Long Idol Poems
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Humdumpty was an analyst, a Cambridge Ph.D.,
A noted bio-atomist, whatever that might be.
Indeed, from earliest childhood it was his single aim
To analyze no matter what might enter his domain.
He analyzed his father's watch and next the neighbour's cat.
Ah! Little more was seen or heard of Felix after that.
Astounding learned pedagogues, hard pressed to keep his pace,
Humdumpty grew up daily--in knowledge if not grace.
And then at university his intellectual power
Decimated Einstein and the works of Schopenhauer.
With ease that was amazing he romped a Double First,
And yet, for all his learning, nought quenched his burning thirst.
Despite the storm, and tumult that marked his inner life,
Humdumpty found the leisure to woo--and win--a wife.
He loved her--Oh! so dearly, his idol and his joy!
Alack! How oft our dearest 'tis we ourselves destroy.
One day in stormy weather he raised his eyes above,
And posed himself the riddle: "What constitutes her love?"
One night--to angels' weeping--the dark thought seized his mind:
"By scalpel and analysis the answer I shall find."
Full soon she took a sleeping draught, and when the time was due,
He set about his gruesome task, inspired by love so true.
How tenderly, how lovingly, he cut into her heart.
With what profound emotion he set his spouse apart.
To isolate that molecule in which all love resides
He scrutinized each corpuscle, and did much else besides.
All data was computerized, and ere a while had passed,
A reasonable hypothesis was imminent at last.
How tantalizing is the truth, how far--and yet, how near!
'Twas in the corner of his eye--and then would disappear.
It dawned at last upon him, his efforts would prove vain,
Unless he somehow managed to join her up again.
Of every art that served this end he tried the whole range through.
He first tried biophysics--and his last resort was glue.
Alas, alas, Humdumpty! There is a fateful law:
Some things men set asunder no mortal can restore.
They did not need a hangman or Madame Guillotine.
Before another week had passed, he died of bitter spleen.
Now some say he's in Heaven, and others, he's in Hell.
I'm not a theologian, it's difficult to tell.
For sure, he cut his dear wife up, and who would call that right?
But was it not his quest for truth that brought about his plight?
A Determined Devil -
As I lay another cedar beam plumb for our home
smoke plumes, serpentine and sulphuric, interrupts the sunshine,
I look below the ridge, Eve standing silent
with weapon in hand,
a woman so grand,
panic has no rest in her person, fear has no finger on her pulse,
I move like lightning, to war by my Lady's side,
Valley vandels have come, scortching field fruit,
searing insidious signs into our peach and apples trees,
incarnate, the Devil disheveled with a defunct posse of three
approaches me, hailing not from a city of Angels but from a ghetto of ghouls,
mean and ugly like ignorance injured by the ivory tusks of innocence,
a madman desperate for the destruction of Divinity,
unskillful and wishful for lies to come alive,
he's a scribbler scribe, a dribbler riddler
a stereotype simpleton, frontin' and gruntin'
fallin short of the great gangsta idol,
just a stereotypical imbecile, a pencil with no lead,
burpin chicken feathers claimin them to be the silk quill of Angels,
I turn to Eve now
with eyes saying now is the time for demise,
briefly, before I strike steel across the throat of Hell itself
our first promise to each other repeats in my memory,
"I forever fight for you"
as her brown eyes convince me of loyalty, love royal,
she rips her blade through his groin
as I open a river across the throat of this terrible thug...
Raising A Tribe -
Eve, this land is already populated by persons whom seem like us,
although different too, like seasons in soul,
divergent in their dreams for dynasty,
they have dialects from a depth of Dawn
that awoke long before we arrived to thrive here,
customs peculiar as shapes to stones,
Father never spoke of these klans
who strive to survive outside the mercy of His guarded Garden,
competitive as clouds in a shrunken sky,
I met a merchant, a servant to trade,
he told of banners and blood, laws and legacies
cultures savage and cities of crime,
gleamed from telling stories of wealth and wonder,
said they worship their Gods more ways than gold folds,
consider what we have encountered Luv,
will our children slay or be slain, war or work
love or get lost in conquest,
you, as a Woman of God's glorious gambit
have a harvest of futurity's face in the balance,
will you deliver the destiny of our union into this drama...
