Long Disapproving Poems
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Be kind to others
As you would have even your ecopolitical enemies
and win/lose ZeroSum competitors
be kind,
feel kinship,
speak kindly,
listen cooperatively,
take turns co-investing in win/win solidarity
with ecological empowering
enlightening interdependent Us.
Be not unkind to
or against Others
As you would not have even your Lose/Lose
non-ecological monoculturing,
out of control,
beyond healthy curiosity,
runaway wealthy StraightWhiteMale privileged,
RightWing negative Patriarchal Capitalists
become un-ecologically unkinned
against you
With the nearly unforgiveable audacity
to camouflage
patriotic nationalism
with anthrosupremacist rights of Earth ownership
to remain stubbornly win/lose
against healthy matriotic ecological views
of cooperative co-empathic integrity
As also Green CoPassionate wants and needs
roots and seeds
for polypathic communication
Refining win/win messages
healthy choices
wealthy voices
that regenerative democratic energy
is not necessarily not PatriarchalCapitalism degenerative
RightWing Yanged-out meanness energy
does not yet equal Yintegral Green LeftWing
exponentially spiraling synergy
As monotheistic Yang
equals not not ecological Yintegrity
exponentially squared
As EarthSpace that kindly matters
is also not not resilient Time
ecologically ex-potentially squared
in-formationally cubed
and kindly spiraling health dynamic
co-relational fractal wealth
Is not quite the same
as either proving
or disproving
that controlling PatriarchalCapitalism
reversed through principles
of both polyculturing and communal
healthy root systemic wealth
begets necessarily ecological kind co-relationships
Not bipolarizing out of control
not judging
disapproving
criminalizing
punishing
taking win/lose revenge
blaming with leftbrain verbal dominance,
overpowering by shaming right mindbody
neuro-sensory
co-passionate prime non-zero kind attachment
Zone of internal
polyentheistic nondenial of divisive secularizing turmoil
inviting WholeEarth Tribal co-investments
re-memeing
cooperative Green Indigenous EarthWomanist
kind memories of PolyCultural Communalists
Who really just don't have time
for all that nonsacred
monotheistic PatriarchalCapitalist sin
and mean ignorance.
The August's heat wave made streets sizzle,
in the fifties there was no air conditioning;
can we imagine the frustrutating feeling
that made bodies and minds very feeble?
Summer was fun on that noisy Mulberry Street,
no traffic went through it: such a sad downbeat;
how happy were the kids that couldn't help screaming,
getting wet in a large pool of water that was refreshing.
Blame that rascal kid that opened the firehydrant,
nobody went to school and mothers seemed moody;
some vendors were mad, but watching was so groovy...
they weren't nagging and enjoyed the scene with interest.
My books lay on the stoop, splashing water made them slide
nom brought them in giving me a naughty and disapproving look...
even she realized that's another silly excuse for me not to hide,
dipping bread into her delicious gravy while dad sliced the snook.
Copyright ( c ) 20017 by Andrew Crisci
Human imperfection is our heritance from Adam and Eve.
If any of us think we're guiltless, it's ourselves we deceive.
Human weakness is the stained affliction of all mankind.
If we think we are better than most, then truly we are blind.
Don't be so quick to judge the transgressions of others.
God intended for us to be equal, treating all as brothers.
Before pointing an accusing finger in the wrong direction,
First examine ourselves to discover our own imperfection.
Pray to God so that He may give us the faith to be strong.
Commending is always right; disapproving is always wrong.
We should always put forth the effort to be mild and meek,
and when we do, we will find rich blessings that we seek.
Pointing out the faults of men is taking negative action,
and in God's view of us, He will take no satisfaction.
Hypocrite would be the name some would call us by,
and on the Judgement Day, we will be the one to cry.
Refrain from using the harsh words meant to criticize.
Keep rein on our tongues; see others with loving eyes.
God will hold us accountable for the hurts we may cause.
Before condemning someone, be mindful of our own flaws.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Inspired by the Bible Verse found at Matthew 7:3
"Why, then, do you look at the straw in your brother’s eye
but do not notice the rafter in your own eye?"
