Long Well informed Poems

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Greater Consciousness

Greater Consciousness
08/17/2015

Imagine humankind in a future time
Could perceive each other’s mind.
What would it be like to do this thing
And the kind of world it would bring?

My insight of what would come about
Probably is sorely lacking no doubt.
But I will try in rhyme to give my take
Of how this will cause a human remake.

Could many brains make such a noise
That your psyche it destroys?
I very much hope and believe it would not
Be the result of so much thought.

Would politicians have to retire
No longer able to lie or conspire?
Could other crimes be in the past,
Criminals finally eliminated at last?

Would freedoms of expression be curtailed
By thought police with info very detailed,
Or would enlightenment reign so not a single jail
Or any form of bureaucracy would prevail?

Would war and armies be gone
Because humankind can easily get along
As misunderstanding and hatred of the other
Is not possible when in mind we’re together?

Would “I” and “me” disappear overnight
As we share all our thoughts forthright,
No longer needing the phone or internet
Would communications be very intimate?

Would science and arts be transformed
As all would be well informed
Of new ideas and concepts in their spheres
Pushing both rapidly toward new frontiers? 

Could we travel through one another
Seeing the worlds beauty would we discover
A experience more than just virtual reality
Bringing us together as if one “nationality”?

Would privacy be dead
Every inner thought known unsaid
As we evolve and transform
Could this become part of a new norm?

Could we pickup thoughts of a dog
Or would they be sensed as if in a fog?
Would our perceptions of all life be different,
Much more connected and reverent?

Would we continue to speak,
And if not would it change our physique,
Leaving the world silent, not a word said,
Except inside everyone’s head?
 
Imagine us beyond our current ken,
Could we finally reach our Zen,
Becoming a greater consciousness thru emergence
As a result of our mind convergence?


Contest:
Mystic Rose's NEW FRONTIERS OR GREATER CONSCIOUSNESS

Explanation:
Three major emergences are known–matter, life and consciousness.
Could we reach a fourth emergent state poorly defined as "godhood" in the west or possibly better defined as enlightenment or awakening as in Buddhism?
Form: Rhyme


The Message

I'm not the greatest of all-times, but when I'm done,
I'll be an all time great in this lifetime of mine
Like the late great who came before my time
I will breed a new lifeline, that will breathe life like march of dimes
My story lines, will bring truth life; like troops who fight
Overseas, for rights of those who believe that death is life
Now that ain't right!
As the rich is getting richer, eating fillet me-non, while we barely feeding our appetite

Night after night
Survival has waged a war that gave us no choice but to battle and fight
Although, we'll be all right
They say we a dying breed, but that ain't right
Instead  we're the light to a lying greed
That will enlighten life to a brand new seed
A man of God indeed
Freed from the Son that bleeds
Like the summer breeze
He's the sum that equals the amount of air I breathe
The air that please
A satisfaction like the birds and the bees
My word's words are the keys
That will fornicate with the mind and give birth to a seed
A seed of social change, that'll change our social economy
So shall our comradery
That will bring comfort to a struggling society
A synonym...similar to a civilization seeking for unity
Unifying the physics of theory
That seeks to explain the synopsis of a dying philosophy
Similar to the Cosby
X-cept my scrip-tic will speak more about our reality
Like life's calamity
And everything else in life that's destroying us systematically

However, I've discovered a system
That can mathematically destroy ignorancy 
And turn our state of mind intellectually
I elect that He (God) selects me to be
And be that man who may lead this community
So that they (My Peoples) may commute with me
En-route to a destination, destine towards our destiny
Like we were destine to be
We were meant to be "Great" like the late great that came before we.

