Long Parsing Poems
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Written By: D. Collins 2/9/16
There is no better drug to soothe the mind.
Than ripping out a web of poetic rhyme.
We can go “all in” through contemporary art.
Spit it how we see it, without a word to parse.
With us, political correctness doesn’t exist.
The unblemished truth will roll off our lips.
Getting away with what people wish they could say.
Occupying a realm between Earth and Space.
We pen it exactly how it immersed from the brain.
Not parsing a word, or editing a phrase.
Take advantage of what we can get away with.
Keep stirring the Gumbo, and giving them fits.
Came from Baltimore by Pigtown
Where they like to lay the law down.
He rebelled against the ground rule.
Had to grow up in reform school.
Got acquainted with a curveball
Dealing pepper by the church hall;
Broke some windows, but he left the scouts impressed.
He was an OG All Star, and a first draft Hall of Famer.
He had manners like a gomer, but he played with no disclaimer.
Pitched in Beantown, till they tossed him.
They’d regret they ever lost him.
Joined the Yankees as a slugger.
Jumped on southpaws like a mugger,
Shooting rockets past the flagpole.
Fattest wallet on the payroll.
Made a called shot, and the papers did the rest.
He went from zero to sixty lodged in Murderers’ Row,
With women, booze, and money all just part of the show.
He led the A.L. in hitting.
Chased after ta-il, no quitting.
Played ring around the bases
In a dozen pennant races.
He scored doubles at the wet bar.
Belted homers before radar,
And suffered his publicity’s intrigues.
He was an urban legend; no one ever saw him on TV.
And in the house that he built, there’s a tribute to his number three.
It was series after series.
All the bookies have their theories,
Parsing records and statistics,
Charting sinker ball ballistics,
But in the end, most everyone agrees:
He never had to play the N*gro Leagues.
Not that you asked,
or ever would feel free to inquire,
yet perhaps you grow ready to listen
to a voice inviting exit
from your,
and our,
long loneliness,
self-contempt,
isolation so shelled-over,
so embedded,
you are sure we are each and all
unredeemably alone
In our envy of others,
the positive deviants
with apparently healthy organic
and resonant
and resilient relationships
While we remain powerless to conjure enough curiosity
to discover
and/or rediscover
our own win/win potentialities,
personal
and political,
economic
and ecologically regenerative.
Depression conjures
dark apartness messes
all your own too-competitive fault.
But, your depression,
emotional and/or economic,
political and/or environmental,
like my own,
is no more or less your fault
than is Donald Oompa Trumpa President
of all anti-ecological wisdom,
a new ungreen post-millennial oxymoron,
and Earth's algorithmic degeneration
into lose/lose fragility,
And privileged human SuperEgo's declention
disarray
dismay
despair into xenophobic rabidity
oligarchical madness
global depression
mutual suppression
liberally invested in every thing
but love,
curiosity
recovering win/win birth canal memory,
a magical moment of hope for Earth's warm light
of lifetime win/win recovery.
Your depression is your fault
only in this warm right-brain accompaniment sense
of feeling and knowing we are a fluid,
yet stuck, State
that is our shared win/lose fault
of left-brain dominating culture
parsing compassion stingily,
saving for glorious and
win/win right-brain interdependent
un-lonely Rapturous sacred end.
But, as every community organizer
and integral permaculture designer
and restorative justice advocator
knows from win/win v win/lose v loselose
retributive v restorative justice experience,
we cannot end a resilient health-building project
that will include
any and all multicultural win/win faith
if we did not embody already inside
as we began
pushing through our original organic tunnel
toward Earth love's first light
and unmuted sounds
of greeting,
warm accompaniment
universal co-present love,
Hope
faith in EarthMother's warm feeding breast
from whence we each compassion came
come
and go.
In crowded halls, ivy clad, walk the sleepless zombies - the walking dead.
They’ve come to grapple, the chosen few, in trials by pen and pencil too.
Long ago we quietly agreed to trade studies and stress for a lives of ease.
The fire of competition burns within, a pyre fueled by challenge and adrenaline.
We’ve been grinding from morning’s light to dark midnight, fueled largely by tasty caffeine's bite.
Sleep’s a distant memory, that’s been swapped for all-nighters, notecards and highlighters.
Professors who have taught us now plant briar-like, trickster-questions, to try and fraught us.
Have we synthesized it all - the labs, lectures and quotes, the chapters, quizzes and notes?
The hours we’ve spent, dissecting texts, parsing equations, crafting essays - pay off now.
Or don’t - the clutter of fact, theory, and tensors will separate the scholars from the pretenders.
But fear not, dear reader, for we’re tough, seasoned cowgirls and this is just another rodeo.
True, we chew erasers not tobacco and ride desks or lab stations, not bucking broncos.
But some are thrown, bruised and scarred - finding their future careers discarded.
We’re required to hand-write our test essays out, a trap that negates AI with age-old foolscap.
We know the challenge, we’ve studied and crammed, to tackle the hurdle of ‘top-tier’ exams.
Beyond the stress beacons the sweet release - of holiday parties and presents that please.
But perhaps the sweetest possible tease, is the promise of slumber and weeks study free.
.
Webster: foolscap = a piece of paper
I came across an old McGuffey's Reader the other day.
Let me endeavor to tell you about it if I may.
Seems in days of yore, educational aims were more sublime.
Political correctness had yet to reach its querulous prime!
Rife with exercises for forming a solid education,
It was used by teachers and scholars for many a generation.
Between its covers were many down-to-earth stories,
Telling of the value of adhering to time-honored mores!
Can you imagine, it even mentions God a time or two!
