Long Interfering Poems
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The 6-year-old-boy had strong feeling, all mad and bad.
Not realizing they all came from a well of sad.
He was angry and ready to fight every friend he almost had.
Other children shunned him, they quite casually labelled him “bad”.
The teachers threw him out of class, daily, because he was a cad.
Class without him, felt a little more cheerful and glad.
They did not care that all that mad came from a life of sad.
We sometimes got him back to class a little less mad.
But could never deal with the real issue, because he would not admit to sad.
He had been taught at his house that all outsiders are interfering and pretty bad.
There was a lot of pressure from his family to show us his best mad and his bad.
Because no one there wanted to face the reality of their big awful sad.
It's what I do best,
doing whatever it is,
alone.
Not having to worry about
interfering with other people.
No one needs to go out of their
way for me.
Yet I seem to have people
ask, "why?".
I ask, "why not?"
Some ask me why do I not
offer others,
invite them to what I do.
The sad truth is,
I do.
I am cancelled on,
blatantly ignored,
given every excuse
imaginable.
Then I end up doing what
I planned to do,
alone.
Why must I create heartache
when none is needed?
Why must I get hopes up
of people wanting to spend
time with me?
Why should I ask people
when all I get is a "No....."?"
Why spend one more second
thinking about the countless
number of rejections I receive?
Maybe this is why I prefer
my solo act.
Fifth dose, same overdose
I've got a nasty habit of gorging on low hanging fruit
It's fruit, right? Gotta be sweet
But these grapes are sour and apples bitter
But a rotten orange is a delicious feast
For those starved of the taste and sensation of being full
Yet that same rotten orange
Cannot be a diet unto itself
Yet for eight long years
I've satisfied myself with rotten, sour fruit
After all, I am the Sun of this greenhouse
And skin cancer awaits all who bathe in the light for too long
It's never enough and can never be enough
So long as this cycle continues
Eventually, someone is going to overdose and die
And leave the entire farm with blood on its soil
These are my familiar trappings
An addiction to touch and the need to belong
And to shoulder the weight of two lives
And break beneath it, leaving us both hollow
I don't claim innocence
As I promise far too much for one human to deliver
Yet if given the chance to be excised safely
I'll bear my weight solo gladly
Some people are not meant to be united
My role is ever more abundant as the days bleed together
To deliver content and entertainment from behind the screen
As a benevolent God that cannot be met
Many tragedies are born from gods interfering with men
And thus, he hides in his Heaven where all can be alright
And as a frail man clinging to a title for power
So too shall I hide.
Who the hell is Etty Ket
To keep interfering in my life?
I keep hearing its not Etty Ket
From my very soon to be wife.
I bet she was a Victorian
With a long pointy nose
Red flanellette bloomers
And long stripey hose.
One of those very worthies
Who, year after year
Just couldn't resist
That urge to interfere.
Oh the embarrassments
At odd times of my life,
Eating soup with the wrong spoon
Or fish with the wrong knife.
I've laughed when I shouldn't,
Wished that I was dead,
Stood there in horror
Face glowing scarlet red,
Having absently committed
Some perceived heinous crime,
Just an ignorant peasant
Trapped by the rules of
A more stiff and formal time.
Etty Ket thanks to you
I've gone through times of stress
But now I've reached an age
When I couldn't care any less.
So now I wear desert wellies
All the year round
And I wear odd socks
When a pair can’t be found,
Spill food down my pullie
And don’t give a damn
Take it or leave it
For I am what I am.
Life’s too short to worry
You’re dismissed out of hand,
Farewell Etty Kett, get back
To your Cloud Cuckoo Land.
Poverty and rage is all he sees
in a furtive,doleful glance,
and the brightly-colored lights
cannot console the wretched soul
of his malnourished,shivering body:
bundled up in rags and visible to all
the hurriendly and careless passerbys,
who seem blind in their own pretense...
He rejects the mournful sounds
interfering with his needed sleep;
and yet,he lifts his drooping head
to peak around the wratful trees
to assure himself that
the wooden and metal shack
is well-secured and safe;
his numberless doubts delve deep...
In the middle of a furious February,
winter has failed to invite the generous sun
to warm up his frosty home so run-down;
an impoverished home in which he repulsed luck
that could have turned his life around;
his regret is an unremissible remedy:
consumed by a wishful valor
that ended in bitter squalor....
