Disabling Poems

it is all about children

It is all about children.


I know of a man who can be outspoken at times
he is also very rich, which can be an aber
the struggle to find meaning in life when 
you can have all the physical things life offers
To be wealthy is a strain, do try it if you can 
the man in mind also has a great sense of
wicket humor, which makes a so very human
He has the idea that people of means should
have as many children as they can 
I agree the well-situated can afford to give 
children a proper upbringing and a great education 
and they will not have a disabling effect
the plague of poverty.
His critics are many, but that goes with the terrain 
let me say the middle class also can have a child
or two or even three if they can afford that
the world needs lawyers and people to fill 
office space and talk on the TV
As for workers, one child is enough physical
labor is no longer needed, anyone can learn
how to operate a forklift.
The rich man I know of has not spelled it out 
like that because screams of protests,
 might
lady riot, so let me put words in his mouth
It is all about children and the future

The Speaker the Fame

The fame preceeds the
Speaker. A Sleek and 
Continuous perspiration 
Caused him to loose focus.
Did you notice the emotion 
With commotion? But know 
This, the motion of Devotion 
Is the deal. Causing disabling 
Emotions the feeling 
Retreating it's real. The
Pleasant fluorescent the
Appeal comes out and reveals
The thrill the fame no shame 
He proved the rose the thorn 
The testament reborn. The 
Showing the shown. The skills
To be honed. Reach the flame
Handle the fame the fame
Reclaim the flame Handle the
Fame the fame more fame
The flame never dies.

Dear Dean

Dear Dean of TedTalk
about unconditional self-regard,

As you clearly know from experience,
overcoming disabling
disempowering changes
isn't so much about
stopping the habit
of comparing oneself with others

Yet has everything to do
with not contrasting oneself
prejudicially
against Privileged Others.

Rereading Hemingway

The re-read (poet)

Hemingway was a writer suffering from a disabling inhibition, 
the conversation he had with women in his books are based
 on wishes and not reality.
Women in his life were stronger than him, he tried 
to compensate by bawdy behavior, it always ended with him 
stroking the cat and she going back to the USA.
Ernest Heming way was an alcoholic who made his hero
take care center stage.
At times he wrote like an angel there, are lines in his writing 
that is high-class poetry.
After reading his work, setting aside his bragging
he was a great poet.

Dancing Psalms

Dancing our epic song
inside images
dreams
narratives
ritual motions
rhythmic changes 
disembodied

Can become dissonantly self-predative
depressing
exhausting
compressing

Claustrophobic mean remains
of darkly disabling
demonic Othering;
nothing left
for cooperative choice,
wellbeing voice.

Dancing our song
dividing MeWe healthy humanity
in unhealthy ways

Sometimes therapeutically remediated
by better
silent outside
sacred listening,
for healing humane justice
in divinely green peace
forest Cathedrals,
desert sand drifting Paradise,
oceanic blue Heavens,
mountainous purple sunset Passions,
silent flowing rivers 
of transparent Power
chasing
following vulnerable 
wounding Light

Cooperatively active
inside/outside copassion
recklessly curious love
restoring EarthPeace
one dance at a time

For cooperatively revolutionary
mediations
resonantly YangSun sung
YintegralEarth danced

In and Out
Self and Other
therapeutically empathic 
sacred muses
dancing our co-arising Psalms.

More Hopeful Inscriptions

"I believe through any trial
there is always a way"

Such profound belief
in powers of love
is hard for my hands
to honestly sing
and not shyly wave away

With integrity of my final
truthful say

But, still
I do silently believe
as polyvagal Health Theorists 
systematically play

Through any win/lose
or lose/lose trauma trial
we always do our best
in a more resonant
win/win therapeutic 
co-arising way

To both sing and standing dance
our most resiliently harmonic day

To withstand a more resistant
wounded child's lack of nurtured
healthy nature spirited way 
to robustly pray

In this
our cooperative
co-invested circle
of soulful gospel
sacred spacetime stay

I believe through alarming 
Othering trauma
of disabling marginalization,
criminalization,
commodification,
AnthroSupremacist colonization

Nonviolent multicultural compassion
is always our healthiest
act of win/win co-invested action
loving our wealthiest resonation

Drumming indigenously wise 
thrumming interdependent nations
restoring our humming 
resilient 
EarthJustice folkway.

Disabling Economic Zone

Y-ucky
E-pidemic
T-erribly
H-alts

M-an's
E-xpenditure
N-otoriously
D-isabling
E-conomic
Z-one

Topic: Birthday of Yeth U. Mendez (June 01) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

Daily Monopoly Game

Contest rules, only one, enter whatever you like.
No prompts or specs, some would call that  lazy.
A dictatorship, just a bit like the third reich
disabling comments on both sides, first strike.

Winners chosen by whatever the sponsor wants.
Room for skims, scans, and glances – it’s crazy.
What of reading, deliberation and careful response?
Control via nonchalance, strike two he vaunts.

Roughly, thirty-five “reads” that is, on a good day;
participation is always good, fill-ups are fast.
"Judging's" even faster, if you notice, by the way
it’s a Monopoly craps game, many of us choose to play.

I cannot speak for others, but here's my view
nothing ventured; nothing lost; nothing gained.
A poem's well-being does not rest with one "Yahoo!"
or if you please, on the other hand, with one DQ.

