Long Uncovering Poems
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I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
If I was to take a word, say focus,
Stand it on its head,
And ask with growing sense of dread,
Why my friend did you just now,
Fly upon this particular
Moment’s verbal locus?
Torture I might answer, like waterboarding,
Might explain a thing or two.
Indeed the stakes are dear,
And the coast far from clear-
For foggy shores clarity prevents,
The utter contingency of cluttered events.
Focus is the mine shaft of the mind,
Magnifying that which falls
Into categories of significance:
Signs of a trance, a mental dance,
By which thinking signifies
The magnificent follies
Of a man upside down
In a world of lies.
No subtlety there,
Poet banging hair chest bare,
The mental frequency hertz,
Screeching, scratching, snatching,
Lose bits of hurt out of the air.
The mathematics of falling
Made clear by Newton,
His numbers uncovering
What was
Always there:
A god already in free fall,
The Fall, the autumn of our birth,
The forsaken garden,
Two dummies hand in hand,
An undulating snake,
A world of entanglement,
All fleeing into a desert dream.
For what? To where? And why?
The three double jews of the trinity
Which Law forbade no One to ask,
Yet no body did
Put focus to task.
She reappears all the time.
The rabbit hole stood for what was to come,
The worms therein what was done.
The trip down was fun,
Getting out gave more than the sum.
The prism diffracted the invisible
Beams of light,
An assortment of possibilities followed,
The world explained, the mind contained,
A boundless infinite void of space,
Surrounding us,
Disgracing us,
For we had to face,
The borders of our place.
Trapped inside
We looked the other way,
Attic floors, token doors,
A distilled virtue, forgeries for another day.
The sky was not the limit, we were.
The atoms of the mind mere reflections
Of our best guessing games.
There though, lay our best hope.
After the bloodshed
She reappeared again.
But only after.
Choices like Templars into the night,
Distracted the courtesies of a harmonious cosmos,
God had blood and died,
Men embraced humiliation and cried,
Change, the abomination of free will,
Altered the fabric of time.
Focus put by for a rainy day.
Distraction, the play thing
Of an unruly monster lurking in the shadows of thought,
Vomiting a pile of disassociations.
What do you dote on?
Who do you dote with, if anyone?
"Dote" is an old-time word for ruminate,
to dwell on and within,
to become absorbed by and with.
Then there is also "antidote".
Let's imagine that our massive events and entertainment media
were to merge into an eventertainment industry,
hypnotised and hypnotising
to dote on negative alarming events
in which we pathologize ourselves and others
victims in some intensely dissonant way,
suffering anthro-doting mis-creations
not yet present when multimedia creator god
looked and saw that we should
could
would prefer to smell and look and feel good,
or at least better.
This way of empathizing with vicarious others
stepping into our co-awareness of emotive/cognitive humanity,
discovering both my and our darker
fear and anger identities
as victims of eco-political anti-dotage abuse and neglect,
trauma and terrifying apathy
Doting on dissociation from negative disvalues
against organic life
and sacred love
may also co-arise associative antidotes
Reverent wonder and revered awe
recovering sacred integrity
rediscovering organic synergy
uncovering frightening and angry dotage antidotes
Peace restoring
empowering multi-mediating gods and goddesses
hunting healthy ways
and gathering wealthy means
for images
made of childhood daydreams
Curious and courageous stories
fracturing fearful crevices and angry cracks
anti-doting peaceful healing justice
fragrant with lemon-scented mercy,
lavender of love's promise
in four-dimensional fully organic spectral color
following outlines of days when healthy therapeutic news was sunrise good
and sunset bad,
but all agreed,
normatively good was green below with blue above
in yellow light
from which we came to champion dote through each night
or free of fear day bright.
If we are victim doters
then antidoting virtuous too
to see full color stretching identities
of me through organic you
within each of time's regeneratively bilateral antidotes,
both victim and larger self-potentiating virtues,
curiously co-redemptive powers
cooperating our more positive psychology,
evaporating our too negative multi-unmediated dotage,
ruminating our wiser win/win experiments together,
amply covered by pronoia's poetic
non licentious license.
My genealogical family tree
was traced by a relative distant,
thus uncovering ancestral names for me,
of some who had seemed nonexistent.
The past came alive in my fantasy world
with visions of settings dramatic,
as I felt myself in scenario hurled
that verged on a theme operatic.
Some fancies akin rose from imagery mix
of five different wavelengths and hues
in Wide Field, of NGC one eight six six,
with orange-red old stars, young in blues.
