Long Unperturbed Poems
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I have spoken much -
my trivial record of the hours.
God has not troubled me much,
while ants and termites continue to terrorize nations.
The ugly I have found to be beautiful,
and the beautiful ugly. The root, the gnarling trunk,
and the dying leaf know me.
On the highway, crows pick over a possum.
The meat is gone, bones cracked open.
An eighteen-wheeler roars toward them.
They lift into the sky and hover unperturbed.
The rig's smoking stack passes just below.
Again they descend to the flat carcass
and resume their conversation
with the possum.
I recall as a boy, I stood
by a window looking at a sparrow just like this one.
Every feather could be the same, even the mien and stance
of the bird – the same.
I had never thought of myself as a tree, yet all my life
I’ve been branching away from first roots.
and now thank God, I am become - homely.
My air-conditioner is a hive of humming minds.
Under my dreaming head a pillow stuffed with whisper.
Ghosts do not trouble me,
what does not seem to change bothers me.
When silence listens to me in a serene moment,
I imagine strolling on a village-path
Meandering to the unknown,
The verdant grass I tread on, is velvety soft,
I remember my mother’s soothing touch,
The vermilion sky leans and whispers to me.
In that sublime unperturbed occasion,
I speak to my own heart throbbing and pining for the friend
Who deserted me many years ago!
Sometimes silence speaks to me
Among a roomful of unfamiliar visitors.
Like a wafting cloud I slowly disappear from their company,
No one notices the void my absence creates,
I feel myself in meditation with eyes closed
On top of a mountain where an emerald waterfall
Descends on the coral rocks with a roaring sound,
The halcyon water mirrors the crimson sky!
I sense the unruffled silence listening to my soul.
A yoga teacher unable to disentangle her legs
Trazepe artists suspended in mid air flight
Contortionist arrested for public indecency
The snake charmer caught in a muddy sand pit
Poets drowning in an ink pot tied to their nib
Existential crises melting an iceberg of essence
Impressionist colouring in outside of the box
A funeral director counting nails of the coffin
Harlequin denuded down to the naked core
Artificial intelligence steering a robot gone mad
Jesus with Schrodinger’s whiskers on the rise
Unperturbed soldiers searching new graves
01st January 2020
Why don't we escape
all the chaos
in this noisy world?
For a fistful of
precious moments,
let's just sit
side by side
out in the open,
completely silent.
Let's gaze at the sky
in the gloaming
as it gradually
changes hue.
Let's watch the day
age together,
marveling
at birds flying high,
blades of grass
waving in the wind.
Join me in...
this sweet surrender
unperturbed;
seeking respite
in tranquility.
Let's keep still
like Buddhist monks,
concentrating...
on the lone goldfish
on that fish tank
inside our minds.
Submitted for...
Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Date written: 04/11/2021
An Ode to the Toad
Espied at first by canine friend
A lumpy toad upon the moonlit stone
Its leathery skin adorned by dewy drops
A tawny coated quivering mass
That hesitated to make the dog recede
Now wobbly upon the hand
Silent, weighty and unperturbed
It’s little eyes surveyed the world
Webbed toes remaining unconcerned
Content to stay upon the palm
Until replaced on to the path
A pause again to say farewell
Then downward leap in graceful loop
Into the soggy undergrowth
Fading blissfully amid the green
Of moist and pearly vegetation
With color of nocturnal blend
To explore the jungle of the night
A flower shoots up through the gravel in the back yard
Enthused by persuasion of spreading seeds for dear life
Red petals applaud a scented splash of dissident colour
Among yellow clover converging in strides of plentitude
The poppy marches on nevertheless
Like a thorn in conformist selection of dominant hues
She settles as a beacon of tolerance and loving exuberance
Unperturbed by fragrance of domination she tells her story
‘You are who you are’ she whispers and sways in the wind
A nettle confers with butterflies and bees
They say that to encourage pollination of liberal thought
Migrants must be welcome to propagate tolerant views
Add kindness and a measures of love to wavering fields
‘Do not steal from the locals but give free tender touches’
Inbreeding calls for a spot of difference
The blackberry hedge doesn’t mind who are her neighbours
As long as dead leaves and blossoms enrich sweet fertile soil
And the poet looks on in awe and appreciation of contrast
Words find place and time for a soul needs medley’s melange
The fountain pen springs shades of shelter
