Long Useless Poems
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We always eulogize a child on his birth
We also eulogize a person on his death
On both occasions he is unable to appreciate the praise
At birth he is unable to understand the words
At death his ears are unresponsive to the sound
Why do we always say good things on these occasions?
Must we confine our eulogy only to these occasions?
A child doesn’t understand our words at the time of his birth
So it doesn’t matter whatever our words may sound
The logic isn’t the same for a person on his death
We have an innate fear that his spirit is hearing our words
We wish to impress the spirit by using words of praise
Why should we impress the spirit with words of praise?
There is a belief that the spirit will leave after such occasions
Some believe that the spirits are not influenced by words
Our fate after death depends on all our deeds after birth
All good deeds will be rewarded by the Creator after death
Fate is not decided on words irrespective of how it may sound
It is impossible to infer true feelings from how the words sound
We often pretend to please others by telling words of praise
These pretensions are useless when hearing ability ceases on death
But may be fruitful when spoken to others on different occasions
It is ineffective when the sense of hearing is undeveloped at birth
The generation of feelings depends upon how we express the words
Human relations depend on how we express our feelings in words.
Expressions, conveying different feelings, are said in a varying sound
The effectiveness is lost when conveyed to a child at birth
Damaged human relations can be repaired through words of praise
The appropriate expressions must be chosen to suit the occasion
Feelings and expressions must amalgamate in the occasion of death
One of the most solemn occasions in life is that of death
While expressing feelings we carefully select the words
The choice of words matches the vibes of the occasions
The speeches are characterized by a particular sound
On such occasions we forget our true feelings and praise
Ebullient feelings are aroused on the occasion of birth
The strength of a relationship is expressed by the identity of the sound
The effectiveness of the expressions rest on the choice of words
Alas! The only expressions a child has are cries at birth
One morning I sat down with Ernie to explain English,
I know you're a mouse but that squeak can only go so far.
He looked up at me blinked and then bared his teeth,
I said I'll take that for a smile so let's get started.
Ernie, quit staring out that box car door at the scenery,
You'll never learn to talk the King's language that way.
This is no tiny feat for you so please pay attention,
He sat up on hind legs and truly seemed to listen.
I told him that I was a young vagabond train traveler,
And explained that he was the smallest hobo of all time.
So if he could just learn to speak he would become famous,
My tiny friend it's just a matter of adjusting vocal chords.
Remember that if I can mimic your squeaks than why not,
Why could you not imitate my simple gibberish stated?
My God, right then I could see he understood my point,
Ernie's eyes lit up and he proceeded to write hobo on wall.
Actually he chewed the letters into that wood for me to see,
I knew all creatures were intelligent but what a revelation.
My friend Ernie could write so how far from speak was he?
Was so amazed was almost afraid to ask him next question.
Still I asked him where all his intelligence came from?
He turned his back and curled his tail into a question mark.
Was then I knew that not only did he understand questions,
He was asking me what I thought made me so extra special.
That night he chewed some questions for me into that wall,
Why war? Why kill unborn humans? Why kill nature? Why?
There I was the glorious teacher with no definitive answers,
Yet now that I've grown older I've also grown a conscience.
So easy when young to think you are center and will not die,
Those immortal thoughts soon withering on flesh bone tree.
To think it took my dear tiny friend Ernie to wake me,
It is truly humbling to bow before wisdom of a mouse.
That next day Ernie and I just sat there watching scenery,
He atop my knee and I marveling at my wonderful friend.
This train we rode directly through American history,
Passing by old settlements and battlefields of sorrow.
He saw my pain that day and nuzzled each tear from my eyes,
Knowing useless deaths with no respect for nature lived on.
We would travel together after that as ocean ship stowaways,
Still I will finish telling of our train travels together.
To be continued!
