Best Presupposes Poems
The echo we seek,
presupposes rejection,
manifesting destiny.
Love in love with love,
for the sake of love alone,
disappears transformed as bliss.
It takes a spine spun of steel
To forgive a hateful infliction.
Many are wont to let it fester
Mining malignity of malediction.
For them `tis a wound to wear
With self-righteous indignation.
They herald the hurt as if a gift
And announce it in celebration.
The soul though is not deceived,
It chides for scarcity of charity.
Holding a grudge for what is grieved
Presupposes mindless temerity.
Counsel to forgive eludes them,
Divine admonition they shame.
Seasons past before they grasp
They self-inflicted their pain.
If cleanliness
thrives next to godliness,
could wealthy White Houses,
slick and in their capital-sucking groove,
survive when paired with homelessness?
This question presupposes
perhaps a radical view
that divine powers are more homeless
than secured behind military-industrialized,
greed capitalized,
plutocratic White Houses.
Is your god's aspirations
toward Earth's homeless sustainable revolution,
where outside is benign inside
and inside out vice-versa?
Or leaning more toward supplanting human nature's industrial needs
with politically self-empowering greeds--
gates closed against the rabble?
I suppose your god
could remain both egocentric
and become more ecocentric,
just as the White House
could remain a temporary shelter
for those empowered by co-empathic wisdom
of our humane species' ultimate homelessness
without a healthy Earth.
But, in White Houses of this sort,
the gates, if needed,
open from both sides.
The perimeter fence grows lower slower
which is not higher faster self-absorption.
The lawns North and South and East and West
extend toward all our homeless cousins,
Elders not yet burned and buried from healthy memory,
and those yet to become born from matriarchal wombs
into a more sustainable revolution
of shared homelessness.
Where Earth is home
sufficient for all,
or we all continue toward climates of homelessness
in gated Only White Houses Matter
of nationalistic greed
far surpassing Earth's need
for vulnerability and integrity
of a multiculturally homeless
co-messianic
co-redemptive
recreative bodhisattva warrior;
a reweaving god
of and for omnipotently co-operative love.
“How still is our tranquil stillness ~
If it ushers not blissfulness”
_______________
Seeking connection
In active cognition
Presupposes
Separation
Seeker seeking
Is energy leaking
Methinks silence
Needs tweaking
15-September-2022
Mortal sin requires full knowledge
Complete consent
Presupposes knowledge
The sinful character of the act
Oppose to Eternal God’s law
Implies a consent
Sufficiently deliberate
A personal choice
Feigned ignorance
Hardiness of heart
Not diminish
Increase
Character of sin
(CCC 1859)
As noses go, I’d say mine is okay
if it is viewed by someone from the front.
But if you look at it another way,
it’s not so wonderful; let me be blunt.
My nose is long, and if you’re in a place
where other women are along with me,
take note of how my nose fits on my face.
Sideways it could be the longest you’ll see.
.
Imagine please, if you will, a Roman nose,
which means a nose that is a little bent.
A nicer-sounding word for it I suppose
is “aquiline.” But what by that is meant?
For me, the word “aquiline” sounded chic.
But then I looked it up and got a shock.
I learned it means shaped like an eagle’s beak,
which is also larger than that of a hawk.
What in my DNA presupposes
that I have Italian blood, which I have not?
Most of my sisters have short, cute noses.
Why is it that a Roman nose I got?
Few great actresses have a nose like mine,
but I can think of one whose look is great.
Barbara Streisand – is her nose divine?
That’s a nose folks either love or hate!
That bump - that famous bump! Streisand never
had plastic surgery to make it small.
My role model is she. I endeavor
to love my nose. It stands out – after all!
LEAVES, LEAVES, LEAVES
Leaves of life
Maybe swaying and it maybe drying
Leaves when green are with life
But leaves on ground can be gone and done.
Leaves presupposes lives
It’s counted like calendar days
Days, months, and into a year
For every drop of leaves
Means constant change.
Leaves, leaves, leaves
Official leaves are with papers in file
But absence without leaves
Auto ends a terminal case
“You are fired”.
Leaves sometimes
Let or let live
A love one may leave
And can ever come
Leaving pains
Hard to alleviate!
