Long Unconscionable Poems
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We were discussing a line
between reasonable compromise
and unconscionable denial
in this time of rapidly escalating fragmentation
When I thought I heard a raw spot
deepened and widened by dissonant history
of disagreement,
antagonistic feelings about noetic consciousness
of past pathological
bad climate events.
Yet
when I ask how you feel
about how we are responding to your position,
story,
exposition,
entrenched in anxious missed communication opportunities
to share your own excitement,
You respond by blaming yourself
for not making your experience clear
quickly enough
given our limited time for co-invested commitment.
Is that your raw spot?
Our limited consciousness
about raw and bleeding climates of mortal turmoil
metaphysically remembered
through past regenerations/degenerations of limited time,
inevitable demise of relationship
currently valued by investment felt
in a more win/win
than win/lose history of personal communication,
communion,
mutually compassionate understanding
feelings of safe yet free dialogue
between appreciative teachers
who are first curious and compassionate listeners,
Listeners to now,
co-presence of ancient raw and therapeutic places
for terror and nurture,
for replanting and reharvesting,
for teaching and listening,
for articulating painful memory
and reflecting on therapeutic future response,
for win/lose plots within win/win commitment spots,
for curious thoughts
and feelings of emergent integrity,
experiential and yet re-membering
co-presently teaching here with active listening now
for past and future emotional voices,
some with, and many without, full consciousness
of responsive choices
For discussing discernment
between reasonable win/lose climates of compromise
and unconscionable denial
of life impeaching raw spots
in this time of rapidly escalating fragmentation,
where inclusive vulnerability
would better seek and find integrity.
Into your arms, we raise our lovely children lost!
The innocent ones, that we raised and you created...
Killed by a soul-less madman,may his judgement
be swift!
Forgive us, for we are horrendous killers, too!
We the conscience-less, we killed far more unborn
today.
Seven hundred, who will never see the light of day?
Our selfishness is absolutely unconscionable !
But we care not for your word, only our selfish wants.
We cry for elephants, but a child’s death means but
naught to us.
We are led by crackpots who shake hands with the air??
And, yes, these very same, smilingly, support infanticide.
And we are lied to, in the name of political power.
No gun has feet or hands, an insult to human thought.
But dead bodies, Lord, are gold to the politically inept!
When their political power, thirsts for tragedy, from a
well deserved, selfish drought.
Death and Satan, today, doing a most joyful dance!
For now..here is power’s golden chance.
To create fear, the falsehood that guns kill.
Guns are not human beings,only a human pulls the
trigger.
In the Judaea- Christian Bible, writ for us, it states:
“Thou shalt not kill”
Here on your planet, tyrants, for that is who they are..
Want to take all guns away,that won’t change our loss
today.
But when tyrants own all guns, they will turn them upon
us, to them, absolute power loves absolute fun!
Do turn this Spring day, the deepest, ebony, black!
Till we start turning our backs on lies and slaughtering the
unborn, so plentiful.
And come back to you; and till then, we are most sinful,
lost and utterly pitiful.
A special place for the beautiful teachers, killed,I do
beseech thee.
They, like you, Lord, loved children at their knee.
Alas, special people taken in May, help us heal, Lord?
Of this, I fervently do pray!
5/24/2022
We forced her into menopause well ahead of her time.
Mother Nature’s prematurely changing and we’ll regret our crime.
We cut off her tresses that once bushed across her land,
polluted her oceans and soiled her golden sand.
Moody and unpredictable her volcanic eruptions flows,
fed a daily diet of plastics, pesticides and GMO’s.
We sweated out her edges and turned her temples gray,
while her hot flashes melt the glaciers that dissolve more each day.
Her skin is dry and arid as she blazes across her earth,
destroying crops and animal life, unyielding, no longer giving birth.
We ravaged her Amazon where green algae and flora once flourished,
only two days shipping while populations starve and many undernourished.
Waken with a splitting headache as earthquakes and tornados roar,
we have become her burden with our excessive cries for more.
Gas emissions have choked her and left her in a daze.
The damage is done, too late before we change our ways.
She is like a bridge as our weight has caused her back to bend
with greed, corruption and the unconscionable conscience of men.
How will humanity survive when Mother Nature has no more to give,
what will become of our children, where will they have to live?
This is a time of urgency, but we have been fore warned.
Her end is rapidly approaching, for “hell has no fury like a woman scorned”.
His two objectives unmet
Bibi approves the ‘deal’ he gets
from Trump, in an unconscionable rush
to bully Israel into a peace made of mush
For 15 months Bibi touted 'non-negotiable' goals
All hostages returned, and Hamas crushed
This ‘deal’ achieves neither, though lauded in the West
To Trump, Bibi caved, a paper tiger when pressed
Past time for Israel to assert itself on the world stage
Show itself and the world that it’s come of age
Vote Bibi out, along with his feckless friends
Elect someone brave, who neither breaks nor bends
*Henry Ford developed plastic from soybeans for cars. It degrades!
