Long Paralysis Poems
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“Let your light shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father
in heaven”
There is an eternal sight that lights the lives of men,
She is wondrous, full of rage and fury.
And with this turning of her page,
We stand at a crossroads of schizophrenic reckoning,
Of men and women great, vying for the mind of an era.
But to none I trust my fate,
For there is only one who can ignite me,
There is an eternal right that fights for all to see,
And in his gentle ferocity he knows the darkness that torments.
Some time ago, I was in a fallen mission,
And I knew a man whose light shined brilliant like my youngest daughter's gaze,
He died of Aids,
But let it be known, he raged.
I know a woman who lost her house, and back, and legs, and almost lost her soul as well,
But we prayed, and now she cries with tears of peace amazed,
Let it be known she raged.
I knew a racist spinster who gave my daughter diapers so that I could keep my lights on,
She died in bitter pain but not alone, for there is breathe that will not cease to breath,
It chooses whom it will to see the Son and so believe.
Some time ago, I thought that God would choose some souls for eternal flame,
And I raged on buses and trains trying to save who I could,
And when I came to see God’s love as I should,
I despised the shame, for still I raged.
I tell you, I’ve been wrong so many times, I scarcely know what's right,
But in blind sight I know this much,
That all of us will know his touch,
And together as one, the lot of us,
Will fight for a world with joy ablaze,
And when our salt has savored an age,
Then the world will know beauty.
But in the mean time,
We walk a line, between suicide and self worship.
Self Control and Paralysis,
Selfishness and Common Sense,
Service and masochism,
Fear and presumption,
We almost walk in darkness all together fearing the cross that saves us,
But in the end we shall say to that cross,
Come forth and take us for your fear no longer rules me!
For foolish things confound the wise,
And no price is too high so all might rise,
And we walk in the footsteps of a King from on high,
Who even death could not conquer,
And because he raged,
I rage,
We rage,
And when our salt has savored an age,
The world will know beauty.
The spirits come for a late night ethereal visit
the little girl announces her presence
Breath in Breath out
there is nothing to forgive
Your pain is validation you still live
With that... all sense of hearing dissapears
next comes paralysis with its icy grip, breath chocked by irrational fear
Now starts the grainy images of an old terrible black and white news reel
fuzzy subtitles of smiling troops whose words we cannot read or hear
with loud military music assaulting the ears.
Breath in Breath out
there is nothing to forgive
Your pain is validation you still live
Silence returns as the gates of hell swing open right on cue,
the cast of ghostly characters come into view
all take their place until the scene is complete,
the silence is broken by a lone heart beat.
She takes her place in the news reel's flickering images of light
The camera follows her every move, a crescendo of music as her spirit takes flight,
for this maybe the first time she ever experienced a confectionery delight.
Breath in Breath out
there is nothing to forgive
Your pain is validation you still live
Her and many faceless children come laughing, disembodied hands reaching out
to the young soldiers in return receiving tootsie rolls and gummi bears
Pleasant encounters must now end... with a village elder and authoritarian shouts.
We watch her run home laughing with a pocket full of candy to share.
Evil breaths in, Evil breaths out... exhaling caustic hate
The Acrid fumes blinds our eyes
as shadowy figures materialize...
for this little pretty little girl was nothing more than bait
The small moment of humanity will be exchanged for eternal despair
She must return with her pink backpack to complete this morbid affair.
Running calling to us, laughing holding it out for us to see
Boom then she is gone, nothing but a red mist where she used to be.
Breath in, Breath out
there is no need
for you to grieve
Your pain is validation both you and I live
there is nothing to forgive
no need to pay anymore dues
fore I am your guardian now watching over you
Evil knows no bounds as it locks people into such cruel fates.
We both are sorry for meeting that March day
and with that the flickering news reel ends.
we part ways again.