Dalila Agtani
10/7/11
Entered in a Contest:
Sponsor: Carol Brown
Contest Name: LEAVES
The 20-pound butterball turkey rests
On a table laden with condiments;
We bow our heads, reach out our hands and bless
And say grace which presupposes our content.
But as we eat, the elephant harrumphs
To lead our banter and wordplay astray,
We assert on Gaza or butterball Trump
Or some other donnybrook of the day.
Alas, the turkey is now quite slighted
And acrimony stuffs the upper hand;
Our argued points are skewed with gestured knife,
Though not a one convinced to alter stand.
Afterward, leftovers are jammed into
Vacuum bags should we choose to someday use.
" ...betrayal begins with trust."
~ Quote_ Phish
Our trust presupposes expectation,
based on a script, being but delusion,
which is the root cause of our frustration;
betrayal plunging mind in confusion.
Love that’s true seeks no reciprocation
and so the fault line is egoic longing,
which over time becomes our fixation;
seeking somehow a sense of belonging.
If we accept all beings as they are,
recognising we’re but actors on stage,
we’ll always shine like a luminous star,
radiating bliss like a tranquil sage.
Let not betrayal, diminish souls light ~
May we effuse love by day and by night
22-May-2023
__________
Writing Challenge - B Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
The lioness stares at the world with rigid eyes
Vacuous emotions replaced by terror in me rise
This is a picture of probable consequence
That lures and destroy us outside the rule of sense
When I was younger deep dangers lured me
Always to the brink where chaos swells and thrills
Something in me desires uncorrupted a history
Something in you avoid choice while shackling wills
Is this hedonic barbaric or quest for self unknown
And why does each order presupposes a throne
We tremble in the clutch of what we do not know, and I
Am your enigma to tease, tempt, and then defy
You stranger craving after flesh random desire
You the forest burning bright subverting Horeb's fire
No bush transformed, a wounded lioness unhealed
How I am drawn in ... knowing how I spike your zeal
The forest is ablaze within the heart, we carry it
Instead, and are not the contents of its clime
Here the spirit absent from the mind blinds a bit
Like smoke, or grief, or rabid longing for our time.
The fact that we ensoul this body-mind
presupposes bondage to feeble form,
thus senses five, gender and habits bind,
self-blocking the flow of bliss currents warm.
Fear of freedom keeps us bound in a cage
of conditioning imposed by belief,
veiling the clear truth that this world's a stage,
where cessation alone grants us relief.
With thought flow slow, fears and desires recede,
revealing we're soul, here for a sojourn
and with this recognition, we gain speed
melding with God's light, in this body urn.
No sooner we step out of our soul’s way,
divine love and light becomes our mainstay.
27-November-2022
At last my secret's out – now I can sit and write a spell.
An author fashions means of flight for dormant clientele.
Away to lofty heights of thought...an album, shall I write,
an album crowded full of poems, senses to incite?
An aspiration presupposes gutsy derring-do
and any dreamer worth his charm will ponder déjà vu.
Ambition is the trying out of things that aren't the norm.
Adventure called my name but duty sounded its alarm.
Awaiting dreams for work at hand was not an easy climb;
appointed answer to my quest, retirement came with time.
Alas! small hope I do fulfill, yet even while I pen;
as adolescent dreams are met, I ask, what might have been?
Life is happiness embodied;
Happiness evolves from celebration;
Celebration presupposes glory;
Glory is an epitome of hard work;
Hard work is foundation of human life;
Encompassing these, Life becomes a
FESTIVAL
Yeah…
Life is a Festival—
Rejoice and celebrate
Toil and earn
Achieve and accomplish—
Certainly NOT an Occasion to be elapsed.
Every day is ceremonious;
Go with a smile and
Success is certain.
Yours was the crown of the Synagogue
after you converted to Catholicism
for living Christianity
is the fulfillment of the promise.
Christianity presupposes the Synagogue
and a vision of Jesus you had
opened your mind and your heart.
Yours was the wisdom and smartness
as you became the doctorate professor of philosophy -
Chief rabbi, for you Synagogue,
which was the promise
and Christianity cannot exist without the other.
if the question
presupposes the answer
prompted by eons of conditioning
why then are we dismayed
if delusion deepens