Long Attend to Poems
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For words were my clays and in wisdom they were burnt
The Potter the mighty One his clays He tender to
smoothen that they be made into shapes
4:1 Hear, ye children, the instruction
of a father, and attend to know
understanding. 4:2 For I
give you good doc
Forsake ye not
my law.
4:3
The edifice of my mind made granites instructions
For I was my father's son, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. He taught me also, and said unto
me, Let thine heart retain my words:
keep my commandments,
and live Get
wisdom,
And the architect my foundation understanding mingled
calculation forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth. 4:6 Forsake her not, and she shall
preserve thee: love her, and she shall keep
thee. 4:7 Wisdom is the principal
thing; therefore get
wisdom:
and with all thy getting get understanding. 4:8 Exalt her, and she shall promote thee: she shall bring thee to honour
, when thou dost embrace her. 4:9 She shall give
to thine head an ornament of grace: a crown
of glory shall she deliver to thee. 4:10
Hear, O my son, and receive my
sayings; and the years of
thy life shall be many
4:11 I have taught
thee in the
way of
wisdom; I have led thee in right paths. 4:12 When thou goest, thy steps shall not be straitened; and when thou runnest
thou shalt not stumble. 4:13 Take fast hold of
instruction; let her not go: keep her; for she
is thy life. 4:14 Enter not into the path
of the wicked, and go not in the
way of evil men.
Foundations rocked on words wisdom, instructions, built my edifice a tall ivory building called shelter
I wake up and scurry. It’s hurry and hurry!
First and foremost – take a pee!
Cosmetics applying while minutes are flying.
Check emails and put on the tea.
Pack a lunch for the day that I’ll take on my way
out the door as I go to my car.
I must not leave late or I’ll agitate
my boss, but my job’s a bit far.
In class I am facing sweet students. Time’s racing.
So much to accomplish by noon.
Lunch time, I’m still going. I watch the clock, knowing
of more things I need to do soon.
Grades I’ll be doing with errands ensuing.
I race to my car and head out.
To the bank or the store; to the post office or
some other place with no doubt.
Have I time for the gym? Gotta keep myself trim.
But my chores are all waiting for me.
Some jobs get put off. You better not scoff.
I attend to my poetry!
The dinner needs cooking; at TV I’m looking
while slicing and dicing, for I
enjoy my tv shows. I’m NOT missing those -
I can “listen” as through tasks I fly.
My kitchen I clean well. Perhaps one more email?
With my hubbie I’m all cozy when
at last I am sleeping. Then daylight comes creeping.
I wake and start over again!
Sept. 8, 2020
for William Kekaula's All in a Day Poetry Contest
225 words by Wordcounter.net
50 Words for Poe: Epoché
A short stay in Hell is
often part of the journey
required to reach Home
Sometimes one finds
oneself recidivist
re-haunting the lava pit
It’s the forward and return
stay in Purgatory
that’s the real Trip
Terror Fell
(Room 10, Asylum)
He handed back the key
She closed the panel
Her Epoché
remained in his hands
although, of this he was keenly aware, she was sorely amiss
he could still taste the Rosemary over Thistle in her kiss
Of course,
She had Room 9 to attend to...
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/ob0CILJ93bA
Low/Poor Sucker
“It is impossible to achieve the aim without suffering”. John G. Bennett
https://youtu.be/hzFsDQeTUT4
Fripp/Exposure
1. Epoché
2. Suspended Judgement
3. Suspended Disbelief
4. Asylum
Lyrics/Low, Poor Sucker
https://genius.com/Low-poor-sucker-lyrics
Bound together by strings
that comprise matter
and antimatter, anything
that does, could, or ever would matter.
That's why everything pulls together
then blasts apart
over and over
until we even don't flinch anymore.
Universes that fold over and under
manifold wrinkling
and tiny vibrations, little earthquakes,
that explain
Everything.
There are hidden dimensions
all curled up
folded into common experience
so deeply buried we cannot attend to them.
Were we to think about them all the time
we might cease to do anything else.
I want to take up a violin
the bow hovering over the strings
and exact a deep series of pulls until the
screeching sounds like music,
the metaphor of choice for philosophers,
physicists, and questioners of cosmic experience.
If the vibrations sound glorious
maybe the experience will be remembered as
important, a lesson worth learning
instead of dissonance at a clumsy hand.
It is an elegant universe
with an explanation for everything --
Including why I miss you.
There's an echo there in that coyote's heart. With one eye brown and the other slate blue. Going deep down inside to that hurting place. Dealing with things should have been dealt with long ago.
But then some just won't let go of their hurt. They wear it like a wall or shield. Then some folks got their big burning shining light.
Where they can help anyone else stand up.
But when it comes to them, they forget about their open wounds. Tell themselves they have no time to attend to their hurts. Their wounds will heal by themselves, so they go on helping others. So how do some get to be so special and carry the light for others?
Well, I'll try to explain. It's like.....It's like.....when the moon and stars shine so bright. Like riding a unicorn through the moonlight. They have a fire inside them that's just so healing for others. Makes you want to stand right up next to them.
And that's all you need to know about them.
Some folks don't believe in the dream world. You know there's a whole world between this one and that one. It's the in-between world that some would stay in if they could.
I Was reading a book called The Onion Girl wrote 3/ 9 / 2015
After making the trip to Bar Harbor in Maine,
we set off on excursions within that domain.
In the midst of events, aggravating, arcane,
we began at a loss.