___________________________
December 28th 2015
I Am Not Ashamed Of The Gospel
Sponsor: Olive Eloisa Guillermo
Sleep and wake; the tide of routine
Fall and Arise; the cycle of life
These are divine, beyond being smart
That's even when you have to restart
Possibly, God is definitely in between
Which by heart makes energy so rife
I am trying
I keep moving
I need You Daddy
Be my Guardian Angel
When I am down to earth
Lord, fight fight fight
It is never so easy to give in
Father, fight fight fight
For me at the expense of Your breath
Yes, fight fight fight
To give Breath so cheap into the claim of my sin
Still, You fight fight fight
Birth and death are human plight
A life is lit and it burns really short
Man don't flip the flops of time
Which is not running often to its prime
Flames of its burn shine dim or bright like sort
Many can't help deny their own bright light
Turn off sighing
Turn on approving
Let me dwell in Thy caddy
Save me from the first archangel
When I am down to earth
Lord, fight fight fight
It is never so easy to give in
Father, fight fight fight
For me at the expense of Your breath
Yes, fight fight fight
To give Breath so cheap into the claim of my sin
Still, You fight fight fight
I can't face this beautiful madness all alone
Troubles are usual suspects trying our best
Sorrows pile up with the tough times in few
Tomorrow yet not guarantee of giving something new
Fate is to every crazy or gentle soul unknown
Yet, by luck or chance, no one dares put trying to rest
I am decrying
I keep disapproving
I need Your audience
Be my conveyance
When I am down to earth
Lord, fight fight fight
It is never so easy to give in
Father, fight fight fight
For me at the expense of Your breath
Yes, fight fight fight
To give Breath so cheap into the claim of my sin
Still, You fight fight fight
In Skagway town, eighteen ninety-eight
Lived a young man, Elliot McKay.
He worked with his father selling dry goods,
To the miners heading Klondike-way,
They made some good coin in a day.
Elliot he, like most younger men,
Had an eye for womanly curves.
His favorite worked in a house downtown,
With dark hair done up in curls,
A woman who’d ‘broadened’ his world.
At first it was cold, but that all changed quick,
And they soon were a regular thing.
She taught him skills a man needs to know,
Really took the boy under her wing,
And knew how to make his heart sing.
But his father said “Boy, don’t fool yourself,
That damned girl wants nothing but cash.
And many a man has found himself broke,
Chasing after a professional lass,
You better get over her fast!”
But Elliot continued, and went when he could
For weeks this went on, as before.
Until one day she asked to meet his kin,
Not the act of some common whore.
She must have loved him like never before!
They went to his house outside of town,
His lady fidgeting and tense,
Elliot knew she must be nervous,
To be meet disapproving parents,
He prayed that his dad would relent.
She entered the home and father went cold,
His face truly taken aback.
His jaw dropped and he said aloud,”Clarice!”
Then she shouted outside,”It’s Mack!”
A new figure stormed in from out back.
A man appeared, a gun in his hand,
Pushing before him Elliot’s mother.
Elliot had seen his likeness before,
It was the felon Bloody Jack Carruthers,
He knew it could be no other.
Jack said,”Now, now, we meet again,
McKay, the man who survived,
When our gang fell down in Monterey,
Shot up back in seventy-five!
Our loot you had on your ride!”
“And now I see how you spent it all,
And made it pay out in droves,
While I rotted away in sweltering cells
Far down south in old Mexico,
Imagining how this would all go!”
“You see this girl here, she is in my pay,
Since I heard that your son took a shine.
She played the damn fool, acted in love,
Until he’d bought into her lies.
And she led me here where I did find…”
“That a dirty skunk, yellow as can be
Built his home on the blood of my friends!
And all because this pretty young girl,
Your stupid, young son could bend.
Now then, prepare for your end…”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Things shrouded in mystery
are quickly discarded
and simply not believed;
this false-hood staggers me
and others unjustifying them...
While knowledge increases,
faith,once invincible,decreases...
with only few to defend it!
Creation is the work of the Eternal,
everything testifies to that;
convinctions should be concrete,
not implausible and superficial...
