Best Short Sighted Poems
from suffering and pain
that is piped into veins
by the organ-less master
who relentlessly plays
from a congested gutter
of fake themes
hiding in deception
and callous clutter
from distaste of the old
the sick the poor and uninvited
from the self-imposed
silent deaf and short-sighted
I rise
as a bed of plume feathers
carry me gently towards
an untainted treasure
klimt gold ash pours over my body
soothing the distress I allowed to infest
I stroll along the mountains aurora
feet sinking into a bed of stardust flora
gazing out at mankind
a dull drum beat of the blinding matrix
trudging in sync to a contrived greatness
oblivious to the thundering roar
of perishing seas
animals lie floating
in warm global soaking
smoldering sun with rusted rays
shivers in the sky
with disheartened malaise
the illusion is breaking
a decision is undertaking
a red beaked sparrow beckons me
to look off into the darkening blue
a great tempest is coming
and long overdue
TIGHTWAD TIMMY
Tightwad Timmy bought some very cheap meat
With fresh vege t'would be a nice tasty treat
But something was wrong
There was a strange pong
And maggots were dropping off by his feet...
FINGERLESS FRED
Fred lost his finger in a meat grinder
Offered a huge reward for the finder
But short sighted Sue
Used it in her stew
And felt poking and prodding inside her...
Written 14th January 2022.
Soaring and swaying over craggy hills
How I long to be the mighty eagle.
Best when my strong wings stretch
And gliding, searching for food
To feed the miniscule fledglings.
After verdant resurrection, green leaves
Come to life, yet birds hide from
His majestic lofty strong eagle.
Pity the small ones could not stop
Their mellifluous lark-like songs.
Unfortunately small rodents are short sighted.
Along the placid lake rodents friskily run
In and out of the sedges. Food is now near.
Wrestling with time,
an illusion supreme
Its trinity empiric,
three masks to deceive
Past, future, and present,
our dreams undefined
Outside of their stricture,
new presence unrhymed
Rejecting convention,
short sighted and slight
Imprisoning our vision,
with capture and fright
In seizing this instant,
its moment sublime
All truth flowing freely
—unfrozen in time
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)
Cyril the short-sighted cook,
Misread the recipe book,
It said add custard
But he instead added mustard,
The hot dessert made everyone crook.
To read or watch movies, that is the question.
When tired at workday's end, depressed about death's
certainty and my recent surgery
unable to contribute purpose
i.e., figure out whether to bomb Iran
or worship Krshna
and other gods such as Homer gives us in the Iliad
I lack vision therefore I choose television.
Chemistry text, bifurcated plant key
esp. grasses, intro to calculus, physics
unopened time slides by inexorably.
That's the dilemma with no resolution,
drooping rachis, striations on the lemma.
Dying chooses you. You don't choose dying.
So go slow as the day will allow.
The cancer patient's real work is facing
harsh realities and making adjustments:
getting the most out of life, considering
what his children will need after he's gone,
preparing his wife, parents, colleagues and friends,
and completing important professional tasks.
Get the most out of life. That's all God asks.
In Life of Pi the tiger is tiresome, short-sighted
eating everything in sight today, no plan for tomorrow.
The boy, however, is beautiful, reading
the lifeboat manual, building a resting place on the ocean
from oars and life vests, writing about his emotions,
loneliness and observations. The tiger's obsession
with killing keeps our boy alive with fear,
an aphrodisiac, a distraction from any hint
of hopelessness. And then there is the ultimate unknown,
the boy's conversations with Krshna which explain
the innumerable stars and their gentle glow.
We hardly remember the truth
Victims of the Great Forgetting
We hardly recognize that history is popular culture
A screenplay of the past written by the victor
Just look at Thomas Jefferson
Author of the Declaration of Independence
With his quill scribing the words, "All men are created equal."
