Best Recalibrate Poems
Relative time from departure body --
Thus, from Earth we hail.
Sailing to Wolf at light-speed tardy,
Cryonic-dreams of Dale.
Awakened, rudely, at a mere eleven:
A technical glitch, a fail.
Three years to seven, it's never exact,
The crew all burnt and stale.
A compulsory note confirms the fact,
Twenty-five years until mail.
Nothing can dim the sadness I feel,
Save for my faraway Dale.
Androgynous android without a face
Plays chess and laughs so frail.
Reprogrammed to simulate the grace
Of my beloved, bountiful Dale.
Repairs all done -- frozen sleep begun....
A starship commences to wail.
Entering Wolf's red-dwarf, m-class sun.
Thawed, I recalibrate the ACF sail
For low-level orbit around planet 1061.
The lander is prepped to auto-bail.
Message received at base Alpha Centauri --
Four years to Earth and Dale.
A fuchsia sky and gravity-rich mass.
I scan for colonists, to no avail.
Starlight dining with my android lass,
Upgrade face of porcelain-pale.
I signal, farm, rave, survive and wait ... for
A reply from Earth and Dale.
I deflate and weep at the message reaped:
She was killed by a rusty nail!
On mission eve she planned and weaved,
Then cloned her brain to scale.
Bestowed to a droid, my darling destroyed --
'Twas a masterful, Holy Grail code employed.
We walk together the newly trail --
Zeke T. and android, Dale....
H ave a shot at telling the truth, for a change,
A nd see if it improves your viewership range.
N ot that it won’t take time for folks to recalibrate;
N ot many will find immediate cause to celebrate.
I t’s difficult to recover from a history of lies,
T here’s a world of difference for him who tries.
Y ou might turn the page and bring FOX a prize.
The devil is your helpmeet
when you squeeze your P's and Q's,
when you dabble in black magic
and recalibrate the fuse.
Transgression will befall you
as you ply your wicked trade,
yours or someone else's
'til the debt to sin is paid.
Criminals, malingerers,
and those with crooked hearts
will wriggle through the sacraments,
upset the applecarts.
They'll paint you in the darkest light
and daub your face with blood,
play your insecurities
and sway you from the Good.
Don't compromise your trembling heart
to acclimate his will,
remember he is waiting
for your innocence to spill.
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.
ADDITION SHORT
I was short on addition
And I couldn’t subtract the different
My heart and mind was divided
2-+2 was 4 no more
And I couldn’t subtract the different
Multiply the fractions rounded up to 8
2+2 was 4 no more
Had to take the eraser, wipe off all numbers and recalibrate
Multiply the fractions rounded up to 8
2+2 was 4 no more
My heart and mind was divided
Had to take the eraser, wipe off all numbers and recalibrate
I was short on addition
4/5/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©Pantoum
5/20/22
Does it ever satiate?
Let me elaborate
For the evening pouring up an 8
Starting to feel okay, now I'm straight
Until reality sets in and I'm awake
Ego and spirit starting to deflate
I'm not always in that great of a place
Meaning in life and my mind state
Changes to be made for my own sake
Since life's not always sweet like a slice of cake
It's a mystery or taking shape
People always taking off of other's plates
What a disgrace
Dangerous people put out bait
All over the place
Makes me irate
For being fake and a snake
Toss your body into a lake
Had it coming, but I'll still show up to the wake
Pay my condolences then exit through a gate
Y'all some lightweights
They say we relate to primates
Yet struggle to find a trace
Birds continuing to migrate
People concerned or no regard over carbohydrates
It was all there to take
Got to try if you want to have any stake
Or say in the matter, instead of always being late
Before you know it the chance will evaporate
Sometimes got to recalibrate
Not all can acclimate
Wounds healing well or beginning to granulate
Towards what they seek is where they'll gravitate
Often they over saturate
The cycle endlessly circulates
And permeates
Close to a stalemate
Started to contemplate
And concentrate
In order to dominate
As the masses congregate
Many just complicate
With a solemn face
A taste of your own medicine, how does it taste?
They can't relate or appreciate
Then have the nerve to state
Words that are offensive with a tone of hate
Sometimes I just need to escape
I'm never sober, give me a break
Had a hand in saving lives yet no cape
I need to elevate
Not celebrate
A peaceful end or a scene involved with yellow tape
Recalibrate, rededicate, remotivate
Life calls on us to demonstrate
that we will not quit, give up, or surrender
not become down-and-out dead-enders
So suck it up, stand erect, take the bull by the horn
at the crack of dawn, milk the cow, shuck that corn
I took the off ramp too soon
I should have driven on to the next exit
but I left too soon.
