Best Preoccupations Poems
Homes so recently abandoned
for Sunday swims and picnics
have become indoor respites
from the restless chill of change.
Secure, still days have vanished,
with hazy meadows humming.
Fireflies have met their end,
replaced with jack-o'-lanterns.
Now forewarning breezes,
stealthy, crisp, and vibrant,
pierce preoccupations,
uncovering reckless impulses.
Now uncanny images,
voices of chance and charm,
bide their ghostly time
to tease mortals hitherto content.
Darts and dashes of circumstance,
figures of flitting moments,
are creatures mysteriously born,
skipping towards certain death.
So what, if the end is approaching;
the witches' brew is bubbling--
the whispers of all moans and laughs,
the collage of dreams and desires.
Now is the ecstasy of flinging
one's fate to the unrefined choir--
the discordant sounds and initiatives
of many spirits and springs.
Grinning gourds and goblins
bless the annual surprise--
this primal burst of forces
that refuse once more to be quenched.
Categories:
preoccupations, autumn, halloween, magic,
Form:
Blank verse
I could…pretend like none of this is happening to me.
Or even try and convience myself this is all a dream,
and at any moment I am going to wake up and realize this.
I could…imagine I was somewhere else,
somewhere far away,
where what I said and did had no consquences.
I could… wish for more time,
precious time,
which seems to be running out faster with each passing moment.
I could… live my life,
with nothing but moments:
memories frozen in time within my head.
But for today,
I want to forget about what I could do,
start thinking about what I should do.
For today,
I want time to stand still,
live in this moment without the preoccupations,
of what could happen in the future.
For today,
I just want to be me.
Categories:
preoccupations, imagination, inspirational, introspection, life,
Form:
Carpe Diem
Message in a bottle
Here is my greetings and message to you all, my dear ones
Who would be populating this earth again
After my generation gets wiped out on the 21st of December 2012*
But, then, what a let down, I have to fall back upon
This antiquated paper and pen and a blasted bottle to store it in
Because there is no way I could text or e mail to you,
Like I am used to, this day, that let us soar so high with computers,
Nuclear bombs and spacecrafts that whizz past celestial bodies
As if it is child’s play;
but all the same dragged us down to moral depths
Where one of us could massacre a whole class of kindergarten kids
Or plot mindless terror attacks in the name of imagined wrongs
And wrong premises or rape and then kill a five year old
Or an unsuspecting girl who walked into a wrong bus
Thank God I am still left with a little sense to share with you my friends
Whatever freedom you may happen to enjoy,
Whatever material progress you may make
Never use it or let it be used to trample on moral and ethical values
Guard and enforce those values in society with eternal vigil
For there will be none to protect and promote them,
Mark my words, except YOURSELVES, because such values
Have no commercial value.
For, politicians, preachers, prophets
And their followers, by the very nature of their preoccupations,
Would continue to divide and disrupt, despite their bluff and bluster
About universal love, brotherhood and peace, the very values
That would be suffering atrophy under their very noses.
* The Mayan calender ends on this date (21st Dec 12)giving rise to speculations by doomsday prophets that the world too is going to end on this date.
20th Dec 12
For Catie's Message in a bottle contest
Categories:
preoccupations, imagination, introspection, kindergarten, may,
Form:
Free verse
Why is there such disgustamacation..?
i seem to engender this inclination,
and..in complete disengenuation..!
all unaware in my preoccupations,
why "i am" so bemused.."
as my outflow's perused,
all in pursuit of your
satisfactamaction..!
Dear poetry soupers:) i did not use spellcheck on this piece "i know"
horror of horrors..!but thats just me.. how remiss.!
i will not be posting for a long while, but will be hosting a contest..that all are
welcome to enter,
that means (you Lay) as well. All the best to all..Joe
amended 18 04 2012
Categories:
preoccupations, funny
Form:
Limerick
Offended
is ignorance
a lack of understanding
silence
is not for everyone
humans speak
and do things
different than you
or your faction
true
or untrue
or stretch truth
what's the worry?
stressing
over someone else's beliefs
takes you away
from your own routine
offended
is a waste of energy
needed for nothing
causing dangerous sparks
within one's mind
one's heart
one's soul
becomes contaminated
with preoccupations
vengeance breeds furious
often unexpected actions
of ill-will occur
or changes for the worse
creep
in the shadows of good
growing
taking over
"spiritual kudzoo"
none could tame
extinguish your dealings
with petty rage
of another imperfect being's mouth
cancer vanishes easier
with early detection
MOVE ON!
or at least learn
from your polar opposite
Categories:
preoccupations, angst, confusion, depression, faith,
Form:
Free verse
The light once so bright
In the humble dandelion,
The power that amazed us
In the migrating birds,
The patterns so intriguing
In frost on the window
Are not lost forever, merely
Held in reserve,
Awaiting sweet release
From the numbing effect
Of fixed preoccupations,
From the stealthy separation
Of projected self-propulsion.
Categories:
preoccupations, appreciation, beauty, innocence, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
Could you love
an old white redneck
with HIV,
inhaling too much medicine?
