Long Accumulating Poems
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Education has never deluded me,
it is a rich mine from which my gemstones are extracted;
and all of them can adorn with its brilliance
a king's crown, but the glitter on my silver pendant...
with my natal sign, not with my image, outshines it
and displays it very elegantly.
As skilled hands relied on mental deftness,
I depended on mom's provincial practicality,
not on chances, but on her canonical guidance;
her words told no canards, only truthfulness:
an illunination of beatitude to encourage and fortify...
and that voice taught me acts of benevolence.
Guessing what was the mysterious name it bore,
would have been quite easy to identify with sharp eyes:
examining the deeds I did and the actions I still compromise,
to conclude with certainty
that it fitted me so perfectly...
I learned that art by listening to clever people with more ardor.
This is not a gift which is instilled
in the infant's brain at birth,
it is acquired by growing somewhat old...
who could have such a prodigious knowledge?
The Old Testament prophets for instance, or possibly
every learned man who studied philosophy.
Spend time with me, and observe how I peruse:
listen to the clear and incisive words spoken aloud,
riddling no mystery, or being derogatory...
proverbs might be included to give some clues;
and they were written in an inimitable way
to stimulate the minds of the unlearned.
Is intelligence inborn or learned by chance,
or even isometric to astuteness?
Many admit it stems from accruing knowledge,
to increase the capacity of the thinker or genius...
accumulating their ideas and earning praises,
while the uneducated struggle with rage.
Logical astutness is efficacious when it invigorates ability,
and exhorts a great deal of mental energy;
and will the proper words be used to that effect?
Happy New Year to all the wonderful Poetry Soup members!
Copyright 210 by Andrew Crisci
Quantities of time feel nothing.
Calculating, accumulating and subtracting,
days and weeks,
months and years and decades
roll past our eyes and ears
our growing and shrinking stomachs
to leave their strong and weak-grooved rings
of satiation and emaciation
I only feel and remember qualities of EarthTime
co-arising passions and co-gravitating pleasures
or dissonant dispassionate and painful reactions
of fear about time's future survivable qualities
anger about oppressive time's past conflicts
burning hot bright volcano hatreds
adrenaline flowing flashes
uncontrollable as suppressed bliss
only completely invested, immersed,
passionately engaged within a resiliently timeless
moment of deeply resonant quality
too seldom aware of Earth's intelligent co-present
co-passionate
co-binary sacred/organic fertility
of divinely humane grace
eternally synergetic dancing
through rationally measured quantities
of merely mortal metric times.
Sacred qualities of time's regenerate evolutions
long to feel everything belonging once again together,
beyond a foggy lapse of co-empathic solidarity
ReLigiously re-membering our golden era
co-relational peaceful qualities
richly feeding on Earth's matriarchal placentas
when all felt now-ly timeless
and originally right
feeling healthy
nurturing trusted truths
of loving kindness
feeling qualitatively good
and warm-full beauty filled.
Perhaps here lies our deeper measure
of time's healthiest meaning-full quality,
economically cooperative
and politically synergetic
and ecologically co-relational
EarthMother organically breeding
and sacredly feeding ecotherapy
Deep dancing
while surface surfing
through this timeless now
of polypathic potential win/win consciousness
Qualitative feelings positive through negative
emerging from and for and through and in and on and over each now
submerging into past speciating
branching co-passion's pleasure impressed re-memories
and dispassion's painful suppressed memories
Trees of old strong-rooted felt re-ligion
qualitatively comparing
contrasting
our original embryonic nurturing qualities
for richer eco-political sacred health
and less EarthMother dis-organic pathology
through this eternally regenerating now
quality of TaoTime's feeling peace-full
pronoia
win/win ego/eco-conscious co-passion.
We came from
modernity for
teach beings
underdeveloped,
we found that
totally unhappy
are these retards
aliens
race scum
human... these
that segregated in
colonies where everything
happens equal to
the ancient days...
live impure,
dirty,
accumulating garbage...
live persecuted
by bacteria,
infected by
promiscuous contacts:
touches,
hugs,
kisses and
mating...