Justin A. Bordner...J.A.B. 2021
If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...
I receive the wind's forced breath against my face-and revel in my locks rolling in the vibrant
sunlight.
We hover just above a splash of rainbow painted flowers,
that kiss my toes with open petals of joy.
The scent so pure,
shall decorate my skin forevermore.
We crest high into the ocean tinted sky.
Humbly greet birds which share in our gift,
and delight us in symphonies of angelic praise.
I close my eyes for a startled moment,
as we dance through a vineyard of bumble bees-
"Buzz,Buzz," They caution sternly to us, their unexpected visitors.
A smile imposes my lips at the thought of their disrupted task;
Only to pass them, look over my shoulder and witness their purpose resume within natural
elegance.
A shimmering mirror of water now lies underfoot.
I feel the warmth of the sun's reflection cast up under our joined form.
"Faster, faster!" I command my fairy-friend.
As I lay down flat and wrap my limbs snugly around to secure myself, our speed begins to
flourish.
With quick, steady, pace, we descend onto the water's surface.
Skips and twists- twirl into a tango of splashes,
which shower my face with each perfectly intentional bounce.
The tickle rises up from deep in my belly,
I laugh, a laugh full of true obliviation.
Dragonfly now lifts, higher and higher we go-
As I glide upon heavenly stilled wings.
We drift within utopian clouds,
they pass before our sights like vapored curtains before a theater of whimsy, unveiling a
masterpiece.
The presented gift, is that of majestic mountain tops that promise the scent of sweetly
perfumed evergreen.
This aroma leaves me breathless.
The aroma evokes childhood visions of wishing stars,
and kisses goodnight.
I inhale the memory for a moment longer,
cherishing the scent before I must once again grow older.
My friend I have been blessed to dance in the breeze with,
slows to a transcending idol.
We encircling the center of a noble rose.
We descend gently into the heart of the queen of flowers,
and land on her royal stage.
I delicately climb down, lay upon her silk;
and closed my eyes to dream.
Dreams which have atlas' transpired to become,
my long awaited reality.
If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...
If it was not for¡¦
Beyonce Irreplaceable, I would not have put his bags out and told him he must
not know about me! Because if it was not¡¯t for Destiny¡¯s Child, I would not be
asking him was She the reason he start acting funny
He was telling me I was tripping and like Gucci Gucci I told him B.... I Might Be¡¦
Therefore, like Keyshia Cole I had to Let Him Go!
Every since I let him go¡¦like my inspiration You Couldn¡¯t Tell Me Nothing and I
was hitting the clubs Bottle Poppin¡¦Sh!t I was Remy Ma cuz I was FRESH 2
Death¡¦
Therefore, for him and my haters I told yal I was gon 2 bump like this¡¦
If you ever felt like this in the words of my Idol Keyshia, I¡¯m Just Like YOU¡¦.
Part 2
I am so glad that I found my Angel listening to Bobby V¡¦. I felt like Lil Wayne when
you told me I can be you judge¡¦So Nasty wit it!
Sometimes I feel like Alicia, I wish that we could be together more to cherish our
time and you can hug me as if You will never see me again...
In the words of Mary J, we will be Just fine, because you taught me you are just
like Mario and you are Crying out for me while listening to my heart
I am so glad that you CC all those other girls around town and You choose me 3
stacks¡¦.
So now, we can make love in the Mirror like Neyo¡¦If anything goes wrong we can
Make it like is was like Pretty Ricky.
In the end like Avant and Keke theirs nothing in the world I would not do for you
boy¡¦Good thing I listened to Lloyd and opened up my eyes and seen that you are
they One for me. Therefore, I am going to take Ciara¡¯s advice and Promise that
I will never ever hurt you¡¦because you are My Boo.
So I will flash my Promise Ring everywhere I go¡¦Damn I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU!
Part 3
Can you really Put it Down like T-Pain, and get it Poppin with our Nasty Grind¡¦
Just Say It! You are Addicted to Sex like Neyo¡¦
Just because you are such a Seduction¡¦.I Can¡¯t Leave you Alone¡¦
Like Plies I am happy to be yo Shawty¡¦even tho you told me once you put it down
I was gone be stuck¡¦
I am Sorry, so therefore you can put the Blame On Me...
