Homogeneous Poems

Psychology of Life?

Psychology or Life?

Life is life. Life gives lives.
Psychology? Homogeneous

Sharing their modern lives
Death says, all death of life

Homogeneous

I wonder where, oh boulders and sand,
Your spirit or heart truly stands.
To you, of Stone with worn heart in your chest
Surly you were once like the rest. 
Once A boulder perfect and formed,
From the day you fell from mountain top, born.
Down the slope you came and lay,
To rest near a peaceful lake one day. 
And there you stood from boulder to stone,
A little smaller in your new home.
You peacefully lie until one day you find,
The rain had swept you toward the tide. 
Rubble and tumble you find yourself, Stone
Bottom of the bank, and all alone.
Once a boulder, now grind down, 
Washed back to the sandy beaches around.
On a mountain top once you stood,
Stone now turned to sand did the best he could.  
But grain so small, hold your head high,
Within your chest your heart always lies.

It's Spelled Spelt, Split and Wholesome

We wanted to break bread
that was pure, clean, pristine, 
stark white and wholesome,
with a crisp, but soft, 
light brown crust.

The field was prepared with
thrice washed and cleaned machinery,
and spread with N, P,  K fertilizer
applied overhead.

The soils was filtered to remove
all weeds, sticks and stones,
stubble and rubble,
so it was homogeneous,
with a uniform grain size,

The wheat seed was a proven, 
ancient old world genotype,
with its genome still intact.

The seed was milled to remove
all traces of wheat germ and bran,
then twice bleached to stark white.

The dough was leavened with soda
and baked well-timed, 
in a clean fan-draft oven,
at just the right temperature,
for just the right time.

Behold! There we have it!
Our pure white bread,
wholesome and perfect,
in every way, that we break
for breakfast at break of day.

Coherent Whole

You've read it correctly,
 that's what the directions said directly
but
it's not some innate random homogeneous gift 
 that encourages and displays these internal poetic rifts,

we are somehow blessed, 
 betrayed, besieged, bestowed, beleaguered and bemoaned
 by words, phrases, unmatched rhymed teasers enthroned
upon some grandiose display of mismatched garble
 a picture, an image, a brain's ensemble, quite remarkable,

the integral, seamless agreed-upon selection
 of who or what could be prisoner to our dissection, 
there within the confines of heart, body, and mind
 lay hidden pseudo images soft, hard, vile, and kind, 

therein those coherent enigmatic systemic wholes
 buried, shaped, unseen, rhythmic whispers of our souls,
the center of our individual, molded, subservient whole.

The Lark

 An eclectic ,miscellaneous daybreak .
            like chimera  overflows.    
   We always gaze at a suffocating ,thorny
    lark.
  The undaunted , unfearing lark frequently
  embraces a vexatious butterfly.\
 In the realm of anguished, harsh words
  the transient, wild dusk thrives like
 a rambling rose.
A daring dawn never escapes from
a shattered ,  stormy sea.
The homogeneous , ashen chains
  of the moon echo the valor of a lionhearted
     meadow.
 The resolute, soundless sun festooned
with a dreamlike love.
The tapestry of truth yells out
    like a , cheerful rainbow.
 The flaming ,starry hope never yields like
          an oracular delight
The tyrannical tears like the ultimate hues 
of the universe stem  the hidden verity.

Bittersweet For Sourpuss

Remember when each of the tastes
bitter, sweet, sour, salty and umani,
had their own special place on your tongue?
When you could lick and flick a tongue tip
to savor one by one, 
each titillating and tantalizing tidbit,
and avoid the bitter, sour and salty, 
in the hors d'oeuvre samples and starters?
But turns out all the taste buds
of different types are a mishmash,
spread all over the palette
like mixed berry jam jelly on toast.
So blitz the blender, 
pulse, pulse, pulse the mush to liquefy,
to make your next bender meld, 
to an homogeneous amorphous blend,
a potpourri punch 
fit for a sourpuss.

Random Answers

Anna and I were sitting on an outdoor bench. To get some fresh air, our classes are virtual this week and we were feeling claustrophobic. I was working on a poem idea on my iPad and Anna was uploading an assignment from her laptop.

The bench is by a walkway and there were a few people passing by. I asked Anna, “What’s an alternative word for paralysis?” And three rando students walking by answer my question, in less time than Anna can even look up from her Mac.

“Tetraplegia,” says a girl on the far side of the walk - who passed us right to left - her friends laughed at her for answering my question. “Palsy,” says a guy who was passing the other way, on our side - he didn’t even look up from his phone. And last, a guy behind the girls says, “standstill.”

I just look up and smile - I love this place. Everyone’s friendly and collaborative. There’s an almost homogeneous curiosity about the world.

“Maybe I should create a sidewalk, crossword-puzzling channel on Twitch?” I ask Anna, who just shook her head, “No.”