“When centred presence, by employing free will, grants love consent
Resolutions we make, as prayers to the universe, reflect pure intent”
~ Quote by poet
_______________________________________________________
Being not a doer but a mere resonator, may this mind-body vessel be blessed by cognition spherical, suffused with blissful rapture, enhancing soul stature, nearer to the domain of God’s healing omnipresent light, pulsating within feeble form, through each day and night, with the voids propelling both polarities of sentience, illumined by God’s radiance and reflected by us in playful childlike innocence
We do nothing yet all the doings are done, thus may we in time stretched stillness, be with the That oneness one, moment by moment, all moments entwined, playing out our earth life role with zest and zeal as assigned, with nary a care, always self-aware, as a humble divine conduit, unwaveringly resolute, with each point of life’s Ferris wheel having equal appeal
Boundaries blur as in-form nodes stir and as of God’s will, all voids within fill and yet there remains ego residue, whose feral cravings from time to time renew, which our burning yearning, for with God’s light melding, spawns a seeking that ceasing to weigh and size, we completely vaporise, to the music of the spheres jive, here and now, vibrantly aglow and alive
Whilst all analysis is paralysis and musings of lower mind by divine assistance we leave behind, imbibing direct knowing by touch, by simply resonating with universal mind, free from ego bind, may the wisdom of the seers be ingrained and assimilated without fears, recognising by direct sight, the noumena birthing phenomena, in incessant motion, in a continuum of time and space dissolved meditation
Each soul journey unique and whilst God’s love employs no force, our heart as yet seeks that free will be illumined to always embark upon the right course, obviating need for repentance and remorse, as layer by layer, truth we discover, with the false falling away, upon which standing erect, we cease to sway, from vagaries of life immune, in joy singing and dancing to the divine sublime love tune
08-December-2021
FIVE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
I was silently watching the two Mary’s sigh and cry,
When the earthquake hit and I just wanted to cover,
The ground nearly parted and there was no-one to chi,
I hit the deck for stones from the tomb threw over.
Covering my head with my hands and laying tight up,
I was aware of the two Mary’s moving over speedily,
To the tomb stone to take advantage of the windup,
Which just contributed to the terror weighing heavily.
After six minutes it ceased, and peace did administer,
The two of them were straight at the caster right in there,
But I needed another while to recover from the disaster,
So just sat looking firstly at the grass, then over there.
By the time I got them they’d given the body determinedly,
To the gardener who already had lit it and was fanning it,
So I ran as fast as a chicken away from a fox very quickly,
Up the mountain to get my head straight to think about it.
I worked it out that I had to talk with the two Mary’s,
Because I also appreciated what Jesus did when alive,
Since he had cured my cousin from quadriplegic paralysis,
Such that this cousin’s possibility was now to thrive.
So I did decide to accept Mary’s plans of ingenuity,
For the continuation of her son’s work with the poor,
Which would change medical services directivity,
From the rich monopoly over to with anyone to moor.
The two woman’s plans would ignite a movement,
Start a Society, organisation or group to proclaim,
That the way to live was through love’s enrichment,
Not by class prized, but by living everyday in His name.
So we talked, and the two women promised me silence,
About my failure to keep the stone which sealed the tomb,
If I kept silence about them having a stealing licence,
And about their real physical action of removing the womb.
So that was how the resurrection myth took off, started,
That was how it began, it did come from two parties,
From the Roman soldier representing the state above,
And from Jesus’ kin representing the people’s armies.
I don’t think Christianity would’ve occurred without,
The soldier man Roman guard of the tomb believing,
In Jesus plight and in the right of a movement, shout,
About Jesus, through the religion of Christianity aging.
Die Lorelei by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)- Translated by T. Wignesan
For Regina von Degenfeld at Waibstadt
-in respect and unending sufferance-
(Heine, a German Jewish lyrical and satiric poet, journalist and critic,
settled in Paris from 1831 where he married Eugénie Mirat, an unsophisticated shop-assistant which earned him ostracism and dispossession from his family and fellows, but he made her his only heir on the condition that she re-married so that at least one person would regret his passing. In 1858, he was hobbled for life by spinal paralysis.)
Ich weiss nicht , was soll es bedeuten,
Nonplussed am I, what could it signify
Dass ich so traurig bin;
Plunged as I am in such a dejected mood
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
A fairy tale from times gone by,
Dass kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
In thraldom wrapped forever to brood
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Soft the cool wind buffets as the day beds down
Und ruhig fliesst der Rhein;
And ripple free courses the Rhein
Der Gïpfel des Berges funkelt
Mountain summit lights scintillate crown
Im Abendsonnenschein.
Divine in sunset shine
Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Exquisite maiden perched is she
Dort oben wunderbar,
On high there resplendent
Ihr goldnes Geschmeide blitzet,
Her golden accoutrements sparkle free
Sie kämmt ihr goldnes Haar.
As golden tresses combs she concupiscente
Sie kämmt es mit goldnem Kamme,
Flaxen tresses combs she with a golden comb
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
While luring strains her lips release in lyrical glee
Das hat eine wundersame,
Tinged in a soothing tuneful hum
Gewaltige Melodie.
Mighty stirring melody
Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
The rower in his narrow boat
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Seized is he with bewildering pain
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Oblivious is he of the Rock’s craggy grotte
Erschaut nur hinauf in die Höh’.
His eyes remain fixed high above the narrow main
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
I believe the waves did submerge
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
In the end both boatman and rowing boat
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
And the deed did with her singing merge
Die Lorelei getan.
That Lorelei had wrought.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, January 23, 2021
Envisions of a new world order
Have infected
My ideologies
Concerning political parties.
