Important note about this poem:
After Adam's fall,
After the great deluge,
After the tower of Babel,
God desired to physically
Keep mankind disconnected.
Thus, separation by continents
By way of oceans and seas.
"...and the waters that were gathered
together he called Seas. ...". Gen.1.10b
Out of me,
the Contenents came,
And my waves against
their shores were my greeting
My depth is defying
My waves are trying
My winds are unforgiving
I am the oceans and the seas
The fog is blinding
Not a time for crying
Everything keeps moving
Unlike the river flowing
I am the oceans and the seas
Here, everything's rushing
The brave ones are fishing
For shrimp and tuna; craving
I am the oceans and the seas
I, the mistress of partitioning
I, the master of disconnecting
I also major in separating
I too, minor in dividing
I am the oceans and the seas
The massive pathway for conquering
The gigantic roadway for discovering
The first highway to faraway traveling
I am the oceans and the seas
There's something
Special about May and me.
As we approach the end of May,
And as June at our doorsteps lay,
There's a thing or two I'd like to say.
From time to time along the line of life,
May has been a springboard,
A diving board,
A starting point,
A launching pad,
A gateway,
To a life of work and purpose,
Disconnecting me from childhood play.
May contains the dismay I felt on the day
of my dad's demise when I was 13.
May houses my graduations
From elementary, high school, and college.
May documents my final preparations for
My upcoming June wedding day.
May records the day I left home at 17
To start a life of my very own.
May reveals the priceless snapshot
Of mom, grandma, and my 8 younger
Siiblings waving goodbye to me.
As I think and muse about the month of May,
I am permiated by things that were sometime grey.
But I also see a key unlocking a host of precious memories. I tell you, There's really something special between May and me.
TDS is certainly real
And has with the fervor of newfound religion
Captured the hearts and minds of millions
Actually hundreds of millions.
But the good news is it’s curable,
And all that requires is disconnecting
From the mainstream fake news media
And hyper biased, self-censored
Social media streams
For just a season or two.
Call it going cold turkey, but give it a few
And see what a clear head is like
As you quietly just walk away
And get on with your life…
(10/10/25)
Artificial intelligence
created simply, because we can
to easily, lazily, complete tasks we plan,
and ones perhaps, we cannot do on our own.
No incentive now
to pursue knowledge or grow
no need for humanity to learn or know
how we are succumbing to boredom flow.
Now, all our bridges can be burned
our very words to be reinterpreted and reformed
disconnecting any or all need
passage of learning to our progeny.
Machinery, rote computerized mind thinking
solvers of the cosmos blinking
as all living entities are seized
to impregnation of the mind's slow disease.
Already most are lost to creative goals
incapable of educating hearts and souls
more dependent every day of the powers that be
making every decision for you and me.
today, yesterday, tomorrow an artificial intelligence sea
will rewrite our history
with little need of any input or discovery
from you or you or me.
oh, the irony...
glued
to electronic devices
designed to foster
connectedness,
yet the yawning gulf
between relationships
w i d e n
as a result.
with technology overuse,
far too many become
increasingly isolated.
with lips pressed
against cell phones,
fingertips
tap-dancing
on keyboards
as minutes
elongate to hours;
we grow oblivious
to the world around us:
ringing phones,
ticking clocks,
chirping birds,
loved ones
calling out to us
go unheard;
undivided attention
denied
to acquaintances,
friends,
even family members...
is it any wonder
we misspend time
electronically plugged in?
what has happened
to face-to-face communication?
what a world of difference
it makes
temporarily disconnecting
to r e e s t a b l i s h
the human connection.
I know this is temporary
But it doesn’t ease the pain,
Faking who I am for now
Pushing those feelings down again.
The repercussions of doing this
Already fills my head with doubt,
Forcing myself to be present
When I just want to sit this one out.
I can’t pre-empt the future
But if I’m just going from my past,
My world will crash all over again
And I’ll be feeling like an outcast.
If I’ve had the strength to fake this
Why can’t I do this everyday?
I know I possibly could but
It’s exhausting in every possible way.
This disconnecting feeling
Is making my world feel quite small,
Friends and family become strangers
As I build up this impenetrable wall.
I can see you waving goodbye on the horizon,
Disconnecting me from the warmth of compassion,
Leaving the promises to keep totally unheard,
Quitting the love the other way you preferred.
No difference, though, between a mother's lap and your arms,
In the middle of the way, unfolding the romance.
I know it well; this is not your choice.
Just like me, you wanted to rejoice.
I wish I had a glimpse of how things are set.
Helpless we are, my love, in front of fate.
During the Deacon Preachin' Weekend
the deacon recommended unplugging
going offline to avoid screen addiction
no games, not texts, no emails, nothing
disconnecting, in order to connect --
to more important priorities in life :)
without distractions or attachments
easing the mind, the eyes, the hands
a self-imposed, spontaneous Zen Mode
not the whole entire day, perhaps, but
so we can do something else worthwhile
--if it becomes necessary, to be present
to our thoughts, studies, others, prayer?