Art As Activism II
Imagine no longer the sounds of seagulls squawking
or splashing through frothy foam in cool ocean waves
receding as your toes grip onto the wet white sand
Embracing the warmth of the yolk yellow sun
as the sea breeze gusts and the tide gently flows
Shores of majestic sandcastles neath burnt orange sunsets
Now imagine this scene as burnt orange polluted skylines
Alas, owing to the bacteria battles in wastewater spiking our oceans
Beach erosion that finally cannot self-correct
Imagine oceans as deserts and deserts soiled oceans
Tropical storms reshaping their landscapes
Sandy seafloors brusquely barren
Imagine telling your grandchildren
that once upon a time we fished in pristine streams
The ocean waters sublime sparkled in turquoise blues
In June the moon shone in bright pink hues
Big blue sky from rich cobalt to azure ignited
That the ebb tide was a fervent seaward flow
and a bird called albatross never digested debris
in his own home by the sea
That almost every piece of plastic ever made
still exists
That we’ve violated our seas with sea litter
via ocean liners dumping into deep waters
That our actions befouled the oceans
That you the inheritors, the next wave of nature protectors
have nothing left to protect
Gone earth’s beauty
Along the shoreline erodes the walk
The cause climate change, the effect risen sea levels
Harsher storms of vengeful severity,
nuclear testing melting sand
into gritty green glass
Clarity
Earth has given plastic turtle shells and rubber trees
Qualities we can mimic*organic and pollutant free
Tallies tell tales of more plastic
than fish in the sea,
Futile! Floating refuse tripling
crippling wildlife
Manmade warming undeniable,
unconscionable and irreversible
Mariner your actions perilous
Plastic found in fish
In us!
It is unfathomable to me how people can get hooked on video games
until it happens to me, and of course, it does as I have an
obsessive compulsive side thanks to my dad.
It is unconscionable to me that anyone can live like a hoarder until
I start living like one, thanks to my dad being a packrat, and teaching
me the thrill of it.
It is super weird to me that my mother, who loves to clean and cook and
keep things tidy and pay on time, and not shop had almost no influence
over me in any way apparently.
Maybe it is because I had my own ways, and her ways seemed strange
and stark and boring?
Yes, that must be it.
Daddy was a salesman, gone a lot.
When he came home, it was Christmas.
Every time.
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
Lace an ornate pearl necklace around throat.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
A snake with slinky-bones, writhing, not slack,
And fangs of gold - they’re not nearly a threat.
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
Those pearly teeth squeeze, kiss with velvet peck;
Constricts like a boa with bruised forget.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
Let down your gargoyle guard, for not a sec.
Why’d you set paper mâché, were you provoked?
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
Spectacular species, like grunting hock,
And won’t even say boo, like bully ghost.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
Unconscionable, a solid train wreck;
Ancestors and posterity revolt.
Set your scowl in stone; immovable neck.
You stand at a cold precipice, a rock.
Politicians play upon our fears and dreams.
They lie to us with pretty promises,
tied up in ribbons and bows, but when opened,
they are found empty.
They promise prosperity,
as our country sinks in debt.
They promise freedom,
as they rip it away beneath our noses.
They promise safety,
while conspiring with the enemy.
They lead and we follow,
like lambs to the slaughter.
It's time to say "ENOUGH!"
We sheep must become lions,
and let our roars be heard!
Let these unconscionable liars know,
that we have awakened from our
mind-numbed stupor.
We will no longer be gullible children
believing every word.
Wake up people!
Take off the blinders!
We have been deceived!
We have been led astray!
And they must be held accountable.
8/14/15
I ham quill tee for gobbledygook...
and ruffling tail feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion den cha hoard servant,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
hoof faux whatever reason iz explore
ring bing foo fighting beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.
It is unconscionable to ponder
that God's awesomeness is questionable.
The permanence of his good countenance
lies beyond the sustenance of the shrewdness
of our
insouciant condescension.
The incandescence of His amour in our lives
should remain aglow with eternal longevity,
so that any falsehood
be irreproachably reprehensible,
His presence is without pretence
That thunderous fires
owe His infallibility a debt,
Even when death has dealt with our incorrigibilities,
we must summon courage
to quench the flames of inveterate servitude.
And in solemn solitude
our being
should exude an astute gratitude,
that girds our vulnerability
with great fortitude.
And in the sober cadence of our credence,
we should attest to the sempiternal essence of God's existence,
not to be subsumed by the puerile creed
of a monk with no god.