We hardly think of him slinking back to his slave plantation
Grabbing one of his African slave mistresses
and having his way with her
His love puppet
Of which he had a harem
My ninth grade teacher (whom had tenure)
whispered from the side of his face
The only thing Columbus discovered
Was those people he called Indians
Which we now call Native Americans
were savages in the sack
And the only thing he brought back
from the New World was syphilis
We hardly look at the big picture
which is that we are destroying ourselves
We cannot continue to keep living
the way we are living
And not expect civilization to collapse
We are so short sighted
We hardly see history repeating itself
We are Rome
And quite sadly Nixon is our Nero
Hardly a hero
It won't be long before
The clock strikes zero
By: Joseph DeMarco
peace and quiet tha's all i desire,a village green without a town crier
a tranquil spot a silent idyll,more chance of finding caviar at your local lidl
i get through my door and hope the noise will recede then the kids next door decide to start a stampede
up and down stairs at a thunderous pace,i'm seriously thinking about knocking and spraying them with mace
serves them right for making my life hell,ah bliss solitary confinement and my own prison cell
i go to the library to escape the hubbub, only to find the kids have started there own social club
the librarian in charge tries in vain to restore order, more chance of peace on the palestinian border
i'm short sighted ,long sighted and walk with a stick, yet from forty yards i can hear a digital clock tick
i shoulndn't complain but i defenitely plan to, one more thing what do the noise abatement society actually do
Tanka by night
Deceptive words by day
This the Russian leader’s way
Putin is short... sighted too
As he stumbles over Ukraine
Forewarned
History repeats
Nato retreats
In a huddle of words
Tanka you for nothing says Ukraine
As a hail of Russian shells fall like rain
Europe must beware of Russian floods
Footnotes from Japan:
A samurai warrior raises his sword
Slicing though many ancient verse and texts
He smiles at me, as I stare back in absolute abject terror
Am I I next?
He is beaming at me in raucous laughter
As he says No Tanka, Tanka to you
I raise my saki and replied Tanka to you too!!!!
Poem For Deacon Jeanne Miller
Was amazed when I found my worst enemy
Actually ended up being I, myself and me
Throughout all of time and deep into space
And, of course, it was me setting the pace.
Out of complete control turned out being
And only myself who was worth seeing
Had an ego within my bright, big head
If only I had listened to God instead.
Should know that blessed will be the one
Who gave God credit for what they had done
It is He who I have religiously recognized
While devil down deep there is disguised.
With devil many times I have been annoyed
God removed my sins and then devil destroyed
A tremendous thought from God did did occur
Instead of him what if Devil had been a her.
So ho, ho, ho and have a very merry time
Up tree of life you will start to timidly climb
When gray, old and top you tried and reached
Was due to great sermon to people you preached.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
So blessed be our beloved Deacon Jeanne
Never short sighted but hard to see her bean.
MOTHER NATURE'S THE HOST
Looking down on animals because with mouths
they don't talk
Is human arrogance is which happens a lot
It brings out how short sighted humans can be
Animal intelligence is beyond what humans can see
Animals communicate with just a flick of the tail or eyes
Their communication skills humans can't even surmise
The natural world humans left long ago
Caring only about new movies or a TV show
Nature for humans is a foreign word to most
Forgetting planet Earth is where Mother
Nature's the host
I am content to walk alone,
but to walk in company with others
adds vigor and passion to the journey.
Rumi
Good Taoists,
although I am not sure I actually know any,
refine their inclusively subordinate clauses,
and sentences,
and contracts,
and lives
Define eternally and mutually satisfactory gratitude,
anthrosupremely alone
LeftBrain dominantly apart
We camouflage EarthTribe's cooperative ecological praxis
producing win/win healthy outcomes
consistent with multicultural peak experience research
within human natural systems
Analogically synthesizing sacred principles of Earth's nature,
Her natural flow and spirited functions
Her decay and lifeless dysfunction;
like post-millennial PermaCulturalists.
But, Western Monotheistic Cultures
prefer more compassionate vigor in our strut
through this divinely manifest live-system
we inherited from Indigenous Elders past,
comparatively short-sighted
about EarthMother's healthy global future.
All newborns are experiential researchers of balance,
symmetry,
flow and rhythm,
form and beauty,
capacity and lack thereof,
time's sufficiency and spatial synergy,
and lack thereof.
Human children also evolve as recreative muses
of color, shape, paradigms, stories,
rhythms of patterned confluence,
and denigrated dissonance.
We can,
Taoist or not,
child or not,
use dissonance to show us our way
toward appositional confluence.
