Long Instigating Poems
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March 17 Scripture Meditations Based on 2Kings 1-5
Key Verse – 2Kings 2:3 And the sons of the prophets that were at Bethel came forth to Elisha, and said unto him, Knowest thou that the LORD will take away thy master from thy head to day? And he said, Yea, I know it; hold ye your peace.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR TAKING ME AWAY TOWARD YOU
Thank You for taking me away toward You from what You forbid
Against sinfulness, obnoxiously gruesome of effects that are morbid
So that I can forsake wickedness that’s sordid
By Your holiness where You bid me that’s biblically candid.
Thank You for taking me away toward You from what You don’t support
Against falsities, deceitfully bringing evil report
So that I can bear fruit with Your favor’s comfort
By Your grace where You bless me in Your provision-fort.
Thank You for taking me away toward You from what You hate
Against idolatry, fatally alluring as a satanic bait
So that I can stand with conviction for Your mandate
By Your love where You pull me inside Your fellowship’s gate.
Thank You for taking me away toward You from what You don’t approve
Against hypocrisy, obviously hiding in meekness’ cloak You disapprove
So that I can repent sincerely with my earnestness to prove
By Your wisdom where You check me as my bad motives You reprove.
Thank You for taking me away toward You from what You defy
Against rebellion, perilously instigating my disobedience to intensify
So that I can follow Your instructions and Your name glorify
By Your power where You place me to testify.
Thank You for taking me away toward You from what You don’t enforce
Against slothfulness, definitely leaving me fruitless in my spiritual course
So that I can work hard as faithful stewardship You endorse
By Your guidance where You lead upon Your strength’s source.
March 17, 2022
Unrelenting blitzkrieg deadly
assault upon psyche
pounded defenseless
vulnerable mindscape accustomed
to shelter within aproned crease
mama proffered manna, especially
when untethered meek docile lad
subjected to blistering hellfire
infamous hoodlums wantonly unleashed
verbal bombardments lobbing poison
spear tipped invisible blackened barbs
manifold times more agonizing
piercing, targeting, xraying...
guaranteed fatal skull and crossbones
unseen insignia wrought utmost damage
one hundred percent accuracy
ferociously besieging, jackknifing, pummeling...
successfully character assassinating,
a diminutive boy cursed with ideal traits
strongly tempted, delectably savored,
violently bullied (short of physical
stature violated, though seditious)
emotional violation wrought lifelong
oppressive worthlessness complimented
amply by absolute zero self confidence
distilled thru conception in utero
until parturition on a bitterly cold
January thirteenth (apparently small,
medium forces at large, sans right
buffalo wing conspiracy) instigating
ear splitting wailing testing threshold
of tolerance, no crying game, but
palpable anatomical and physiological
dislocations afflicting yours truly
with breathing difficulty courtesy
submucous cleft palate pronouncing
strong nasality, when acquiring speaking
ability more cause to ridicule upon
commencing attendance within Lower
Providence School District, where kids
said nastiest, meanest, foulest, cruelest...
unsolicited comments pointedly jabbing air
mocking severe twang plus pigeon toed gait
the latter rectified with custom made
contrivance crafted by papa that forced
little feet turned outward during sleep,
which less significant aberration became
corrected as I got older, but self shaming
and blaming assimilated thru incessant
intimidation, inundation, invitation...
passive personality tacitly allowed,
provided, and enabled entire classroom
to assail helpless looking human creature
'pon entering home burst into tears!
The Dark Side of October
Late October moon is waking, through this cemetery shaking,
shaking as the cold wind breaking, walking ‘neath an old oak tree.
Stones like sentries undertaking, guarding graves as hearts are aching,
aching for the still ones staking, such an eerie sight to see –
dark and dreary, I’m so leery, such an eerie sight to see –
is this but a reverie?
In the graveyard shadows shimmer, dark of night is growing dimmer,
dimmer still without a glimmer, shadows ‘round the old oak tree.