As, Pretty Ricky would say I want you to Stay a little bit longer
Because I am going to Suffocate without you¡¦cuz, you know exactly How I like it
So go back and tell yo friends that you chick said hello cuz I know THEY KNOW¡¦.
¢¾ Mz.Liscious
12/18/2007
Form:
Cultural and Social Terms
Idol: In Persian poetry, often refers to the beloved, particularly one who is non-Muslim. The term carries complex connotations of forbidden desire and spiritual challenge.
Veil: Refers both to the physical head covering and the metaphysical veil between the material and spiritual worlds in Sufi thought.
Fate's Wheel: The wheel of fortune or destiny (charkh-e falak), a common motif in Persian literature representing the unpredictable nature of fate.
Character Names
Giti: A Persian name meaning "world" or "universe," suggesting the beloved encompasses all existence for the lover.
Saeed: An Arabic name meaning "happy" or "blessed," ironic given the character's suffering in love.
Poetic Devices and Concepts
Ghazal tradition: Though this is a masnavi, it draws heavily from the ghazal (lyric poem) tradition of Persian literature, with its emphasis on unrequited love and spiritual longing.
Tavern: In Sufi poetry, the tavern represents the place of spiritual gathering and divine intoxication, not literal alcohol consumption.
Cup and Wine: The cup represents the heart or soul, while wine represents divine love or spiritual knowledge.
Dawn: Often symbolizes spiritual awakening, hope, or the appearance of the beloved.
Mystical Concepts
Fana: The Sufi concept of self-annihilation or dissolution of the ego in divine love, reflected in the lovers' ultimate union where individual identity dissolves.
Ishq: Divine or passionate love that transcends ordinary human affection, central to Sufi thought and Persian poetry.
Longing (Hijr): The pain of separation from the beloved, considered a necessary stage in spiritual development.
Historical Context
Persian Literary Tradition: This work draws from the rich tradition of Persian mystical poetry, including works by Rumi, Hafez, Saadi, and others who used love poetry as a vehicle for spiritual expression.
Courtly Love: The formal, ritualized expression of love that characterized medieval Persian court culture, with its emphasis on patience, suffering, and devotion.
____________________________________
Note: Many terms in Persian mystical poetry carry multiple layers of meaning - literal, romantic, and spiritual - simultaneously. This ambiguity is intentional and central to the tradition's power and enduring appeal.
Mothers stay up late when
Their kids can’t sleep..
A mother’s affection
Will always run deep.
A mother silently watches
Her child asleep in their bed.
She looks back on her life before she
Was a mother and her soul was dead.
How could she have been so lucky
To get this precious angel?
Knowing that if anyone hurts her baby
They are sure to be mangled.
A mother’s heart swells with pride
As her baby takes her first step.
When a child says “ I love you Mommy”,"
It was so emotional she wept.
To know that she is a parent
Is her greatest title.
Hoping that her child will be
Someone that others will idol.
A mother caresses her child’s
Face when she has been crying.
A mother comforts her child
When her grandmother is dying.
A mother hopes she’ll be
As great as her own mother.
She hopes she won’t fail
And be like the others.
A mother protects her child when she
Caught a tennis ball with her face.
And beating her step-son
Was definitely not a waste.
A mother sneaks down a phone when
Her child is unjustly grounded.
A mother makes damn sure when her
Husband insults her daughter he is fiercely pounded.
A mother looks over her mom
Perming her child’s hair late at night.
She pretends she doesn’t see her
Hiding so there won’t be a fight.
A mother comes to her child’s aid in her
Time of need when her own child is sick.
A mother cries when her father dies at the
Same time and she is forced to pick.
Does she go home and bury her father?
Or does she stay and comfort her child?
The fact that she’s put in this position
Is nothing short of wild.
A mother lets her child and her best friend
Plus their kids move back home.
Living eight hours away while her grandson
Is sick, she might as well have lived in Rome.
A mother comes to visit her sick
Grandson after a hard day’s work.
