Long Compulsively Poems
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I am a champion,
the thought and feel of it is real,the fact being indisputable and the reality pure,
with others,and in singular isolation victory over the misery of disrections is now,and future,
I am a champion because I have led myself and others to victories,
victories over the malvolent and lurid labors,
living,toiling,dreaming,and breathing within the parameters of a system foriegn
to my instincts, alien to this suture,
I am a champion along with others because I weep incredulity
at the untaught magnitude of a work ethic producing abject glories,
brought to my knees,my heart beats rife with pain,fear, & the mud of doubt,
brought to lunacy by the dispassion that consequence savors,
rising, and rising as emotions explode at the chance and moment for domination,
justification, to obliterate the obstacles,making room for stories,
awaking with dry pain in the eyes,nausea,dizziness,despair,
seeking simple reasons for motivation to go forth,
wishing quixotically for more sleep,
finishing the day feeling dumb,dull and brazen like a fenced horse
hungry for edification,rectification,seeing the great steppe with a risk too deep,
going on week after week with new sprains & strains on mind body & spirit,
always some mistake, cuts, bruises, burns & hyperextensions,
compulsively micromanaging,hyperanalysing, a manic finisher,
nothing will dissuade me from the thankless pursuits of daily perfections,
the anatagonists,the ones who sneer & discourage casually at the noble attempts
of the able champions trying to maximize efficiency,to excel,win,
raising that standard which the mediocre claim can't be improved,
I and others jeapordize our health,safety,sanity so to accomplish the impossible,
I receive no grand trophies,new contracts or publicity,
nobody takes my picture or delivers a prize,
there are no special tokens or passwords on the table,
we strive ferociously for the sake of victory,for the knowledge of limits,
this way setting greater goals & tests,
being testaments for others who climb,
do I want acclaim from Deity for my successes,distinction for my sacrafices, no,
I work hard for me and others to be sublime -
J.A.B.
"Blushing is the color of virtue."
You're done.
You melt like a sigh
on the lips of angels.
You've drained
the paleness of injustice,
your own hands tangled up,
aw, the square stare of the truth,
impassable duel of the pupils.
Your hands are filled with the face of our tragedy,
witherering among the sidereal flowers,
a cursed sunset,
a lamp lit in the wee hours,
no truce is better than advancing to the edge of yourself,
throwing yourself into the fire of the stars,
crossing the hard core time;
with flimsy memories
descending into a blessed hell.
You want to die with the lamp lit,
not talk about anything that gives you away
when you smoke compulsively,
tramontane and bold,
you know how pliable is the scroll of fear.
You are bad, Diogenes,
with your airs of moldy poet,
twitching the neurons of those who feel
that Truth is even more pliable,
Come here, my ox, my friend.
The Gospels share a negative understory,
thematic across all four.
However diverse these four voices may be
in describing and delineating Messianic love,
and political-economic priorities for poor spirits,
all four are univocal with anecdotal warnings:
If you are on the supremely powerful hoarding side
referring to those less fortunate than your enlightened self
as mere cowards
and traitors
and sinners
being who they marginally are,
as they perhaps criminally are,
for acting out insanely,
as they compulsively,
but not long-term nurturingly, will,
then you are on a wrong side
of co-redemptive ecopolitical action;
the wrong side of the GoodNews Gospels.
Blaming the victims
of poverty and ecopolitical marginalization
of abuse and neglect,
of addiction and victimless criminalization,
is the Gospel-condemned hypocrisy
of desecrating Pharisees
and Sadducees,
Publicans
and other clericalist malignant Aristocrats,
Caesars breeding Mammon
rather than CoMessiahs breathing Manna.
If we create an old with new blend of Jesus
as Solomon,
a more positive Gospel message
invites discerning issues of freedoms and rights to say
and/or do and not do
by asking ourselves, and each other:
Will this democratize freedoms to love,
to participate
to cooperate
to look for WinWin resolutions?
And, will this build higher boundaries around monoculturing restrictions
toward further WinLose anger,
fear,
intolerance,
chronic hatreds,
while excusing hypocrisies
of supremacists calling themselves on the side of defusing love's barriers,
removed from cowards,
losers,
soft on healthy defense,
fostering long-term economic disaster areas,
deniers of LeftBrain healthy nondual co-realities,
detractors from patriarchal capital-obsessed evolutionary self-aggrandizing theories
as more culturally important
than Matriarchal-ReGenerative CoOperation Stories
about Messiahs
and wise guys, royal as humble-servant birth
of healthy,
courageously cooperative,
mutually trusting and vulnerable ecopolitics.
From whence it came
Moments were choices to be made
Time never forever remain
Were there to be words to be said?
Choices to be acted compulsively
Choices to be thought distinctively
Chosen to face subsequently
Isn’t time as always as naturally?
Champion by some, fools by others
Triumph fades and wrongdoings endure
Promises inconsiderately factors
For lying to considerately ensures
Onto ourselves we do not to others
Yet onto others we do not to ourselves
We are at peace because it bothers
We are uncomfortable because... who else?
With choices whether or not to make
We need find in ourselves to live with
Good and bad with choices of late
Endurance remains but a testament to believe
It's over
like staying up all night waiting for the perfect sunset only to be ruined by the rain that pours
all over it.
the delightful song
of my cellphone is dormant
Or
possibly in a coma
Exhuasted from the back and forth texting we implored on it.
compulsively I pop open the samsung like a fish peeking above the surface
hoping to find something that sustains, or makes us feel that we have a purpose
but it's over
It was glorious while it lasted
Like a monarch butterfly taking flight, painting the sky with an auburn fire
I was your phoenix...
