Long Ten thousand Poems
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A letter to whom
it may concern
That Cancer, aids, corona failure of kidney and heart etc
Incurable and deadly diseases are not the way of punishment.
Mistakes make both
Educate and sinner man
But selfish man can't judge
What he had done.
Then punish him
Such the cruel way
Looks injustice and cruelty
And against your divinity.
For Challengers or breakers
Of Your Golden rules
Almighty impose power
To punish them in You.
The victims is poor and innocent
He doesn't know the way,
How to live in your world
So he is not worthy to get punish that way.
I shall pray and beg
Ten thousand times and more
To pleased You
So injustice remains no more.
Please bless and gift me
If I bow my head in your honor
By stopping and replacing
Deadly diseases very sooner.
It is depand on You
Make people sicker and mighty
So once more consider
The rules of panel code Almighty.
Form:
He says yes
But I say no
He says stay
But I say go
He says wait
But I wait for my fate
He's away
But I am here
My hearts bleeding
With no opportunity to sear
The smile appears
Then it fades
My eyesight is blurred
My mind is so dazed
The emotions they run wild
Like divorce papers sprawled and unfiled
Always casting me out
Then reeling me in
No matter what I do
I can't win
My nephews and nieces are all that I really care about
Sometimes with all people I want to scream and shout
The smell of alcohol and meth burns my nose
The bloody, blackened tears just flow
My heart's in impound
Too costly to fix
His and my emotions, just don't mix
The tow truck came and shipped my heart
To a tow-yard called "Broken Heart Mart"
No one wants to pay, it costs too much
Everyone makes excuses and such and such
I'm tired of not finding a way
I'm tired of the games guys play
We've invested three years at best
Through thick and thin and awful tests
Love's never forgotten or lost
It's always rediscovered no matter what the cost
I know he'll hike every trail
I know he'll climb every rock
I know he'll park any boat
At any shifting dock
Just to get to me
I know he'd travel the world 5 times over
Just to spend one night with me
To explain it more easier, I know he's in love with me
But sometimes I run out of options to spare
Sometimes I truly think he just doesn't care
Now he talks of starting a life
With a baby involved and me being his wife
The first 5 years are the hardest yet
Like a drama show starting on a staging set
What will I say, knowing our past?
How can I find out if we're going to last?
Where are the answers
To ten-thousand questions
Where is my professor
To teach me love sessions
Can I truly say to myself
That I love him, no doubt
Will I lie to myself to make it be true
Baby, can I honestly say, "I'll start a life with you?"
You may have been sober from alcohol and meth for 3 weeks
But it will surely take longer to mend my heart
And make me go weak in my knees
Like you used to
So grant me this wish, that I ask of thee
Do you really want to start your life with me?
When I was young I didn’t think
In terms of accomplishment
I guess my ego wasn’t developed enough
To have the perspective and appreciation
To consider it all worthwhile, but
I also think those childhood achievements
Pleased my parents more than myself.
By the time I was done with school
What I accomplished were the simply things
I did just living a life
And following my own path.
For a while there I was inordinately proud
Of the house and home I built,
Then the arduous spiritual practices
Which took ages to accomplish
And replaced ordinary pride
With the sublime pride of the Deity.
Then eventually and thankfully
Came a family to raise
And career to pursue,
All of which seemed
Like a worthwhile accomplishment
Then and now.
Then came retirement
And the creation and accumulation,
If not accomplishment, of ten thousand things
Climbing routes, paintings and poems,
Gardens, orchards and long hikes;
The culmination of a gentlemanly life of leisure.
Now when much of that too
Has lost its charm
Accomplishments are measured more simply
Daily and immediately,
By the feeding of dogs on schedule
And the scooping of their poop,
By watching the arboretum thrive and grow,
Keeping it watered and mowed.
Eventually I know there will come a time
When the charms of even these simple pleasures
Will lose their hold
And I will be left with just accomplishing
Another morning
Another day
Another night
Another breath…
Until even the karma
Of that bit of accomplishment
Is exhausted
And I will have at last
Achieved the goal of this life;
To go in peace, without a trace.
(4/22/25)
I am bad he said.
No I replied. You are sad.
Arms crossed now. Closing himself up.
Huddles in corner. Lying in corner.
Hood over face. Fetal position.
Stays there a long time.
I type away, saying nothing.
He gets up after about eighteen minutes.
I am a bad kid he tells me.
There is nothing bad about you I reply.
You are a sweet boy. You help your classmates.
You are pretty wonderful.
His eyes fill with tears. I am bad! He yells.
I am bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.
I have heard that a child who is taught this
Must hear a compliment ten thousand times before they hear it the first time.
I want to grab his parents and shake them.
I want to tell them to think before they speak.
I want to tell them to think before they give their children the hate looks.
I want to tell them to stop using the belt.
I want to tell them to stop having children.
He is their seventh, and they have all been this sad.
Oh Israel perfect in prettiness
your own mother cast you out
and your brothers oppress you
But I have delighted in you
shielded you from their malice
separated you for myself
covered you with my own radiance
and betrothed you to my Son
You are the jewels of the Crown
I have worked my work
as a refiner burned away your dross
and made you more precious than gold
I will send for you with the chariots of your King
ten thousand times ten thousands your retinue
those who hated you
will see you glorified
For I myself have decreed it
I will lift you up before the nations
just a little while
take courage I myself with strengthen you
and the Son of my Love will guide you
with you the treasury will complete
and the wealth of the nations mine
Hold fast to the things you have
for my reward is with me
I will make you not ashamed
for the former things will pass away
and all things created new in you
Amen come Lord Jesus
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
You are told there is no pandemic.
