Best Probing Poems
If the unbearable lightness of being has pushed you to the brink of catastrophic meltdown,
walk to the edge of our flat two-dimensional existence
and take a leap of faith...
You may drift through space for quite some time
eyeing the stars, the planets, the galaxies
that make up the great and boring universe beyond.
Eventually you'll come across darker, scarier territory,
unseen with the naked eye
yet comprising 95% of all matter,
and all that matters,
otherwise known as the unconscious.
Some day you'll feel safer in the void,
more secure,
at peace.
With not one mirror in sight to reflect your self concept,
everything and nothing make perfect sense here,
for they are one and the same.
You are the only observer
of man's true final frontier
and his one and only mystery.
In the middle of the universe, I stand
Wondering at where does it all start, where does it all end
Science keeps coming up with its facts
Religion has its own proof, which it shows with tact
There, in the middle of it all, I stand and look at it all
It is believed that its matter does make up my soul
It is made of beauty, of stars taking birth, of planets dying
It is beauty, beauty as does seem to be the sun, setting or rising!
It is mystery as do seem the words of a Chinese poem
To a child coming from the land singing the British anthem
It is mystery as would seem the life of a seer of spirituality
To the one who does thrive in many a one mundane activity
It is magic
It is mystic
It is our essence
Yet, we understand not its cadence
In the middle of the universe, I yearn for the maker of it all
Surely, He does be, surely, He would hear my call
I am sure He is made of goodness
I am sure He fills up our consciousness
Unimaginable universe,
Seeing you now, I would never have guessed your content be so diverse
Life does thrive in you in all sorts of forms
Yet, I see not Him who can claim to be the ruler of all these kingdoms
So I choose not to keep standing in the middle of the universe
I choose to walk and probe, to love it, so that with Him, indirectly I do converse
Yes, I would love this thing of mystery
While going about with my quest, hoping someday, He shall be revealed in all clarity!
Inside my heart a dark spirit dwells.
I have been through tribulation and hell.
It is over and the judgment is in.
I can still taste the cutting tang of gin.
My meandering spirit has been shut down.
(I fear my jury thinks me a sad clown.)
I reckoned the road was a good time friend,
Aimlessly I sought what I thought I'd find.
I found optimistic small town people,
Cynical and despondent city dwellers.
With each fork in the road would I find me?
One of the darkest places in the world,
Is inside your mind as you try to fit in.
Here, right in this place is where I belong,
Good-time Charlie's and bad-time Charlene's,
Soon had me on the road strangling on dust.
My train of thought brought me to where I am,
Like an old rusty freight train chugged to a stop.
The towns I had visited by on my way,
I never felt welcome for I had been wrong.
All the people I met, men and women,
Tried to love what I was but I knew not love.
The miles I walked, taking this and that turn,
Anxiously awaiting until I found . . . myself.
Suddenly I was struck with the thought so rare,
That what I was chasing was already there.
I wait for the verdict to be read now.
Maybe I can smoke, if they will allow.
The old greybeard looks my way and declares,
You must go back to earth, your life repair.
My prayers are answered I know what to do,
Correct my sins for my new life's debut.
probing my cheek
a mild breeze
released
from icy clutches
for a spell
ducking inside
i rushed to return
vanished
the breeze
no guarantees
Probation sounds too probing,
kinda dirty
and/or messy,
probably says we didn't work out,
Then reset
try again
with closer
and more sobering supervision.
We all live within win/win shadows
of non-reprobation
non-violence
non-dominant ambiguous supremacies
Probation
precedes Integration
needing wants to work-out
together,
like hypotheses
and conclusions
Reset win/lose competitions
toward win/win cooperative
re-beginnings
Try again
evaluating wider
warmer
happier
more inclusive
polycultural health
and safer resilience
within heated community
and eco-justice brilliance
social
and political
green feminist implications
Of recognizing
appreciating
celebrating
what all creatures want,
regardless of age
nation
tribe
gender
culture
Need to feel spiritually mentally healthy
and physically safe,
To have an eco-political mastery of voice
contributing to cooperative social agency
Connecting
and reconnecting/re-ligioning
re-communing
with other win/win-intentions
non-violently communicating tensions
on our better days,
and probably micro-aggressively miscommunicating
on our lesser co-invest
in good-humored retention
more retributive
snarky days
When our edibles
render us
nearly inaudible
while on loser probation,
not feeling Earth's promise
of sacred integrity for all
Where right-brain appositions
reconsider left-brain defiant oppositions
in dialectical-fractal mindfulness probations
both hypothetical
and regenerative
hope-filled bicameral
bilateral
bipartisan
binomial integrations.
Looked for grins.
A worn-out spirit.
Probing soul.
Each lone hour.
Catching giggles puffed my doubts
Who fused in darkness
Written: January 21, 2022
President Probing A Prostitute
About America should always give a hoot;
President Trump is with another Prostitute;
Having fun,
Until done;
To pay, from us, he likes gathering in loot.
Jim Horn
The sun touched upon him in mid-reflection
As he searched for the shade of kind shelter
Up and down he looked from tip to toe
Cast his wandering eyes near and afar
Closed his eyes but he caught a mirage
Illusion or blindfolded reality uncovered
He came upon an uncomfortable truth
Neither outlines no contours only illusions
Darkened the specter of vivid impressions
When an invisible cloud pasted his mind
He realized that only he was his own shadow
30th April 2020