We embark on a most unpredictable task -
touring Cadillac Mountain with fog as a mask.
Fifteen hundred feet high and sh-shaking, we ask
with alarm, "Where's the bus?"
Safely back at sea level, we all need to chill -
"Tell me, who put the rest stop on top of a hill?"
Giving vent to our steam, we release it with skill
by creating a fuss.
So we cuss as we scurry, we snort and stampede
up the fifty-two steps to attend to our need.
On the zig-zag descent, rather tetchy, still teed,
we by chance run across
a botanical gem - symbiotic, we learn.
A bizarre kind of growth, some avoid with concern.
Is it algae? or lichen? a fungus? or fern?
a true whatzit for us.
I see fanciful lace mid inherent decay;
I see whimsical bubbles entangled in play.
I see change as our mood now reverses dismay -
it's an insight from moss.
**************
anapestic tetrameter
Every fourth line I change to dimeter to counteract the monotony.
Reason A. Poteet
http://wiseacre-gardens.com/moss/white-cushion-moss.jpg
No dear
Make the date for the tea
Friday at three
For the moon will be
At the windows
At the wee hours
And it will be the full moons
We will pick up as much as we choose
With the scarlet spoon
Monday the sun is hot
No room to look at the blooms
Right and left a lot of the knots
No freedom to consume
The aroma of the kettle and teapot
And ample warmth
Fruitless will be the perfume
So hungrily sought
Make it on Friday, dear
I will have the bouquet
Wet with the dew
Under the shade of the brown cashew
Waiting Haikus
Under the moons
The globes of love
We will bring it down from above
Blend it with the doors to the stories
Of the blue breeze and white cheese
This Friday way
We two
The unbuttoned blue
Tuesdays we stay too much buttoned
Questioning and questioned
The ears of rice and wheat flattened
All the almonds dampened
No point to meet
With all the oceans discreet
Nice will be the bay
No bridle on Friday
We will make the crochet
As the full moons sway
Opening the dizzy doorway
To the interplay
Into the next day too
The lovely lingering blue
No other work to attend to
No socks no shoe
All brakes broken
In the Garden of Eden
Both Wednesday and Thursday
Too much to pay and repay
So busy with our purse
It is a rank commerce
No eyes to see the dove
Let alone the circle of love
That will shine far above
Beyond our reach
Far off from the beach
No stories to stitch together
Just the toxic work
The shoulder into the jerk
No time
My pen and your rhyme
Won’t chime
The Friday will come and open
The gates of the jasmine garden
No concern for the absolute tick tock
In the mirror the exposed peacock
Fulfillment of the golden wildfire
The hillocks loving the playing lyre
The next day is a holiday too
Followed by the Sunday hue
Here is a time of planting the tree
In the festival of the artery
On the happy Friday in the jasmine garden
The day of moons and green lemons
No full-stop
Just comma and colon
For the hundreds of flying herons
With the pink crayon
______________________________________
February 26, 2018
Friday feeling - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Where tender shoots each day birth new mercies,
cultured in your word, my young spirit grows.
From sun up, to down, your Spirit rises,
I find myself humbled by your incense.
I heed not to tread on the serpent's path,
for the weathered road is rarely righteous.
Though deep pits and snares lie in wait for me,
Salvation's call guides me not to stumble.
In arduous times, you bring me a friend,
someone to share life's treasures and beauty.
My heart is overcome with joy for God,
for he has blessed me in my downcast state.
Aged I am, but ever new by his grace,
I attend to my own kin, my own flock.
In turn, God shines favour on my own kin,
and they too, go have kindred of their own.
For as I have not strayed from you, Lord God,
they too, have not departed from your ways.
These years I have sought your face, ran the race.
Now, hold me in your arms, and take me home.
03.09.2024
Suddenly, I find myself in a strange surrounding.
What I’m seeing defies an accurate describing.
I see faces of my relatives I used to know.
However, they have all passed on many years ago.
Some of them I know only from pictures I have seen.
I know this isn’t possible; it’s such a strange scene.
They’re seated at a table saying “Hello” to me.
Why am I here? I know this can’t be reality!
Is Rod Serling somewhere near in this vicinity?
My great-grandfather sits at the head of the table.
Asking me, “Are you hearing me son; are you able?
I’m pleased to let you know you will be joining us soon.
We will be calling for you soon after the full moon.
Don’t worry son, I understand that you have some fear.
We all love you, and we know that you will like it here.
Make the most of your time while you are still on the earth.
You have possessed the potential ever since your birth.
Love your family, and attend to their every need.
They will return their love, and this advice you will heed”.
You will return to earth and do this. Have we agreed?”
This was just too much for me as I fell out of bed.
I wound up on the floor, and got up shaking my head.
I thought, “That certainly showed to be an oddity!
I’m not sure if that was a dream or reality!”
Robert Pettit
Women has long evolved
From being in the kitchen
Barefoot and pregnant and
Catering to everyone else’s
Needs except her on
Women wants more from life
Then, just giving birth and
Being a housewife and parent
When majority of the time
They’re the ones raising the kids plus
Most, work outside the home
Come home help with homework, cooking
Cleaning, washing clothes and
Also having to attend to their
Husbands are boyfriend’s constant needs
Some are physically and mentally abused
Like she doesn’t have enough
On her plate already, to some
It’s like being in prison, when
Does her duties end, when she goes
To bed but now most women
Woke-up and has finally had enough
They’re taking control of their own lives
Getting good high paying jobs
And also making better decisions