Rotten Apple
Rotten Apple
Go Sit Your Butt Down
Your Cord is getting eating down
morning noon and night
by that worm from all those lies you told
Your rotten apple raining on everyone’s parade
Because you can’t seem to get what you want
So take my advice to leave everyone else dreams alone
leave and stop telling everyone else to leave
and take your own advice
and think about leaving yourself
What's your favorite saying
Why don’t you leave
Why don’t you leave
thinking that’s a way of moving up
by trying to make everyone else leave
Rotten Bad Apple to the cord
Trying to gain the center of attention platform
Here is an award for trying to
Make the center of attention for everything
The plans that God got for me is for me
and what
God got a plan for you is for you
Find your own plans for your own life
Stop looking into my window including my visions
My dreams are my dreams
My visions are my visions
My plans are my plans
Stop interfering and
find your own plans, dreams, visions
because you feel insecure and messed up about not
carefully planning out your life
Screaming at everyone one asking them to leave
because you thinking you going to get a quick come up
It doesn’t matter if they leave or stay a plan from God
has to be delivered
Trust me God will make sure that an individual
accomplish a plan
even if it’s a shortcut
No matter what you do or say
I smell you a mile away
and see the worms popping out your faces from all those lies you told
Do yourself a favor created your own window and visions
And quit interfering with everyone else plans including mine
Rotten Bad Apple to the cord that
worm been eating you down morning noon night
It’s about time you come clean with
your life and stop hiding
behind everyone else ‘s
It’s about time you change your plans and get your own life, and stay out of mine
Stop looking like a bewitch in a trap house and get your own life
Rotten Apple
Rotten Apple
Go Sit Your Butt Down
Your Cord is getting eating down
morning noon and night
by that worm from all those lies you told
By Shaniki L. Smith
Oct 21, 2018
who pulls our breath
and then exhales
rhythmically
by day and night
to find out
we follow the breath
becoming one with the flow
without interfering
silence
makes breath shallow
akin to sleep mode
in the waking state
if breath is erratic
it signals thoughts are present
so we keep watching
until all becomes quiet
we feel magnetism
and nodes within tingle
we celebrate without seeking
delighting in the play
we remain in the bardo
of object bereft no-thingness
feeling fontanel portal
throb with God’s vital force
the energy grid comes alive
soma nectar flows as it likes
grazing all nodes impartially
we become the current itself
in timeless time we return
opening our eyes slowly
feeling the humming renew
its divine caress so sublime
in the inky black void
we are as we are therein
bereft of senses we see nothing
and yet know we are herein not alone
our awareness thus in formlessness
communicates with the absolute
as a child speaks to his father
there is no apprehension
all that that is is playfulness
all our questions are answered
and our innermost desires resolved
albeit with a pregnant pause if we err
by interfering with prior soul agreements
in this unfathomable bardo of no-thingness
the enigmatic living darkness of oneness
we may liken to being within a womb
wherein we feel safe and tended
suffused by tenderness of awareness
having full freedom to remain thus forever
or to feel again realms of colour and contrast
donning veil of ego to reenter deep hypnotic trance
as time goes by in repeated immersion and emergence
the underlying truth of the dark void becomes clear
being in truth a singularity without any reflection
and thereby to mind appearing as darkness
for once our core is caressed by The Holy Spirit
and illusionary identity conjured totally disappears
we find that all that is, is self-existent eternal living light
which we always were, are and will be for all time
Slipping away.
Drifting into a state of unconsciousness
Where the id, the ego and the superego merge in their own perverted world:
Free of inhibition;
Free of intentional thought;
Free of other senses interfering with the unfettered mind.
No physical barriers;
No interjections from other’s prejudices –
Just our own pre-conceived biases and misconceptions.
Rapid eye movements indicating an active mind;
While the body rests, the imagination lives on.
Colors? Perhaps.
Based on experiences and reality? Possibly. Probably not.
Free to dream in any form – no rules apply.
Mostly forgotten when consciousness returns;
Much to our dismay.
Doing what we do as a doer, we tend to sway
Owing to lower ego urges thus interfering
Knowing seeing is believing, as scriptures say
Becoming by non-doing, presence free flowing
Delighting in myriad hues of love manifest
Vivifying elixir divine, magnetising our form
Transcending mind body by ceasing to resist
Imbibing waves of ineffable bliss in swarms
Resting thought, abiding in pure awareness
Emptying out consciousness contracting toxins
Going along with the flow of love in blissfulness
Dancing with joy as bliss throb within heightens
Beginning thus in pristine stillness and silence
Transitioning to fullness by bliss percolation
Scintillating is the purity of childlike innocence
Drawing in divine grace in playful celebration
22-November-2020