Long Preferring Poems
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January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening
Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter
for mass communication
mediums stop the presses
when I, a regular schlemiel
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop
(no less than once a week)
of straggly follicles, and commence
to dispense with the heady eco system
viz rare crop of flora and fauna
(some rank as endangered species)
rub and band together
to scratch envy of
flaky key neigh bring ponytails
and create quite an niche,
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors,
who mane lee scout out available
head and shoulder room to nap
without a stir, tub bed down
(praying Holy Scott no wash out
nor Harris mint occurs),
or burrow vis a vis,
where subcutaneous porous droplet size
watership down pieces
of prime residence found
counting one mister comb lee
bald bold faced realtor
amidst competing rival
bulb buss Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee)
affianced to rapunzel,
whom he sheared split ends
as her barber of civil,
one dapper dander ruff dude to offer
lice cent shuss insects a tonsured
cut above other stylish habitués
preferring to fraternize,
glad-hand, and hobnob
amidst a cluster of big wigs
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour
pads tightly secured
with the best dreadlocks,
which harum-scarum
green barrettes serve
as first line of rinse able defense
IdentityGuard (with franchisee
Bob O Link averse to split hairs, but fierce
as a Mohawk and ring leader
to protect any curl of mine)
waving away intruders,
who if insist tubby persistent
and tangle with fate
cannot expect camaraderie
from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz
to give expletive filled lathering,
severe shame poo wing subjugation
plus an up braiding experience),
and teach stragglers
they will suffer
a real perm in hint bang up job
if they brazenly brush
against brylcreem of the crop
rooted as rightful heirs
(hairs) of tousled doo mane,
thus concludes my tail.
Postscript: Yours truly
an aging long haired
seventh generation pencil neck geek
finds ultra joy when
volunteering for kitchen duty,
hence imagine the hypothetical picture
portraying Geico caveman
mimicking pseudo dawn of humanity.
I'm not sure how it all began,
When this soothsayer became heroic to some.
As he molded a story of greatness,
Against what our nation has now become.
Those that listened were mesmerized by his fable,
As he wove a tale of conspiracy and doubt.
Then his minions spread the veil of shadows,
To every corner with whispers they could shout.
Almost miraculously, this mirage became a leader,
Beginning a reign that some wish to forget.
But his actions won't be lost to history,
Since the aftermath lives on to regret.
Early on in his term of division, the
Tactics would erode basic trusts once held high.
Such that... we are a nation made up almost entirely of
Non-natives, yet that must stop, & he'll build a wall with lies.
Soon after, attacks were focused on the media,
As 'fake news' ran rampant in the press.
While the mouthpieces, such as, Hannity and Tucker,
Provided his message to the ignorant, more or less.
It wasn't long before this infection on credibility,
Attacked our very own intelligence community next.
Because ol' 45 would disparage the CIA & others,
Preferring Kim Jong and Putin's rhetoric and text.
Now to be fair, he did accomplish something...
A huge tax-cut that the wealthy endorsed.
So while the rich got richer, the melody sang loudly,
While the poverty of others was reinforced.
Throughout this one-term the primary focus,
Seemed to be undoing everything his predecessor had done.
Now while most of these efforts were negated,
The passionate pursuit gave himself, so much fun.
The ongoing hatred towards Obama and Hilary,
Was a constant theme in the Trump-laden White House.
Lending fuel to the fire of partisan politics, while
Staff and contemporaries posed quietly as a mouse.
The end of this pathetic term was filled with failure,
As dual impeachments and the lost election were to blame.
Followed by legal matters that consumed a nation,
As proud followers were jailed in his name.
Yet the MAGA minority spread far & wide to the horizon,
Where vocal women shamelessly sought his favor to gain.
So between Marjorie, Lauren, and Kari...
Their BDE chorus was tuned to deny any pain.
While conducting this orchestra of disaster,
A nation held hostage, sought truth in the wake.