Apathetic to the suicide bomber
Clutching his holy scripture
As Jesus is turned
Into an aborted fetus.
Starving for liberation,
Feed us.
The refugee diet
Is to die for, try it.
Stomachs bellow
As anxious toes embrace dirt,
The ravenous pride of the nation
Echoes anticipation.
A scrambled breakfast
Governed by corruption
Served with a life time
Supply of fervent AIDS
Lunch smothered in rape
With a free side of abduction
For the main course:
Genocide platter
Mass produced for thousands
Guaranteed to be
The last meal you'll need.
Original recipe
Provided by Chef Hitler
Improved by Africans.
Honor roll,
Honorable
But when you're in the projects
Good grades
Don't stop strays
Or minimum wage
This is a power point;
Bullet points puncture.
Marauder role models
Personal drive
Is micro soft
Where are their goals?
Error: Can Not Find File
Link to ambition missing
No need to excel
Brain is a blank desktop
That's screen saver
Screams for a savior
Poverty striken hompage
Frozen
Black plague virus
No chance at
Socio-economic advance
Now tomorrow you face book
Crash.
A diploma and welfare check,
Makeshift teflon vest,
At best
Yet,
A mic or a round ball
Provides the best bet.
At ease soldier,
No questions vet.
We don't ask
You don't tell.
Afterall,
We don't even know
What your really fighting for
Or whether you aim to please
Or shoot to kill.
America was stolen from natives,
Built by immigrants.
Dear foreigners,
Thank you for making our bed,
Now sleep outside
Where the homeless won't
But beware of dehydration
Land mines
Barbed wires
And snipers.
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving.
Sincerely,
Your friends in America
I see society with my eyes closed
And wade for the truth.
Diving into the obscure
Pits of morality
Searching blindly
For enlightenment,
Butterfly stroke.
Inhaling the souls of slaves
Exhaling the souls of colonists
Civil rights submerged
Drowning at the border
Gasping for freedom.
This oppression is toxic.
Ammonia aroma
Intellectual paralysis
Socially concious coma.
Divided we've stood
United we'll fall.
-Stephen Kofi Opare Obeng
Sherry, The One That Got Away
By Rick Rucker
Sherry was the one that got away,
I remember her to this very day,
She was quite a winsome lass,
I was far below her class,
Her brother was a friend of mine,
I first met his sister, with a smile of Sunshine!
I went to his house to swim in his pool,
There, I made myself the perfect fool!
I was drying off, and standing there,
When out walked Venus, with raven hair!
I was not merely tongue tied,
Had I not averted my eyes, I might have died!
Just then, my heart suddenly stopped,
But for paralysis, I would have dropped!
Understand that I was shy,
Too afraid to talk to her, I won’t lie!
Just to make matters worse,
A song came out, to add to my curse,
Frankie Valli sang a song,
To, my embarrassment, prolong,
The title was graced with her name,
It made feel even more lame,
A line of the song asked her on a date,
To never have the courage to do that was my fate!
I had a rich fantasy life,
In it, she starred as my wife,
We were so much in love,
Birds serenaded us from above!
I imagined we had little need of clothes,
Writhing together, we would curl our toes,
Finally the balance of the Universe I had to restore,
I could not take it anymore!
I began to think like Machiavelli,
All because of Frankie Valli!
With her brother, I did pick a fight,
So that I could sleep at night,
So that I would see her never more,
In time, my heart became less sore.
In time, I learned to be more assertive,
Not merely giving girls glances, furtive,
I even fell in love and married,
But, sometimes at night, my thoughts tarried,
On the memory of that lovely girl,
Who, among the swine, she was a pearl.
Whenever I read about two people, married forever,
I kick myself for lack of guts I never,
Asked Sherry on a date,
Therefore could not become her mate,
I do not know what might have been,
Had I not been the most timid of young men.
I hope she has had a wonderful life,
I did, and a terrific wife,
But still I sometimes hear that song,
And instantly, I know that I did wrong!
Try to imagine how it feels for your life to change in the blink of an eye,
Sat at your desk, suddenly paralysis in your hand and you’ve no idea why.
You try to make sense and understand, why your arm and leg feel heavy,
When you get up to try and walk, it feels like you’ve been on the sherry.
Try to imagine going to A&E, hoping you’re not wasting their time,
You sit and wait, your name is called, you gone to the front of the line.
The nurse asks lots of questions, you have to relay details about it all,
You’re moved to another room to find doctors are coming out of the walls.
Try to imagine after lots of tests, needles, prodding and poking,
You’re told you’ve had a stroke and you think they must be joking.
You find over the next few days when you walk, that you have no balance,
Even trying to hold and drink a cup of coffee is a difficult challenge.
