After the paint
has dried
all they're left with
are false pictures
Internal fixtures
externalized
masquerading
as truth
The truth is
their mask hides
the lies but exposes
what's true regardless
They're artist of
a different kind
Kind words for those
conning their way
with heartless acts
Me?
I rhyme with facts
not looking to sway
you or any other
I pour from a cup
that runneth over
& spill only what
I intend to tithe
When my cascade
aligns and falls
there's no running
for cover nor packs
in which to hide
What befalls you
is as liquid as the paint
used to tar & feather
I'm transparently lucid
whether you're far
or near sighted
I could never
feel slighted by
eyes in dire need
of glasses
I inspire you
to see without eyes
to counteract it
Those cataracts
insofar as I can see
has blinded them
with fake glee
Slowly but surely
they're starting to see
what it is & isn't
cracked up to be
Spacemeat. The light cone enfolds the individual effectually creating a ghost through geometric topology. The negative of the person, the "ghost" is a result of the lensing of the original person's light cone interacting with a tertiary lightcone that predicates it's future on the subsequent intermingling of the light cones. The result is essentially apodictic insofar as the consequential nature of the topological result is the determinant by which the conclusion from the incipient portion of the status aforementioned is solidified. Spacemeat.
“The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.” ~ Blaise Pascal
How does your decision process work,
extracting clarity and a course of action from the murk?
I'm sure that, for you, it works out fine,
insofar as your methodology is different from mine.
I begin by pondering my choices,
but find inside my head there are two voices.
I scratch my head, and begin to reflect,
asking myself which is most morally correct.
When all is said and done,
which hurts others least, and which is best for number one?
What is the reward? What risk would be incurred?
What is the probability of the result that is preferred?
I make a list of cons and pros,
and assign weights to each of those,
and after hours, days, and weeks of pondering,
I'm still at a loss to solve my "quandering".
Then, I instantly do what I knew I'd do all along,
and find that my decision was all wrong.
Of which country, sunset-lit
Eventide, out west
All that is native to it
Moveless, soundless are.
Age'd, withered, like unto
These folk, parkland benched?
"Insofar as shows we two
For tawny frogmouth
Perched a dead branch, camouflaged!
With grump's stare, afar".
Done with; discarded by Time;
Beyond city walls.
As one nameless grave beneath.
Where a great hush falls.
Insofar belongs only
The world to the young!
To the extent none search for!
Some backwood among.
Though to think of thee
Like a heaven is to me,
Not to, no less seems.
In heart though there’s room
For you, there’s room it so seems
For new buds to bloom.
My soul is in pain
And till in pain should remain,
Not to meet fair seems
Till I’m back t’be me,
Till heart again bleeds for thee,
Till from pain I’m free.
______________________
Senryu (Tongue-in-cheek) | 02.01.2026 | heaven, heart, love, pain, soul
Note: Gen Zee, it so seems, are very forthright insofar as love is concerned.
George Galloway, does his re-search is
Passionate..I beleive 'for open fair debate''
I see some things he articulates that i do not agree with..Yet how can faults be corrected? With closed minds.' Closed narratives.? Insofar as his willingness to
Engage with real events.' And to admit if he
Realises he has reported an error.' I find no
Fault there..So I hope you who read my posts.' And I am sure there are some.' Might go to ( you-tube) and see what you
Gather.? I post this to be of service to free
Speech, even though it be the very least..I
Hope? its a counter..To the (false prophet and beast')
What if man’s made to run a race with deer,
Or with Chita a sprint he were to face,
That, man’s no match appears mighty clear,
Beasts would beat with half of their highest pace.
Take any seal, a whale, or a dolphin,
And let an Olympic swimmer compete,
E’en one with gold medal can’t hope to win,
What ants can lift, none ever can defeat,
A tiny frog can beat them in long jump,
And ducks can dive deeper for longer time,
Even insects boast of an ace of trump,
And yet, man preens up with a plume so prime.
The best of beasts whilst least bother to boast,
Men wish, they all raise him a rightful toast.