To the point where regardless of convictions or pardons,
Our Constitution and democracy, will not be proven fake.
I was gratefully listening
to a theologian musician
repeat a rabbinic tradition
of four levels of resonant soul:
individual (egosystemic),
communal (local),
social (cultural, national identity)
global (Earth,ecosystemic).
A mature musician,
like a wise theologian,
sees these four soul identities
as circular
double-binding octaves,
mutually informing up
and down,
in
and out.
As EarthMother's original staging womb
organically recreates
using the fractal language of DNA inscription,
prediction,
predication,
to recreate yet another individual soul,
as BrahmanEarth outside soul
is to AtmanEgo inside spirit
of dynamic resonance,
preferring regeneration as positive
as more power-indwelling
than degeneration as negative.
So, it was jarring
when this musical theologian
referred to human bodies
as machines,
rather than organisms.
Machines seem to be left-brain dominant
power reductions
as compared with
Left with Right-balancing organisms.
For robotic machines,
punishing or rewarding communities,
leviathan bureaucratic
autocratic societies,
lifeless planetary spheres,
power is either on or off,
energy is positive or negative.
For living organisms,
individual through holonically Earth-wombed,
power is both regenerative
and degenerative,
positive and negative;
Not digitally governed by our either/or switch
but analogically healed, developed
and wounded, decomposing
with both/and holistic interdependent consciousness.
Human nature
sounds like a robotic analogy
and hopelessly predictable,
dully rational
as a LeftBrain dominant machine.
Humane nature/spirits
feel organically metaphoric
polyphonic
polypathically rounded
theo/eco-logical music composed
and decomposed,
marvelously trans-rational
as left with right hemispheric balance,
rhythm, communal
pitch, cultural
resonance, EarthWomb global
Soul,
ZeroZone regenerative
more powerful than degenerative,
Yet organic cycles
and recycles,
purpose
and repurposes of life
decomposing death
require both
to recreate
recompose
recologize
recognize
theologize
musical soul
as powerful
resonant
both-thought/and-felt structure.
But, when we started singing together
I knew
for sure
he, as we,
feels more and better
as metaphoric musicians
than analogical machines.
No Explanation! (I)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Please don't ask me how deeply it hurt!
Her sun shone so bright, even the shadows were burning!
No Explanation! (II)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Please don't ask me how it happened!
She didn't bind me, nor did I free myself.
Alone
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Why are you sad that she goes on alone, Faraz?
After all, you said yourself that she was unique!
Separation
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Faraz, if it were easy to be apart,
would Angels have to separate body from soul?
Time
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
What if my face has more wrinkles than yours?
I am merely well-worn by Time!
Ahmad Faraz [1931-2008], born Syed Ahmad Shah, was a Pakistani poet generally considered to be one of the greatest modern Urdu poets. Faraz was a poet accessible to ordinary readers due to his “fine but simple style of writing.” Ethnically a Hindkowan, he studied Persian and Urdu at Edwards College, then at Peshawar University, where he became a lecturer after receiving his Masters. During his time in college, Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Ali Sardar Jafri impressed him and became influences on his own work. Faraz was born in Kohat, Pakistan to Syed Muhammad Shah Barq. In an interview he recalled how his father once bought clothes for him and his brother on Eid. He didn't like the clothes meant for him, preferring the ones given to his elder brother. This lead him to write his first couplet:
Laye hain sab ke liye kapre sale se (He brought clothes for everybody from the sale)
Laye hain hamare liye kambal jail se (For me he brought a blanket from jail)
Faraz was an outspoken critic of Pakistan’s military dictatorship, saying, “My conscience will not forgive me if I remain a silent spectator of the sad happenings around us. The least I can do is to let the dictatorship know where it stands in the eyes of the concerned citizens whose fundamental rights have been usurped. I ... refuse to associate myself in any way with the regime ..."
Keywords/Tags: Ahmad Faraz, Pakistani, Urdu, Persian, translation, couplets, love, sun, sad, unique, separation, angels, body, soul, mrburdu
The pen is mightier than the sword, but our power of speech comes from The Lord
W.O.R.D.S = S.W.O.R.D.
