Long Overstepping Poems
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Mired in muck. Appendageless.
Sinking in shadowy whispers.
Surviving is senseless.
Eternity is a marathon with no bathrooms, no water, no finish.
I pray for light, Satan pulls the shades
No hope, no truth, no tomorrow.
I need a friend to throw me a lifeline
But they are all busy avoiding the muck.
Spinning on their cotton candy bridges.
They spew their words gilded with silk and honey
Dripping from forked tongues.
It's not until the subtle meanings catch the wind and scatter that the honey turns dark,
And thick, and makes their teeth black and their hearts dull.
I wait for the splash as another like me has had her life's bridge eaten by the acid of jealousy and fear.
She screams, "THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE!"
And the muck bubbles and shifts exultant
As it silences her cries and extinguishes her fire.
Laughter falls like shards of glass from above,
Because they know the truth but never speak it.
An unwritten oath that all jail keepers vow.
Lock the truth away like a bird in a cage until its colors fade, its feathers fall, and music is only a memory.
A man dangles from a swinging cord
Halfway between the mockers and the muck.
His white collar hurts our eyes
Smooth words of redemption that almost awaken my sleeping emotions.
But then the cord breaks, and faced with the truth of our existence
The man flees back to the bridge
Our heads his stepping stones as he escapes to the sterility above.
His collar stays white,
His hands clean.
His memory is short -- he doesn't even remember why he came.
Or who sent him. He is the lucky one.
Memory haunts me. I long to forget:
How to love
How to hurt
How to breathe.
My cocoon of woe promises no future flight
It's a straight jacket of hate
And my prayers just bounce off the padded walls.
I need a knight; I get only night.
I need a hand; I get a slap.
I need understanding; I get overstepping.
I know three things:
1. Nothing will ever be the same.
2. I will never trust again.
3. You cannot will a heart to stop beating.
Sleep is my only friend, death my only goal.
That is the truth that will set me free.
Drink deep from an uncaring mother's breast
As the sole consolation prize for the sin of aging
Break yourself upon a wave of malice
Sweeping the unworthy along for a ride
And thus, some men are born as magnets
To attract a certain type to them
How many hammer blows can a sheet take
Before breaking and requiring reforging?
Thus does God cradle me in his lucky embrace
Handing me opportunities perhaps unearned
Allowing me to skate by unscathed in so many ways
In exchange for all the other ways that make it through
A pillar of Luck, both good and bad
To roll one number shy of the winning one
Is also a form of incredible luck
Take solace in knowing you're lucky
Hammer fall, hammer blow
Pound me into mochi and dye me with your matcha
Soft and malleable; a perfect flavor of your choosing
And tear me apart with those perfectly straight teeth
For the sin of overstepping
For the sin of being born lacking chemicals
For the sin of desiring you
For the sin of being one man
Slammed against the ocean floor
An endless rain of hammer blows pounds me into the sand
Worn down by the abrasive crystals
And born anew as sea glass by your wave
"Break yourself upon my wave," you laugh
As six months pass with startling realizations
Craving more, but not from your farm
A brutal tyrant burns down a forest
Your cinnamon poison courses through me
As I forsake medicine in exchange for it
Depressant upon depression
To kill my brain to save my liver
Endlessly gazing forward to stop myself from giving up
When does forward end?
When do I see I spent my life saving myself up
Merely to leave a prettier body behind?
Are you watching, O Sainted Phoenix?
Was forsaking you the event that set me on a cursed timeline?
Was that the moment I should have looked forward
Instead of self-medicating?
Endlessly lost in logic loops
Preventing me from choosing either happiness or despair
Living in a constant state of static stasis
Breaking myself upon your waves.
Resourcing faith, resolve, resolve
conforming brace of how
consigning brackets of identity, not slow
the entry of concern, between friend's row!
Yet, still enduring, we are them, their vow
this loneness of reserve, the leader's power
conserves some owning of their toilsome plow,
ne'er freedom is their choice, we rostrum flow!
Conviction, is it changing, holding stow
I am in constant danger, yet I show
ne'er fault, impartiality must go,
involving loss, my prayer is fairness more!
Now, join some unity of truth, the platform's scroll
my life, your life, let virtue breech, not row
the national incentive, debt's bestow
nor words impounding, restoring condone!
The truth's reserve, secession's teaming call
that space of joining, allies not disown ~
my ally, we are here, this cost we know
security's contention grossly stalls!
