Best Mistrusting Poems
Ruddy youths, outside my house
Can't walk to the shops at night.
Hanging on the street corner.
They even follow me to the pub.
They ought to get a job.
Instead of bothering pensioners like me.
I bet they'd mug you just for being old.
I can tell by the way they look.
I can tell by the way they dress.
It's not safe around here no more.
Ths is not the best of areas.
But we have to make the most of it.
I feel sorry for the old folk sometimes.
But at night I like to watch out for them.
Make sure they get to and from the shops.
It's a bit tiring after working all day.
The care home is very demanding.
But me and my friends enjoy the work.
Returning something for what was done for us.
I understand though why some are mistrusting.
Maybe one day the media will report positives.
And not stories that cause fear and intolerance.
In the darkness of anger and jealousy;
Stumbling over petty discrepancy.
Walking on the edge of discontent;
Ideology to the extreme extent.
Friend to none and foe to most;
Enemy to their own heart's host.
Drowning in sorrow for self inflicted shames;
No responsibility accepted, only senseless blame.
The spurred male pride or a rejection;
And the object of his desire becomes his subjection.
The failing vanity of a woman scorned;
With an mistrusting vow she is reborn.
The adult child who was abandoned too young;
Who grew up to resent everyone.
The teen who was bullied into submission;
Finally succumbs to a world of addiction.
The one who was betrayed by a friend;
Becomes the next to condescend.
Feelings hurt by someone who believed;
Promises never again to wear their heart on their sleeve.
And so it begins with a minor infraction;
Spins out of control with compaction.
Circles of life, broken in pieces;
This becomes the human species.
But all hope is not completely withstanding;
If met with compassion and sincere understanding.
Loving the lost so that healing can begin;
For as long as there is life, there is spirit within.
I pray for those who have lost their way;
May Creator be their light and mainstay.
Where hurt injured their life's very course;
May love become the healing source.
Crushed coquina’s pains, salty air consoled.
Mistrusting soul, my heart could not appease.
We met when life was brimming and potholed.
My spoken words were long lost memories.
Relentlessly the past remained in view.
Romantic strolls along the shore soon died.
Again and again past pain stole love’s venue.
Good-naturedly, he listened; my soul cried.
A blemished past, his words could always soothe.
Tomorrows were awakened by his light.
He listened and life’s bumps seemed to grow smooth.
My rambling thoughts soon changed crimson to white.
We walked on crushed coquina’s endless strolls.
The salty air breathed love into our souls.
By Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
2/14/2017
Written for the Contest: Gems for your Baggage.
Sugar and spice, at what price?
Proper and prim, life is so dim.
Generously gifting, so uplifting.
Reliable and ready, I am steady.
Giving what I gain, never to abstain.
Helping honorably, always with no fee.
Charity charade, has become frayed.
Enviously eager, so sadly meager.
Loud with lust, pretending I must.
Dark with desire, raising me higher.
Rancid and rotten, I haven’t forgotten.
Weary and weak, you’re at my feet.
Gemmed with greed, fulfilling a need.
Mistrusting and mused, you’ll be used.
Manipulating minds, you are so blind.
Precious is my pride, to you I have lied.
Putrid ugly pleas, sorry but this is ME.
What it sometimes "feels like" living with bipolar disorder....
Waiting only forces the old wounds open -
suffer, silent, pray that the guards will falter,
standing vigilant at mistrusting doorways;
ego, their master.
To paraphrase George Lakoff, and maybe Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi,
and maybe Julian Jaynes,
and possibly Gregory Bateson,
and Laura Brown,
and then there was systemic
co-passionate
Game Theory
Nurturing empathy is the only doorway through
wealthy LeftBrain Deductive
and healthy RightBrain Inductive
nondual co-arising communication
Whether the context is Win v Lose debate,
Either This EgoYangElite Or That EcoYin-NotYetElite,
or Win+Win YangCrown+YinRoot dialogue,
both competition and cooperation
rely on polypathic positive
and pathological negative
eumemic co-intelligence.
Some hybrid of Win v Lose LeftBrain verbal-cognitive
and Win+Win RightBrain nonverbal-intuitive
struggling oppositionally bipolar against
and/or streaming appositionally dipolar with
Positive anticipation
does not prefer struggling oppositionally against
consumed by WinnerMe v LoserThey survival strategies,
far short of co-empathic WinMe + WinWe
thriving co-relationships.