Homogeny

Homogeny
Our situations may be different--
farms, cities, alone, many
Our opinions may vary too--
content, despair, passivity, fear
But has humanity ever been so homogeneous in its actions?
Have we ever before all been doing the exact same thing?
Has every human ever been so united in purpose?
--No
It is an unprecedented alignment of activity.
We have never all been working towards a common goal.
We have never all been doing fundamentally the same thing.
It is a never-known rush when you realize everyone posting anything
online is in the exact same boat as you,
And the boat is our small Planet Earth,
Headed to an unknown destination;
But her crew has never before been so united.
In the midst of a storm, the body is at rest.

I Don'T Know

Indefinite infinite confused calm why I'm rambling on cathartic release from a rebellious thorn bloom bloom says he I don't know feelings spinning sprinkling doubt what shall I write about lyric loneliness hysterical hymn I don't know whimsical whining silver lining they said the grass is greener it's still brown mystical mutant erroneous erogenous homogeneous horrors twilight terror inner voice indicative error mother always said trust your gut feeling but never gave me that choice smorgasbord sorghum location location location I know who I am but still I don't know.

Untitled Machine

The process in a hive
surgical snippets of allopathic
functioning and standardized
the unequal rhetoric 
of a stolen paradise

Reaction homogeneous undiversified
to clacking gear
of working mechanized
the robotic motor
for economic lives

Buy the used up trash can of civilized 

Such are the things of love in their passing
waste recycling 
no longer applicable
the useless detritus
the human industrialized 

The process in a hive

Sweet fortuitous profit
for living in life only to survive
the laws of credit
the hum drum mechanic
steadfastly brutalized

Cut, swipe the cure-all chemical
the ready cash
with its easy voodoo
its empty idols
strangle to a last breath the spiritual

Flip through the catalog of the hive

Its children become weaponized
uniformed internment
scrutinies institution
of all their varied lives
a scrape of paper tossed upon
the economies expendable garbage pile

City

Denounced in the sunlight
the collective glass glitter cold unrepentant
only the homeless meander divest
only gutter and litter offer solace
on the graffiti spent a park bench
there is no other place to rest

Between tiles and floors and abandoned doors
implacable confrontation with welcome arms
only the comfort of training shoes
only a collective impersonal 
ignores the stench of traffic fumes
and still the children breath it in

Amidst the festoon in colour glorious of plenty
begs the transient hand of a last short lived
a little compassion pleaded on the pavement
hunger scratched at piteous attempt
and belittled beneath the scorn
hidden behind a sunglass reflection

Interminable parties illusion of community
compressed and stacked in repetition
every fashionable uniform of diversity
marches the streets pacing homogeneous
stare blank  
a multitude of nothing else to think about

Edifice scraped and scratched through soul 
no more purpose other than the skin deep
surrogate submission of life
the paltry excuse of cement
around its entrapment weaves
the delusions of social conformities

Theocracy

The head, a divine messenger for human leadership
Holy scriptures with direct instructions stay as the constitution
Eradication of mixed opinions to keep the sheep completely homogeneous
Official orientation of any kind is void of different beliefs
Creed established and adhered to irrespective of the human right stand
Religion, the command, staff, seal and national identity
Administration under the lordship of some proclaimed unseen forces
Creating a political system tantamount to totalitarianism
Yielding to semi-molded exposure or even close mindedness of its citizens.

Man In Creation

In the numinous nebulous clustering clouds
The sacred soul of man in creation
Within the homogeneous hemispheres of consciousness
A sapient spark in consummation

Thrown thru subatomic space and temporal time
Inhabiting the jewels of the Heavenly sphere
The jaded journey of man in its molding
Binary building blocks within the Earths premiere

Plasmatic parallel universes unfolding euphorically
As the molecular matter tranquilly transforms
And the Angelic realms wondrously watching
For the cosmic climaxing Super storms

We enter the Central Sun of Christ Consciousness
Mans DNA abundantly absorbs His thrusting light
Behold a New Angelic Man mysteriously manifests
As the Ancient Ancestral Ones await and reunite.


(March.17.2016)   Second Place Only II - Poetry Contest
By Laura Loo
July.07.2016

Three Abstract Steps To Happiness

reset at zero
all things homogeneous
return and be one

Chrosomes of Creeds

Pancholi Nandlal Kanjibhai's   Home     Feedback & Suggestions

Poems By Pancholi Nandlal Kanjibhai


Category Date 
Imagination 14-01-07 
Email 
ayurcure@yahoo.com 





Chromosomes of creeds having been replete with
Seeds of retardation in turn breed more and
More mongoloids of ethnic obsessions, hence
Engineers of genetics may ponder over removal
Of pathogenic germs and the defective sperms
From the colloid of contemporaneity.

And after that an era of equanimity would dawn
Where science would have been made to dominate
Politics, eugenics meant to succeed restricted
Homogeneous breed, color hatred and racial
Discrimination dismissed as obsolete relics of
Primitive past, polygamy officially replacing
Monogamy, world government superseding
Neurotic nation states and the whole world
Becoming a family in this would be world
Nuclear arsenals will become irrelevant

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