____________________________________
Sonnet |20.08.2024| men, games, fantasy
Poet’s note: Suppose an Olympic is held between human and animal world, say an Animalympic. In most events animal world would beat humans hollow. Man may be at the crest in evolution insofar as intelligence is concerned. One doubts if he has wisdom enough to best use his abilities.
A smile painted on, hair removed from my chin.
Another day of pretence about to begin.
False interest in the latest fashions and trends.
Fabrication of engagement to allow ends to meet ends.
Each contrived interaction wished quickly away.
Although nobody realises, as I act through my day.
Conversations conducted with unwitting stealth.
Insofar as I struggle to distinguish 'me' from myself.
An identity distorted a strain on my morals.
Struggling to navigate life's insignificant quarrels.
Dismissive remarks, I've had a day and a life full.
As insults fire from your tongue like a bolt-action rifle.
Diffused with humour and previously learned guidance.
The gap between who I was and who I am significantly widens.
The question 'who am I?' continues to stop and then start.
It can only be answered with 'what stories am I a part?'.
Like a chameleon meandering, transient through the day.
Depending on the act, and the part that I play.
The Portage
There is this distance between the lakes,
Through which the waters race.
Such is the land elevation difference,
Too treacherous for a canoeist to paddle,
And so must traverse by foot.
The higher perched lake continuously flows,
And the lower one never empties.
In response to nature’s chance,
The lakes maintain their levels.
Insofar as the climate will change,
The river’s course remains the same:
To reach the ocean and repeat the cycle
Of evaporation and precipitation.
Words Help Heal, Or Hurt
Written: by Miracle Man
3/4/2020
Communication is a two way street,
it requires both talking and listening.
Meshing the two can sometimes be a feat,
when one party insists on whispering.
Some tickle my ears saying things untrue,
uttering words, they think, I’d like to hear.
Communicating words I misconstrue,
uttered words linger, they don't disappear.
“Many people today don’t want honest answers
insofar as honest means unpleasant or disturbing.
They want a soft answer that turneth away anxiety.”
Louis Kronenberger
Perennial, happiness stream flows,
Stagnant seem puddles of sorrows,
In river as are rocks
Stuck at midstream what mocks,
We know what sinks, what farther goes.
________________________________
Reflections | 02.11.2005 |
Poet's note: This may be called a limerick insofar as its construction goes, but not in mood.
Takes it a powerful, almighty congerie of the
Most toilsome and rigorous lucubration,
To write these, my poems...my poetries.
Or, insofar as declaring, do I
Attempt thus to prevaricate?
Is my literary legerdemain
And poetic prestidigitation and prognostication such that it
Requires little duty, less laboriousness, and a
Far lesser sort of toilsomeness to compose this,
My poetry?
This be the forty-fourth poetic work by my hand enwritten
In this hebdomadal period-
This week, in short.
Yes, in something lesser than a hebdomadal span, even
Did I complete, thus far,
This three-notebooked writing.
Quotidian was this writing and diurnal,
And hodiernally I can write little of the quondam poems:
Written in such a fervorous, blazing, blurring manner,
That I scarce am sure I canst rightly recall the composition of a solitary one.
People say we
seem compatible mates,
that’s moronic !...
she HATES DOGS !!
which
is pretty ironic
being she’s such a
constant bitcher,
and that label,
that descriptor,
insofar as it is able,
shows how a
lack of compatibility,
however hard it might be,
is fair for her.
Au contraire
the canine,
whose character
I would define
and describe
as being
“Loyalty personified”
I prefer.
You see,
DOGS CARE,
life enriching
presences.
So I won’t be
hitching up with her.
She thinks that
stroking her back
and doggystyle
I find delightful,
but that’s
so uninsightful.
She’ll be
catatonic
knowing that
real love for me is
dog platonic
Being and becoming are creations
Of indispensable creative imaginations
No being is, yet as it is perceived
Needing to be seen to be retrieved
Infinite as nothing, fixed as numbers
Eternal insofar as one remembers
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