Squiggly lines, short and tall lines. Back in a classroom eating a box lunch with Donna, my attentive husband and other strangers.
—by Poet
pie charts & graphs
nodding
need coke & understanding
flipping
pages & eyelids
nibbling
caffeinated cookie
all
the way through
presentation
The chessboard stretches, black and white,
Too many pawns crowd every fight.
Resources dwindle, tempers flare,
Too many hands grasp thinning air.
The planners meet in silent halls,
Their charts and graphs like ancient walls.
They speak in terms both cold and clean—
"Efficient means," not "cruel" or "mean."
A gentle nudge, a softened blow,
Less birth, less war, more death below.
No famines loud, no bombs to shake—
Just medicine we do not make.
Subtle are the tools of fate,
Disguised in law, in boardroom weight.
The world, they say, must be more small—
But never start with us at all.
Thee art of hacking into phone's for Google photos my stalkers hacked in my families computer exposing documents medical records surgeries ect. be careful storing files this could become dangerous I was forced to change passwords email creating several accounts to prevent hacking these stalkers actually sent your private audience to public in order to stalk other family members stay safe stay vigil photos of my injuries my husband’s surgeries my children surgeries taken decades ago for medical research exposed senseless stalkers home computers are for storing medical records photos for future surgeries skin graphs plastic surgeries stem cells bone cancer go fund me caring bridge including hospice to be faxed to doctors to save lives stop hacking into personal medical information University of Queen Mary Syria Dubai Pakistani people Indian Medical University
The charts and graphs of doom are steep.
Our worries pile up in a heap -
Into our brains it starts to seep -
Indeed, we are in trouble deep.
Will he move fast or slowly creep,
As he, at bay, we hope to keep,
Yet, knowing he will grimly reap?
There will be no one left to weep.
No sir, you will not hear a peep.
The lucky ones die in their sleep.
Epilogue
Then God will gather up his sheep.
They’ll need to carpool in a jeep,
In a traffic jam: beep beep beep beep!
The bombs of justice overcome the bombs of terror
The drones of peace fight back the drones of war
Some gnostics claimed this world was the God’s error
I rather think about the error 404
The moral compass has not been updated
Since 1970s, it wiggles every way
According to the graphs the most outdated
Drawn from the dust of ancient blood stains
A bunch of modern noahs build new ark
Which in the fit of patronage they do
All gimmegrants and askers come to mark
Their presence in the nest of grand cuckoo
I was there too, but didn’t warble my requests
Thinking that come and go would do me better
Than if I’d stay as cuckoo fledgeling in that nest
I was mistaken, but it doesn’t really matter.
college statistics
multiplication
heavy calculus
detailed pie charts
elaborate graphs
arithmetic
algebra fun
prealgebra
counting by ten
subtraction
addition
fractions
number
one
one more revolution completed
another birthday
an ongoing process of ageing
sometimes with grace
at others with weight on my shoulders
minding the gap
between emotions and reason
tearing at what needs to be
occasionally becoming one with myself
a milestone although I prefer
to think metric
simply because shorter steps
are easier to take to reach
one target or so at the time
many of them unplanned
but the intention keeps me at bay
where the ship can anchor
sails can be set
the rudder is mobile
flares shoot up and down
maps are charted and lost
the compass magnetic whatever it takes
graphs and outlines drawn in pencil
because charcoal resists the rain
although smudges are beautiful
and it takes an eraser
to change course
and master the waves
whose tides are present eve
when the surface feels flat
like a cork from a bottle
I bob up and down
float swallow and drift
as a small fleck in the Universe
what matters is the path
from sadness to joy
sorrow to contentment
grief to elation
around in circles of impermanence
perspective growth and
my lover’s gentle caress
Then came the checkers of the facts
Patting themselves on the backs
Moccasin minds that leave no tracks
Piling up rumors in stapled stacks.
It matters not whether pro or con
They all sing a slightly twisted song
A mantra that makes the right seem wrong
Or at least filtered through an inhaled bong.
They’ve all been trained to speak with one voice
Forgetting that that is giving up choice
And chanting is naught but a lot of noise
To drown out the roar of the “preachers” Rolls-Royce.
So study the graphs, the charts, unredacted
And lean to the side to which you’re attracted
But remember the “facts” can all be retracted
With the heavy dark lines of those who attacked it.
