejiggering
displaced vanished days forcing
latter time keeping paradigm absorbent,
asper sands of time no matter such
figurative tectonic shift population
aghast at August accomplishment
and probably did March in protest,
cuz entire season,
sans couture accouterment
suddenly rendered obsolete and unfashionable
manually crafted, swiftly tailored, and
harry styled clothes no mean achievement,
and uninformed folks got hashtagged
kindled, and named plenti admonishment
visited on their person such as
bumsteads, dolts, fools, et cetera
howling guffaws when derriere adornment
slapped with "kick me steady bum,"
or stuck with tail like appurtenances
eventually this "FAKE" – advancement
ha ha April fools historical joke
became embedded tradition inn advertent
lee established meshugas, where Jews
and especially gentiles went meshugoyim
generating cottage (cheesy) gum mint industry,
and brisk business for nascent advertisement
industry, (albeit handily horse drawn
attention grabbing kiln fired tablets)
mainly for (Philly buzzfeed string) affluent,
who secured lifelong gentlemen's agreement
with artisan, and of apprenticed trumpeting sons
(after tithe thing allotment) earnings
portion squirrelled away for rainy
May Day festivities ambient
brouhaha babushka's celebrating divine comedy
21st century poet tindered mild amusement
regarding this "FAKE" flight of fancy!
Through pristine glass observed
autumnal leaves a scatter
the litter of the season
to dishevel and clutter up the garden
Sweep the crumbs away
lay polish to the smudged and smear
for glinting tiles speak ever more clear
to build the walls security
Settle leaf it’s time is spent
amid the moss is it’s fading feeding decay
in vibrant earth again some day
will know the kiss of sun out breathing sent
So by chromium faucet quench the thirst
in bottled plastic catch each drop
and flitter dust from out the corners dirt
bacterial inch upon the forests advance
And this filthy earth stains the finger nail
showers of rain bring their unwelcome rotting smell
then by chemical impostors of a flowers perfume
seek to cleans the air in a solitary room
Such isolation proves it’s security
neat clean and tidily scrubbed
hold fast the separation of technical morality
these things devoid of insect footprints
Lay soap to order the odor of sweat
yet beg the bloom for it’s delightful scent
to cut it’s throat upon a table set
the vase the only carefully treasured object
Hanker, oh hanker for the green living pasture
all the verdant aspirations of life in nature
tingle for the worth still caught in the veins
but choking on the wish of concrete remains
Through pristine glass observe the vegetation
the autumnal leaves flutter from the trees desertion
the trigger of another season
comes to rot and disarrange the perfect garden
Such fear prefers isolation and security
would rather heed the babblings of a technological morality
aspire then beyond the dumbwaiter of nature
a vase polished of any smudge or smear
Better to be in a clinical retreat
and by habit accept what is so clearly of need
take this germ free vacation
the trees are happy in their branches for the leaves desertion
Dumbwaiter
a small elevator, manually or electrically operated, consisting typically of a box with shelves, used in apartment houses, restaurants, and large private dwellings for moving dishes, food, garbage, etc., between floors. The term “A dumbwaiter” typically implies an unseen or unconsidered workforce below, this anonymous workforce deals with the contents of the dumbwaiter, kitchen staff, garbage collectors and laundry staff
E-File Your Tax—Heck Yes!
By Elton Camp
It’s out with the old and in with the new
Filing income tax online is the way to do
Making a return manually I’ve always hated
But doing it online I felt a little intimidated
Complicated situations still need to see a CPA
But for most of us, filing online is the best way
What once I considered to be an onerous chore
I don’t nearly as much mind doing anymore
Gather your records and just plow right in
The software will show you the way to win
What was complex and needlessly obscure
With e-filing, that I’m doing right I’m sure
My return done & submitted in a little while
So it was off to watch television with a smile
And one of the most surprising things to me
Most people can get the federal done free
And if you decide you want it to do the state
The small charge is one that you won’t hate
It’s been said the only constant in life is change
So to e-file your income tax it is time to arrange
Made Manually By Hand
Socialism has been known to break us all
Causing stock one climbing starting to fall
Competition declining and becoming slower
Inflation rate increase that once was slower.
