Long Copying Poems
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The Almighty has created me an angel.
The mindlessness in me has changed me a devil.
When I have a beautifully sensitive nose,
Why am I unable to smell a fragrant rose?
My sense of taste has been, preciously marvelous.
I have marvelously turned it highly tasteless.
How my sober, secure, sure sense of soulful sight,
Has turned into dull, dark, dim, dreary deadly light?
My hearing sense seems sound, and sensitively sharp,
Why am I not able to hear my own sharp harp?
Though thousands fall on me like heavy human rocks,
I don't feel their touch or even the rocking knocks.
My mind has, alas, gone very far-far from me,
It has gone beyond control like a drunken monkey.
If I could mindfully sit the morning moment
Meditating the beauty of God's covenant...
If I could eat my food savoring every taste,
Tasting and relishing and knowing every waste...
If I could watch the birds and hear the flowers bloom,
And be one with hard-working honey bees and plume...
If I calm my mind and completely concentrate,
Relaxing and light like saints within levitate...
If I owing my compassion fraternal love,
Make someone feel the compassion of God above...
If I am an innocent immaculate child,
And thus my soul always in purity abide...
If I could feel the feeling when I plant a tree,
The true feeling-full feeling of planting me...
If I could create things than merely copying,
Partake in God's continued act of creating...
If I could manually work hard and sweat well,
Keep healthy and hearty my every little cell...
It's then the mindfulness will make its home in me,
And in that home, God of love will abide with me.
12 June 2021
MINDFULNESS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
A Concealed exercise concocted,
Wuhan Lab the playground,
secretive China obliges,
Western media consenting,
Medical experts silenced.
the age of censorship,
Dictators feigning incognito,
The diurnal and nocturnal schemes of top players,
A script before the scourge,
The drama of emergencies
A death unwarranted
alternative cure submerged,
Pharmacopia playing god,
opinions censored,
Freedom becomes a crime
Men afraid to die,
adorned in masks as domesticated vermin,
Socialist alarmed at Cowards
As dictatorship ascending in western democracy,
Ignorance elevated as advocate for CDC
Unending Speculation by tyranny
The weekly changing rules.
Connivers employing Fear,
Orchestrations and the Mournful diddy
Alpha
Beta,
Gamma
Delta,
and Omicron the game changer.
Controlling the world by unproven conjectures
First it was the Mask,
Then social distancing,
Sanitize, Isolation without empathy,
The numbers defiant,
The People's servants globally consenting to experiment
with the speed of a wing
The Lab Lords proposed a cure,
Greed conspired , the masses the guinea pigs,
Unverified Vaccine,
defrauding all of the liberty of Choice,
unprofessional medical rape,
breaking the Laws to invoke their Laws,
Rulers Turned scientists
Dictator found their Voices
compelling all to dine in an experiment
“safe and effective” the chorus of bias profiteers
Society divided.
“Vaxxed” VS “unvaxxed”
All Watching TV to form opinion.
Australia copies UK,
subjecting citizens to barbarism
America copies Australia,
senseless cohesion in place of Freedom,
France copying America,
Ignorant Cops abusive,
opposing sensible resistance,
The Truckers made a mark
though clamped down by tyrannical “emergencies”
The unending Jabs,
four times in Israel curing nothing,
A false sense of security,
The demand sales pitched
Experiment over, The Data concealed
To protect a Lie,
A massive Fraud,
The UK law breaker suspends mandates,
avoiding the sword of Damocles
And they all one by one taking turns
accepting failures while others in denial
ignoring the damage of trial
ALL IS SIMPLICITY
Create a little business for
the Eye to be drawn from
trees, to return them with more
glee.Variety, lively touches,
surprising effects to make
the heart dance so pictures
walk out from their frame.
All is simplicity and elegance
almost motionless plainness
in a grand style.The eye may
be cheated by appearance and
size, as a tune confused by a
false bass, a fictious bundle of
trumpery in poetical impossibilities.
Fools talk of imitation and
copying, all is imitation, what
makes the difference,not genius
or conception but performance.
From Thomas Gainsborough letters
*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet) to compile unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.
Listen to me read this phrasis of mine on youtube under the name ichthyschiro
COLLEGE STUDENTS SHAPING MY WINGS
"She did this" and "She tore my paper, I’m red mad!"
"Miss, tell her to quit copying my lines!"
Every nail of rampage was tolerable,
as bright awakenings made semesters less tough.
They joined clubs and played a sneaky gang war
all the crammed jigs my college students fulfilled
only to grin, "Did our exams fly high ?"
"Please, can we have a make-up work, right now?"
The weeks of campus sermons droned along,
Graduation came, in a flash, they were gone!
I remember how the bonfire days used to flame
our summer nights warmed... unbidden and long.
I watched them grow and warmly discovered,
the different shades of patience in my nine lives.
The boyfriends came and then they disappeared,
oh now what? Some became instant brides.
Another set arrived for academe's rites,
while new batches of rogues began to stir.
Again, party hopping rolled with dreams on flight
that's when my wonder sparked a renewed glow.
With folios of ideas marked,"Let's start".
Each one carrying gifts of awe so dear,
I tossed them all with glitters from my heart…
but, these groups flexed my wings to stretch wider
as a more untamed troop outsmarted the last!
