Come join me in the religion of the well wishing fool
We meet once a month at the toe dipping pool
Where we reaffirm our mission to uphold the tradition
Of championing that reckless and rash, impetuous and crass
imperative of all human inanity. The keen assurety, whose
heights may only be scaled in proportion to the rarity
of their intellectual scarcity. We wholeheartedly cheer the pursuit
of the age old query of grasp and reach by those whose sole reward
seemingly is calamity. We stand here safe in our cloak of non participatory
scrupulosity and outrageously cheer the feckless audacity of those that advance the
sum total of human wisdom by dint of intellectual incapacity.
Excalibur
The sword was held aloft by the lady of the lake
She said only the mightiest of men shall wield its strength
Only those true of virtue
Only those planted firmly in their moral conviction
She called it Excalibur because she knew it could cause harm
The "Deep Cleft" it could leave gave it it's name
It was an instrument coined in hurt,
It was granted only to defend,
Yet it waged wars and leveled kingdoms.
Excalibur is a contradiction.
King Arthur should have been good.
Our man of virtue sent infants to sea to die;
He gave into his rage;
He lacked loyalty to his queen.
The lady of the Lake believed in him too much.
She thought that virtue would survive a mans power.
She believed he would hold his morals over manipulation.
The lady of the Lake should have kept Excalibur in her grasp.
Not even the mightiest of men can wield its power.
The inability to succumb to the nefariousness that comes with power;
The incapacity to choose your children over a war.
A woman should have wielded Excalibur.
There are many zones
the popular Twilight Zone
crossing the school zone
with all the basics
like writhing and reeling and
arrhythmias are fatal
for Western students
cluelessness, secrecy, and
incapacity
ignored globe grows dust
and the school's walls have blackboards
dartboards for target practice
the teachers alarmed
walled Glocks that toll assassins
the lambs are noisy
indoors and outdoors
the hung apple's score tallies
The Tree of Knowledge still grows
principal announced
school will close for funerals
the town folks will meet
and begs an answer
school razed for homeschooling
new breeds promise no more graves
twenty-twenty-five
parents, their kid's commencements
gymnasium armed
library screams sh!
nobody crossing zone signs
fronts empty cemetery
It's ok to be empathetic
Have grace for others
Respect others
Be compassionate to others
Forgive those who hurt you
Be kind no matter what
Love even when it's not reciprocal
Believe when there's no hope
Never exact revenge
Don't judge others
Help those in need
Perhaps this describe your way of living, don't change.
Living in this present moment of life from 3rd/4th dimension stand point
I've noticed many don't care if somebody respect, love, or help them
Their incapacity of feeling/receiving is due to much endured trauma
Some just refuse to ask for tools to work on healing
They rather obtain a hateful/revengeful state of mind.
weighing the total sum of existence
is not a skill which is given to us
lying well beyond realm of human minds
even those of prophets and wunderkinds
requiring eternal omnipotence
along with very dogged fixedness
on the tracking of every single change
within unending universe of strange
perhaps why all the gods are too busy
to notice devotees in a tizzy
over all who will not follow their rules
deride and treat them as self-righteous fools
certainly some will call this blasphemy
which should result in incapacity
removal of the right to live and breathe
to do any ungodly thing I please
while others may react slightly more gentle
needing to indoctrinate this fellow
fill me to the brim with scriptures and verse
before my condition becomes much worse
coming right back to the totality
that driving need to measure all which be
inevitably to count, sift and sort
that which their true religion should abort
keeping it all very crisp, neat and clean
creating an accounting-of-souls dream
I for one have no evil scheme or wish
within the sacrilegious pond to fish
fully content to not bother the gods
measuring of totality and odds
I am XXXXXXX
Caring, intelligent, creative, true friend
Sister of Dan and Bob, sister-in-law of Sharon, Helena, and Dorothy
Lover of good books, fine food, and family
Who feels fortunate, loved, in the right place at the right time
Who fears little except long illness, incapacity, being a burden
Who would like to see peace, harmony and unity in the world
Now resident of Omaha, Nebraska, formerly of Martha’s Vineyard
My last name is XXXXXXX
Superhuman in his incapacity
Invincible in his ignorance
Unsurpassed in his arrogance
Nonpareil in his stupidity
Superlative in his sleaziness
Ingenious in his idiocy
Indefatigable in his lying
Glorious in his greed
Imperial in his incompetence
Terrific in his tyranny
Incomparable in his corruption
When you are a widow
They look at you kinda strange,
Initially sympathetic
From any distance-range.
They often don’t come back
Unless you are real rich
Their presumptions carry on;
Assuming you're a witch.
Funny how they make you feel,
They once were warm and friendly,
But now they think you need support
Or a supplementary.
Always seemed to click with them
Though now a foreign language,
Making you feel miserable
And all and all just anguish.
Some need to know more and more;
Extracting information
You’re honest, they’re astonished
With ghastly devastation.
Vulnerable and muddled
From heart break tragedy,
They make you feel so awkward
With incapacity.