You are told it’s all a hoax.
You are told it’s a deep state conspiracy.
Three thousand deaths here,
three thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
And then you learn it will end in two weeks.
And then you learn testing is available for anyone.
And then you learn there’s enough ventilators and masks.
Five thousand deaths here,
five thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
But you are assured it will be over by Memorial Day.
But you are assured that hydroxychloroquine is the magic elixir.
But you are assured the states can all reopen.
Ten thousand deaths here,
ten thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Surely you believe it will be over by summer.
Surely you believe drinking Lysol is the cure.
Surely you believe there will be no second wave.
Fifty thousand deaths here,
fifty thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Now you know all the health rules go too far.
Now you know about the government plot.
Now you cheer on the Neo-Nazi protestors.
One hundred thousand deaths here,
one hundred thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Intertwined in survival,
no one is an island, John Donne observed.
Do not ask for whom the death tolls.
It tolls for you.
Published: Dissident Voice, July 26,2020
“Do you know where hell is?”
Lee Marvin growls in headsets.
New Year, sixty-eight.
Hauling freight ten thousand high,
bomber out of Platts, NY,
is cruising over white.
“Far out,” (someone on intercom),
“Iceland’s green, and Greenland’s ice.”
Routine run. Five megatons
of H-bombs in the bay. Nice.
This war’s sure cold.
We’re pole patrol,
airborne early-warn. Normal day.
Wrong code? Overload?
Who knows how things occur?
Conflagration. Drastic action.
Navigator’s station now a blur;
rapidly ablaze, reeking
smoke like squid’s ink,
stink of burning plastic.
“Get to Thule! Think!
There’s a US base there,
if we can lock on to its beacon.”
“No dice. We’ll hit the ice.
It’s a miss.”
No-one had figured on this.
High-explosive triggers,
to detonate the bombs in anger,
are touched off by the burning fuel.
Crash site, south of Thule,
takes time to find, to figure,
in the blinding white.
The inferno boils great slabs of ice
and each thermo device
is charred to charcoal.
Plutonium flies everywhere,
soaks into tundra, floats on air.
They “clean up”, sure,
whatever that means.
Radioactive poison spores
have long lain locked
in green-white tiers,
but now meltdown nears.
A tragedy is forming,
nobly.
Lightning strikes twice:
contaminated ice is,
as you read this,
globally
warming.
"Time Is…”
Time is the generous giver,
Which got me to thinking of the sea,
Through cosmic ebb and constraining flow,
I grabbed the knob and opened the door,
Opened the door to the remissive sonorous past,
Waves of effervescent ocean foam lapped at my knees,
My ten toes searched futilely-
The well-springs of ten thousand silent creatures;
Harboring my thoughts,
I laid out my strategy to proceed further,
Swim I must,
Through the rushing ripples
Of forgotten past days,
The abject poverty of loss,
A deterrent as it is, will not overcome,
Not overcome the close of stormy day;
The wind knows its dire destinations,
The frequency waves, soul searching,
Through black holes of lengthy duration,
Sought out my silent searching soul, sifting…
Sifting; future man bows his head.
In gratitude the salty waters washed,
Upon the shore, crusting, icing,
The delicate skin through time,
Through cosmic ebb, and constraining flow,
There, under the stars I waded,
Fell to my knees, like a stone,
As the grains of sand,
Swaddled my outline.
Her husband has been gone eight years.
The conversation about him rarely changes.
“If I could dig him up and kick his ass I would.”
She is slightly angry because he left her with a hundred
thousand dollar debt she did not know about.
She called the bank and they said “The money has been spent
and you signed the loan papers.”
She says she thought it was for ten thousand dollars.
I am amazed that she did not read it a bit closer.
“I’d like to kill him,” she says “He probably told me it was for ten
thousand but it was for a hundred thousand.” I have heard
this conversation hundreds of times.
“How would you do it?” I ask her.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” she replies.
“I guess I would poison him, push him down the stairs,
and smash his skull in about eight hundred times with a
croquet mallet.”
Coming to Senses
Ten thousand fathoms deep of immeasurable pain in hand
Tim raises the anchor entwined with callus and sea shells
Back breaking ardour sends blisters straight to the heart
Touches untouchable spikes from the corals
His tiny coracle was meant to navigate shallow waters
He had been a bog snorkeler wrestling mud for sheer joy
Yet his mask had come off and revealed a grimy persona
Skin’s slipping adhesions loosen the grip
Where dolphins had sung he echoes vacant sound’s void
Hoarse silence suffocates dreams and screams deep inside
A pantomime on the parchment of mute cacophony’s yield
Ear drums beating retreat into uninhabited mirrors
He tastes tentacles of an ink dried creature folds waxen paper
Smacks tongue and flavours cannot discern tears from dribble
Congealed on his palate ingesting nothingness’ rancid relish
Buds meant to savour reveal nowhere to save
Cataracts descend from within ragged blindfolded drought
As he begins to deliver catharsis by grinding sand into tears
Eyes on red alert icicles hanging from lids he melts down
Sees what he must brace without delusions of fancy
Five senses mingle with reason likes cogs in a rusty wheel of life
Unshackled emotions smudge duplicity of sorrow and freedom
Eventually Tim manages to let go of his doldrums’ illusion
Spliced by his anchor lies the journey of his ultimate soul
26th May 2019