Because we are...
The reflection where perfection gave birth to the definition of greatness
Where great means Competent, Skilled, Well Informed, and Tremendous
Our potentials are endless
And only we not even the enemy can put an end to this
So it's time we put a stop to this
The biggest enemy of self
And that's envy and jelousness
Cause after this is Heaven or Hell and that's all there is
A promised made sealed with a kiss
Knowing this
Is the next best thing since "In the beginning"
In the first chapter of the first verse in Genesis!
Form: Acrostic

Purpose Is Defeated

*PURPOSE IS DEFEATED*

Long time ago, they left the  boundaries 
Like an eagle from afar, they sight our mysteries 
In the system, they saw mismanagement within 
They robbed their way in
They killed their fellow uniform man eventually 
And the cycle continues circularly
Civilians pursued
Powers misused
Purpose is defeated 

We have formally forgotten those days
When virtues of peace were promoted with violence 
When the press were oppressed 
When justice was jeopardized 
When our constitution was constrained to contempt without conscience 
When the scales were afraid of scary blood, but love printed papers
When the beaks of singing parrots were broken 
When religious teachers were treated rigorously 
Purpose is defeated 

Purpose came again 
Our uniform men are well informed 
But they are not well equipped 
A great battalion with good  training 
Against that without training 
A great battalion with pieces of metal
Against that with powerful machines
Ready but not resourceful 
Purpose is defeated 

No longer dying for the nation 
Lets bring down those rebels
A call of duty to the north
They respond with gallant boots and courage 
They respond with pieces of metal on their hands 
They respond to a place where many have fallen 
Even at that, they fought gallantly 
They were made to improvise arms
Purpose is defeated 

They return with blood stained boots, hands and courage 
Their faces and pieces of metal looking down 
They have fought a good fight 
But sorrow lurks around our families 
Women now widows
Offsprings now orphans  
Uncle died as one of them 
Father retired as one of them
Pension still on attention, no ease? 
Purpose is defeated 

Purpose is here again 
Retreat!  Retreat!!  Retreat!!! 
Fela Kuti sang 'Zombie! '
Check point checking for phone users
Bloody civilians!  Dont make a call here! 
Sheep flogged, goats flee
They get recruited just for revenge
Purpose is defeated 

Purpose is here again today 
Where natural death is rare
People are killed 
People are killing 
People are on their way to kill
Cows are chewing crops
Crops are chewing cows
This is not normal! 
Purpose is defeated. 

©Kporho Vwede Daniel
 (a.k.a. General Ali official)

Twentyfabelthree

TwentyFabelThree 
TwentyFabelThree 
Viewpoint Of The Fish 
 
.< 
 
Invariably life is surmounted and over come with obstacles designed to amuse 
the abusers among the men the users of the clay to mold the old and make them 
pay for unimagined hurts inflicted by society when for all the world to see the hurt 
inscribed on them my enemy is nill and voided null and jointed separately 
intended to become a monument of mediocre missing intentions faltering 
commotions ending in so much incidental indentations of the misery of 
man. "Well-informed people know it is impossible to transmit the voice over 
wires and that were it possible to do so, the thing would be of no practical 
value." - Editorial in the Boston Post (1865) This has always been attributed to 
Thomas Alva Edison what he Rally said was this “To invent, you need a good 
imagination and a pile of junk.” Referring of course to the poetry list of the 
CharlaxAndroidSevenOne. The small boy was angry at us the fishermen we two 
were men and strong and using bits and pieces of the little ones to catch some 
larger for the skillet to add to beans we needed FISH and not just minnows we 
could eat. “The fish feel pain” is what the boy said “just like humans do.” “NO” 
both the eye and my friend agreed “they do not feel the same as you as eye as 
we.” My friend became morose and actually tossed his minnows back and eye 
grabbed all my pieces of the fish that eye was using just for bait and tossed as 
far into the pond as fish could fly away from me the boy was not so easily undone 
and mollified he wept and my friend tried to help him to get over it and frowning 
eye was sorry for the day and beans we ate and beans we stayed and then eye 
dared to make the complaint. “BOY is crazy we need to eat.” If you want to add to 
this meal old man just go to the field and gather up some green onions eye have 
plantered them in haste but they are long enough for yew to eat today. Hurriedly 
eye rushed between the raindrops to get at the vegetables and then we 
smashed the beans and made them into refried. The onions we ate as aside 
dish was full of skillet mess 
wait
    my fabels is long but iff ewe love mee ewe will go now to part two

Premium Member Boxing Day

It’s boxing day (the Brit name for the day after Christmas) and Pamela, Lisa’s grandmother is visiting our little pandemic ark. Pamela’s a Cowboys fan so we’re watching them slaughter Washington - between commercials - but now a Tesla commercial is running. “Those electric cars,” Pamala says dubiously, “seem problematic.”