Words are my existence, they take me to where I need to go
carefully chosen, because from my heart they must surely flow
wanting to express my inner self, requiring a very special tone
hoping for an opportunity, to move those with hearts of stone
Just how to break down those walls, and convince minds so secure
that to reach the truth of a matter, preconceptions they must ignore
a reality exists, yet unforeseen, and by closing your eyes you will see
how this beautiful world awaits, to be everything you want it to be
My words are from another world, a hidden part of me from down inside
this key that I hold is mine to share, or maybe choosing never to confide
bringing you to my inner world, poses a risk that I might be willing to take
sometimes overcome by fear, causes me to hesitate, lest it be a mistake
Preferring to maintain my anonymity, I keep a safe distance and out of site
residing at a humble station in this world, my heart yearns to remain contrite
the breath of life that G-d has given me, a power to freely speak these words
yet I know that all that I speak is captured, returning to G-d as a flock of birds
As words are weighed and investigated, indicating how we spent our existence
nothing remains hidden before our Creator, in whose hands rests any deliverance
whether gaining passage to eternal light, or leading us to our ultimate retribution
everything depends on the noble act of repentance, this the only viable solution
How to repair the pain and tears having caused others, if we were only willing to pay
since nothing stands in the way of a person's will, "where there's a will there's a way"
the power of words is well known, some have used them to create, others to destroy
but since we have been given free will, we’ll be judged by those we chose to employ
As is clay in the hand of the sculptor, so too is the wonderous power given to create
but so many are blind to this fact, only realizing what they lost after it's much too late
words are our final destination, an eternal foundation we ourselves have forged below
rewarded by a meticulous divine calculation, basking in the Almighty's heavenly glow
I'd met you, like a lad meeting his neighbor little lass,
Charmed to you at very first sight, I stood like a dumb ass;
As tabooed lover admiring his darling, I stood far,
Thirst of bathing in your love, yet, blazed in me like tar jar...
I looked like a hippy cowboy in my rustic boyhood,
You're a celibate Tamil lady in blue maidenhood;
Your charmed me; I was like iron-dust attracted by magnet,
I'd fallen in your beauty as a fish in a dragnet...
I stood in bewilderment as you grew in great beauty,
I sensed being your devotee is my august duty;
Your treasures I ignored preferring your simplicity,
Pearl and ruby seemed nothing before your complexity...
This adoration got doubled, like seasons in full bloom,
The times I'd failed to visit you, had been my greatest gloom;
Your wonders, like star-dusts, in huge microscopes I did zoom,
Your water-beauty resembled Arabian perfume...
It's then, like volcano, the caste-creed concept erupted,
Folks near you from folks from far got mutually abducted;
Folks, once, stood bound in garlands of fragrant fraternity,
Found each one engulfed by enmity of eternity...
Religion, like daggers in tragic plays, reasons did raze,
Violence started writing on humans bloody red rays;
Massive stones and boulders, thundered, splitting shoulders and chest,
Dragging them in nets, like rough sharks, some drowned them with full zest...
You turned a meeting-place for transmitters of violence,
Great market wherein one could buy and sell ethnic vengeance;
Hallmark of your beauty, lily-like purest innocence,
Had hidden its head under dark hideous insolence...
Thenceforth, your sapphire blue got turned into coral blood red,
It's not menses-cycle of change; you seemed seeking blood-shed;
Like Scylla, and Charybdis, you stood swallowing the dead,
To the guiltless folks around, you proved to be a death-bed...
My love of meeting you often, then, like sunset got shred;
As a beast least bothered in love, I, thenceforth, went ahead;
You beat loudly all through day and night as though calling me,
Will first love, failed and faded, yet, easily gain its glee...?