Shadows dancing ever nearer, nearer still and getting clearer,
clearer like distorted mirror, twisting ghastly sight to see –
growing vastly, looming lastly, such a ghastly sight to see –
certainly a reverie?
Piercing sounds are penetrating, ear drums deafening pulsating,
ringing louder, devastating, echoes off the old oak tree.
Echoes bouncing screeching grating, ever louder agitating,
instigating, fears creating, from this ghoulish sight to see –
Am I mulish, maybe foolish, such a ghoulish sight to see –
surely just a reverie?
In the dark my head is spinning, round and round these sights imprinting,
fusing on my brain beginning, questioning my sanity.
All these sights and sounds are weighing, weighing as the ghouls are playing
playing as they do their preying, preying on my vanity –
I am praying, ghouls are swaying, preying on my vanity –
have I lost my sanity?
Eerie night just seems persisting, lasting as my mind is twisting,
waiting for daylight’s assisting, lighting up the old oak tree.
Eerie sights and sounds now fading, dark of night for daylight trading,
light of day is now invading, leaving me to clearly see –
seeing nearly, life so dearly, oh so clearly now I see –
must have been a reverie…..
or have I lost my sanity?
July 26, 2018
I have the rhythm of a winding road
how do I consign myself to being confined...
rows of poplar pillars prop
rendezvous canopies beneath we meet
—I self-cajole on ooh-la-la afternoon
yellow eyes; daffodils watching
lean into gossip groups nodding
a prodding breeze instigating deep-freeze—
I am a sweet weed in this place of sway and betray
with a stranger I stroll my arranged betrothed
height of his black top hat challenges trees
much like Corinthian columns
guards of an aisle I must walk —dear God! must walk
trepidation trips down my bridal spinal column
tiger eyes; lilies watching wish they were me
dare they dream they could uproot their roots like me
wish they could wedding waltz like I must —like I must
but their envy-leaves remain embrace-less
—I secretly envy lilies’ arms empty of yet unmet love
daffodils; empty-headed —laugh
they try to read my mind to fill their own
what do I care of their curdled thoughts lemon tart
and orange lilies’ with their brocade brimstone
what do I fear of fire-breathers burn of words
undergrowth feels the square heels of my lace-up boots
post impression grows more expressive than first—
beware French tongues of sundew and burdock burr
marriage-carriage rolls in ruts to Versailles
where my coerced corset of hooks and ties lie
rhythm of a winding road dies in minuet strangle-hold
Freedom is a golden treasure,
A dignified path for humanity
That cut through issues of diversity
Instigating moments of reflection
To look back and say, ‘I am’
Freedom is a charitable act,
Empowering people to rediscover their being,
Understand that they are worthy of being alive-
That they could reform the world,
And add meaning to those around them
Freedom is the start of an aspiring journey
A pathway to greatness
Opening doors for opportunities
Everyone getting a lifeline to stand-up
And march all the way to land of wonders
Freedom is a course for justice
A platform for empowerment
Injecting liveliness to human routines
It is a call for rejuvenation,
To place kindness back on the list
Like Long journey in the unpredictable oceans;
Freedom is electrifying means of hope
Instilling fire within the human spirit
To visualize far away beyond sloppy hills
And never to undermine the course of humanity,
But keep it burning for eternity
I'd rather see her doing something her talent can reach. A play for God,
a message for humanity, but that's just me. You want to talk about coverage? Our receivers ain't receiving? Specifically? Candace Owens ( like a Biblical Esther to me)..... especially intelligent, especiale de destiny. If blessfully she smiles on us (winks) as she speaks. That's the arena of significan(t)t ?We. Oui!?
its just a game, football that is, try working for a living, have some humility,
are you a hero of some kind of military?
a force of "1"?
Like LeBron "home" James, never supported by no one. Not allowed to play a game for a living by humanity?
No Momma? No fans to allow the freedom to get your game on?
What next? Black "Carolina" Panther instead of Cam (someones son) Newton?
