Long Discrepancy Poems
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MYSTAKES
Mystakes…Misteaks…Mistakes
made everywhere by everyone;
13. A misjudgment of memory in what was wrote down
3. A errror of sintax in computer coding
6. A falt in a car’s nackered engine
9. A discrepancy in a shop’s cash office readout
11. A problem with line memorisation as an actor perform onstage
8. A slip-up on a drunken night out
2. A inaccuracy of a burette measurement in a science exam
5. A mix-up of paytients in surgery operations
12. A long forgotten deadline for a university assignment
4. A blunder of five hundred doomed men charging into battle in the wrong direction
10. A miscalculation in clockwork chronometry
7. A lapse in concentration as a lunch order is given to the wrong customer in a cafe
14. A misjudgment of memory in what was wrote down
1. A oversight in gramma and speling in a poem
Mystakes made everywhere by
everyone but nobody learns from it.
David sought a vanguard for revolution,
The Black Panthers seemed the perfect solution.
He built them a foundation, it employed his friend,
Until she found fraud and met a quick end.
Betty’s murder raised questions—who and why?
An inconvenient truth his friends had to deny.
When a jarring fact is a bitter cup
Dave found that Marxists cover that truth up.
He lost faith in the Panther vanguard,
Murder was murder, the truth hit him hard.
His heroes turned out to be certifiably bad,
It was time to revise the beliefs he once had.
[chorus]
Dave couldn't forget his shock on the day:
that Betty's body was found in San Francisco Bay.
A nagging voice within wouldn't stay mute,
His former beliefs would no longer compute.
There are tools to use, the mind God bestowed,
Like a flashlight guiding on a darkened road.
Dogma can rationalize away an oncoming truck
So latch onto the questions that others duck.
David goes to campuses, sounds the alarm,
Jeered and attacked, threatened with harm.
A favored tactic is to brand him with hate,
Yet he does what he can, though it may be too late.
A radical once said "the cause is not the cause"
If you’re tempted to join, that might give you pause.
Beware the idealists for all mankind,
If you end up in the bay, they won’t mind.
[end]
When discrepancy nags, will you be mute?
When the flak hits the fan, and your enemies shoot?
Will you touch the third rail, your reputation tarred
Will you find a place in the real vanguard?
7/25/21
Until infinity
In any vicinity
Let me put it out there officially
I smoke and drink religiously
Call it the holy trinity
Initially
You'd think it does not mean s*** to me
And that all of it was done deliberately
Don't need your sympathy
Back-up or an infantry
Going to handle it differently
Instead of taking it all literally
This took effort and energy
Listen up Beverly
And Jeffery
A sad tune and melody
No cure or remedy
Every
Century
Continual treachery
Impacting longevity
Lives put in jeopardy
Done in plain sight or with discrepancy
Only thing left is a memory
The cycle going on endlessly
In case you're unaware
Had to start somewhere
I once cared
Now my heart, it's nothing there
People often just stare
Realize real life never was fair
I'd just hide and brush it to the side
I ain't got all the time
Or I'll fall behind
In a world full of crime
I've tried to keep an open mind
Instead of being asinine
Occasionally drinking seltzer with alkaline
Still looking for my valentine
While close and far from power lines
Became friends with a Porcupine
They never tried to undermine
Or made me feel like Frankenstein
Often I'm Jekyll but then I change to Hyde
All this rage inside
Is today the day I die?
Soldier, stand down
Don't be a damn clown
When there's toxic gas around
And in the sky a giant ash cloud
So what if they have doubts
And want to bad mouth
Once again I'm about to black out
All across the homeland
She needs to get with the program
I've been on that Conan
So she can get some romance
Watch me do it with no hands
Another body another toe tag
Like Godzilla against Rodan
Instead of always being so mad
Find a solution by making your own plan
Otherwise it all could go bad
A look deep down in my soul
And they shall see it, the perfect world
That which they have always been searching
That which they have always been portraying
Yes, deep down there, in my inner essence
Lies my peace
My haven
My secret garden
There, Truth prevails
Amidst, the liars of Life's gales
There, shining is my innocence
Shining and enjoying with existence, a frenetic dance
There, I stand, naked and bared
Bold and un-scared
Yes, there, even the hateful image of mine painted by my enemies
Does disintegrate, being made of discrepancies
There, I sit, all content and calm
For having eternal time at my disposal
Is all that I need to heal
All, indeed, all the time to kneel and glorify the all powerful!