Could you love him
if he were able to listen
without judging,
but commiserating,
curious about nuances,
finding dark humor
transcending rumors
of ego’s timorous tumors
and climatic anthro-terrifying tremblers?
Could you love a sad house-bound poet,
with too many kids of vulnerable colors,
multiculturally married but neurodiversely separated,
haunted by recurring adoption-denied nightmares?
Abandonment
allows suffocation,
nutritional neglect,
dislocation
drowning embryonic surf,
tidal pools of loneliness
propelling salty
dark
dissonant compassions,
emotive compost
organically fueling preoccupations
toward resurfacing light.
Could you love him
if he could know what you feel,
and guess why
and wonder how,
and hope when,
and care where
we might want to hear
and feel and dance and breathe
this sacred co-opera again?
Could you love erotic simplicity
if delivered with truer exotic festivity?
Could you love integrity,
us becoming right synergy
here
and now?
Could we sacred love
exchanging secularized anger management
for musing compassion's
proactive
interactive
interdependent
inter-reconnecting
inter-re-ligious EarthTribe opportunities?
Could you love
these neurodiverse
neuro-sexsensory ones
you are already miraculously singing
and dancing within
without?
Categories:
preoccupations, beauty, health, humor, love,
Form:
Political Verse
Each day, the inevitable draws closer
Our time is measured by the number of days and nights
How we’ve chose to live in each of those moments
Has become the summation; the totality of our lives
Many are depressed by the memory of past experiences
Or, anxious with thoughts of what’s to come
Their existence, is battling trivial emotions
Tragically, they succumb
In the end we create our own reality
Without the use of reason, it appears there’s hope
There's a desire for perpetual satisfaction
Which becomes an existential vacuous hole
Our perspective of living well has been distorted
Many have chosen wealth over a tranquil mind
We’re immersed in habitual compulsions
We’ve become slaves to the things in our life
We’re consumed with thoughts of a better tomorrow
We’ve lost the lessons provided by each day
The mirror – white hair and wrinkles
Troubled by the fact; It’s getting late
Preoccupations continue
Filled with hopes and fantastic dreams
All of life’s good intentions
Unfortunately ends so miserably
We’ve lived as if life is forever
Squander time as if acquired from an overflowing supply
We pathetically minimize our existence
The greatest gift is to live life
Categories:
preoccupations, abuse, addiction, allegory, anger,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw you with some other friends
At Methodist park merrily masquerading
As someone incognito on a clear day
Full of Sun.
How could you not notice me?
You see I'm the one
Filled with razzmatazz,
Dazzling pizzazz and potency.
Looking as chic and regal
As royalty. Together we make
The eyes of onlookers bleed.
Yes. You've got it too.
For we are malignant.
But how could you not
Notice me. I'm hardly of
Your imagination on
Vacation. Various
Visible preoccupations
Probably is possible.
I guess it would be best to
Forget you.
You beautiful poisonous
PEACH. I will not
Continue to LOLLIGAG
WITH LOYALTY. I must
Remain legitimate .
Now, I feel as though I am
Nothing not even a withered
Weed.
While everyone else is filled
With glee.
At this time I wither and
Grieve for our love which
Never was.
Good bye my love blessed
My BELOVED.
Categories:
preoccupations, allusion, angst, beautiful, break
Form:
Alliteration
Weary at the end of a long, punishing day.
It's heaven when I close my eyes to sleep;
tightly-held preoccupations and woes drift away
as I slowly sink into a calm, bottomless deep.
Such a liberating escape, finally counting sheep.
Off to dreamland, I go, and Morpheus leads the way.
I wish you'd come with me, and off we'll creep
to a peaceful heath in my dream where butterflies play
Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay Poetry Contest (Winner: 1st Place)
Sponsored by charles messina
Date written: 01/26/2020
Categories:
preoccupations, day, dream, imagery, night,
Form:
Lay
In an innate world, the brain is beautiful.
Being two percent of the body mass, the brain requires about twenty
percent of its oxygen and calories.
The most beautiful image ever seen is the brain normal functions.
So when you are at your wits end, remember that sound understanding is a
beautiful place to be.
Your brain is majesty.
I know this because of the abnormality that can manifest when you do not use
common sense.
This takes away from intellectual power.
You are therefore, diffused.
The mind is encompassed.
Supreme exquisiteness that boons the utmost splendor is the brain.
Use it wisely.
The superficial element of the brain is like imagery seen.
Information is process to enhance memory.
Through telepathic means, your senses thrive.
Manifestations of colorful or colorless montage are visualize.
Let your mind take control.
Live your life as bursts of insight to attain positivity while acquiring the
guidance needed.
All know the story of the dead brain.
The woman revived it with a base of knowledge.
She stemmed it via the occipital lobe.
Then she found it a body to raise above.
The brain begins to function normally.
The human was magnificent to see.
What are the metaphors?
A brain is nothing but a scheme.
The schematic brain is allegory.
The brain encompasses the mind.
The mind forms symbolism.
This is where your reality becomes your thinking.
Your clown frown is on.
Your mouth hangs open.
You are a click of hyperactivity.
You win arguments but you lose disagreements.