Everything was written with a moral point of view.
The book taught that upright living was the thing to do,
If a happy and successful life was to ensue!
Copious exercises taught pupils proper articulation,
And great stress was placed on correct punctuation.
Among other things in which they were drilled to excel,
Was the parsing of words and how to properly spell!
I'm not too well versed on what today is taught in school.
Seems, tho', it wouldn't hurt to espouse the Golden Rule!
I would be willing to bet my very last dime,
That it might even help to reduce the teenage rate of crime!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
See that vessel back there
Just claimed by the storm
The whole crew is expired
Some had not yet been born
There’s no sense parsing gestures
Or mincing words this day
Times like these, the best you can do
Is bundle up and walk away
I know you’ve heard the story
The news rolls on and on
The pulse of irritation
Grips you some time around dawn
And your fingers are like drumsticks
But there is no tune to play
Moments like these, you seal up your beat
And start to walk away
The curtain has been lowering
For quite a while by now
Generations pass in grief
As the eras will allow
It all blurs into one façade
One miniature shadow play
Shows like these, you grab your coat
And your ticket stub and walk away
I don’t know if I’ll make much sense
I’m pretty sure I won’t
On the fields of isolation,
Some break the fence and some don’t
I hope your crop grows sky-high
May fertile winds go your way
As for the rest of us in the bowl of dust,
Let us pack up and walk away.
An empty auditorium, echoing with the voices of those long past
Life’s stage, we the characters, parsing the script in a caricature of truth
Phantoms of a thousand different productions, acts, scenes leave the frissons of their presence
We strive, strain, stretch for the higher, brighter, better, betraying verity for vanity
Etchings in dust, the drive to impact the path we’ve trodden
Power like water within the grasp of a clenched fist
Clasping, gripping, seizing, you find nothing but droplets left in your open palm
Ignominy strikes the weakest souls, stretched threads of consciousness reaching vainly
We long to fly, seek to ascend to the forbidden, transforming into what we were never made to be
Transcendent, elusive, suffusing our epic odyssey of alienation
Logic is a casualty of success, empathy a victim of independence
Careening along a runway, the test flight, hoping for the rudiments of wings
2/21/22
"The Rudiments of Wings"
for "This or That, Vol 10" sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Democracy devolves into tyranny, Plato cautioned.
Flooded by the frigid torrent of factionalism,
will we certify his prediction?
Blinded by the prevarication of public discourse.
Numbed by the inundation of disinformation.
Crippled by the conspiracy of doubt.
The real deep state festers in our cortex,
a place where the charlatans of fallacy
invade,
a dwelling where terrorists of mind
take control.
But the terrain before us is vast.
The dense forest and effulgent meadows ahead are unmapped,
musky, fructuous forest floor perfumes the breeze,
The scarlet skyline of the dewy untrodden beckons us.
Abundant life is our rehearsal.
Can we honestly say we know for what?
Yet, such rapture is eloquent in our dreams.
Such reverie will arrest the parsing of our quintessence.
Our distortions are lifted when we are united
in communitarian struggle.
Published Online 4/2021: The Opiate Magazine
Also scheduled for print publication: summer, 2021
Serenading you with my sincerity
assembling praises in your name
your one glance falls in place
a thousand emotions it resurrects.
Dawn is the new dusk
you pretend and wave it off
but the beauty in it
like an elephant without a tusk.
I wander to find peace
to render apologies apiece
my state of mind eloquent of a mirage
and I stay true to this farce
reality sickens me to the core
bringing redundant conversations to the fore.
Dredging up new barriers
setting up new boundaries.
Parsing life stuck at this juncture
now I run slower
and a lot less hunger
our differences like embers
time smouldered them
now settled beneath the ashes forever
still flickering by power of faith
memories waiting for someone to remember.
New year's day 2021
Disinclination regarding tradition
to make resolutions stance
adopted courtesy yours truly.
Though such proclamation
may smack of high treason
no matter convenience to season
and ideal time to leaven existence,
I discern no rhyme nor reason
to make a promise unable to keep
whereby only disappointment I reap
inducing tears whether awake or asleep,
thus Matthew Scott Harris utters nary a peep.
as he doth vigilantly creep
along the information superhighway
hooping to sow (sew) what he didst reap
re:pair so I can strut (wool ewe bull eve)
like a Mummer wannabe counting sheep
while he does sleep.
E'er since Pope Gregory XIII effectively
(furnished, generated, and
instituted his holy mojo)
introducing Gregorian calendar
approximately four hundred
thirty nine years ago
chroniclers of time - mostly
religious Norwegian farming bachelors
casually referred to brethren as bro
ejaculated (sometimes premature) invocations,
which echoed across
Lake Wobegon, said incantations
devout followers among populace
did likewise parrot and crow
generation after generation
whereupon enigmatic, dogmatic, charismatic
monk native to Burma
stoked one after another ego
artificial construct did ebb and flow
amazingly enough maintaining accuracy
with marginal probability of error
precision parsing seconds, minutes, hours...
would only tolerate absolute zero
variation regarding prediction
of weeks, months, years...
as sophistication of civilization did grow
allowing, enabling, and providing
jolly fellow bellowing ho... ho... ho
could make his round the world wide web
timely trek linkedin with timepiece
assembled with B Corporation approval.
certification of "social and
environmental performance"
a private certification of for-profit companies,
distinct from legal designation
as Benefit corporation.
The above plug an unsolicited commentary
regarding San Francisco, California
based eco friendly and socially conscious company
and recent employer of eldest daughter,
an engineering University of Pennsylvania alumna.