These two,
W(-L) and W(+W),
Y(-X) and Y(+Y),
U(-C) and A(+G),
1(-0) and 0(+1)
dialectical discernment evolutions
favor co-empathically trusting resonance,
compassionate pleasure plans,
resilient cobinary designs,
re-ligiously healthy policies,
therapeutic procedures,
democratic Original Intent
bicamerally co-intelligent
Friends unconditionally extending relationships
co-empathically trusted and trusting
as kind Kin
To regenerationally thrive
in Earth's cobinary fractals of enlightenment
Mutual empathy,
not partisan enmity
is our constitutionally protected,
eumemically healthy democracy
trusting regenerative communication
Not mistrusting degenerative dis-communication
negatively
anxiously expecting further WinnerMe v LoserThey
survivalist anthropocentric presumptions,
protecting upper-caste privilege.
Follow Gaia's Hypothetical light,
in ecological dialects
prefers following our most empowering
economic minds
and political bodies
back toward cooperatively healthy roots
and wealth-flowering crowns.
youth water war their bodies strained, as you walk through a door,
no organ or funeral tour, just boom a little more, shaking,
down falls the door,
bombs away like droplets of nothing they pierce the day,
but futures mistrusting and the present be any but a Just thing,
only in moments to be judging, my cups over running, with passion,
but they gunning, and life keeps getting hung and cashed in,
look at their faces the kids scared then they become hatred,
so to conflict in these streets, my soul, this whole globe,
peace you are apart of the fold.
Beckoning forward, then muting purpose with placid expression;
Courting favor, but scorning gratuity with nobler accession.
Reconnoitering all, yet countenancing none in stolid derision;
Regaling commoners, but transcending all menial patronization.
Subtle smile endears, but spurns all gratification;
Distant stare, onerous repression or dark depression?
All encompassing view, mistrusting miser or prating courtesan;
Stoic posture, exalted position or callous condition?
Frugal appearance, an inner recession or outward confession;
Folded arms, trite convention or cultivated abstention?
Enshrouded by cumbersome shadows or serene accommodation;
Transfixed, eternal matron; or transparent, antiquated apparition?
DATE: November 1, 2010
Contest: Why oh Why
Sponsored by Constance~ A rambling poet
by: Stephen Parker
There was a time
not so very long ago
when clopping horses
and sighing sleighs
and paddle splashing canoes,
and then, later, trains
and electric streetcars
were the resounding heart
of multicultural transportation.
And local newspapers
with indigenous,
perennially planted village editors
among ecoschooled
one-room patriarchal chiefs
competed only with local gossip
in barber shops
and beauty parlors
for communicating hearts,
listening among each democratic trusting,
sometimes mistrusting,
but rarely anti-trusting, other.
These were slower
and in some more nutritional
ways more goodfaith experiential based
and less indoors extracted,
distracted from outdoor Earth voices
singing resonance,
preaching resilient multicultural climates
of and for co-redeeming health
as Original Intent
of Paradise WinWin Wealth.
There were these times
when horses and sleighs,
mules and oxen,
cattle and pigs,
camels and llamas,
and then, later, bird flight imaginations,
bikes
and ecoschools
and organic composting gardens,
electric streetcars and trains
were the heart of multicultural
PositivEnergy communication.
What does it mean to you
to be loved
right here
where you live and breathe,
eat and occasionally shower?
What value would you give
our investments of mutual regard?
Do you know
you can love
and be loved
for and as who you are right now?
And for that sainted sinner
you inevitably will become,
and for all those you have been
since first I laid eyes on you,
and smelled you,
and listened for your still small
and large voices.
Love cannot be reduced
and confined
to just one tense,
or even two
with those we are committed to
and for;
And best spreads across
all four seasons
of sacred change.
Love is limited
only by mistrusting imagination,
WinLose dissonant assumption,
reductions of sacred organic integrity
to secular strategic mendacity,
deducted images distancing us
confining what I know and feel
for you and us up to now,
Not disregarding
or over-valuing
past and potential future
wealth for what feels safe for us today
to believe and hope,
our reviving health
tomorrow.
When winters hand out plastic bottled lemon juice
and grieving onions
too long endured,
I would like to trade some for limes
and grateful southern summer garlic
if you have those
to share.
Together
we might make lemon-lime local aid
and add community's basic bullion
for regenerate harvest
building stone multiculturing soup,
green vegetarian
and redmeat simmering stews.
When life hands us lemons
and FixIt unpeeling onions
Earth invites rebirthing us
to re-imagine all four seasons
and three tenses together
our re-creolizing cacophany
with restoring beverage
of healthy re-changing choice
for loving peace as resilient ecojustice.
Love of who and what,
when and where,
and why until just us again,
revisiting community polycultural outdoor worship
during summer health climax
And on through fall harvest,
and yet another inevitable winterish lemon
of creolizing discontent,
stuck inside
liturgical long-range extended family garden planning
plotting sun and water worshiping community love redevelopment,
global song and dance sacred restoration,
healthy-wealth of peace
As integrity of love
for WinWin organic choices
changing four-seasons from above
as below,
without
as within.