Your vicissitudes are with your anticyclones and nadirs.
You know that the world is in a depressive state.
Foster good will to cultivate empowerment.
Therefore, bringing forth the most beautiful image of all normal
preoccupations of the brain.
_______________________|
PENNED ON JULY 02, 2014!
Categories:
preoccupations, appreciation, beautiful, beauty, creation,
Form:
Free verse
Dead leaves
Brown lifeless carpet;
Windy conclusions
~~~~~~~~~
Sun beams streak
Dawn happens fast;
Birth of new day
~~~~~~~~~
Little boy here
Little girl there;
Playtime sand pitch
~~~~~~~~~
Candlelit cupcake
Feisty fiery wish;
Soul in free spirit
~~~~~~~~~
Waiting here
High rise lift crowd;
Together alone
~~~~~~~~~
Evening interlude
Stray insect cacophony;
Night shift postures
~~~~~~~~~
TV sitcom
Drama on demand;
Pricey menu
~~~~~~~~~
Stray aromas
Perfume floating sweet;
Familiar presence
~~~~~~~~~
Sleepy hours
Dreamy preoccupations;
Drowsy forgetfulness
~~~~~~~~~
My monkey mind
Fickle flip flops;
Splashing unclear
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
12 May 2016
Singapore
Categories:
preoccupations, change,
Form:
Haiku
Today we honor those who paid our price of violence
to protect us from each Other's mono-colonizing excesses,
we remember deep respect for those who have done their best
when this was too often not sufficient
to return to a resonantly healthy life together
in their own families,
prior spacious loves
now fenced
and ruined.
We recognize and would redeem
returns to less peace
found in Business As Usual
uncivil re-immersion.
We wonder
with our unowned feelings
and stranger-anxiety thoughts,
reverberating through second generations
of militarized domestic stress,
about seductively monopolistic economic
and reductively monotheistic
nationalistic political values
without CommonSense
win/win humane enterprise.
How and when holy patrimonial wars
and systemic RightWing terror
might politically re-erupt
and economically corrupt
this dark premonitional MemorialNight silence
of EarthMothers' green organic health Day
celebrating springtime wealthy forests,
panentheistic eco/neuro-systems
inter-re-ligioning
HolySpirit EarthNatural
indigenously wise preparations
for a robustly peaceful
and prosperous Fall harvest
With no sacred EarthMother need
to invoke GodTalk blessings
to honor those who pay OneFather's price of violence
to protect us from each Other's monopolistic
nationalistic
anthro-supremacist
straight white privileged preoccupations
fear and anger triggering
multi-generational
systemic militarized trauma
win/lose neurosystemic drama
of monotheistic GodTalk ideations.
Categories:
preoccupations, anger, courage, earth, memorial
Form:
Political Verse
I can’t believe it’s weekend already,
the busy week has hardly been noticed
as if it were like yesterday when,
I started tidying up my room upstairs.
Other commitments rolled in on weekdays;
pastoral ministry, running some errands,
homebound visits, writing and reading,
spiced up the main preoccupations
that made sense to the so-called system.
Long into the night, thinking what to write,
I struggled to make a reflection;
with a great deal of time and inspiration,
I got to know my sense of focusing.
Like playing any musical instrument,
there’s discipline, time, and inspiration
that enables one to play with assurance –
with depth and beautiful tone to keep.
For some it can be a crazy week
with all those things to attend to
enough to saturate my strength, energy;
I continue to live with hardly anxiety.
On certain aspects of discipline,
there’s always a challenge that goes with it;
its affinity to sense of focusing, repetition;
provides a firm, solid foundation.
I remember those performers
in the field of music, arts or sports;
discipline is like a fodder, a vital part -
to attain success in their respective craft.
Therefore, each day has to be fulfilled
with certain discipline and focusing
though problems come along the way;
It’s a matter of conviction and determination.
Categories:
preoccupations, life,
Form:
Narrative
I squandered my future,
my past present expended.
Unsteady steps protracted,
seconds and hours not tended.
My thoughts were not pondered,
delusional perspectives un-debated.
So many of my mistakes,
could have been anticipated.
Was it my unfounded fear,
that informed my preoccupations?
I could have chosen different,
my foundational miscalculations.
Polite and respectful,
an untrue participation.
The truth didn’t factor,
into my odd equation.
So I embraced my fear,
which fuelled my frustration.
Mistake on mistake,
led me to this destination.
One step forward,
two steps quickly back.
Do you see me sunshine?
My brain going clackity, clack.
I’m the one afraid of shadows,
don’t worry, I won’t attack.
Just a quiet back door seeker
searching for the strength that I lack.
Tell me please,
what can I do?
I want to be like me,
but just a bit more like you.
So I’m drowning my thoughts,
I guess that’s nothing new,
you keep bouncing in my head,
is what you’re offering true?
Now my many mad moments
are down to a few,
with the last sip of sorrow,
where am I headed too?
Maybe there I’ll find my answers,
will Jesus greet me anew?
Still my greatest final fear,
is he’ll just wait for you!
This piece is from the perspective of a person caught up in addiction.
Categories:
preoccupations, addiction, angst,
Form:
Verse