In retrospect you can never
make sense as to why it happens.
A minute late sets a sequence loose
towards some catastrophic event,
or if you miss a step taken to complete
a simple task, you'll begin
to fall apart. So much
seems to pivot on the perfect
execution of such trite things.
Nothing is exempt.
And then there is the countless
tributaries drawn to represent
each critical point along
the course of a single life,
or worse, the universe with its
almost infinite intersects of chance
webbed across time and space
back to its beginning. All appear
to be intricately linked, wired
into the locked rulebook
of a sinister, cosmic game.
Such thoughts overwhelm
and paralyze the brain.
Each movement made,
each calibrated ritual
bring into question just what's
at stake, what harm will be
unleashed if you get it wrong.
This is replayed again
and again as if to multiply the sum.
In the prison
of your regimented days,
you keep counting minutiae
and the spinning chamber
of an imaginary gun.
You just want a reset to zero.
Quatrain
Haiku's
Free Verse
Sonnet
Surely form matter's not in fact becomes
irrelevant
As does correct grammar, spelling
tense and use of elongated complex
word's
As is not the initial most critical point of
poetry
What is meant and said and is written
down
Otherwise in effect it may well be
a dictionary or a thesaurus
Nothing more than complex word's
assembled In alphabetical order
That when combined and put together
make absolutely no sense at all like
Apple , Actuary , Agrochemical , Adversary
and , and , and , and like
D is for Does
P , Poetry & P , Point
A , Apart
F , From
Y , You
R , Reader / Read / Right / Reply
E , End
Crying out to God
Enables us to hear,
His response.
While on life's journey, we should always be
GROWING
CHANGING and
EXCELLING
In new and very different ways.
And then when we have fully matured,
Only then are we truly ready,
To emerge with a new sense of direction,
With a deeper understanding.
Of our struggles along the way.
Because at this critical point
We began to see life,
through the Father's eyes
We get it, our struggles were not in vain.
And our pain does matter.
It is challenging to face difficulties in areas where your peers have surpassed at ease,
To always try your hardest to fit in, or try to please,
To excessively work on being at least average- is exhausting!
Yet dropping out of school is more taunting,
More taunting than being bullied, alone or discriminated,
You pretend to be alright- yet inside you can’t stop feeling humiliated,
Even if you give in to “being weak” by letting out a cry,
You remain un-heard and instead told to die!
You’re:
A burden upon your family,
A burden upon your school,
A burden upon society,
Being name called - dorky tool!
You let the words fly by you, and in your head mock their pitiful charade,
But right at the critical point when you’re holding that razor blade,
Hands tremble, voice quivers, you try to remain bold,
You can’t help but subside, and finally do what you’ve always been told
The hateful slurs then boomerang right back in your face,
Apparently it’s what’s best for the human race…
What is truth's pure golden nugget?
A debt-free real balanced budget!
The concept is known
But history has shown
Great figures know how to fudge it
Author's note: The right wing wants to pilfer nature's bounty and destroy the natural balance to make us rich because god says it's OK. The left wing wants to do the same--only more slowly and without god. In the end, capitalistic greed is the real evil because it is taking us to a critical point of no return. We really need to stop using smoke and mirrors and do an honest accounting.
I asked my daughter if she's happy that I'm gone,
her reply was "I'm sad daddy", her face, a picture not to be drawn.
How do I reply to something like that?
Torn between the one I love and my self created combat.
Are you really at peace without me?
like I can't even talk to you, feeling the third degree.
I don't have it together so please don't assume,
waking up every morning feeling impending doom.
Reaching a critical point in my life where I wanted to end it all,
I cried for help, the reaction from the one I love, I can always recall.
The whole thing thought to get attention,
adding to my frightening tension.
A deluded idea spawned,
the failure of commitment dawned.
Surrounded by drug addicts, alcoholics and the major depressed,
after seeing such things, I realized that I am blessed.
Would you be happier if suicide was my answer?
Or are you satisfied I'm alive with my soul suffering cancer?
A anguish that I truly feel can be cured,
from the love you once had for me, a love that seemed to endure.