Ivana and Ivanka
and other daughters with mothers
midst matriarchal families with U.S. herstories
might be troubled
by the Trump Administration's corrupt substitution--
supremacy of White
when both sacred and sexual life is so clearly all about
purest transparency of Light.
When this transparent Light
fills political backrooms
and personal bedrooms,
all Earth remains a Sacred Tragic/Comedy Stage;
takes on a more intimately personal
and yet also a greater economic and political
CoPresence of vulnerable Light.
What do we practice,
practice,
practice
making greater
and more naturally-spiritually extended love
in our bedrooms
and our backrooms?
What have we practiced,
practiced,
practiced
making even more supremacy of fear-mongering White
heterosexual males only on top always
raping and pillaging lives
of mindless patriarchal complacency?
About Win-Lose dualistic interpretations of White is Good
and Black is NotWhite is Bad
sacred scripture
in White-dominant
segregated
mistrusting bad-faith communities,
Yet Win-Win transparency of cooperative Light
is so obviously YHWH's wondrously divine
FullColor ScreenPlay
Opera of His/HerStoric CoOperations.
Crawl in, crawl out, then look inside
travel into my own hazy mind.
The porches are locked, curtains spin
while doubt is the ruler within.
And railings smell of a betrayed time
with pain endured like roots outstretched.
Broken lies, a mistrusting wrath
As lost sleep drips time’s aftermath.
Each flower has a tale, or maybe less
right down to the boughs and damp weeds.
Portraits shade halls, and thin mirrors
collapse on ached nights, bone splinters.
My gate in front is thick to fit through,
Room of secrets I share not with dreams.
Pounding that door quells riddled sound,
my heart is cold, the key not around.
Till moonlight drowns eyes wide awake
Soaking her glow, now it handles me.
Darkness peels my defence, soft as pink
I walk outside and let stars re-wink.
Sleepless Nights Contest of Leonora Galinta
by nette onclaud
I now understand your pursuit of me in all these trials and all of this pain,
My heart looks back through the walls of rejection, and all of my insecure ways,
Always fighting ignorances plots n schemes, shocking it with the truth,
Fighting it yourself only causes more pain, and brings more on to you,
I stopped to look at myself in the mirror, what have I accomplished through this?,
Alot of loss, alot of heartache, and then i question is silence bliss?,
Is there wisdom in the lesser of words we speak when times like this occur,
Because we think we understand when in all actuality we do not, the heart then becomes detoured,
I sit in silence to recognize what truly matters more,
I don't need to say what my heart already knows, I'll trust you, Lord, with fewer words,
To allow loves experience to take you by the hand, and stop questioning all of its ways,
To stop mistrusting and step back to receive, that you will work through all of the pain,
I realize I can't take back what's been done or said, but my heart still knows the truth,
And I still love him, like you still love me, in that silence lies the proof,
When we
together
worry we
(not they)
don't have enough time
to recreate a healthier happier wealthier climate
this is Left/Right balancing time
to notice and recalibrate
transubstantiate
our DNA/RNA solidarity
transformation consciousness
to adjust our LeftBrain dominance
from anthropocentric shortage
toward 1/(0)-cobinary empty long
to fully belong
abundantly empty
timelessly polyamorous
not too much egoLeft resonant thrival
for too little ecoRight resilient survival
not too soon YangAlpha
or too late YinOmega,
for Win/Win reweaving
AnthroEarth's co-pleasuring flight
impassioning polypathic spacious might
feel our time lies too still,
too boring,
lacking good humored engagements
and vitality
and passion
too much stagnant dull
secularized divestment
not empowering sacred time
fulfilling organic space
Actively hoping
these are our opportunities to look deeper
for permaculturing cooperative opportunities
to replace competitive WinLose condemning and mistrusting
Earth's dialectically climatic enculturations
Avoiding systemic trauma's self-alienating
and original sin's ego-monoculturing
supremacist-yet-paranoid
dissonantly divesting outcomes
veiling WinWin regeneratively healthy
tranformatively wealthy
transubstantiated bilateral Anthro economic
Earth ecological
empowering and enlightened politics
enticing deeply rich socio-therapeutic opportunities
for less vicarious fear of risk to self-esteem
more freedom to actively perform self and other
bilateral entertainments,
re-engaging cobinary cooperative gift-it-forward miracles
reweaving EarthBound pains and longings,
promoting future health
abundant gains and belongings
by learning from past pathologically dissonant angers,
fears dulling into boring passive monotheistic
patriarchal paranoias,
chronically dissonant distances from
regeneratively balancing resonance
of panentheistic
Gaia Hypothesis
matriarchal pronoia
promulgating peak experiences
of long-suffering belonging bliss.
I saw you shaking afraid
broken bleeding hungry mistrusting I reached out
you let me love you.