© Copyright 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
SPECIAL INTEREST
With the thought processes of the masses overwhelmed
By the heavy burden
Of no influence on policy
And with little scope for advancement
Up the greasy pole
Insurrection and rebellion abound
Catching the chattering classes off guard
Traducing a broke government is the new game
To incite discontent and to pander to
Front page democracy the new weapon
Of those whose frustrations
Know no bounds
Unions and lobbyist throw their
Handbags out their prams
Yet they provide no new income streams
For a government on its knees
The pension pot is the new not to
Be touched holy grail
Its reverence brings to the fore those
Who wish every proceeding generation
To pay for today’s profligacy
Money comes money goes
Often the government seems to have none
To spend it all on special interest
Is a very selfish goal
This new era of austerity is but long overdue
A curb on the excesses that let the selfish
Do as they would please to do
With society’s blank cheques
A welcome break for the taxpayer
The one who petulantly foots the bill
Those that want more may need to pay more
A progressive system is not unwarranted
Tax is but essential to fill the pot
Those that have but give not
A blot on an otherwise decent lot
How selfishly all sides do behave
They want but refuse to give
To be the one who wins all
Exceeds all other considerations
No compromise is considered best policy
To lobby
To influence
To fool
These are the goals of the one sided
Minstrels of the selfish school
Knocked from their little thrones they rise
They but skew interest towards their cause
An unfair system
Built like a house of cards
That flutters in the wind of change
Selfishness is but a wanton Unhealthy game
A grand state of decay is society
Where wants and expectations
Outgun reality
A government unwilling to be brave
Allows democracy to shiver and shake
A useless waste of a vote
A dismal disgrace
Society is but made up of parts
That only function if all contribute
And everyone gains
Grappling hands should be slapped
We must all enjoy what our hard work has begot
A delicate balancing act is government policy
Frustratingly it seldom meets its aims
For the unintended consequences
Forever drown the initial good
Not everyone sadly wants policy to do some good
Seek out what’s best for you
Always remembering it’s not
All about you
My phone died this week.
I’ve ordered a new one—
I’d like to say I’ve enjoyed the silence,
just lo-fi music playing, slipping into a flow state.
But I’d be lying.
Only a handful of friends to tell.
Enough to register
the tragedy of going off-grid
like it’s 1503—
where I imagine
I’d be decent
at throwing logs on a fire,
but useless at hunting.
No survival instinct.
I get sentimental when it gets quiet.
It's surprising
that this is how I finally understand
what Black Mirror really meant.
Slick glass, dark and dead,
reflecting back:
smeared rectangle
of myself
slack-jawed, staring.
Neither of us blinking—
only one of us
alive,
allegedly.
I’d had that phone
since before the pandemic.
It held more than my cache:
its shape, my memory—
my hand
aches
for its frictionless drag,
but I had to get a replacement.
I picked the same model,
not out of loyalty,
just me hoping
it would backfill the imprint
of its ancestor.
I'm not too proud
to admit
I miss the constancy,
companionship,
the fugue-state afternoons
given over to scrolling.
I’ve been more alone than I expected.
And lonelier still,
realizing
how much of me
was never here to begin with.
It's a disorienting false north,
this gatherlessness; I'm still sitting with it.
By the way, it's untrue news
that tech is soulless—
it's been up
at least one mortal ever since
my husband powered it on for me,
a gift,
ersatz affection
in response to a lack of discretion
he'd only recently admitted.
And get this: apparently, I cry now.
Despite half a life of spent
convincing myself
I’d therapized it out—
that tears were just poorly timed
girlish things I'd evicted
due to their silencing effect.
I was wrong,
they were only hiding in the attic—
turns out all this noise was just insulation
from every soft place.
Evenings with him feel longer.
He’s older, closer
to death than me. He’d hate that I said it.
I won’t tell him. We’ve learned
to steer clear of each other’s art.
No rules about who we kill
on the page.
Best to leave it that way.
I wonder if we'll go back to old habits.
I think I already know answer.
This screenless space hasn’t been clarifying—
just absence,
with no metaphor to cushion it.
At the risk of repeating myself,
I do know this:
I miss her, Distraction—
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is there love still there?
And will it ever show?
There's really good days and really bad days,
Sometimes it's as if our hearts have went their seperate ways,
I often think we just tolerate each other,
Cause we know how exhausting it is to start over with another,
There's weeks at a time we go without sex or passionate kissing,
Everything we had in the beginning I know we're both missing,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
You used to make me feel pretty, confident, and loved,
Now I feel forgotten, Hated, Pushed and shoved,
Believe me, I know I'm hard to deal with and be around,
And your heartbeat when I'm With you now makes a different sound,
I miss the feeling I used to get being with you, like I was enough,
Now somedays I feel useless to you and getting used to it is really tough,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
We once hated being apart even for a little while,
And it was so easy to make each other giggle and smile,
Why is it so hard for us to get that back? Why?
Some days I wanna lay in bed all day and cry,
I know we could be something so great,
I just pray that for us it's not too late,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
Do you even love me the way you did at first?
Or is it just dream bubbles I have that are about to burst?
Sometimes it's as if we are strictly best friends who live together,
Not two people in love who want to be with each other forever,
We don't talk like we used to, we just sit and play on our phones,
As if we aren't even in the same room like we're in different zones,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
You have no idea how much you really mean to me,
I wish you could have my thoughts for a day and then you'd see,
That since the day I met you my heart has been yours, and I've loved you,
I love you just as much now as i always have and I hope you feel the same way too,
Maybe our hearts will come back together like they should be,
Cause I know there's noone else out there as perfect as you for me,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
The Heavy Price Paid To End The Deepest Of Dark Pains
In my night-dreams, flies jargon of oracles wise and profound
words given that break heavy chains by which I was once bound
just a conversation with my dark-muse and her ancient friends
as she promised, they provided a means to making of my amends
tho', they are not angels, and each one exacts a heavy price
one that costs this soul very dearly and I have to pay thrice!