Practices since
long time banned
in modernity...
these practices
are animal
atavistic fruit
addictions...
copulation and
dual enjoyment...
we all realize
that the enjoyment is
individual...
each one has
his share of pleasure...
these addictions
prehistorics.
are so filthy
how to eat the
in opened air,..
or how they mix
Ingredients:
carbohydrates,
starches,
fats...
poor things!
unhappy that
survive
in thoughts
Out of reality of
Modern...
poor creatures
who still dare
practice love
with body
present...!
A season – Ages ago
Ages ago, many a seed had been planted.
Their blossoming brings, being taken for granted,
never seen, acknowledged or appreciated.
As gardeners, sowers of, we are fated
to pay an intolerable, unbearable price
for all, all we experience that is not nice
for a parent to see, to feel, believe to be,
that has come to be a part of you and me.
------------------------------------
I – like the south pole of, a magnet pushes - away ?
I – like a distant planet without gravity – ejects ?
Is it that I repel ?, instead of attract.
Is reality ?, for me, anything beyond abstract
and truly above contact ?, - such a pity
to get down and dirty, get to the nitty-gritty.
------------------------------------
A beam of energy, a wave of light, a speck of dust
in the vacuum cleaner bag of space, brought to light
within the vast womb of our universe, have I been.
My life’s impression being, being that speck of dust,
which, speck, upon speck, upon speck, upon speck
of dust gathers, accumulating upon my soul.
Dust to dust, atom to atom, gas to gas, a planet to create
until all is to heavy, I no longer am able to carry the weight.
The weight become so unbearable, these shoulders
begin to droop, drop off – back to dust, to atom, to energy,
to that vacuum cleaner bag, to the universes womb, there ,
once again to start it all over, back on the merry-go-round.
Maybe ?, a lighter load ?, a brighter road ?,
a much better story that could be told ?
What will carry us to the next time ?
What path will we walk next time ?
What journeys will be ours next time ?
Maybe ?, when it becomes next time,
and we gather, are carried into ?,
I might impart something of value,
a new start to help carry them through,
after they have been dropped off
- blown away by the winds of times passing –
to create their own planets, live their own lives,
their own experiences without influencing
the gardener with a world of negative forces,
what has seemed a lifetime of negative energy.
B. J. “A” 2
January 19th 2003
I was born in a banana republic,
Between the carnivorous chains of Françafrique,
In an open-air dumpster,
Where tyranny, barbarity, and savagery speak with arrogance.
I am perfumed with all the nauseating scents of misery.
I grew up under the honeyed speeches of necktied oppressors,
Their swollen pockets vomiting development aid.
They painted the walls of despair UN blue,
While our starving bellies served as ballot boxes.
My tongue is a battlefield
It was cut, stitched back, trained to sing the masters’ symphonies.
I speak French like a trauma articulated,
With the pain of my color since the first slave trades.
My struggle, a reminder of the invasion, an inheritance of batons from the Caribbean plantations.
I saw dictators blessed by chancelleries,
Oil traded for diplomatic silence,
Mines bled dry by hands gloved in elegance,
And mass graves hidden beneath bilateral agreements.
I am what they call human resource,
Exportable, exploitable, erasable at will.
I was born where dignity is sold by the kilo,
And where the future fits in a punctured boat at dawn on the Mediterranean.
I was born where the future fits in a punctured boat at dawn on the Mediterranean.
Where a passport is a burden, not a key.
Where one sells their skin to organ merchants
To buy a pixelated mirage of Europe.
I saw my mother weep silently over deportation slips,
My father break his back in open-pit mines of the cradle of humanity,
I learned to read in the pamphlets of the defiant,
To count on my fingers the promises unkept.
School, a factory of stillborn dreams.
Healthcare, a market where cancer is sold in tainted doses.
Justice, a rumor, an insult whispered
Between two power cuts and three police blunders.
I am the child of fake independences,
Of tailor-made constitutions stitched for insatiable gluttons.
I was born without inheritance, save for
This rage accumulating like sand under the skin.
They called me delinquent, migrant, underdeveloped,
But I am the living archive of their beautified crimes.
I am the raw product of their refined markets,
The shattered mirror they flee, for fear of seeing their own barbarity within.