April 13, 2020

contest:  Kai Michael Neuman's Monopoly Poetry Contest

Town Children

TOWN CHILDREN

Deep in the midst of dawning view 
Children awaken to a fresh morning dew

Eyes heavy with sleeping
Still in their beds
While the chattering of neighbors
Irritate their heads

Deep in the midst of eyes awakening
Telephones ringing becomes disabling

Minds trying to engage
Amid the noise
Another day in a town
That’s lacking poise

Deep in the midst of some town avenues
Children, out the door, meet mufflers spew

Visions of soon visiting  
The country side
Propel their young legs
To dream in stride

While…Deep in the midst of some country side lanes
Children, not so different, find faults and complain

Minds trying to engage
Still in their beds
While visions of town life
Dance in their heads

Deep in the midst of a dawning view
Children awaken to a fresh morning dew

Another day in the country
That’s lacking poise
So tired of the country life
Needing noise

© 10/02/2019

Dysphoria

Where did I run off to? 

The skin crawls. 
The eyes see but do not observe. 
The ears hear but tune out, as I try to tune in. 
Here I remember thoughts that once felt like a plague; 
How can I be a better person today? 
Whose cup is half empty, aching to run over?


Lately, and for an eternity now, I feel the true ailment,
The winding spiral of nothingness which touches the very pit of me,

 from the tip of my head to the bare of my feet, 
with the tax of a body to drag along.



A void i prefer to avoid, but is quite fond of me, 
embodies me,
while everything internally screams a disabling, prolonged clamor of vacancy; 
extinguishment. 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. 
Where did I run off to?

September

Yesterday when we were walking
You asked me how I was feeling
That gale I so well remember
Tears fell like leaves in September.

Disabling words just made me sad
Tore my heart it made you feel bad
Your hazel brown eyes keep telling
Tears fell like leaves in September.

And the promises we have made
Don't forsake me, love'll never fade
All my sorrows, heart is mourning
Tears fell like leaves in September.

(C)2017 Maricris Cabrera

Mr Skellington

If I was brought a skeleton,
the reanimated ghost.

Then he could feel alive again,
and to long full lives we would toast.

With cups full of red champagne,
unnatural reality at its most.

Watch as the unforsaken host,
bangs upon his bones.

Understand the wicked in our ways,
of being semipro’s.

Standing up for those unable,
feeling appreciation grow.

Then disabling the thoughts of man,
say my name three times, if you can.

You see, I hold faith in things unseen,
that live in shadow and in between.

One day the rain will all be over,
and the pain will just start to be seen.

Love Remains Alive In Death - Collaboration With Silent One

A Collaboration w/Silent One


Flowers you placed on the window
now wilt, crumbling in my palm
Their scent seems to have transcended,
accompanying you to the heavens

Your fragrance still lingers,
sometimes I hear you whispering my name
Shadows in the garden appear ... and disappear,
maybe hiding in an overgrown, decaying garden

Dusty photos filled with memories,
show happy faces full of love
Now this face is engraved with fatigue;
lost in realms of profound sadness,
as constant misery poisons these veins,
disabling the mind into a sombre retreat

Unsweetened taste grace my lips
in the land of the living,
bitter regrets darkly shadow my mind 
Feeling your loss deeply, 
as the pain gains more barren ground

In this accursed place of perpetual sadness,
I dwell alone in a house of desolate walls
Though they talk sometimes ... 
I hear you whispering my name at night:
You say come to bed soon,
put your sorrow away
and lay beside me, my love

Trump They Jeered and Jeered

Trump They Jeered and Jeered

On and on Trump they Jeered and jeered
Until into twilight zone he disappeared
Which is where all of the weirdos went
Time together there often had spent.

Their pursuit appeared to be quite trivial
Violence was displayed by hitting anvil
Should have seen the many sparks fly
And hurt when ending up in your eye.

To hear any reported he often refused
Trump was so difficult to be defused
And him finding out what was bugging
On him there were many things tugging.

Trump had avoided all of his suspense's
He ended up suffering the consequences
Said was not fair when his lack of vanity
Disabling him causing complete insanity.

Trump did deserve every ounce of it
after he had been critical of a poor,
handicapped reporter and a Gold Star
Family. Who else has he been critical
of lately. Let me count all the ways
and huge numbers which were not
at his inauguration.

James Suspicious Aliwishes Horn 
Retired Veteran and Roving Poet
(Bet you thought I was going to
say reporter.)

Powerless Observations

Reflections of Hopeless, helplessness in your eyes

I'm unable to feel your pain, my useless sympathy

gives no relief from the torture that your experiencing,

I pretend to understand about your illness trying to

repeatedly say positive words of wisdom and hope,

living and seeing the one I love suffer with an illness

that's so disabling, only knowing my despair not yours,

relying on professionals prescribing unpronounceable 

drugs, diagnosed on a spectrum scale of mental illness,

watching our lives passing by seeing no future for either 

of us, when will we get any relief from this anguish that's 

been bestowed upon us? Will things ever be normal again?

we will never be physically parted, though through this

devastating illness we are alone, me in my world you 

in yours, I know there are people worse off in this world,

why then do I feel so unprivileged by not feeling your love?

12/11/2016.

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