A mother comforts her daughter
When stress and chaos lurks.
A mother loves her children
No matter what the future holds.
Whether it’s life or death or
Runny noses from their colds.
A mother loves her daughter
In spite of all the troubles and tattoos.
A mother loves her daughter
In spite of their difference in views.
A mother loves her child
No matter what they do.
The feeling is mutual and
Mother, I really do love you.
Modern day scoffers say,
only the strong will survive
That the weak will be eaten alive
Only T-Rex,
cold-blooded logic will thrive
The talking serpents e-vol hiss,
instincts of compassion and kindness won’t abide
Forgiveness is viewed as fleece clothing
to bear skins
sin cloaked in naked pride
Warmly showing forth utter soft, sheer love
will get an Abel body devoured by crocodile eyes
Whose gator jaws have teeth
sharp as knives
Carnivore minded thinkers believe those
with the most leopard spots
will claw ruthlessly
to the genome mountaintop
But, my bleating heart
was verily, second Adam told
this was not so
From the dawn mist of Eden’s birth,
the first paradise promise
spoke the Gospel truth —
That the meek will inherit the Earth
New Age Sadducees tout,
how the wolves were gonna turn
the Moon glow red
Make the ewe reflection of the sunlight
get darkened instead
Tho’ the Son still shine on the wolfsbane,
genetic scorners mock in vain ...
Derisively baring the fang,
spouting ebb-and-flow abysmal theories
Cloned Dolly insane
Boast howl those silver tongues
were green changing, cheatah fast,
the wavy blue to bright crimson
Like grisly paw mouths of the past
Raptor grip moneychangers
who prey devoured the pray fittest least —
Faith impoverished lost sheep,
who idol strayed
into the coin belly of the beast
But, my poor, bleating heart
was verily, verily, Lamb of God boldly Amen told:
The pyramid scheme/food chain feast,
to saber tooth prowl
evilly for eternity,
won’t ever Last Supper be Red Sea parted possible
Oh, my bleating heart
was verily, verily, double blessed told:
That the Resurrection Exodus was in the sheepfold
Good Shepherd voice activated, ready to go
Yes, my enriched, bleating heart
was surely comforted gently by buried wisdom gold
Three-day-old alabaster ointment
(that was dirt price sold)
caught the tiger by the evolutionary tale,
I was so graciously Only Begotten revival pulse told
Mercy green pastures of meek hope
wasn’t grazed for woolly naught
Ere crucifixion teardrop thought
got turned into a beautiful, Salvation pearl
When every saintly flock
closed eye awaken joyously,
(with bloodstain-free,
sin clean fleece,)
there will be no predators in the new world
When Moses came down from Sinai carrying the tablets of God’s law,
The holy words engraved upon the physical stones,
He heard his people singing songs of jubilation
In their camp at the foot of the mountain.
They had gathered up their stores of precious gold
And made a tangible idol to worship,
A beautiful thing to see and touch,
To still their fears that Moses might never return
From the fiery mountaintop.
Moses flew into a rage beyond all controlling.
He threw down those precious tablets,
The Divine words shattered at his feet.
And Moses tore down the golden idol,
Broke it into pieces,
Burned the pieces in a furnace,
Mixed the ashes with water,
And made the people drink it.
The taste bitter in their mouths,
A reminder of the bitter years of slavery
They had so soon forgotten.
Then Moses went up a second time to Sinai.
He carved new stones and engraved again the words
That God had told him once before.
And when, at last, he came down from the mountain,
His face was radiant like the rising sun.
The people put those holy tablets in an Ark
To carry with them throughout their travels.
They wrote the words upon their hearts,
And became a light for all the nations.
The Bible never tells what happened to those broken tablets,
The fractured remnants of God’s first teaching.
Did the people leave them in the desert?
Are they still out there, waiting for history to find?
The Rabbis teach that the people gathered up those broken pieces
And placed them lovingly in the Ark – side by side with the whole ones.
Wherever they went, those shards reminded them
Of their past failings and lack of faith at the foot of Sinai,
And that God had let Moses go up the mountain another time.
Our lives are not so different now
Though many centuries removed from the camp at Sinai.