Try to imagine on the doctor’s round, you’re shown the x-ray of the clot on your brain,
You can no longer hide from it and you feel the colour from your face start to drain.
Eventually you’re discharged from hospital, told you must get plenty of rest,
You find the simplest of chores takes three times the effort; your patience is sorely test.
Try to imagine talking to someone, and mid sentence you totally forget what you want to say,
Everyday sounds like having the TV on, drive you mad, you want to hide out of the way.
You find yourself sleeping a lot, hoping that when you wake you’ll be feeling refreshed,
Stroke fatigue is one of the hardest things of all; it takes a long time for it to regress.
Try to imagine the weeks turning into months, you pine for the life you once knew,
You’re constantly being told be patient, going back to work is not yet right for you.
The outside world, you once took in your stride, now feels like an obstacle course,
You become disorientated, feel weak and dizzy, you think it was never like this before.
Try to imagine, according to the Stroke Association statistics, 1 in 4 affected is of working age,
It could happen to anyone at any time, even you, whilst you are reading this page.
This was written first night of my recovery from complex spinal surgery to fix my paralysis, while in ICU. Still there
.Wee Hours of a Chess Match
I have still been passing
The long, wee hours of a chess match with pain,
Unfairly played as time does not
Permit me even a lit sight
Of the board and I captain the black
Pieces with my limited vision. So,
Even at the very start, my queen was taken,
With her protecting pawn and bishop.
I am a veteran player, but
Notably cautious — unwise for this game —
And particularly with this opponent.
Pain plays no games: striking
Arteries while simultaneously
Poisoning the brain; it strikes
At the soul —hoping the soul will sink with
Christ at the call. Plus, pain uses time and
Strategies to outlast,
To which nearly unending throes of agony
Will testify. Two more of my pawns and a rook are taken.
Pain sizes up to win.
My king captures a lost bishop.
Pain calls me lucky. Observers call me
Too drowsy and my anger sharpens!
Have they no idea of the reserves needed
To calm such a battle into measured breaths?
They claim, See we saw you entranced!
No, but no! I shout. It is a supreme effort
To pacify the nerves while picks stay at
Work to unsettle them.
Another of my rooks is taken.
This is no game. The taken are slaughtered.
There are no negotiations.
The bishops are wanderers before
Even learning for whom their prayers are meant.
Each side should have a multi-directional Angel,
Due more squares than a pawn. Knights fighting for
Pain need to know what that means, so could have
A square cut from their moves. Pawns serving pain
May only run away, take no prisoners, and
Just fall over dead when passed.
”Resilience” is a password for life, not pain.
Fingerprints everywhere, coat the pieces — hopeful
Of defeating pain. Knights do little anymore,
While on earth
As in heaven,burdens are shared and halved :
The war against pain soon, soon...to ease.
Relieve. Believe.
**********. **********. **********. **********
(C) sally Young Eslinger 10/1/2020
No Toilet Paper
My mind is boggled.
What is with the Coronavirus mania?
Why is everyone going freaking nuts over this?
From what this writer understands,
It is much like the regular flu,
Which is killing thousands as we speak, and
Hospitalizing even more. And this has been going on,
As long as I have been alive since 1952.
But this particular microbe is novel, and
Since little is known about it apparently,
People are afraid they will “get it.”
So off to Costco they all go, and
Buy as much toilet paper they are all permitted to buy,
Take it home, store or hide it with the other family treasures,
And then realize, inexplicably, that now
They are all magically immune to “getting it.”
Is that what these crazed souls are thinking?
I can think of a fate worse than “getting it.”
Worse than sports games being cancelled;
Worse than concerts and plays going on indefinite hiatus;
Worse than school classes and Sunday services finding the exit door, for now;
Worse than millions of vacations being cancelled, and
Entire industries being brought to their knees;
Worse than the world economy taking a complete nosedive
Into depression and financial paralysis;
Worse than millions of human beings dying
Horrible, agonizing deaths due to this little microbe.
No, I can think of something even worse.
Imagine going to Steak Corral - All You Can Eat,
One night soon, and you wanted your money’s worth.
So you load up your plate with:
Whiskey-laced, barbecued baked beans and garlic bread;
Two breadcrumb-laced quarter pound char-burgers,
Each smothered in a half dozen beer-breaded onion rings,
With ranch dressing dripping over them like lava.
Then you go get some more beans on french fries with
Big raw garlic chunks nestled in them, and then,
You wash it all down with three beers.
Imagine the next morning.
Imagine the horror, the horror,
Of voiding all that Steak Corral stuff, and then
Having the absolute worst possible thing
Happen to you in today’s crisis times.
No toilet paper.