It’s a globular cluster considered strange
in Dorado constellation found,
with sidereal periods of wide range,
hence a stelliferous bunch renowned.
One hundred sixty thousand light-years away
from Earth, at Large Magellanic’s brink
(a galaxy cloud turning round Milky’s sway),
this massive multitude seems to sync
youthful stars with others from former ages,
through metallicity analyzed,
dissimilar in stellar saga stages,
which left astronomers quite surprised,
because it appeared unexpectedly young.
James Dunlop, credited with the act
of discovery, still has his praises sung
for listing a host of stars in fact.
Indeed, it was in eighteen twenty-six that
the Scottish stargazer spied the group
noteworthy, and catalogued where it was at,
assigning a label to the troop.
In the case of this cluster Hubble captured
with varied residents in the crowd,
perhaps a new star batch was manufactured
in rendezvous with a huge gas cloud,
as in a cosmic orchestral creation
with melodies that interrelate,
scored by composer of stellar vocation
for astronomical concert great.
An opus like Handel’s, supernally grand,
might sound and resound in the cluster,
with symphonic reach universally spanned,
in radiant star-studded luster,
while music mellifluous echoes in spheres,
or so my reveries rhapsodize,
to harmonies chorused by stellary peers
that resonate through celestial skies.
Generations of humankind here on Earth,
measured in cadenced metrical bars,
could be likened to fugue theming death and birth…
Might we be analogous to stars?
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration, image and info ~ Some of the Stars in this Cluster are Almost as Old as the Universe Itself While Others Formed in a Second Generation. It Looks Young and Old at the Same Time…
Earth resounds rational
restoring harmonic faith
in an omnipotent universal
double-entry accounting and governing
ego-eco balancing system
WinLeft only to also WinRight,
And cooperatively researching
EgoYang/EcoYin positivenergy co-relations
co-incidents
co-arising WinHealth-WinWealth--
further revolving health/wealth multicultural events
of creolizing herstory,
macaronic
co-acclimating
transubstantiating
nurturing nutritional
bottom line cooperative
not nonzero-sum Right inductive
and zerosum Left deductive
extending family roots of ZeroZone
ecopolitical and personal
secular and sacred
LeftEgoNature and RightEcoSpirit flow-power.
We probably could
bicamerally imagine
a bilateral omniconsiderate
integrative should co-operate
as Whole Open System
of generalized
metaphysical polynomial inter-relationships
intra-reassociated relationals,
PositivEnergy nutrition principles.
Left deductive yet cooperative scientists
uncovering never LoseLose devolutionary
dysfunctional NegativEntropic ExFormation
rediscovering devolution down and out and in
toward ZeroSum double-entry,
not this
not that,
Tit for Tat
WinWin Game PolySystemic Theory.
Right inducing sacred invention
of Left's secular Ego-Titsical idolatrous reborn identity,
ZeroZone within mortal sinner skin,
is appositional dipolar
to Right MindBody's
ongoing original timeless Ego/Eco DNA
thymine/cytosine Harmony,
WiseElder hydrogen/helium
nature/spirit
Convex/Concave Resonance.
Polyphonic bilateral
ZeroZone polynomial
heuristic health-wealth systems,
whose total open everyday personal system
WinEgo/WinEco consciousness
would double-bind cancel out
all notnot polynomially disassociated questions
about all pathologically isolated climate problems
Resolving resilient integrity pathologies
could therapeutically result in
timeless feelings
sublimeLeft/subliminalRight
polynomial ZeroZone as also not(not-polynomial) ZeroSum
WinEgo as also WinEcoPolyPhonic Resonance
and LoseLove's Resonance
as also Lose EgoPolyPathic Integrity
double-binding deficits.
Yin/Yang within
not knot-squared
and cubed
and fractailed...ZeroZone bell curves
of and for fractured Universally Resilient Health
riding HereNow's remaining Wealth.