"For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams" Edgar Allan Poe
My true love was always my moonbeam
To breathe her light
She had to be her own addiction
She has control over the saint of procure
I drink to her freelance contingency of no mercy
A glance at her smile.. wanton fever.. stone me petrified
A shooting star
True dreams please come to me
Like it was Lust like it was Love
I could have been friends evermore
Its all for that smitten that smile does cast
Plays part of the twist part of the laugh
When she feels too anxious about giving
It's her folly I can't take
A whisper from the truth becomes me
I found lost in her shine that beam diverged away from my soul
The moon doth cast my Moonbeam nevermore
No buzz, buzzing of her number 902
Hiding her perks my now vacant desires
Seduced by my loneliness
Tortured by some disconnecting dreams
Where time lost it's fears
To where life is but tears
Number 902
"The talk before the walk" Love Caution
Make me understand how you are able to break my heart before dating you?
You took my breath away and l know ours beat in sync we are a rhythm constructed by destiny.
I do not have answers and so do you , why let linger for longer knowing you will disappoint?
Love hurts either way but it is worth it ? Are you worth it? Perhaps l am asking for the impossible like looking for a needle in a hay stack only time can tell what we are.
At the same time like prime time it's getting swarthy the picture we hesitate to paint the image disconnecting from the frame .
If we dive in then let it be damn the consequences life is too short you might win to lose but only if you fail to try .
The paradox to life is the one we all can't escape or begin to comprehend and that's the truth so at the same time we might as walk away before the scratches.
Reality contorted the way she would see
Disconnecting from us set her free
Free to explore and create stories so dark
The monsters and ghouls all left a deep mark
Alone with her truths as we all just stare
Those beliefs broke her heart while her brain would tear
Which sounds healthier
to you?
Advent Serenity
or Christmas Birthing Terror
Separate identity comes from sacred Mother
and embryonic Child
interwoven bio-roots
As awareness of serene light
emerges from safe
and warm
original wombed
dark nutritious night
As regenerative individual delight
of nascent flowers integrity's potential
to evolve from organically disconnecting
birthing
and rebirthing powers
As LeftBrain ego identity
revolves with sacred democratic integrity
of healthy EarthMother
imprinting each indigenously divine
Gaian elder RightMind infant
Trusting EarthTruths
born of Serene Beauty
Like purple Health
co-acclimating red/blue Wealth
Like C centered resilience
emerging from A/E re-membering resonance
Like positive 1
mediating serene
resonantly balanced
NotFull/NotEmpty 0
co-emergent
double-binary compassion.
Do you feel it? The divide?
The chasm that runs between us?
Do you sense it growing?
Standing on opposing sides Screaming to be heard.
To be understood
Desperately trying to build bridges
We could fill that chasm with our love Right to the brim
Almost to overflowing. Overwhelming
But still we can not seem to cross
Can't even meet in the middle
We hear echos of our discontent that were once drowned out by our kisses
Vexations muffled by shared caresses now barely remembered
Can we love enough to fly over the void?
Or will we fail and fall?
Fall into the depths of our differences Plunge into the parts of us that can not change
Drown in our discord
My deep endless love is inexhaustible but I'm not without limits
The edge is so close
Denial is my greatest friend The refusal to be broken
But the cracks are showing in us both
Growing wider with every battle Breaking us apart
Tearing our fragile hearts to pieces
Disconnecting our appreciation
Provoking our divide
Do you feel it?
Between hours from morn to sundown
I drift in a place of nowhere--
and though birdsongs seemingly coo
“It’s alright; you are young"
frailties leave me wanting
each and every move that twines us.
These doleful eyes hide away
behind a cloud of ebon shades,
expressing numbness or
is it vulnerability quite undone
when melancholia seethes, aimless---
our world, our co-owned pledge
disconnecting us from a language
now unknown like torn ampersand.
I press my hand on a montage
and wonder about all possibilities,
yet times flit along zones once alive
only to bury dreams, unless unless...
````
Your Best Free Verse 2020 Contest
For John Hamilton
Written 5/19/2020 Re-Submitted 5/24/2020
Although moon glints, I am inconsolable
This womb, your harbor
Nourished by splendor of days, nights
While we wait in anticipation for life...
Fifteen weeks it is, come evening
As I imagine a baby so pure
Dwindling her toes, chuckling aloud:
Till your pulse beat slips ticks away
As my voice quietly murmurs,
'Rachel, fight the gush,
Your pink cradle waits for you at home.'
I wail through hours, ripped by breaths forlorn
The navel's cord
Disconnecting in the thorn of frozen silence,
When labor pains my body endures
Nothing to gain, everything to lose
Duskfall wakes, new morn vanishes:
Looking at you on gauzy sheets
The ghost of emptiness rears--
Depriving a cradle of laughter unborn
That I cannot imagine an angel winging,
O not now...
Not when I ache and moan unto heaven, aggrieved ~
Contest of john lawless, Let 'Er Rip Part #2
~ Based on my first cousin's experience
12/14/2018
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