For when I reenter this dark world and walk among the dead
I am commanded to do a ghastly deed, one I so truly dread
kill, on first day of each week, not true villains as a great release
my victims are to be the innocent or else their help will cease
this long forty year vicious cycle only ends when I shall perish
or dare'st to murder that which my heart most fervently so cherish!
Alas! They knew well such great cost I would never ever dare to pay
what do they say, poet's ink is the blood that keeps devils away
yet all of my devils dance gaily within my red-blood splattered ink
and to this day, I sorry at how low my desires caused me to sink
tho' with glee, they told me this also would make it all go away
if I would murder my own beloved wife and use her blood to pay!
Now to commit that unthinkable act, its time has too soon came
I had played with fire, sought the dark gods, played their game
the oracles I told would get their last pay come full moon tonight
this would bring buckets of blood, to their greatest of delights
each one appeared and gave me more useless advice to seal the deal
having no clue, that this old tired poet, himself would thus kill!
All that gloomy day I worked to make sharp the sacrificial knife
to kill the monstrous monster they had made, not its beloved wife
she I had sent very far away, to visit her beloved family in Spain
to spare her this night's bloody sight, never to see her again
now the full moon has risen, that dark, dreaded midnight hour came
I give you my friends, these sad words bereft of a dark poet's name!
signed,
In honor of my hero, Edgar Allan Poe
1-31-2019
Note, this now finished piece was the other poem(4th) that I had
wanted to present when honoring Poe in my ongoing dedication series.
I only just finished it today, early this morn. I hope you may find
it dark, ghastly, and very Poe'esq in somber mood and its darkness..
Call me mad if you must
But please first hear me out
I just got back from the Cryogenics lab
And guess who's head I picked from the crowd
If your thinking Jimmy Hoffa
No, he's somewhere deep asleep in concrete
I grabbed someone much more spectacular
I grabbed the frozen head of Walt Disney
You see years ago he had himself chilled
At least that which contains the brain
The useless part they put in a casket
And far be it for me to dig up a grave
I've now got Walt packed on ice in a cooler
It wouldn't do to have his head melt
What kind of operation do you think I'm running here
Some kind of Mickey Mouse?
First on my agenda find Mr. Disney a body
One that won't give out on him too soon
Cause once we thaw out Walt and he starts to talk
There's no telling what he'll want to do
So I let my fingers do the walking
Here's something interesting...Bodies By Jake
I just hope we find Jakes place in time
Before the ice melts and we are to late...
...talk about false advertisement!
Jake the snake didn't sell bodies at all
Walt and I are more than a little disturbed
There really should be some sort of law
Guess I should have thought this all over
Long before I thought of it now
So as a special treat I thought Mr. Disney and me
Could go see his "World", so we headed South
Standing in line to purchase tickets
The cooler shakes when Walt hears the prices by chance
No need to tell you that if he had lower extremities
He would crap them if he wore any pants
We decided to do something a little cheaper
And with a Disney movie just out today
It was kind of hard to follow along though
When all you could hear was his body spinning in the grave, miles away
Guess it's to early to try and bring back Walt Disney
Maybe one day I can try it again
But before we leave for the trip back home
We stop at the concession for diet soda and Jr. mints
Once we got back to the Cryogenics lab
They're looking for me so over the fence I let the head fly
No need to worry, one of the guard dogs grabbed it
And I'm sure drug it right back inside
I hear that the Disney Corporation, after reading this have gathered together their top notch lawyers and are wanting to set up a meeting...
I'm thinking they're going to offer me a movie deal! Wish me luck!
I'm thinking Leonardo DiCaprio could play Walt...
Painful Perspectives
Bullying in America
"About 77% of students have admitted to being the victim of of one type of bullying or another."
--www.bullyingstatistics.org
My stomach tightens once again
By now I know the drill
It doesn't matter what I do
Move on, scream out, stand still
My heartbeat throbbing louder now
As heavy footsteps near
My mouth, dry as a cotton ball
My shoulders hunch in fear
Suddenly, I feel the sting
My cheek turns cherry red
The smack has almost knocked me down
The pain shoots through my head
Now words so cruel they pierce my heart
I try to block the sound
My efforts useless yet again
Scars stain my soul deep down
I touch my flesh to feel it swell
My light begins to die
My head held low, I walk away
Too numb by now to cry...
"Approximately 30% of young people admit to bullying others."