My heart is overflowing
With a love that just keeps growing
Lighting the path toward hope
Leaving me weightless, like a feather
More alive because we’re together
My mind is filled with joy
Laughter and love, amazing power
Whispered to the heavens
On the rays of lemon sunlight
Reflected in the stars
As they twinkle through the night
Exciting the sapphire skies
My thoughts are flooded with
Joy, feelings that simply destroy
The shadows that might harm
That sinking feeling of wrong
The darkness in the storm
Your presence is like a promise
Assuring me of the happiness
That flows through my veins
Uncovering the whisper of grace
My dreams are sometimes alive
With the brilliance of intimate skies
Filled with hope and faith
Colored in hues of silent prayers
Awakening the soul to its praise
To a Father who brings out the way
Toward freedom, redemption
Salvation and the second chance
That comes from giving in to His wisdom
And leaning on the word, the One
Who guides our hearts toward home
My heart is bursting with radiance
Vibrant twists and turns
Of laughter, joy and truth
Brought alive by the sounds of goodness
Discovered on the wings of mercy
Brought to life inside where I know
There is only this hope, this belief
That God is alive and He brings peace
Beyond understanding, a shining
Example of His love, His kindness,
His wisdom and strength
The reason He gives us all
A second chance
He is a God of second chances
A God of light and laughter
A God of redemption – filled with
The zeal that will thrill spirits
Send tingles of fulfillment
Wake up the sleeping soul and kindle
A reason for living on the edge
Of a sincerity, a serenity – a faith
That gives from the depths of its place
Amid the worries and sorrows and reasons
To let go of this opportunity
To share God’s deliverance with those
Who need, most of all, to hear of Him!
Jesus is the reason for every thought
Every feeling on the heart
Every desire from the soul
The rich and brilliant hope that flows
Through veins that are alive with
Sensations of sweet faith
Salvation comes – not to those who wait
But to those who repent and praise
Those who know Jesus brings a second chance!
Is there a doctor in the house?
A cryptic message from the uniting nations,
looking for yet another credentialed ecotherapist
to surgically remove all our economic and political issues.
Those remaining after overdosing on pharmaceuticals
as media marketed
through normal incorporated competitions
for egocentric profit
channels and parties and outlets
fed by oil-fired over-heating ballistic powers.
Unfortunately, this local ecotherapeutic facilitator and mentor guild
is out of rabid pathologists.
They are all currently mad with medicines
of and for climate illnesses,
building sand bag towers
across drowning coastal cities
the oceans are reclaiming as their own,
in their perennial rage against the continents
of usurpation.
Predators, with power-over monocultural intent,
this tidal tug of war between productive lands and all-consuming seas.
But doctors are best for reacting
to already raging and suffered madness,
badness,
while our ecotherapeutic nurses
are nurturing specialists,
responsible for co-mentoring regenerative public health,
supporting cooperative natural healing laws and organic orders,
composting richer climates within dysfunctional families
as post-graduate clinical trials
before they take on facilitating public-sector governing,
multicultural garden uncovering,
helpful-healthy community beloving
our uniting nations' polypathically extending families.
For proactively regenerating healthy societies
this ecotherapeutic guild recommends
our co-empathic cooperative trust mentors,
nurturing Good Holistic Sciences and Arts of healing medicines.
Where surgeons and psychotropic dispensing political doctors
react against predative paranoid economic nightmares,
our health-nurturing nurses bring deep-resonantly fired experience
returning pathological ecopolitical dark night scares
into rememories of multicultural Paradise Dreams
singing and dancing through EarthTribe childhoods.
Why seek yet another burnt-out surgical WinLose pathologist
when we have so many healthy WinWin eco-nutritional mentors?
Trees creating good from bad atmospheres
and pollinators regenerating depleted ecopolitical soils
and barren, former ecologically healthy, souls.
Written for the contest “SOMETHING OLD SOMETHING NEW.” My original poem was written in 2017 as an epithalamium. The edit for John Lawless’ contest has become a rhyme.
SOMETHING OLD SOMETHING NEW
1. Something Old
TO LIFE AND WEDDING NIGHT BLISS
To the BRIDE, To the GROOM ~
consumed by blushing love,
ardor of amicable affection.
OH the passion that waits
in your bedroom suite, sweet
Eden’s confection, a mixed elixir,
a tango of crystal turning two into one.
And perhaps the soft music
and the flickering candlelight
will bless your love on this night
in nine months time another life
will further sweeten up your home.
Oh mighty blush, how it stings
your young and innocent cheeks!
A kiss or two will do you good,
bid you goodnight but not adieu.
And you shall wake, all the rosier,
as we all giggle and gather for brunch.
We live through you two, in memories
or hopefulness, feeling your pulse,
beating with the grand affair of your hearts.
May your blessings be greater than your sorrows,
lasting what feels like an eternity. Okay we jest,
and smile between us married couples. Truly,
may you be blessed with gentleness, love,
adventure of bountiful years. In applause,
we lift our overflowing glasses
to the lovely BRIDE and blushing GROOM!