Where action is the limit, we face haul
consulting with our interests, trusts install
that destiny, called choice, reverses, mauls
may just be my endowment, just my soul?
Or all mankind at purpose, answers hone
to this our enemy is still at throne
the sterile overstepping overthrow
this outright pose, this policy's control!
Erosion not the strength of freedom's prone
this break up, not my cause, as God, disown
still showing honor's back-up, not renown
in earnestness compile, nor allies roam!
Up front, an ever pressing, selfless stone
the brink of character, so evermore
that freshness could sow on, immortal's cone
true learning, listening, never cursing's thrown!
To test our weakness, I would cringe somehow
that courage, entity, seems all condone
is interference' monitor's bestow
I plant in some forgiveness factor's cull!
Diplomacy's contain, the jewels roll
ne'er in that wearing coat of idol's bloat
this right or wrong, my energy console
does eke not my transmission's holding core!
Talus Sports Wrestling
From the Desk of;
Non Sono Affari Tuoi
President of Sports America LLC
Metacognition___________________________Promoting or Organizing
Semantics
Bloom's Taxonomy
Performance Principle
Historical Aspects of the Business and Industry
Diversification
Development of modern management
Promotional Skills
impact of endorsements
Sunk Cost Fallacy
Myths
Theory of Constraints
Professional Sports Wrestling
Brass Promotion
Individual Promotion
Rule Book
Rules about prohibited moves,
Disqualifications
How to win
Formats
Tag Team Rules
Ring Counts
Rope Breaks
Winning the Match
Kayfabe
Titles and Trophies
Contention and Rankings
Scribble and Scrap
Staccato/Legato Entrance Sounds
Angles (pitched) or confirmed
Allowance of Meddling (journalist)
Backoff Rule or Ragmireor overstepping(journalist)
Inclusive (management and press)made for Journalist
Studio Bout
Arena Bout
Clown-Show (no outcome is expected;used to recreate)
Duration
He found the road long and lonely.
From this seemingly endless trek to monotony,
He wished to enter a world, luminous and exciting;
A world spun in iridescent colors and shades.
He ventured to experiment with life
And in due course slipped into psychedelic pleasures.
As curls of cigarette smoke
Were expelled out from his nostrils
He floated on waves of psychedelic delight.
A buzzing sensation swept across all his nerves.
Overstepping the margins of reason
He slipped into a state of altered reality
Euphoria pulsed through his body from head to foot
Got transported into a fantasy world.
He savored the explosions of joy bubbles
And indulged in strange sensory delights.
The hippie culture cast a magic spell in him.
Fell in love with the insidious drug LSD
And often retreated into an illusory paradise,
With nothing tormenting his body or mind,
Reveling in the bliss of its comforting warmth.
The drug became part of his daily routine.
He experienced moments so surreal
Felt flying, floating and soaring in ether.
Living hallucinogenic, he didn’t know
How to keep himself sane or become light headed,
Without a hit of heroin or cocaine.
He was getting addicted to it day by day.
But the drug was slowly proving chaotic.
The pleasant short term therapeutic outcome of the drug
Was overshadowed by many of its tormenting effects
Exposed to irritability, fatigue, spasms and tremors,
He was becoming a menace to himself and others.
Relying on the drug always to fend off his affliction,
He was like an insect trapped in a web
And a hungry arachnid spinning shackles around him.
Thus, from psychedelic pleasures,
He moved into psychedelic trauma.
I
Which time is better?
Which season is better?
Which companion is better?
Which age is better?
Were some of my thoughts as......
I carried my drowsy cherub on my shoulders
cautiously walking in my garden
so that sleep is not disturbed
by my overstepping any cobble.
The night air was perfumed
by the queen of nights
loyally growing by my dark casements
and swaying with the mild waft of winds.
I smiled at my innocent bairn,
as she smiled in her dreams,
making me wonder,
do these angels
also laugh and play
in their kingdom of dreams?
Her head on my shoulder,
her left hand holding me tightly
around my nape,
her limp body cozily snuggling,
breathing her warmth onto my neck,
made me hug this child from heaven
even more tightly than before.
Her vulnerability and dependance
on a human whom she cannot judge
pushed my stubborn heart
Into caressing and kissing
the soft cheeks of God's miniature self.
I entered the uncreaky greased doors,
tip-toeing to her satiny crib,
laying my dew kissed angel,
who had been lulled to sleep,
on her peachy pillow.
I lovingly watched overhead,
enjoying to see my bud bloom steadily.