(On a sea near my hometown, I fondly visited during my boyhood, changing into a center of cast-creed violence)
15 December 2021
Behold Beatrice, Pitcairn
the paradise sunsets lie in Tahiti
sunrise, the folly of Easter
islands, sanitoriums, deluded, denuded
limbos and purgatories, the never evermore
Polynesian metaphors transmigrate my mind
O to graze with the deer, dear
the tree never falls silently
lizards scatter, birds scurry to flight
i could never buy into falling silence
let alone fate of Galileo's descending weights
church theologians preferring an atheist Aristhrottle
forgive me for being sententious dear
no pity for Cyrano
the hidden Darcy
in another failed Benedick in port
without Dante's delusions
love with no embrace
Service, woman, a slightly tainted saint
Tennyson's wound that never heals
Petrarch, Augustine, it grows insane
ah the vicissitudes, where was i
yes, leaving metaphors and literate men
your laughter starts in those ignescent eyes
ignition, brush fires of rippling ballerinas
facial muscles lost in abandonment
to some elfish music i see, never hear
lips widening, bursting rubaiyat pandemonium
i adore your infectious risibility
it is your amatory smile i love most
demure, candles gamboling in the moonlight
i am a moth lost in the flames
of your demanding timidity
it is then i see in your eyes
the dove gracing your hands
the beast who serves your lust
this is why the Norsemen
fear nothing but women
swords once ready, berserkers, Odin
now lie silent volcanoes in my heart, Freya
the seas are without headstones
and i am wondering again terricolous
all of this are the clouds overhead
it is the heavens i see in your eyes
not the red dawn i fear
we see the jungle, its' song, inevitable war
the struggle to stand in the light
possibly besotted, erratum
the seas have long not cared
with you, i learn, heal
we are undeniably humanity
we are paradise lost
the hells of yesterday
need not rule the heavens of today
your arms gravid with red sunsets
fill my deepest hopes of all morrows
its' ultimate price is gladly paid
Miramar 94 The Patient Stones
Revised 5/22 OKC
see on Youtube
Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 Is Not What It Seems
there are certain words in here common in 19th Century literature that always remind me....besotted with Jane Austen
Rear view mirror
Objects, objectively put, are closer
than they appear. But it doesn’t say it all.
With the fair signs that spewed forth once turning to
a slew of pre-twitter pseudo- tweets since.
I once put it down In form Octa-Tri :
In rhyme scheme: aab, bb, ccc .
(“ At the wheel
At night. Uneasy feel.
Narrow misses, though, in nobody’s midst.
Rows of reflectors mark lanes glaring through the mist,
Comforting coolness and sultry night coexist .
Cell service zones change, ding-dongs the phone
Heart fluttering alone
Night unknown”.)
A row of earthy images it failed
rather than showed ,images with eerie
librations and weary nutations .Which
was not Physics, but physiognomy of life.
Like when bashed by kiddy badasses and
basic arithmetic, or when up higher ,
combative but math a behemoth
all the same, and guided perfunctorily
often, and rarely with the right intent.
In the peccadilloes- round, the Tintern
Abbey Sycamore also loomed dour sans
creativity , but the three trees on
the low sky made sense , and then on to
T.ds. equations and tedious times
soured by sleep and steep sloth.
Ingenious in fair measure , now turning
ingenuous on the proving grounds , after,
in the space of a couple of cusps of
light and sound mom was no more and we
whimpered and simpered under a dad who cared
but did not seem to, in his straight-faced mode
Then came falsely flashing , faintly fuming ,
slapdash years of machines and mega hertz,
eggs and vegs, sex and senescence to remain
for ever weighed down by the wayside whey.
Bringing-up-kids-banality apart
( fed mainly on meds for just cough that recurred);
preferring palm-frond’s loftiness cum
deprivation to urban up-for-grabs
benefaction; and the mess of docs, deaths
and a mossy crock of living pain since.
And all the dicey way , never patted
but p(f)anned; tweaked , untweaked ; harmed, ex-harmed;
banked on , debunked ; short-changed, sort-of-changed ;
lumbering on , alive and a-slumbering
and if anything wondering if it’s
not all the mirror’s prim fault
which never once showed my face.
