Long Inattention Poems
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I was a soul born in chaos
my beginnings and consciousness infinitesimal
I have been blasted by forces
outside of my own natures call
and yet I can see the raw beginning
of a mind fluid
with the elements of the cosmos
this "life" has been an experience of
implosions , explosions , explorations
bombardment , impartment , eruption
corruption , inattention , and deliberations
my consciousness is aware of it's implications
my judgments categorize the experiences
such as a minute star is transformed
by the particles and forces
to which it is subjected
So too are we
but cosmological law
is annulled in it's full power
when in contact with chaos
I am fully cognizant of both
moral and cosmological law
I can jump off a cliff
or commit violence upon humans
I can actually pervert
the substance of cosmos where I reside
instead of planting , growing , harmonizing
refining my alignment with nature
I can poison , deform and subject
every participation to destruction
and as long as mankind's children
continue in the predator mentality
of their six thousand year experiments
of every violation of that which they should love
I am in total agreement with nature
that which is destructive to growth
needs removal , only with mankind
removal is "replacement" of ideology
a transformation of perspective and viewpoints
where the mind finds it desirable
to increase the beauty of LIFE
and not to poison it's fluid
the superlative and majestic cosmos
that our tinkering seeks to dissect
manipulate , rearrange it's manifestations
and in reflection this one thought
is of itself an infinitesimal insignificance
when standing before the face of LIFE
but it is my thought , my mind and
created by the most intensive force that
exists among mankind , LOVE of LIFE
HOPE in LIFE , and the seeking of every
manifestation of it's Glory
no man has seen God
but we at great length consider
all that we may perceive that to be ...
COPYRIGHT © 2015
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence
I’m stealing through a twilit realm, the ancient pale of Whereis,
passing chambers of an Heiress
(though no need to feel embarrassed)
through a magic mystic mirror hanging curtainless.
A glimpse near naked alleyways (denuded by the moon) ex-
poses Ghosts in gauzy tunics
carving symbols, round and runic,
in distended dingy dungeons of uncertainness.
Down misty streets of cobblestone – ancestral avenues –
patchwork paths consume my shoes
(chasing foggy curlicues
twisting, twirling by in twos,
floating anywhere they choose),
leaving footprints that confuse
vagrant wispy retinues
of the threaded wooden sticks that stalk a Puppet wandering.
Condensed in drops of fantasy, distilled in evening dew,
shifting Shadows I pursue
(wearing faces I once knew,
slipping slowly from my view)
turn their backs to bid adieu
leaving stars to tempt me through
Awful Tower residues
mocking treasures time outgrew
in the birth of old from new
framing pageants in review
midst the visions of the painted past I can’t help pondering.
Contorted candelabra claw the skyline’s walled suspension
caught in twilight’s intervention
– still unlit (in stark dissension),
therefore seething with a tension
in the quiet apprehension
of the Watchman’s inattention
to the night-time’s bold pretension
to her power, not to mention,
to her hyperspace extension
(far beyond my comprehension
of the sundown’s bleak dimension) –
on exhausted beaten boulevards of foolish fretfulness.
Oblivion depletes me, voiding haste and hurried hassles,
me, a simple abject vassal,
trailing moonlit floating castles,
– fickle feet, but fingers facile
grasping straws and pendant tassels –
as I stumble through the rubble of forgetfulness.
I think I must be dreaming as I seem to see these things,
neath a sky alive with wings
(hear the Nightingale, she sings),
midst the whispered murmurings
soughed by Phantoms clad as Kings
pacing palaces in rings,
while their hapless footfall clings
to the sagging sinking sands of midnight’s splintered splattered ruins.
Entangled in the swirling leaves that spin in dizzy flurries,
(while the wind beside me scurries
as an ermined hermit hurries)
lurk my sleepy woes and worries
(glowing faint’ but growing blurry)
which, when plundered by the demon dusk, I’d left behind me strewn.
Continued in Part 2
Never know what lays unseen till you dare
Exit through the door I have feared so long
Weaving such a tale that has no compare
Beautiful destruction my life's theme song
Each time I boldly rise from the wreckage
Ghosts I thought laid to rest try to follow
Inattention quells their silent message
Not known to balk or in pity wallow
New cities and places excitation
Inside me grows, my soul's motivation
Needs constant motion without cessation
Great things are possible all in their time
Savoring all moments lightens the climb
01/22/2021
New beginnings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
To ponder why,
In deep dismay
To Daydreaming in the stream of consciousness
Mixed in mind and heart desires
That detaches from current task and test,
Don’t quit your daydream
Trance aid fantasy
Intervision encapsulates me
Hallucination musing
Don’t quit your daydream
Imagining inattention gathers
Inattentiveness woolgathering preoccupation
Don’t quit your daydream
Emotional brooding
Obliviousness engrossment
absentmindedness Self-absorption
absence of mind
staring into space
abstraction
Don’t quit your daydream
lack of concentration lack of application
figment of the imagination
unrealizable dream Home is castle in the air
Wishful thinking fond hopes Self-absorption
Wishing upon…
Whatever it is Don’t quit your daydream
11/22/2022
For Don't Quit Your Daydream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
“By Design”
By design
other dimensions
astonishing alien fields
different shades
of dark and light
intradimensional beings
strange lives
surround us
we are oblivious
to their invisible kingdoms
their unique opinions
their different addictions
their mysterious freedoms
part of ours, under cover
in our infected delirium
dissolving over-rated
control and power
dissolving
food for thought
dissolving
seconds in minutes
in hours
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“I divide
In the sky
In the seams
Between the beams
All the loving
And separating
All the turning
To face each other …”
delirium.