With time, and in every season
I will watch her grow of age
till my moppet will hold my hand
and lead me into her kingdom of love.
Balveen Cheema
August19, 2015
The Law
Science is merely the behavior exhibited from a relationship. Magic the same. Science comes from natural law, magic the supernatural. People have their feet
in both camps. That's why we need
an attorney and glue for lamps. To show that the badge of consciousness is a recognition of self not an overstepping (harm) into someone else's coat of arms. Unless the two shall mingle, for that you shall need deed of license. Or a
warrant. To not be a selfish singularity, single- but- seeking-vows for the pronouncement of marriage. For marriage is a Sacrament. The right or rite of union between two separate camps or encampments and war can be chaos. The opposite of order. Lawlessness. Confusion, loss, sometimes of faculty, sometimes
of ultimate costs.
See, the badge is clear, shined for display so that behavior esteems (non dissolution), it
as according to law. The order of the Universe for those who also esteem, God, basking, in the light ( of righteous operation). To be loved and have a reason to be. To be accepted into the clan of Family, affinity. Union, therefore is King. Of passionate things. Connections. Themed. In symbols (or badges) we call need. Directions. Paths. Empathy. The warrant that was needed before. Called a reason to be....needed. The behavior of the Most natural and supernatural law.
A Myth Reconciled
The earth is flat on the surface and hollow inside as the sky holds the
bubble intact unless we tempt the Gods and the firmament crashes from
our heaven above loyal to mythological narrative yet so close to the truth
Earth wind water and fire at the core of beliefs with underworld looming
and still adventurous minds were testing the limits overstepping the mark
Pseudoscience today follows the pattern refutes philosophical insight
elevates paradigmatic errors and dogma unsound premises and greed
With nuclear fission and fusion of power with arrogant megalomania
the earth has become a flat pack of lies distortions inventions and demise
Humankind is hollow inside minds of our masters and the jubilant crowds
rejoice from snow globes of miscreant media adorn delusions of progress
Contaminated earth waters polluted fires brewing in smithies of weapons
we must have forgotten that he or she who sows wind may harvest all storms
Myths allude to the euphemistic description of fake news which are really
propaganda engaged in a contest whose falsehoods are the ones to succeed
When the dust of collusion has settled and radiation proceeds we may come
to rue our ignorance and reconcile for the chance that the myth was no myth
30th May 2017
writer’s creed
this is my pen, my PC, my laptop, my ipad, my phone---
all with which i write.
there are many like them, but these are mine.
my writing apparatus is my best friend.
it is my life &
i must master it as i must master my life.
without me, this apparatus is useless. without this apparatus, i am useless.
i must write whatever i like, whenever i like,
for to write is to breathe & to breathe is to live.
both my apparatus & myself know that what counts in the act of writing is not
the conclusive piece written, but the process by which we come to such a
conclusion.
my apparatus is not human & therefore it does not carry with it the flaws & errors
that accompany such a state of being.
i will learn as i use it,
overstepping weaknesses in myself &
gaining strength in that same token. in doing so, i will make sure to keep my apparatus fully functional & updated to the best of my ability.
before myself, those who may read my own work & whose work i read,
i swear this creed---
beyond this i swear nothing to anyone, to anything, to anything that “could be” or that is still being pondered---
for we writers are the masters of the “now.”
we are saviors to no one &
victory in any sense, has never been an objective.
this is what we do.
Overstepping boundaries,
clinging onto an empty marriage,
carrying the family alone.
Husband fighting war with
General dreams, of glory, in his head.
Carrying myself alone.
Knowing alone is lonely, lonelier every day.
We are carrying bodies, buddies and homeboys home to their families.
Poor mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers,
longing for a glimpse of their boy or girl, dead to this world.
They grow lonely, lonelier day by day and night by night.
Carrying on, pushing harder and harder
to make it through with all their fight.
Smiling the smile, greeting the greetings, and saying I'm okay.
Falling apart from the very start,
until you push too hard and the wound is now a scar,
and you say I can't go on
and the loneliness is gone.
You are gone when you push, you fall.
Take it easy, easier everyday.
Company comes by and then they go away.
Easy, easier, easily they say it takes time and the pain will not stay,
so they say, so they say.
Please I cry to the wind and the sea I want to play, I want to play..with my love.
Too many soldiers died today, died today, died today.
When I push I fall, when we push we fall, when they push they fall.
We all fall down.
Marla Stone