I thought you wanted belief that 'youre just like me'
I guess when stereotypes suit you
the ones that build you up,
for a leg up on opportunity
that you keep like an ace....up your sleeve
it's the picking and the choosing,
inconsistency, that get's to me
it will hard serve to refute you eventually
as youre baskin in the limelight
robbin respect from working people,
like a demigod warrior?
but your lids too tight, jaws too hotwired,
we know your feet are light
you got a v12 in you cam and too many cars in your foyer
12 inches better than any other in the other races of man?
going top shelf with your redirect, and icing on your hands.
when the double standard is double dipping, stepping over the line
with finger flip topping sprinkled in,
instigating race again among the havenots of mankind
paranoid of those who are even your fankind
(my fashionably late xmas greeting
could long foster for this century 21 a meeting
of thee poetic minds pleasantry sent once
boot not worth reap peat ting).
up in the air
mine barrel sized girth
sloshes with cheap beer
wishing many strangers
happy holidays and good cheer
making me suitable
as santa claus and his team of rein deer
chewing gum to avoid
popping in both left and right ear
yet the rickety sleigh
may not become air borne I fear
landing ungracefully
scattering presents and gear
if wooden contraption alights,
a horrendous crash many will hear
no doubt instigating
children and adults to jeer
comparing this jolly fellow to king lear
yet running for the hills
as this mad man gets considerably near
the madding crowd,
who expected a more
healthy saint nick to a pear
with healthy physique
instead of the trademark outsize rear
which cause for observers
to guffaw and sneer
whereby my trademark suit
will seemingly tear
and reveal that this clown
wears frilly under wear
prompting me to avoid
accepting this role for next year.
12/14/20
Since the dawn of time it was illustrating
One was dominating
The other was failing
There was no relating
Only hating
And instigating
All this debating
And complaining
With poor negotiating
To the youth, what are we demonstrating?
So much division and not a lot of aiding
Sure there is some trading
But there is also raiding
And invading
To this day, time has shown and been displaying
It's dismaying
Opportunities seized or are fading
Does no good to just be waiting
People playing
People saying
Strange things
Evil in the making
Homages their paying
As they partake in praying
On the go or staying
Peaceful or always preying
Money continually draining or saving
To the system still slaving
Soon to be caving
And misbehaving
One's own path they're paving
And trailblazing
Or they are just waiving
Never braving
Always giving into cravings
Wasting
Always in last they are placing
Too many people shading
And shaming
Truth is life is fascinating
And entertaining
Yet it is also devastating
And frustrating
With other lifeforms, I am communicating
Continually sailing
Working towards prevailing
As I keep aging
The body slowly degrading
In my heart it's always raining
But I am not complaining
Occasionally stargazing
Still facing any undertaking
Life I'm embracing
B.S. I can no longer be chasing
Look around, life can be beautiful and amazing
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat
I am overcome with a sense of dread,
when hearing talk of that leg injury.
It becomes an atrocious time machine
throwing me viciously on to my couch.
Will it ever feel like normal again?
I wish I could just flush bad memories.
My mind is now flooded with memories
and I am vibrating with rhythmic dread.
I’m stuck in a fractured body again,
frozen in place with a rough injury.
Miserable and crazed on an old couch
my mind is back to a high-low machine.
I’m not able to tailor the machine
to only play back happy memories.
I cannot simply throw away a couch
to avoid a head full of instant dread.
That piece stolen by a chance injury
lets me know I’ll never be whole again.
I would love to be my old self again,
not repaired by a doctor or machine.
It’s me I made it through an injury,
but I’m done being cuffed to memories.
An overactive mind detailing dread
happens at a certain spot on the couch.
Oh, horribly uncomfortable couch!
Here they all come emerging once again.
Why is furniture setting off this dread?
It’s not a doctor’s surgical machine,
still it calls back my fading memories.
I’m haunted by this ghost of injury.
I just want to bleed out this injury,
let myself relax on my cozy couch.
Now I am cursed with levied memories
whenever I lie back and try again.
I’ve got to silence the roaring machine
that’s instigating this feeling of dread.
These memories bring chronic injury
that is fusing my dread into this couch.
A Phantom raised again by my machine.