“The CAM diagnostic algorithm evaluates four key features of delirium: 1) Acute Change in Mental Status with Fluctuating Course, 2) Inattention, 3) Disorganised Thinking, and 4) Altered Level of Consciousness.”
intradimensional -v- interdimensional
I reckon I've seen about everything in my nigh four-score years.
Obnoxious teens, obnoxious elders and unpleasant Wall-Mart cashiers,
And those baggy pants with the crotch nearly reaching to the knees,
But folks with a cell phone in their ear compare to none of these!
Some people sport spiked hair dyed orange, red or green.
Others with rings piercing their lips - a weird sight to be seen!
Gorgeous ladies flaunt tacky tattoos that seem mighty *****.
Plus all of that, they have a cell phone glued to the ear!
Vexatious ringtones on some cellular phones cause me to cringe,
'Specially if in a fine bistro or church my serenity they impinge!
The "William Tell Overture" in a concert is mighty fine to hear,
But please spare me that tinny tune from the cell phone in your ear!
Some use their cell phones while driving - to all others oblivious,
Never minding that such inattention could be very injurious!
Seems to me 'twould be tricky trying to concentrate and steer,
With that consarned cellular phone sticking in the ear!
Cell phones are an improvement in communications, I suppose,
With their music, cameras, computers and a dial that glows.
But, alas, for future generations I often wonder and fear:
Will babes be born with a cell phone protruding from the ear?
Entry for Simon Rogerson's "Let's Explore Digital Technology" Contest
(13 Feb 22)
He had a sneaky tongue,
it bent around his molars
like a serpentine noodle.
His Adams apple
was an ever-shifting abacus
that calculated words
as if they were untethered beads.
Mathematics were his
clinical persuasion,
a laudable science
he hammered
into a sterile
impregnable language
for bespectacled cyborgs,
for he (the Bradly),
daily taught snotty tykes
who ponged of sticky,
childish proclivities.
Some teach, some
kill the ozone of eager minds.
We kids and Mr. Bradly
were never meant
for each other,
but he did instruct us
in the oily arts of
disinterest,
indifference,
and inattention.
wind whispers her inattention
as I stand staring at you
looking into an open window
that doesn't seem to be breathing any air
i reach for your pureness
imagining what could appear
the hollow of the daylight
hidden in the darkness
attempting to disappear
I stroke your amiable cheek
kissing you softly
without hesitation nor fear
the keys on the piano play in the background
alternating from black then white
alluring, as darkness is to light
a sensual serenity succumbing
to feeling, we both know
is right
your head rests upon my shoulder
I whisper my attention
holding on
forever tight
A long-lasting friendship is a great river, flowing from a high and distant source. Its origin may be a mountain spring, a chance meeting in youth, or an unexpected turn in the landscape of life.
In its youth, the river rushes and tumbles over rocks, a torrent of shared laughter, inside jokes, and boundless energy. It carves its initial path with the force of shared experiences and the excitement of the unknown journey ahead. It is shallow then, easily rippled by small disagreements or the changing seasons of life, but its current is strong and true.
As it flows onward, the river deepens and broadens. The rushing energy settles into a steady, reliable current. It winds through meadows of peace and reflection, and carves through canyons of hardship and sorrow. Sometimes the river faces obstacles: dams of distance, drought of inattention, or the branching off into different professional or personal tributaries.
Yet the main current persists, finding a way around or through, its direction constant. Tributaries join along the way, new friends and family enriching the flow, but the core river remains. The water that began as a spring is now a deep, powerful body, a life source for the surrounding landscape. It is a mirror reflecting the passing clouds of joy and the storm clouds of sadness.
In its maturity, the river becomes an estuary, vast and calm, where fresh water meets the salt of time and memory. The journey has shaped the banks and the land around it, creating a rich ecosystem of mutual support, shared history, and unwavering trust. The destination is not a precipitous fall into an end, but a grand, peaceful merging with the great sea, where the individual current becomes part of the endless, timeless ocean of enduring connection.
The powers,
the powers 'that be'
wish to thank you
for your on-going servitude,
for your compliance,
conformity,
acquiescence,
gullibility,
subservience,
apathy,
disinterest,
inattention,
and your willful or blind ignorance.
We gratefully accept
your abject submission
as we strive to eradicate
all opposition
and discussion.
You are the very best of sheep,
the most loyal of lambs.
We applaud your
naiveté and lack of interest
in our secretive regime.
We keep your secrets
so you do not have to.
May you continue to serve us
as we
subject,
bamboozle,
hornswoggle,
flimflam,
demonize,
pander,
patronize,
denigrate,
dismiss,
disrespect,
defame.
derogate,
discount,
dishonor,
disparage,
vilify,
slander,
mislead,
misuse,
misdirect,
misinform,
malign,
smear,
conceal,
cover-up
and deceive you all.