“You’ve heard of global warming, haven’t you, Pamala?” Leeza says? Leeza addresses everyone (even her grandmother) as if they were her age (12). It’s both seductive and lazy. “This whole system,” she raises her arms to include the apartment, the city and America, “will collapse - we’re DOOOOMED,” she concludes, as if speechifying to an eager crowd.

“Everyone’s heard of climate change,” Pamela says, sipping her eggnog. Pamela is as well informed as any of us and seems rather envious of the future, even the coming awfulness. 
“Leeza’s her own theatre,” Her mom says, grimacing indulgently.
Leeza’s full attention was now on the pastry tray - having spotted two small eclairs under the bear claws - she'd lost interest in the conversation and saving the planet.

“The system won’t collapse,” Will says. Will received his early acceptance letter from Harvard the other day and now he knows everything. “We’ll lose Florida, South Carolina and New York,” he pronounces calmly, “so there’ll be some.. migrations.”
“Thank you, professor,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes as if to say ”Harvard people.”
“I think the Covid might get us all - before climate change,” I say, in the spirit of the holiday.
“Well,” Will says, grinning, “that’s what ALL the people at inferior colleges think.”

Leeza, passing by my easychair, curls into my lap like a cat, gently petting my hair. “Don’t be mean to MY friend,” she says, purringly - I was suddenly her possession. Lisa comes out of her chair, a sly smile on her face, to lay crosswise atop Leeza (and me).
“Ugg,” I managed to say, squirming to get comfortable, then “Akkkk.” 
Lisa says, “Leave my poor roomie alone!” and starts baby-kissing my head.” 
Will starts in our direction like HE’S going to pile on. “Egggg! I shrek, “HELP!”
Pamela whoops with glee as Dallas scores another touchdown.
“Like beating a dead dog with a stick,” she says.


Mortal Mother

Does it matter?
The future of our country, our world, the billions we're destined to create 
Legacies built on humble ground form concrete jungles our sun cannot appreciate 
Generations past saw less importance to sustain 
Industry took place of sowing each vital grain
Filth fills our oceans, scatters the lands, and litters impressionable minds
More attentive equals more aware, requiring us to read between the lines
Willed to us great power and ever evolving ignorance 
A choice to conform and ignore or seek out reverence
Generations ahead we cannot fathom have a future dependent on your uneducated selection
So many youth remain unaffected refusing to follow our direction
Unaware of Time as years are carefully woven thru deaths spindle
Spend wisely should apply to all which may eventually dwindle 
Mother Nature will undoubtedly tire and she too, as us all, will expire
Be careful to Heed her warnings as they continually transpire
Passing the buck is no longer a valid option
Ambivalence is man made, a deadly concoction that will prove to be our most potent toxin
Extinction is not a myth, do you have dinosaurs as your neighbor?
Did you go to school with t-Rex smith?
sorry to say that your beliefs aren't relevant but who cares where you go in the end if all you left behind were empty cans and a big screen television.
It is a gift to exist, yet it's taken for granted, to really live we must embrace vision.
Preceded by people who changed everything but even the bravest of brave were only highly reactive. 
This world we've been handed can only be changed by actions deemed as proactive. 
We live in a bubble that we blindly assume is indestructible. 
Well informed fools continue their path, blithely ignoring the undeniable. 
Do you not feel mortal?
It's clear to some but many can not see the extensive damage we've done 
Signs are everywhere, the challenge will be the years to come
An urgent call to action, thinkers and doers are among the highest in demand. 
Open your eyes to what can be done,
Inspire your children to lend a tiny, yet capable hand.
Or choose to perpetuate civil destruction by sticking your head back in the sand