How might capitalism
and egocentric competitive allies
of patriarchalism
racism
sexism
monoculturalism
totalitarianism
binary double-standardism
anthropocentrism
remind us of which competitive communication weapons
develop further violently aggressive apartheid?
And which regenerate gratitude
for cooperative
co-passionate communication tools,
both verbal and non-verbal,
for growing multiculturally resilient social capital?
contextual rightbrain intuitively felt
both/and nuanced
dipolar co-arising left/right
bicameral intelligence.
Which of your green ecofeminist allies
share your active curiosity
and passion for issues
of healthy democratic empowering Trust?
universal,
so not divided or divisive,
unitarian
unable to passively accept
aborting tolerance,
or to explicitly intend
to collaborate with evil,
instead to comply
with win/win cooperative living systems
resiliently accommodating long-term health concerns
anticipated for our next seven regenerations
of social capital wealth.
Too often we become fascinated
with persuading our non-allies
how not only different
but more right we have become
in our old established
entrenched rightwing
v leftwing ways
perhaps because we cannot remember,
when ego's healthy survival
feels at heartless stake,
multiculturally depolarizing conversations
invite both/and responsiveness
more than either/or debate.
Critically nuanced thinking/feeling dialogue,
essential to non-violent communication resonance,
speaks of chosen people
only after deeply listening
for muted voices of non-privileged
disenfranchised species
without competitive capitalist privilege
derived from patriarchally historical
leftbrain dominant verbal minds
still actively curious
about rightbrain's integral tolerance
for being of underestimated value
becoming non-violent communicators
shunning retributive, punishing judgments
preferring to celebrate
with joyous win/win resistance
embracing compassion's great
healthy nonscorched Earth resilience
restoring green empowered peace
serenely blue surfing
seasoned light
of EarthMatriotic
revolutionary
revolving
evolving healthy resilient justice.
Capital Growing valuables,
liquid and solid infrastructural,
are also sacred AnthroElder artifacts for
Future cooperative co-investment,
health preferring multicultural control
over thoughtlessly biased
ego left hemisphere privileged
AnthroSupremacist competitions
with other
lesser beings
competitively anxious
about sufficiency of Earth's healthy systemic limits
on perpetual economic
anti-ecologically dissonant
Over-development
of remaining
positively deviant
multiculturally resilient health care systems
giving and polyculturally receiving
back to pre-historic timeless time
regenerating win/win cooperative
EarthMatriarchal
domestically nonhistoric
everyday sensory-neural experiences
of resilient bliss
seldom captured inside historically sanctified
patriotic national identity development
Non left-hemisphere dominant
yet felt Warm Wet Wombing
WorldWide Webbing
interdependently reweaving Stories of
Climate health potential
through Cooperative Rule GoldStandards
for multiculturally AnthroCentric optimization
of resilient health,
as left-hemisphere appreciated
and robustly co-invested
in right-hemisphere eco-political
interdependently inclusive
Democratic wealth
looks and feels quite different
than StraightWhitePrivilegedPatriarchalism
Business as WestBrain EmpireBuilding Usual
YangPower v YintegralEnlightenment,
RightWing discameral imbalance;
Threat to climates of resilient Health
right here and now
in globally interdependent
healthy communication history,
Whose messaging could you discern
interweaving trust
and mistrust
and active distrust
From which sources
and resources
do you listen?
and draw
and most intelligently
Bicamerally design
for cooperative,
Liberal liberating love
for mutual co-investment
in multicultural wealth
political win/win healthy
empowering enlightened resonance,
emergent green democratic resilience,
Non-violently cooperative
socio-economic capital growing valuables,
liquid yintegral and solid yang infrastructural,
are also sacred AnthroElder artifacts for
Future extended family's
cooperative economic health
ecological wealth
in cooperative ecopolitical investments.