There, I exalt at freedom
In each part of my being's realm
Free am I, to be, to sin, to love, to hate
To shine, to laugh, to cry, to even lose my gait
There, I fret not, for life did show me
The very many facets of its being
That which it usually hides in all secrecy
That which makes of it, a discrepancy
Pray, from a mere look deep down in my soul
You shall get awakened
Yes, your own soul shall get ripened
And like me, you shall no more fret about this world!
13 September 2016
Quite a few of them tried rather fervently
To reach the light that hangs in bows
Sent sideways perversely
Through shadows of mist-like moonbows.
Or like a sundream cascading down memories
They’d trap in their heart’s chest-like the irony of the lion
Loving the lecherous acts of temporary reveries,
While believing and denying the truth of their carrion.
Like the lambs of our lives, the ancients walked with their lips
From the caves to the clouds they sung their pain
Turning self to others and rocks to ships
They gave us a sweet emptiness that had no name.
They shot beams of shades of truth and fire cries
And sung the leaves at night their stars and knelt grass
With bugs that served us plain through bark and breeze
Tries hard to not see the discrepancy between the moment one passes
And the moment one has to pass.
There is a disturbing discrepancy
Between mortals and the spirit world,
Such as the eternal salvation of man
From the curse of sin and its hold.
The paradox of a meek virgin conceiving
After being by the Spirit overshadowed,
And then a perfect chap is born in a manger
Is a narrative of its own peculiar mode.
That in death life was made everlasting
And in suffering relief was won,
Is a creed that requires bravery to embrace,
And great conviction to believe in such a One.
Perhaps the reason why I believe in Him
Is because he only asks that I believe,
Perchance I would abandon my little faith
If was not a mortal so powerless and naïve.
And perhaps the reason why you believe in Him
Is because you only want to look fashionable enough,
Or are simply totally unsure of your afterlife
And fear finding the Judgment Panel so solemn tough.
And maybe your preacher finds it even harder to believe
The tall story he has been telling strangers day by day,
And he maybe he would quit being a peddler of funny tales
Had he another way to earn his keep and his expenses pay.
Perhaps the reason why pagans and agnostics refuse to accept
The story of this Immortal Chap who is reportedly the way and truth,
Is because they find it a bit safer to believe in nothing at all
Than to place such great stakes on the escapades of a Jewish Youth.
Now there’s the little matter of the Helper,
The benign Spirit who descended on the Pentecost
To prove without doubt that the Chap indeed was God,
But then He’s still unseen, and any may claim his presence.
I do not write to spurn the endless graces of the sky
Nor to quash my eligibility to eternal breath,
I without blasphemy observe the uncertainties facing man
And his innocent inquiry into life after death.
To believe in this Jewish Chap who forgave also the unborn
Is a risky business, and one of the greatest tragedies by the way;
The only bigger tragedy being your refusal to believe in Him
And yet find Him at the gates of Paradise on the Judgment Day.
3/22/15
Once again
Everything eventually comes to an end
Anytime, not just through the months ahead
What good is it to just pretend?
The recipe
For longevity
Was a secret remedy
And one of the ingredients was sesame
Allegedly
The temperature was seventeen
And I had a full head of steam
Because of something they said to me
But I let it be
Coincidentally
What was done next was carried out with discrepancy
The house was squalid
And barely solid
But the place had a draw of solace
There was a tree that was an almond
And a black cauldron
Which contained knowledge
In a stew made with the involvement of olives
By: Dalton Ogletree
Mind will always dream,
eyes will endlessly gaze,
lips will remain impatient.