CHEERS!
9/19/2017
Epithalamium
2. Something New
To the bride! To the Groom!
Bless your love-at-first-sight—
Uncovering of angel wings,
Soft music, flickering candlelight,
The bee’s delightful sting.
To the bride! To the groom!
Infused with Eden’s perfection.
Blushing elixir of honey’d room.
Partake of conjugal confection.
Under the Hesperus unfold—
Oh the rapture released - heat
In Winter’s saturant cold.
Buoyant tango betwixt satin sheets.
To the bride! To the groom!
In paradise, two become one.
May a miracle, performed in the womb,
Net you a daughter and son.
May your cornucopia hold passionate fruit.
In reception, our ardor pulse spreads.
Celebration lifts with joyous flutes.
Excitement reigns - our kingdoms wed.
9/30/2021
Rhyme
Within tender vulnerable hearts
blossom loyal loves without,
so too
within grateful hearts
blossom honorable patriotism without
for a people of democratically cooperative integrity,
and also grace-filling sacred matriotism
for EarthTribes of domestic nutritional integration.
Both politically public sectors
and psychologically mindful
egoLeft-ecoRight conscious
private sectors,
intimate
vulnerable
and not for sale or rent
sectors of polycultural right
and monoculturing wrong
hubris,
fake patriotism
without loyalty to underlying multiculturing wombs
fostering healthy integrating
nurturing
nutritious matriotism.
LeftBrain competitive patriotism,
nationalistic,
is mere exterior hypocrisy
without also Elder Sacred RightBrain
cooperative matriotic
MotherEarth's centering,
mindful,
egoLeft-ecoRight consciousness.
Vulnerable RightBrain spirits grow global polypathic love
as grateful LeftBrain dominant nations
regenerate Earth-patriotic matriarchal anthems,
love songs,
not just flags waving
but full-color solidarity banners dancing
with threaded bonds,
umbilical chords of harmonic rapture.
Why settle for merely patriotic nationalistic anthems
when we can sing multicultural love songs
of gratitude
for cooperative health-inducing EarthMother?
And Her honorable
grateful Daughters
and nobly patriotic Sons,
from generations past
for sacred regeneration futures
of deep learning
and cooperative bicameral listening.
Why do we RightWing pretend
our problems are lack of patriotism
when we both Left with Right Brains fly
through issues more cooperative
with underlying gratitude for Earth
gracefully paid forward?
Re-investing back
through (0)Sum timeless space
of positive equals notnot negative
spiraling
fractal
thermodynamic patriot-matriot balancing
secular/sacred
ego/eco-place.
Of and for bilateral consciousness
politically empowering/psychological flow of nurturing gratitude
convex/concave
exterior Earth-climate covering integrity's interior landscapes
uncovering
discovering
recovering bilateral cultures of health.
It can be determined that each molecule of me
will never reside in
the same space and time as
once before. So, every place I’ve ever been
I will never precisely step to again.
I certainly have been in places
I do not wish to once more.
Like crying on my bedroom floor or
crawling down creaky boards.
Like clockwork,
I moused myself down each step
careful with breath.
So young, it partially felt like playing pretend.
At my age, kids did not shy from playing secret spy
which left me uncovering classified information and lies.
My bottom sliding over every curved lip of wood.
Foot, foot, hand, hand
Close attention to shifting weight on uneasy steps
My mission consisting of lowering my crouched body
over the ridge, again and again
til I reached my destination of the third from ground step.
Peacefully perched I sat
and did what spies do best,
Hiding anything more than a hint
of a potentially compromising fit.
It wasn’t hard to hear from the other side of the wall.
Hell, I could hear it from up the stairs and around the hall.
I don’t remember the tears, screams, or hours
I spent on my ledge,
Somewhere they’re hidden in a little nook,
safe in the back of my head.
But in the space among their perpendicular pair
In the subtle chasm between them
I feel the tension brought on
by the presence of destructive and defining words
exchanged before bed.
Though I do remember,
through a sorrowed, strained voice,
“So what? Are we just going to wait til the kids graduate college and divorce?!”
Was definitely said.
I struggle to find places that I will never return
Places that provoke emotion worth being recited and read.
It can be determined that each molecule of me will never reside in
the same space and time as
once before. So, every place I’ve ever been
I will never precisely step to again.
However, I never want to find even one of my molecules sitting there,
night after night,
hearing their devastation,
after their complete desolation,
ever again.