Dandelion pleads for embracing peace for all sentient beings
‘I am not a weed’ she suggest and ‘I like a bit of bright crimson’
‘It enhances my beauty for we stand united in life’s bouquet’
Earthworms of all nations plough shares instead of cold swords
Poppy is grateful for the joy she brings to the party
19th March 2020
life is understood backwards while it moves forth
memories epiphanies hindsight and full vision
the hand of the clock relentless and counting
a watchtower of impatience scaling new heights
beacon of darkness harbinger of blinding light
church bells contest irretrievable moments
some dial or other on unchangeable scales
an escape wheel hidden in an intricate case
on the face hours pass by until time arrests
crown bestowed by unsurpassed eternity or standstill
a bezel keeps track of infinite minutes in past sorrows
when the future claims the present from it’s shadow
lug width frames the buckle wearing thin from use
a free loop attempts to keep its grip yet surrenders
gives way to renewal and fresh marks on the wrist
one day I decided to put the timer to rest and
live in the moment unperturbed by procedure
free myself from constraints and computation
when I dismantled the chronicled ticking for measure
gave equal proportion to dissimilar concepts of tempo
I discovered rhythm and flow beating its own cadence
simply being I lined up new finishing touches of joy
endeared by leaving the rat race of pressure behind
I capture the here and now and laugh at the ticker
10th June 2020
Like quiet raindrops, silence falls serene
both on the mountains lying to my east
and on this peaceful valley spring-time green.
I take a book outside so I can feast
on words of beauty as I take the last
sweet rays of sunlight warm upon my skin.
Such time is short. Late afternoon flees fast.
But not to relish it would be a sin.
Calm is the weather, and there is no breeze,
so pages in my book lie undisturbed.
There’s nothing to distract me. I’m at ease
and tranquil on my deck - so unperturbed.
Since hushed and still is all my world, I feel
a luxury is time like this to steal!
May 13, 2021
For Writing Prompt - Calm - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
(six words to be included using bold print)
Years ago I wrote a poem in appreciation of Dad Jokes…
being a Dad and a PopPop it’s something I do on my family’s behalf…
It’s one way to teach my children and grandchildren how to have fun
how to smile…how to laugh.
It has been a responsibility I’ve always taken seriously…
using humor and Dad Jokes to give my family a lift…
once again…no need to thank me family…consider it a gift!
But humor is not easy to teach…much to this Dad and PopPop’s surprise
for many of my Dad Jokes have been met with moans and groans…
and a rolling of the eyes.
Through the years, however, I’ve remained unperturbed knowing…
If this Dad Joke didn’t make them laugh…didn’t give them a thrill…
I’m sure the next one…or the next one…or, perhaps, the next one will.
When I ask: Why did the man who crushed cans all day hate his job?
I can already see my family stressing…
then groan and roll their eyes when I answer:
Because he found it soda pressing.
I believe humor was hiding in my children and grandchildren
and that my slew of Dad Jokes freed it…
like when I told them Deborah asked me to put ketchup on the grocery list…
but then neither of us could read it.
With every Dad Joke I noticed my children and grandchildren
looking for the nearest open door…
“Dad! PopPop!.” They’d scream. “Please stop! We can’t take it anymore.”
But every now and then…peeking out from behind the moans…
Is that a smile that I see?
For a life-long teller of Dad Jokes…that’s always been good enough for me.
I have proudly watched throughout the years…
how humor in my children and grandchildren have grown…
to the point where they now come up to me and tell me Dad Jokes of their own.
And as I groan, roll my eyes and laugh…
a tear invariably drops from my eye…
for Dad Jokes…after all these years….have a way
to make this old man cry.
Unperturbed by prevailing circumstances,
Untroubled by gnawing situations,
The tempest does not hinder the ship's voyage;
There is something to understand about the sea's rage.
Darkness does not shut the door to the day;
The eyes see the approaching ray.
Even when the walls are falling apart,
Every day offers a new start.
The dark clouds signify an approaching rain,
That’s what the mind tells itself amid the pain.
Even though the treasure is taken by the night,
The despondent soul still seeks the light.
Inside the chamber lies a seething cauldron;
It's a journey across a shrivelled meadow,
Though the unknown ravages the inside,
Glow and grace envelop the outside.
July 28, 2025.