When you are a widow
They look at you kinda strange,
Tell them you’re a widow and
Watch how they all change…
Or
Maybe keep the ring on,
For a year or five or ten…
Never thought when vows were made-
I'd be thinking ‘when’...
Constrained by the sober exercise of judgment,
And dignified by deliberation and privacy.
I yanked my soul out of its secret chamber,
And held it to the mirror of my eye.
To see it like a star or moon against the sky,
But it dwindled to alarmingly small dimensions.
Fate had turned and twisted a thousand ways,
From the standpoint of expediency.
Fumbling and stumbling in helpless incapacity,
I'm greeted with an alloyed chagrin and gloom.
Then I heard a wordless voice,
In language terse yet familiar.
It wasn't a loose and otiose statement,
Unaccustomed tears threatened my seared vision,
I'm overshadowed by a fretful anxiety,
By this innocuous thought, I'm skulking beneath life.
But if I shine brighter in life,
Reexamine fate, destiny and my artistic aptitude,
If I fail, die and remain forgotten,
Study the agonies of my conscious failure,
And remember me with this poem.
Wondrous Sky, the Earth Shining.
Mental Incapacity, Light shines through.
Nervous intrigue. Forgetting Life for a bit of Lunch.
Dangerous forgetting sort.
Sand in the Castle
Forgetting a mentioned.
Prison on a system.
While flying away. Needing it.
Cannot suffice the pain, living like a chinese emperor.
Trying to overcome. The sharpness of speech.
Becoming like another singularity.
Physics becoming this sole.
I don't know this love so.
"Who wrote the poem?"
It was a pen and a paper that I have,
the envy and hatreds that I wear,
accompanied by my heartaches and stiches,
plus my incapacity of doing things right,
They wrote every single word and stanzas,
they weave each rhyme per line,
Like a sword they try to cut deep into the readers bone,
It is them,it isn't me who wrote each poem,
It was the beatiful sceneries who wrote poems of admirations,
the piteous scenarios who wrote poems of compassion,
the sufferings who wrote poems of sympathy,
it is what I see,It isn't me who wrote each poem,
It was the emotion I wear who wrote each poem,
it was what I see who draw each images within lines,
It was my incapacity who binds me with the writer of those poems,
But still,it's what I feel and what I see,It isn't me who wrote the poems.
With or without understanding words
Written on my pages that not my concern
After grating between two fingers
You may turn over from one to another
I am not in pain at all nor am I here
To tell you the meaning of meaning
I hold in-between two lines
Nor do I give you advices to re-open
Or to close the chapters, it is up to you
As I am not only for ideas arranged
In alphabetical order by the names
Of topics or authors and kept in libraries
I am more than those: a living symbol
Of your weakness in hearing, a sign
Of your forgetfulness: a burning example
Of incapacity of your memory and speech
Before misbehaving with me remember this.
There's something that you do to me
Your sensual capabilities
Your simple sense of ecstasy
Excites my silly fantasies
There's something deep inside of me
Words can't express the way I feel
Somehow your spirit sets me free
His name...
His name
..
Sounds so nice I said it twice
There's something in the way you smile
That satisfies my inner child
Dark-skinned divine
Oh how your presence blows my mind
Its in your walk, your talk the way that you are
Forgive me if I go too far
Or better yet just come with me
We'll paint the world with pretty scenes no eyes behold but insight sees
When colours gleam in bright daylight
Their warmth fulfills our souls at night
In verbal incapacity I may express with imagery
Just how it makes me feel inside
Your fingertips are far from me
Somehow you touch my inner-being
The grace of your embrace is no where near my space
Somehow you hold me in your arms
Your eyes ignite, I come alive, bodies collide..
And then they yearn
For one more time...
Every life has courage
Every life can see the light
Every life can see the truth
Every life is a priceless piece
Every day can be trailblazing
Everyday dialect has an exact mannerism
Every day has clues that suggest steadiness
Every day has prolific languages
Everything brought you here
Everything implies you still have a chance
Everything from the yesteryear breathes inside you
Everything is an avocation that you exist
Every second entails presumptions centered on phenomena’s
Every second of apprehension can encumber the last
Every second devours time
Every second gave you a venture to be here now
Every one of us desires permanency
Every one of us strains to attain
Every one of us has distinctions
Every one of us has a speech
Every one of us can generate a spark
Every Life
Every Day
Everything
Every Second
Everyone Of Us
Can Make a Difference
The feelings ineffable,
More due to the lack of clarity
Than to the intensity
The distinction very hazy,
infatuation or heavenly connection,
Nevertheless significant.
The tortuosity of life evident,
Also shine upon me the feeling of helplesness,
The inability to alter the course,
The incapacity to ascertain for myself.
Wuld have been better,
If I could recognize omens,
Sense the authencity of the connection,
And get atleast a measel of the whole meal.
Losing has never been a big deal,
But losing without even trying,
Making me an insomniac,
Making it difficult for me to live with myself.
Had life been so simpler,
Had I had the courage to take a bold step,
Would it be more satisfying?
Or would it get all the more worse?
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