Now in a strange landscape
I slow down looking for road signs
waymarks, names, and places known to me.
Stopped curb-side, fiddled with the GPS;
her voice was cool, distracted:
“Please recalibrate, enter your position,
the place you need to be does not compute.”
Sighing I look about me.
The buildings are deserted, windows boarded up.
streets empty.
I don’t belong to any of this,
I am affluent and live on a tree lined avenue
but that me, that life,
is one exit more beyond on the highway
and this car has no reverse drive. What!
It was nothing but a dream,
just a dream,
or was that other lost life,
that other misplaced place
an exit forever and always
too far for me?
The devil is your helpmeet
when you twist your P's and Q's,
when you dabble in black magic
or recalibrate your Muse.
Transgressions will befall you
as you ply your wicked trade,
yours or someone else's
'til the debt to sin is paid.
Criminals, malingerers,
and those with crooked hearts
will wriggle through the sacraments,
upset your applecarts.
They'll paint you in the darkest light
and daub your face with blood,
play your insecurities
and sway you from the Good.
Don't compromise your trembling heart
to acclimate his will,
remember he is waiting
for your innocence to spill.
Better With Age
I’m actually getting better with age
To illustrate this, here is my gauge
The spots on my skin – think of a young leopard
The cane in my hand – think of a young Sheppard
And now that I squint – think of a young Clint (Eastwood)
The grey in my hair – now I look debonair
Though my jowls droop a little I feel fit as a fiddle
And though I wear glasses, the gals still make passes
My six-pack’s matured to a tight mini-keg
And I could run miles (except for one leg)
There’s a skip in my steps like I’m dancing on air
(It’s just orthopedics – I now wear a pair)
And the creaks and the groans that you hear when I move
Is the gypsy in me getting down with the groove
When I look in the mirror I still see someone young
And my memory sticks on the tip of my tongue
Yes, I’m actually getting better with age
If I recalibrate what I use for a gauge
From where I stand
leaning
which way up
patches of blue
or jewelled black vertigo
bring me back to earth
and heaven is still here
Untrustworthy planks of mentality wobble
loose chemical nails
and windows rattle
in the human eddies
Time to back up
clean the head
reboot
save the screen
recalibrate
sleep
2.04
It happened..To happen, its perhaps how best to explain.? Dietrich wrote about some ' tators.' In the footles vein, i hope its
Plain.? I then made a comment.' On another slang name known.' Causing her to recalibrate..Too taters..
Ler it be shown.' So
Now it seems there is a standerd..On how to mis-pronounce.? Will we influence the Mirriam-Webster.? Might they weigh the terms, just like the pound or ounce ? So it
Seems we've achieved the improbable.' Where, a slang word is reccognized.' Will we end up in Paris to receive a sorbonne
Prize.? The possibility's seem endless.'
When you try this out for size.' Even
though post-eriors must
take up the sacks
if
We stay low, and this stock sells.' Though
Thats not
My point, its just interesting, to be part of lifes flow )
Today might be a stressful day
tomorrow could be swell
next week might be a challenge
next month you’ll conquer hell
Next year could be different
to where you are today
the point of this being
don’t throw your life away
Why do you question things
why worry every day
everyone has a story
don’t let it cause delay
emerge from your cocoon
let your wings dry
see life in a new light
spread your wings and fly
When one cycle ends
another one begins
when one day you lose
another there could be wins
if todays a struggle
tomorrow could be great
So just take a breath
time to recalibrate
Take a walk in nature
feel the healing vibes
frequencies will gravitate
to your soulful tribes
Be grateful for the life
the magic that is there
soak up all the wisdom
and know the spirit’s care
It might have all been illusion
Your dreams now lay shattered
Your whole life seems in shambles
Don’t despair
Hold your head high
Reset your sights on the big picture
Reevaluate your ambitions
Pick up and juggle the pieces
Rebuild the puzzle
Take time to refocus
Time to recalibrate
And not lose balance
AP: 1st place 2021, Honorable Mention 2026
I hear the sound of a truth train now coming.'
Then I notice many people running.'
Why are they going back uphill.?
In the wrong direction.?
Into the darrkness lurking and still.'
Also back into treacherous times.?
Must be they are bad..?At reading the signs.?
I thought that they were all on board.' Within the
Mind. ? Have i been over optomistic, or to
This place, just blind.? I hear their words I'm aware of faces blurred.'I
Feel their hunting breath, uncertain of much.' And scared to death, do they know of life.? For that fact do I.? I must recalibrate, Oh me oh my.'