I have ranted before and will rant again,
About the healthcare in this country
I have seen more than mistakes, but outright neglect
I have seen things ignored, overlooked, until it is a crisis
I have seen lives put at risk and patients left unheard
Then, I have seen the accumulating high costs
That can change everything for people
As companies and doctors make their money
When some things aren’t even solved and people suffer
It is only acceptable for those without a conscience
It cannot go on like this, as the system is too complex
Controlling the weak who are in need of help
It is time for a change, it is time to save lives
Heidi Sands
5/3/18
*Entry for A Rant contest. Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
The wind speaks to us in whispers or roars-
accumulating unbalanced scores!
_ by Poet
Listen to the wind, as it speaks to us-
in a tiny whisper or an explosive rush.
Grasp what it foretells as it swishes by.
The wind's calm or violent moods can ease or crush.
A whispered breeze can cool the summer heat,
caressing us in a soothing, uplifting way,
as we find joy in its relaxing touch
beneath the sun's blaze on a hot and humid day.
Conversely, though, the wind can take a turn
to power local storms or those formed out at sea;
howling and churning- pushing giant waves
and signaling the tragic scene we can foresee.
We hear wind growling when it reaches land.
As a hurricane, it speaks fear along the path.
Trees, structures, and life- tumble by its force,
while the angry wind howls, vocalizing its wrath.
A force, gifting pleasure or horrid pain
from a kind whisper, stormy day, or hurricane!
Listen to the wind, as it speaks to us.
Brand new Rolex watch!
A gift from her best friend
One day it just stops working
so she has to take it in
Watchmaker says, "Not worth it,
the flat Cyclops proves it's fake"
This news is so upsetting
She cries out, "For goodness' sake!"
Fighting first-date jitters
her boyfriend reads a poem
Adds, "You inspire me to write,"
Assures, "I wrote it on my own"
When she shares the poem with friends
several laugh, "You didn't know?"
"It's AI-generated!"
She screams, "AI AI No!"
When her boyfriend pops the question
she quickly answers, "Yes!"
Large diamond ring, so pretty
She is very much impressed
As she takes it for appraisal
she presents the ring with glee
When she asks about the 4Cs
Jeweler simply says, "CZ"
She wonders why in life
she can never catch a break
A Rolex watch, a lover's poem,
a diamond ring, all fake ...
Focusing on thoughts more mindful
reminds her of what real life means
Helping people is more important
than accumulating things
69th Birthday
March 10
Birthday is when you celebrate
Your birth on the planet Earth
Accumulating memories and wisdom
Through six decades
Wishing you a day filled with
Bunches of joy and happiness
You are not getting older
Interesting is the word that describes you
Stakes Root Deeper
When the stakes
are life on Earth,
all else is a diversion.
Susan Murphy Roshi
Here we have co-invested stakes
nondualing claims
of sacred and secular health causes,
and disinvested destroying diversions,
perversions,
distortions,
dismay,
retributions.
Susan Murphy is a Zen teacher,
so diversions from shared stakes
are Empty LeftBrain Egos,
like sound
and sight
and feeling
of one hand clapping,
slapping away life's co-investing stakes,
invitations,
resources for gratitude,
positive health attitude.
Interdependent stakes,
claims of concelebrating life as healthy
over ego-supremacist death as pathological,
are RightBrain intuited
Personal Knowledge,
eisegetical sacred feelings
that each Ego extends
our other hand of EcoEarthOther clapping
in co-arising nondual return.
Both hemispheres,
each sweeping
slapping
clapping
back and forth,
emptiness and interdependence,
YangStrength and YinFlow,
FatherSun and SacredEarth's HolySpirit,
Now, in this critical transition time
in-between Eden's restoring ecotherapies
and FallenEden's re-attributing ego-traumas
Ego pride of accumulating and hoarding investments
in this personal life
does to family and community health
what AnthroPride of disinvestment
away from Earth's divine ecological nature
does to homosapiens
and all sacred DNA-enscribed cousins,
And to our RNA fractally resonant holonic stakes
for eating,
refueling,
absorbing,
restoring rhythms and seasonal light-dark patterns,
Including sounds of two bicameral hands
concelebrating sacred life
on
and within
and flying
and spinning restore-destroy spirals
above
and beyond
SacredEarth.