We are each compelled to survive,
and sometimes togathering thrive,
in this Tao way,
within double-boundaries of systemic spacetime trauma
and therapeutic imagination,
rooted in regenetic memory.
Imaginations grow intuitively fueled,
empathic powered,
passioned,
vigorous,
with polysystemic comprehension of Prime Relationship
P-Yang=NP-YinYin,
binomial win/win thermodynamic balance,
as +1 = -(-0)
co-binary eco-empathic.
Cooperative economic polycultural balance,
exploring inclusive oppositional subsidiarity
to optimize EarthDay's slow-growth atmosphere
as one EarthTribe Community,
both compassionate,
and, hopefully, still content
with being less lonely
hiding behind all our LeftBrain dominant
verbal camouflage.
Our rosy love grew fast to bloom,
Burnt in the heatwave of desire -
Young and impervious to doom -
Out-lusted, nothing to admire.
We spurned our tender love, my rose;
Its lustre faded, petals dried,
Fast beating hearts, now hollow, froze -
Nothing but thorns lodged deep inside.
Short-sighted sweet impromptu love!
Strong lasting roots grow underground -
Well nurtured is the rose we have -
And now it blossoms lifetime-round!
March 20, 2023
Everyone will get Respect when They Leave Their Ego Behind
Life consists of ups and downs and if we learn from it we can be proud of ourselves because it indicates that we have developed our brains.
And if we are not rich or from noble descent we will have to earn it with our brains and hands, because treasure box will probably be empty and the complement will be there when we are hardworking.
To achieve and fill it up, we will have to endeavour so much things and that is not a wrong attitude, because we will proudly fulfilled it to get success in order to be a valuable person in society.
For some people it is not easy to maintain the same personality when they already be in the success zone.
It get beyond their imagination and they change own identity with a sense of greater value to others.
But everyone is equal in life, never think that we are more than others and we should show self-esteem with similar respect to all.
The saying “Just act normal, that’s already crazy enough” is the best to take for comparison.
If we change our identity, because of our deserves success and therefore think that we have become more than others, we will lose our own dignity.
An imaginative personality is so short-sighted thinking, because how we can behave ourselves when we go back to the square one?
Be sensible and wise, treat everyone the way we want to be treated and respect not to condemn anyone for their actions or origin.
Having an Ego is an incorrect assessment of ourselves, but let others to judge and find out that we know everyone have to eat and go to the toilet.
We all also need to sleep and our problems can be solved all if we interact socially with each other and believe that we are equal.
Our identity to show the world is to give respect and received without an ego.
I wish you a healthy life.
Kindly Regards,
Author Jan Jansen
http://poems.easybranches.com/
A cat sniffs the crooked brown dough of the sullen moon;
The tempting smell of warm bread seems held by a glass sky
Old age, carefully steps on the glass, always ready to cry
Like they`d learn again to walk,holding an invisible balloon.
With glassy eyes looking at the strange baked moon,
The large dynasty of the unemployed and ex-miners,
Ecologists and readers of Bible, embarrassed beginners
Cannot "hear at a little distance", in the brown afternoon;
But a short-sighted misanthropist, observed while acting
As a conductor of the strike`s syncopation turned in syncope:
“Even the doctor with infinite awkwardness used his stethoscope;
I think, -because, no one can communicate only through feelings”
The brown cat in the street, shining eyes round about;
All cars seem gathered in the same frozen town;
The only birch tree from the hill was cut down;
Mourning neighbors live in their permanent doubt
To protest against solitude, and so many noisy cars;
And obviously, too many accidents in the town;
“Wait on the zebra…Don`t cross Mr. Brown!”
Lonely crowds, picture of still life with cellulars…
Seasons buried the face in tired brown fountains,
Long dirty brown drifts of snow and brown sensations
Step with ugly brown clay, and let traces for generations,
Because, cyanide used to pull gold from Red Mountains;
Everybody is in such a brown hurry towards nowhere.
Halt!Mr. Brown looks for his cat; the firemen help him to sit.
The cat climbed the moon, ready in a hurry to taste it;
Winter and cat stay with claws out;silence and the brown vault.