But I was unable to be reborn for you
I wish you knew.... what an incredible impact you've made on my life
You are my muse
Everything that I works towards... is for you
My life currently was not made for two
No you.
No late night fights that end in slammed phones or apologetic desires for passion
so I recognize that it's over
and that I have a lot of growing up and sacrifice to do.
Goodbye friend, How dearly I shall miss you
Form:
Behind the smiles, are shattered mirrors
All broken as they could not bear the weight
Of the pain that the skies hold over me!
Behind the sparkling eyes, are wilted flowers
All still in their full youth bloom
All seeking to be assuaged by some water
But having not any desire to let go of their pots
And move to where river waters cajole each other!
Behind the unfeeling and uncaring face, are drops of venom
All seeping into my bones
Making me wish I could fall on my knees
And simply just let go of the force that inhabits me
The force that pushes me to be,
To act, to live, even if out of compulsion
The force over which I have not the slightest power!
Behind the mask of jolliness
Lies a broken doll, one compulsively digging up tunnels
Merely to try to find its purpose in this plane
So as to accept itself
So that the rest of Existence does accept it in return!
For Contest Depression
Sponsored by Lewis Raynes
Jackie who was permanently stuck in the twos after
a childhood vaccine that was due..
Larry's addiction and prior crimes that led to his
affliction and wheel chair confine.
Bill who struggled with his c.p., only hoping that
others could see beyond his disability..
Joe whose institutional blows caused stuttering,
frustration and angry explodes..
Carol whose Asperger's left her obsessed compulsively
dialing strangers on her ex boyfriend quest..
George who got an inner thrill by chasing trash trucks
until they turned on the hill..
Phil who in public would stop and beg to touch the
calf of a woman's leg..
Barbara with her theatrical flare who craved full attention
every where..
Howard who lost his serenity when any change occured
in his vicinity..
James and his life long obsession with Marlboro lights
and fake wrestling..
Our society labels them developmentally delayed but
many were the best friends I've ever made..
What do you do
when you’re riddled with riddles,
swallowed whole
right down the middle?
Music blares,
but it’s not me.
’Twas a toot or two
from a fiddle.
What do you do
when your riddles get riddled?
When you’re all alone
and you fiddle your diddle.
Nothing comes out
but a little
piddle.
Compulsively arranged
and out of control,
thought after thought
has swallowed me whole.
Riddled with feelings,
I pick at my mind,
looking for answers
that no one can find.
Can you connect the dots?
I’m trying to justify
whatever still rots.
Riddled with riddles,
discarded
like an afterthought.
Something’s not right here.
Something became
a knot.
While we were sleeping
Snug in our beds
Lost in our dreams
A black spirit stole across the land
And by dawn had merged with every shadow
When we awoke
We took for granted the lingering critical sensibility
- as if awaking with a hangover
from the spectacular successes and excesses
of our civilization –
And before our morning cup
Could clear our heads
Had embraced this dark spirit
With the fervor of the newly converted
Impulsively, compulsively taking yin to yang
As if reborn from our primal roots
But when civilization falls
And is abandoned
- and undermining eventually always leads to collapse –
What is left is tribalism
But without the innocence of its youth
And youth without innocence
Is just tyranny without conscience
Shadow without form
Woke won because we became soft and sloppy
Ungrateful and guilty for all the pleasures and abundance
The hard work of Life bestows
(5/6/23)
I don’t write this for feed back or reaction
as it's not my need too feel satisfaction
I haven't invested nor look to progress
I'm just restless with rhymes ink press
them to an instrumental that's all
not a fool seeking approval to go professional
I don’t see or hear responses
your thoughts are not on my conscience
I dont care if you hate it or like it
it's all cheese to me grated or sliced bits
tastes the same on pizzas after ovens melt it
just a dried up felt tip impolitely
drawing on the wall your boring common ite-ey
the world gave me a crippling anxiety
which has removed me from society
if you want to see me act uncomfortably
all you need is to say a compliment to me
Cus me and you are completely apart
you need them while I stay apart
I'm just messing because technology is at hand
but I'm sure this pastime is hard to understand
I sit at home writing for therapy
spared a want to care what they think of me
Everyday alone blind never lose a blink of sleep
opinions they pin on me stay unseeked
I just ink in my seat to sooth my heartbeat
so you’re a fool if you think it’s done for approval
I ain’t like you I ain’t usual
so to think I want feed back
when I dont need that
if given an elevated social status
I'd evacuate free to a place more spacious
however to the 2 faces who were loyal undoubtedly
but quick to doubt and skip out on me, skidaddle
once a friend revealed as a traitor
see you later mate aint worth hating
I've awakened to truth stated
plus your company's overrated
so don't come with me or after
after friendship breaking cus if I'm not mistaken
you said to everyone I make up stories
the blagger of Bath known for blagging bad on the ordinary
blagging like a bag carries baguettes in France
saying I'm mentally unstable while you compulsively lie
and I've quit chronic while you're still on it daily
5 years ago I quit yet I'm bonkers well maybe
yet plonkers believe how you describe me so clearly
I'll never forgive you for saying I make things up
we were like family and you totally mucked it up