For Silent One's Contest
A Poem That Time Forgot
in old school days
i used to eat
paste
that we were
supposed to
use for art
works such
as a stick
figured
snow man
who's hands
were made of
sticks but i
got stuck on
eating the stuff
but can't say it was
like purposely
putting
a tube of glue
in a paper bag
sniffing until
passing out
for in simply
taking a taste
while copying
Picasso
was
truly Proustian
for my mind
took not
by smell yet
was propelled
to a time
when i was ill
and Mum was
making oatmeal
taking a taste
spoon fed
takes
me back
to an earlier
time when i was
in a highchair
unaware if all
but being
fed pablum
by someone
so i suppose
this wasn't
a mind opening
experience of
remembrance
of things
past
Form:
"Pandemic gave many lessons. How many did we learn?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Running after money ~ not bothering about health and joy
Trying to reach the top ~ not bothering about living joyously
Spending all on satisfaction of senses ~ not saving for future
Hooked on to electronic devices ~ not spending time with loved ones
Bothering more about appearance ~ forgetting inner beauty
Copying others ~ no clue where we are headed
Knowing life is transient ~ living as if we are eternal
We need to reset our life ~ our priorities
03.07.2021
Submitted to Global reset, Joe Maverick
Syllables count checked at PS syllables counter
Rank 6th
We’re shape-shifting, my roommates and I. Transitioning mentally from freshmen and sophomores (nobodies) into juniors (somebodies). We’ve been around, we’re not the new kids anymore. We’re being seen and appreciated. It’s a mindbang.
There was a coolike girl, Kathleen, who was a senior when I was a freshman. I had a mad, mad envy-crush on her. She was everything I wanted to *be* when I was scared and unsure about things. Kathleen was perfect., an example of success that, like a fulcrum, lifted our confidence.
When she was around, I’d watch her, discreetly. She had this unconscious habit of touching her chin, with her index finger, when she was thinking. I swear, I found myself copying her, until Leong saw me do it once and said “Kathleen!” I was embarrassed. You can’t get away with anything around here.
Kathleen graduated last year. I saw her once, in her graduation gown, from afar. I got emotional. Part of me wanted to rush over, give her a huge, congratulatory hug and tell her what a role model she’d been for me - even though we’d never even talked, but I was afraid she’d think I was a stalker.
.
.
Webster: Fulcrum: a support that lifts*
slang..
mindbang = a shifting in a well-established paradigm.
coolike = a really awesome person you admire
perfect. = (the period has to be there) an amazing, flawless role model
Repeat, remember, re-rehearse, recall,
embroider the memory, live it again.
Various variations repeating a theme.
The pain come back,. repeat,
yet the dead and gone spring up more strong.
Images flow through your open eyes
and you know it's not real anymore,
that its just mind's copying machine
printing fiction as fact.
Look away, refresh, forget,
but then you relive it again.
Try to learn.
Repeat remember, re-hearse, recall.
The memory now so distorted,
so smudged and puffed up
out of nothing at all.
Clear the movie, burn the screen.
Watch the fire consume the past forever.
No more sequels.
Repeat not the long dead letter,
let the past bury the past.
Hand it a shovel.
If it won't go away,
kill it with a Fresh 'Now' Moment.
Don't look back.
Entering a new phase of life full of standing ovation
can be disrupted by the polarized effect of growth.
Innocence is pressed by social hypocrisy
to expose a young heart to adult conspiracies.
It’s tough to be in between the balance of morality and biology;
prematurity may be a reasonable excuse
but defending that little wisdom with clever restrictions
is a vital and compensatory need.
The right hand punches away corrupt company
but the left never lets go their naughty flare.
Growing wants then begin to misplace events and reasons
as a night club is for instance turned to a place for sight-seeing.
Carefulness is lost and internal scrutiny easily carried away.
A wrong predator then wins that precious attention’s mandate;
lies come with charismatic fun to leave total believe with no option.
Breaking a three days dry fast with mushroom and vodka, one brags,
such false manliness is captured and quickly admired.
Spending a night with a man in an isolated room
with the only expectation of playing chess;
not considering he is well blooded and physically functional,
enacting the precept of “can see, may touch but can’t taste”
is a time bomb set to explode in a matter of seconds.
Bending standards in conformity to peer-pressure,
copying the trend but doing it in a different fashion.
Act may be temporarily bound but the mind is already full blown;
interest is lured for a protracted time
just for corruption to cajole and make a deal.
Attention settles it for manifestation to take over,
drug, violence and sex once poked through accessible media
are fully accepted by the wishes of germinating drives.
Boundaries are what attract check points
when they’re non-existent, naivety is promoted
and no matter the made rules, foolishness most often wins
to craft out experience,
covered with the unattractive curtains of deadly mistakes.
I had a sweet dream last night that we were dancing
and the song was beautiful and entrancing
lovers gliding on the dance floor
it was amazing and it was all I ever wanted
wedding guests faded away
for we were lost as we twirled and swayed
it seems like a thousand years ago
around and around you twirled me
and we mingled in clouds of lights like birds set free
you whispered our love was forever
but sadly, in the book of your life . . . God had it written
and your destiny could not be unwritten
now, my heart beats as I stand all alone with sad tears
the sweet music still playing in my head
the cemetery trees weeping, swaying, and moaning
I am trying to be brave but I am so afraid
time stands still as I walk 'on flowers beneath my feet'
darling, I will love you for a thousand years and more
I will come in summer, fall, winter and spring
in falling rain, howling winds, and freezing snow
I will love you forever and more
no time or death can erase this love . . .
Free verse/Flowers Beneath My Feet/ Human Written
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All Rights, Constance La France
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