---www.americanspcc.org
For me, each morning starts the same
No feelings, just routine
Commands and orders barked my way
"Get up! Get dressed! Get clean!"
I step into the blinding sun
Yet pause before I go
Just once to hear, "I love you dear."
The door slams; I should know
The sadness that I used to feel
Has slowly turned to rage
So off to school I stomp ahead
My heart locked in a cage
Not long after I arrive
I choose my timid deer
My heavy footsteps lead the way
Toward the scent of fear
My hand hits flesh; I feel relieved
To share my hidden pain
I utter words so cruel and vile
Too numb to feel ashamed...
"It is reported that 70.6% of young people say they have seen bullying in schools."
---www.americanspcc.org
Standing near my closest friend
I feel the tension rise
By now, I know what to expect
Not once am I surprised
My fingers tremble slightly still
As I await the scene
I fight the stinging in my eyes
Why is this world so mean?
I watch my best friend cower now
The same thing every day
I cringe for what's about to come
As predator seeks prey
My inner struggle swallows me
I long to take a stand
I fear the wrath if I intrude
Escape, I haven't planned
So helplessly I witness pain
Inflicted on my friend
I wish I had the courage to
Make the bullying end...
True talk heals,
When someone speaks,
The truth about my small mistakes
As human being ,
I feel much comfortable.
When someone speaks lies
About what I did not say or do,
I feel so downhearted.
Speaking the truth is my best drink
And I am addicted to it.
I have been hated ,
Attacked,
Ill-treated,
Excluded,
Challenged,
Tortured,
Terrorised,
Persecuted,
For speaking the truth on social media
And face to face dialogues.
Meeting of man with
Man generates nix,
Meeting of woman with
Woman gives nothing,
Meeting of man with
Woman produces Children.
How do you expect to get a future king or queen of England when men with men or women with women
marry each other?
Imagine when a top leader forces some people to do what he"she" can not do.
The scripture says ,
" Multiply on Earth"
reason why
Presidents,
Kings,
Queens,
Princes,
Princesses
Don't marry
gays
Joe Biden,
King Charles III,
Emmanuel Macron,
Vladimir Putin,
Jacob Zuma,
Cyril Ramaphosa,
Yuheri Museveni,
Barack Obama,
Xi Jinping,
Mndala Chimbalanga II,
Kim Jong-un
Are happy to be fathers
Because they have wives.
Some African countries were imposed
Some laws which seemed useless to them
And continued to obey what God said
in the scripture,
" Multiply on Earth"
I don't think same - sex marriage
To be part of the British
Culture and traditions
Because there is no King
or Queen
or Prince
or Princess
Of that royal traditional house
Who did such Marriage in their history.
Hope this truth
Will heal many
People on earth.
I love you all.
March 26/2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
Haiku Translations II
Illuminated by the harvest moon
smoke is caught creeping
across the water...
Hattori Ransetsu, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fanning its tail flamboyantly
with every excuse of a breeze,
the peacock!
Masaoki Shiki, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Waves row through the mists
of the endless sea.
Masaoki Shiki, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I hurl a firefly into the darkness
and sense the enormity of night.
—Kyoshi Takahama, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
As girls gather rice sprouts
reflections of the rain ripple
on the backs of their hats.
—Kyoshi Takahama, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Unaware it protects
the hilltop paddies,
the scarecrow seems useless to itself.
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Ebb-tide:
everything we stoop to collect
slips through our fingers ...
—Chiyo-ni, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fading memories
of summer holidays:
the closet’s last floral skirt...
—Michael R. Burch
Scandalous tides,
removing bikinis!
—Michael R. Burch
Haughty moon,
when did I ever trouble you,
insomnia’s co-conspirator!
—Michael R. Burch
Ascendance Transcendence
by Michael R. Burch
Breaching the summit
I reach
the horizon’s last rays.
Moore or Less
by Michael R. Burch
for Richard Moore
Less is more —
in a dress, I suppose,
and in intimate clothes
like crotchless hose.
But now Moore is less
due to death’s subtraction
and I must confess:
I hate such redaction!
no foothold
by michael r. burch
there is no hope;
therefore i became invulnerable to love.
now even god cannot move me:
nothing to push or shove,
no foothold.
so let me live out my remaining days in clarity,
mine being the only nativity,
my death the final crucifixion
and apocalypse,
as far as the i can see ...
The Red State Reaction
by Michael R. Burch
Where the hell are they hidin’
Sleepy Joe Biden?
And how the hell can the bleep
Do so much, in his SLEEP?
Red State Reject
by Michael R. Burch
I once was a pessimist
but now I’m more optimistic
ever since I discovered my fears
were unsupported by any statistic.
Keywords/Tags: haiku, nature, moon, water, sea, night, rain, dark, memories, tides, insomnia