John G. Lawless
©7/24/2022
What is happiness, I just wanted to know,
Was it the song of heavy rain or the breezy snow?
Was it a dance of colorful water fountain,
Or was it a beautiful sunflower covering the whole mountain?
The spell of rainbow across a shinning stars,
Or to see fireflies in a blanket of nightjars.
I was certain that happiness is something to be earned
As I became older, all the more I yearned,
In the process, I forgot to laugh,
and it feels as if happiness is just like falling graphs
I swarmed across the river
Where I saw leaves of trees fall and quiver,
I saw myself in the crystal clear reflection
And I understood that it was always about perception,
As I was curtains of a play has been lifted
I finally knew that life was gifted,
And it is how you take the life to be
That only if you smile, the exact reflection you'll see,
The same is the case with happiness that you want to achieve,
That's when you give it, only then you receive.
Summer taunts us verily with
now thinking back to it last year-
and praying then, we'd now be free.
But no- we still must live in fear.
Lost months' nonsense only paved
the hilly trail of ups and downs.
Told vax will work- yet, breakthroughs creep;
uncertainties leave us with frowns.
Covers deemed- erasing faces, good;
the vaxxed, unvaxxed, it matters not.
Our choice negated- freedom lost;
still call for all to get the shot.
Fresh graphs- higher indexes jeer-
must follow science they decree.
No hocus-pocus bar designs
should now become their control key.
July 29, 2021
Contest: Alpha Lines
Sponsor: Joseph May
Rules:
Any 2 lines in each stanza must rhyme
The first letters of the words in the first line of each
stanza must be in alphabetical order. My choices:
s t u v w l m n o p c d e f g f g h i j
A phantom virus, tentacles open free
with perpetual license to kill and kill.
Sentenced to death on lonely beds,
an imprisoned world standing still.
Fearful eyes over mask covered faces
plead to get back to the "normal" days.
All number graphs on TV news channels
are dearest names who've lost their gaze.
A wake -up call to sanitize your lives
how much is really "enough", you think?
Haven't we taken our lives for granted?
Nature's ecology, pushing to the brink.
Slow down humans, you're close to edge,
Let's create a new world of living together.
Essentials only, let's keep to ourselves.
or lose everything...one by one wither.
Dated: 14th May 2021
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name Your Philosophy During This Pandemi
Slowly swept clean the old footprints-graphs
by the harsh tide, soaring waves and white surfs
On the pavements of the sky monarchy
the miserable odor of the past is flying curtly
Now, it’s the sharp edge of a pandemic year
The end comes but not as an eternal end, it’s a gyre
Dale, hilly mail and mountain of the lost
at the bank of setting down the sun, it’s a ghost
By born free soul wants to fly high, wants freedom
But in the mournful living cage, it faces only doom
Whatever, here we, the human is true authority of this
We have to solve all seen-unseen problems with peace
So, let’s say goodbye this grief-stricken year with a firm conviction
Let's welcome next year to a healthy, eco-friendly world ablution
-19.12.2020 Chattogram
When I see Matt Hancock spin his lie
I can’t stop sing at his pink tie
He stands there like a demon telling us all what to do
He thinks we are stupid and don’t have a clue.
Take your restrictions your graphs and your tiers
You can’t control us all with your COVID-19 fears
It’s over now we have had enough
Shows us statistics we are calling your bluff.
We can’t be free with these measures In place
We are sick and tired of this nonsense give us some space
We can’t see our family other than Christmas?
We care, cause we see how you destroy our business.
If this is not an outreach of power the world has seen
Why do your worry about those who oppose the vaccine?
Election
Nervously woke early to witness a questionable distraction
Playing my nostalgia as I looked at two color graphs,
Songs I Themed an American Pessimist mix;
Dr. Hook with the freaks
American Pie lyrics
Hard-times with Tyler
American Idiot from Green Day
Helping me feel my roots and love
Decades of low turn-out to millions-in
Deviated numbers effected me but
The shear of the many
…. The beautiful.
Multitude of numbers,
Multiply, add, divide,
Minus, percentage, graphs,
Metres, centimetres,
More trigonometry,
Merge with geometry,
Magic of solving sums.
10.02.2020
For Joseph May's "Pleiades" poetry contest
Related Poems