Economics is related to supply and demand
Automatic Manufacturing or manual by hand
More and more surplus off of assembly line
Already bought and part of yours and mine.
Resources are mined from underground
New shiny grocery store soon will be found
After further thought and contemplation
Another new bank is beside a gas station.
This is way economics always does evolve
Many problems exist that we can still solve
After the utilization of our unlimited talents
Hopefully each year budget will be balanced.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
The Almighty has created me an angel.
The mindlessness in me has changed me a devil.
When I have a beautifully sensitive nose,
Why am I unable to smell a fragrant rose?
My sense of taste has been, preciously marvelous.
I have marvelously turned it highly tasteless.
How my sober, secure, sure sense of soulful sight,
Has turned into dull, dark, dim, dreary deadly light?
My hearing sense seems sound, and sensitively sharp,
Why am I not able to hear my own sharp harp?
Though thousands fall on me like heavy human rocks,
I don't feel their touch or even the rocking knocks.
My mind has, alas, gone very far-far from me,
It has gone beyond control like a drunken monkey.
If I could mindfully sit the morning moment
Meditating the beauty of God's covenant...
If I could eat my food savoring every taste,
Tasting and relishing and knowing every waste...
If I could watch the birds and hear the flowers bloom,
And be one with hard-working honey bees and plume...
If I calm my mind and completely concentrate,
Relaxing and light like saints within levitate...
If I owing my compassion fraternal love,
Make someone feel the compassion of God above...
If I am an innocent immaculate child,
And thus my soul always in purity abide...
If I could feel the feeling when I plant a tree,
The true feeling-full feeling of planting me...
If I could create things than merely copying,
Partake in God's continued act of creating...
If I could manually work hard and sweat well,
Keep healthy and hearty my every little cell...
It's then the mindfulness will make its home in me,
And in that home, God of love will abide with me.
12 June 2021
MINDFULNESS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
To steal; to kill; to destroy ; three deathly traits of ‘the evil one’.
Nothing to negotiate or discuss; no bomb threats and timelines.
The stages and steps to total annihilation had begun, bathed in hate.
The evil plot was so manipulative that some of its players were uninformed.
There was the element of surprise and the execution of the unthinkable.
I have a hope that ‘Evil” shall someday finish last, and meet its demise!
We desperately wanted to believe that mortals are inwardly paved with goodness
Our hopes took wings with the fall of The Iron Curtain; but that was short lived.
We insist that given the right spark, mankind will explode into showers of love flames.
However, human history is replete with inhuman conflagrations of massive madness.
The quest for freedom is a God infused desire, but forever at war with ruthless haters.
I have a hope that “Evil” shall someday finish last, and meet its demise!!
It too was a day of infamy causing endless shock and awe around the world
Only an evil person or institution would inflict so much pain on the innocent.
Evil seeds of fear and brainwashing cause mortals to unleash damnable devastation
Strange weapons of war with guided missiles; not remotely, but manually controlled.
Were our heads in the sand, denying that ‘evil’ has no concept of togetherness and unity?
I have a hope that “Evil” shall someday finish last, and meet its demise!!!
Never again was America and the rest of the world to be the same
Will mankind ever unite in brotherhood and stop inflicting so much pain?
Will tomorrow’s evils that loom ahead make yesterday's evils seem tame?
Today’s kings, rulers, and leaders must ‘make the call’ that this is not a game.
Only this and God’s mercy can prevent the repeat of using jumbo planes as missiles.
I have a hope that “Evil” shall someday finish last, and meet its demise!!!!
07052016 PS Contest, Evil Is Everywhere by Brian Davey