They should be credible enough
to attribute it to His almighty hand
and anyone disapproving it,
denies it...by calling it a myth!
O world so careless and rebellious...
indulging in sin without remorse,
you refuse to believe in a real God
who doesn't hide from anybody who seeks Him;
and He can end anguish and shame!
O world so preoccupied with wealth and galore,
this madness can cause you more harm than good;
He who created you has greater plans in store!
Creation is the work of the Eternal,
the entire Universe will be yours to explore;
and you'll be given dominion over it always...
and if angels are higher than you...fear not,
because you'll be rule over them...God
has predestined you to greatness!
O world so merciless and intolerant of fairness,
break free of deception and selfishness,
there are no planets more beautiful than this,
the Earth was given to Man for freedom and bliss!
He lured easy prey into darkest night
Innocent, this had been no risk.
Groomed her until she had squelched her light.
Their romancing was a round pattern disc.
She responds to his disapproving looks.
Innocent, this had been no risk.
She no longer retrieves to her books.
Deferring to his every whim.
Hidden away in his castle nooks.
Her whole world now belongs to him.
She does not gasp, whisper or sigh.
I feel her fate is rather grim.
I give her hug and a reluctant bye.
Her response is stiff and straight.
I hear my chest heave a heartfelt sigh.
She traveled with him compliantly
He lured easy prey into darkest night
Outmaneuvering her reliantly.
Groomed her until she had squelched her light
Written 5-02-22
Contest: An Original Terzanelle
Host L Milton Hanks
I've been driving for decades.
A yellow Buick, deluxe convertible circa '51',
the model with the three-speed manual transmission -
8 cylinder.
A deserted desert diner. The door creaks.
Tomatoes fry on a skillet.
I throw my Panama,
feed bread into a counter toaster.
A woman appears, drying her hands.
"You've found me in my old age -
how impolite of you."
She says between disapproving lips.
She is indeed old, her face lined and lovely.
"Is that your Buick"?
Before I can answer, she asks,
"is that your hat on a rack at the back"?
I answer, "I think this is a date."
"Only this time you're the pitiful figure." She interjects,
spooning tomatoes onto a plate.
I remember how badly I treated her,
making my excuses, leaving early in the evening.
"This is it!" I exclaim.
Our second chance!."
A withering look.
"In my story," she says, "you die young on the highway,
in a ball of flames."
The horn on the Buick honks.
Someone came with me.
I imagine his black charred hand
on the big white steering wheel.
Green tomatoes sizzle.
Onlookers remarked that he was aging gracefully
His disposition so sunny, cheerful, upbeat
Making plans for the future with his sweetheart
Taking such pride in his many grandchildren
True, he moved tentatively, pausing more and more
often to rest, breathing in fits and spasms, and betimes
his sentences trailed off into the vapor of the distant past
Then too there were the conversations where you needed
to repeat and repeat yourself, again and again, before
he would finally get it --
But oh, that infectious, wide smile which broke out on his
face when he did get it! Ah, that was a smile well worth
waiting for, indeed -- a smile that brought comfort and
peace to all those around him...
...Who were all the more confounded when he turned
inward, shaking his head, mumbling to himself as
cane-aided, he shuffled and stumbled his way home
'midst the sea of disapproving faces
Driving home for a visit long overdue
along the NJ turnpike, the Delaware, straight away I flew,
down to Baltimore once more while leaning on the horn
scenery consistent and familiar with the road weather worn.
The exits looked unfamiliar, tolls now increased and gained
the road a little wider than before, the tally upward of insane
and backed up to the tolls and bridges - a bevy of traffic
causing wonder, what, where, when, why spoke vocal graphics.
Then three hours in I finally spied
the exit missed, in my surprise, I cried,
I ached from the journey, the drawn out highway slide
back tracking, at last, I again became home fried.
At any rate, there was the house at last
and out of the car I hurried fast,
greeted at the door, we hugged, we laughed
watching my parked car slide down the driveway path.
The short visit planned was now an extender
bumper and car creating a fender bender.
At any rate, there it was, fast moving,
speeding car, driver and insurance disapproving.
Julia Ward's contest - At any rate, it was fast moving