Although, I've not met her,
the heart is a battleground
of anguish and angst.
Its cries, seeking the serenity
of her secret sanctuary.
Hope ascends to tranquil heavens.
Twilight's baptism, blends
merigold into fading blue horizons
with sparkling amethysts hues.
Oh my beautiful beloved,
come to me with your comforting arms,
like soothing stars, shepherding
the nebulous night sky.
Destiny can deceive,
sometimes a friend, sometimes a foe,
but, we search for the blessings,
through each trial and tribulation.
For, she is the silence,
between heart beats -
who's name rests upon
tense tips of the tongue.
In the discrepancy of distance,
love's appetite lingers in lament -
yearning for our lips to merge.
Yet the night is an unfinished symphony.
Idyllic lyrics craving to pour,
upon an incomplete song sheet.
Without her,
Silent One's muse is mute.
I am not a poet,
But in her reflection -
I am poetry.
Simple Musing
Silent One
1 August 2020
The truth has experienced a hard time these days
With alternative facts, distorted reality twittering in viscous ways
You would expect down right good sense to somehow prevail
As common sense is no longer common and seems to have gone to hell
Spin doctors and scandal adjusters are raking in billions
To present an alternative truth to the American millions
They are now attacking the press for speaking truth to power
And those in high positions have tried to fortify their towers
Narcissistic liars are now in control
I just pray that God watches over all of our souls
Now Jesus is the truth and Jesus is the Word
Just do not believe those political shysters no matter what you've heard
To be a fact checkers like those folks called Bereans
To read and search the Holy Scripture and not just believe what you're seeing
To see reality and call it what it be
To simply tell the truth without any discrepancy
To now be true to yourself with a self examination
To acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses with full explanation
No longer to let society whitewash facts and diminish your history
As a child of God you're a strong African American with your own story
The truth will set us free and we need to realize
That lies and falsehoods are like a Cracker Jacks box prize
Shiny on the outside pretty at first sight
But unlike the truth never to stay upright
Dusk dawns noticeably earlier each night in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania - yup
Which trend will continue some days before
winter solstice 2021 in Northern Hemisphere,
Tuesday, December 21 10:58 AM.
Yes, interestingly enough earliest sunset date(s)
along eastern United States
will occur December 7 and 8, 2021 at 4:28 pm EST.
Similar respective phenomena
takes place across globe.
Winter solstice constitutes
shortest day of the year in terms of daylight,
but does not have latest sunrise
nor earliest sunset of the year.
This prevails because discrepancy exists
between modern-day timekeeping methods
and how time is measured
using the Sun known as the equation of time.
The equation of time comprises
east or west component of the analemma,
a curve representing angular offset of the Sun
from its mean position on celestial sphere
as viewed from Earth.
I thoroughly enjoy onset of early darkness
unperturbed courtesy
seasonal affective disorder (SAD).
Alas and alack
matter of fact yours truly
optimally thrives when pitch black
skies immerse bookworm as impetus to crack
open a novel and/or read
one of my favorite (MAD) magazines
versus basking in sunshine which doth distract,
thus I while away hours appeasing
sixty plus shades of gray (cerebral) matter
processing criteria at greased lightning speed
considerably faster than once
venerably touted supreme ENIAC,
whereby mine figurative pistons
incalculably subvert additional
superfluous irrelevant flack
spurring me to burrow
deep inside invisible gunnysack
cause ordinary stress I could not hack
conveniently latched onto
ninety sixties counterculture mantra
"turn on, tune in, drop out"
popularized by Timothy Leary in 1966
essentially only in body not spirit
throughout academic foray,
I occupied space and time
paid dear price, cuz
submissive behavior heavily did impact
writer of these words a jejune Jack,
who during formative years
never dated, nor got jilted
cuz he possessed
unquestioned unhealthy uncanny
fealty and deadly eating disorder
body dysmorphia knack
positive image of self I lack,
an existence punctuated
by one after another panic attack.