We, too, carry a load of broken pieces in our hearts,
Precious gifts we once had squandered,
Things of value that were neglected,
Trifles we once had cherished,
And opportunities that were lost.
We are each a mingling of the broken and the whole.
Those shattered pieces help make us what we are.
The pain and loss, the memories and the longing
For what will never come again.
Yet even in our grief we must always remember
The greatest gift of all God’s bounty
Was a second chance.
UPROOTED
“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.”--------------------Rumi
listen not to the vagrant zephyr
seeking only sustenance of its kind
idol thinkers lolling in innocence
swayed by every whispering sigh
unaware – that secrets lie.
“We put the urn aboard ship.”---------------------------------------Sappho
Single struggling sapling
scented with the longings of leaving,
kissed by the roots of a family’s tree
adrift on a sea of doubt
holding true to its native soil.
“Wherever I am, the world comes to me.”-----------------------Mary Oliver
An ocean lapping at the shores of time’s fleeting gusts
enticing us to come aboard, sail her winds
dance the song of the gentle rains
shelter in her wooded arms and cliffs
wait as her horizon’s greet my welcome.
“the moon is a curving flower of gold.”---------------------------Sara Teasdale
grinning in the pilfered beauty of sunlight
stolen from beyond earth’s curving crust
hanging its crescent hook for lover’s
to ponder in the midst of loving’s lust
petals falling in the path of daybreaks rush.
“I like my body when it is with your”…memory-------------------e.e. cummings
tingling with the cold salt spray of
breakers overpowering the sand
softly kissing the edges ……frothily spent
bubbling beneath the screech of gulls
nestled into the arms of home
“the apparition of these faces in the crowd”-------------------------Ezra Pound
vague faces of unknown forebears
yellowing in time’s smoky rooms
stern faces seeking a future
young faces – now grown old
dancing on the branches of a tree.
“The tree is here, still, in pure stone” ----------------------------------Pablo Neruda
troubled roots strengthened by hardship
searching life’s invisible pathways
meeting pressure with practiced patience
offering shade, and presence
touching granite’s hardened heart.
John G. Lawless
7/24/2015
“Wherever I am, the world comes to me.” Mary Oliver
“the apparition of these faces in the crowd.” Ezra Pound
”I like my body when it is with your….” e.e. cummings
“The tree is here, still, in pure stone,” Pablo Neruda
“We put the urn aboard ship.” Sappho
“the moon is a curving flower of gold.” Sara Teasdale
“the breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.” Rumi
Step right up it's all the rage,
it's the dawning of a brand new age.
The wonderful world of Iron and Clay,
finally our time to shine, let's not delay.
Come get in line and get your chip,
you'll have the world at your fingertips.
Head or hand it's all up to you,
you'll be a brand new man, when we're through.
No more need for cards or cash to buy or sell,
just scan your head or hand, it will never fail.
With this tiny implant things will change,
the possibilities are just insane.
The whole world now we'll be able to track,
no lost children and that's a good fact.
Crime will plummet under this global plan,
it's hard to break the law without head or hand.
The medical wonders, too many to count,
with these devices your health is paramount.
We will be able to fix failing organs and missing limbs,
with electronic replacements built within.
All these things will extend your life,
a fountain of youth and no more strife.
All of your hand held devices at your command,
it's all in one, right in your head or hand.
Now this new age comes with faith as well,
no more talk about heaven or hell.
We will have heaven on earth it's true,
a regular garden of eden for me and you.
All religions and denominations will be as one,
a universal faith and a God that's fun.
Fire and brimstone will be no more,
come to our temple through the ecumenical door.
Your sins will be forgiven before they are committed,
the things in the Bible you don't like, just omit it.
We want the church to finally conform,
to this wonderful world and all its norms.
Our worship will be without constraints,
do what feels good, we are all saints.
No dress code needed in this place,
in fact nude is considered in good taste.
Political correction will be our doctrine,
no more punishment for those who sin.
We will not worship things unseen,
but an idol once thought to be obscene.
Now I think we've sold you on our vision,
to come together as one, without derision.
Man has finally reached the summit
and become a god, that even God could covet.
" Beaware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's
clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. " - Matthew 7:15