fading
late summer
slumber
past retentiveness
absurdity would not last
you or me
idiosyncratic
riddles held not held
pain lurking
an obdurate innuendo
bonafide
talks uttered
not uttered by me
an acquaintance
whimsical bearing
I can witness
concurrently
a squandering
magnetism balanced
voluptuousness
blurred cipher
withstanding at the egress
nevermore ingress
taught apotheosized
in conundrum
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived. Poem inspired by Poet Brian Strand.
Written: February 12, 2022
1st place contest winner
A Strand (1073) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
The turning sphere of history remains without merit
Until we earn again for ourselves that which we inherit;
The open window admits the gifter and the grifter.
Passionate pages seeking to be filled with meaning,
Accept copy and paste solutions without fact checking;
The illusion’s brilliance blinds.
Freedoms won with the sacrifice of patriots inveterate
Are ceded to a siren’s song by a servile electorate;
A vote for the melody no matter the lyrics.
The anomaly becomes a tool to indict a group
By extrapolation in a never ending loop;
So many so willingly led by so few.
A kaleidoscope of human mutations vying chaotically to be begot.
Is this what six billion years of random opportunism has wrought;
*****sapiens, the symphony, played to discordant notes?
buttoned up tightly
black iris maiden
smoky extrapolation of time
dancing along in rhythm
guarded by black cameo
pierced, not pampered
silent, stoic, revealing nothing
black iris maiden,
resigned to her fate
greeting no one
smoky memories
hazy not helpful
hurt beyond recognition
dragged to doctors
silent, stoic, revealing nothing
Tees and Cees
Loopholes online firms exploit
In very small print on transaction documents a normal eye seldom spies and sees
Until legal implications take him for a maladroit
Too gullible to bother
Too illiterate to placate
Too fallible
And too inveterate
To take seriously
To address with respect
To injure deleteriously
To treat with disrespect
With the impunity sanctioned by outdated legislation
Written for brick and mortar dinosaurs
Which enables their spineless extrapolation
To rub salt on sores
Customers sustain
When click and trick businesses
Retain and maintain in a vain
Effort to benefit from the folly their monopoly disgorge and disburse as egregious legal excesses.
Soul Consciousness
Is it the consciousness of the soul we seek?
Or the “conscious” mind in search of its “soul”.
For the soul resides in the eternal unconscious,
is ever present in the eternal – present – moment’s
subtle “animation” of the physical,
stimulation of the mental.
My soul…..the essence of my being
has existed for all of time,
is but a particle of the whole
an aspect of the “deity”,
a facet of creations desire for fulfillment
seeking union with its purpose.
My soul is consciously aware
of creations incompletion,
of the need for men and women
to acknowledge themselves
as the envoys of creation,
unite in bringing the state
of heaven – on earth.
For the extrapolation of the words
“and they were in one place with one accord”
would bring into effect a
vibratory validation of the belief
that “we souls” have a responsibility
to sound a conscious tone
in word, in action, in living
not bound by the strictures of a credo
but of a soul consciousness
vibrantly animating our being.
John G. Lawless
5/22/2016
To love and fail ...
Is it much better than not to love at all?
To love and then get hurt.
Is that the outcome?
.
To love, get married, divorced.
Is that the modern twist?
To love and all above.
Is that what we stuck with?
.
Tge Time Machine -
Would solve all those problems.
In science true, but that's extrapolation,
From what's inside, what moved civilization.
.
Civilization? Life?
The equal signs all over.
The spiral is the same,
The difference in levels.
.
By poetry and books it seems -
That Love belongs to humans.
Lets follow up the 'signs' and see -
Belongs to Life, and that's not rumors.
.
How many times big brains had problems,
Defining Life or Love, what matters.
Space-Time had problematic story,
When taken separately - same allegory.
.
As usual, all genius is simple.
It's not about worse or better ... but:
If you're alive - you love,
But if you don't - you're really not.
What you add up to may be less,
Than what’s inside and unseen,
But your behaviour will determine,
Happiness by where you've been.
Our processes can be perceived,
By family members or role-models,
Maybe hierarchically by meaning,
But definitely by our rationals.
You can get real with them easily,
Or be as complex as meteorology,
Make a point or sensible relation,
To demand a finite sociology.
When there’s a series of events,
That diverge in extrapolation,
You can associate with friends,
In commutative permutation.
They mean absolute convergence,
Rhyme with you and find time,
For an ellipsis you’ve allowed,
Which you’d like objectified fine.
You won’t falter with summation,
It is inductively correct by step,
Your base won’t make you a case,
‘Cos your hypothesis will schlep.
The times we decide to put credence in others,
Comes the time when said credence is made null.
Null and void.
The mind becomes devoid
Devoid of trust. Why?
Devoid of faith. Why?
The flabbergast that accompanies the 'shattering,'
Sometimes; no extrapolation.
No deduction.
Shattered trust.
Through realization
of observation,
one arrives at a presupposition.
Then, greater mental organization
of the addition
of information
makes a transition
to speculation,
which stimulates further inquisition.
By definition
this is cognition,
which follows knowledge accumulation.
Next, proposition
of explanation
made from the data’s interrelation
is the leap into extrapolation.
Investigation –
prerequisition
for its condition
of affirmation –
remains vital for its validation.
Verification
through repetition,
beyond the point of exasperation,
and demonstration
will merit its serious admission
and acclamation.
Last should come equation formulation.
Listen...
FEEL the echoes in the wind
as we traverse the great divide
on tops of hills truly alive
with the sounds of music.
Gleaners of pathways some
would call the stairway
to heaven...
Though others as of yet unsure,
for fear this earth has
collapsed at their feet.
Theirs...
A world of grainy vision,
a vast great beyond,
forsaken by all others.
Ours...
An infinate world that
gleams no limitations
in pixilations
Colors painted in beauty...
The gradual extrapolation
of our brief memory here
on this planet...