Premium Member Sunset Over the Landfill

Turbulant radient red sky with sheet swirl mashed potato
cloud mush peered lazily through a curious brown
haze of dirty armpit fizz, enlisted somewhere
bewteen a prebeginning solar start dot deposit burst peak
and a futuristic nuclear waste singulsr hand mitten
all in lieu of a sadeyed slowburn glowing tuxedo-still
and looking on with rolled up flannel sleeve gross
passivity. I slurped around the grand gravel
entrance up and down brown round and rocky
pinging and jumping. Wide spaces
grappling with the refuse laden humo motif of
endeless manwomanchildpet pickings. I round the teetering
trough trench like curves unwitnessed to the sight beholding
ever present but none as gigted. Poor mouth
super excrement excuses like duct tape type at the end
of its reality roll---never enough for the final fix.
I watched as multitruck things silently
dispatchingly dispersed and unloaded their 
grusome garbage waves on good mother earth.
Battles can leave muscles working as man and time spitspent
slowcuspocus appendages working at top mph
pushing shoving shoveling piling before the light
pace calls it another disgusting dillday.
without the slighest the remorse--my stomach began 
to wrenchabit and my eyewells passed be free
me. The gulls some truck lenght away were
spuriously sifting smilingly through the
human wreckings in a last light meal
remedial refrain--as intense as
the dumpers became the dumpees. I angered as
the populace as myself delivered my putrid parlay
and proceded to the mass exit as if it were
OK. The quality of messy mercy stops at the buck. I need not squander the dull likings of my kind
of indifferenleunce on the hapless mis constraints of
a well informed psuedo citizenery. I hope the land rebels
someday and eats us all by the very
seeds we so sow. Garbage is as garbage does
but it's the tidy attitude of human complacency that
wipes my ass so clean---look to the trash cans for---hope.

The Man Behind the Mirror

Behind the mirror, the man is seen

Where on our streets surrounded, Friends

Thousands met cold, untimely death

With screamed echoes of souls unrest

Bullets flied, guns blasted ceaselessly

Children dead in their mothers’ arms

Father, for his lost son searched

Found him only, with parts cut in shreds.

 


Behind the mirror, was the man there?

Our Young children, to soldiers turned

Educated only in field of war

Guns carried, bigger than they can bear

Faught battles, of no cause but fear

To read or write, they dared not do

But to shoot or kill, well informed they were.

 


The man behind the mirror, how did he rest?

Our babies, dead while he sound slept

In his glorious, paradise mirror he kept

Still offered nothing, but violence more

Promised, inflicted upon innocents, murder

If anyone dared open their mouths to speak

Or, if orders came of his seat to render.

 


Behind that mirror, my freedom he took

Our homes Burned; our stores looted

Citizens, chased out of a land to love

Forced into exile for years so many

Adapted to a culture so not ours

From scratch, we started to build

Until bit by bit, we rose so high above

Like an eagle, up up and away.

 


The man behind the mirror, for him I always blame

The color so dark, on our backs stained

Bruises so deep, forever left to heal

Visions of his bloody watch, repeatedly, us plagued

Flashbacks of dear ones loved, Snatched,

And palmed away by cruel, hateful death

With tumbled bodies over bodies

All soiled up into one tiny hole.




Behind that mirror, the man will always be

With blissful look in his red, budging eyes

Wishing evil gleefully, with a dark smile

His laughter,joy, through my anguish I see

My heart beats fast, like a thunder sound

And the more my hate for him increase




Oh how I wish, that mirror came crashing down

Then, a taste of his own medicine, he shall get
© Teto Korha  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Bio

5 Cars Merge Then Vanish

5 cars of the vehicular kind merged then vanished
Drove instantly inside one another to disappear
Solid lead rained down on them as well
Melted, evaporated, the evidence presented clear
Another clue, according to the view
Proved to be conclusive to that end

Detectives drew a line with good intentions well defined
Using chalk thought to be made of calcium carbonate
Found on some rock site undisclosed, remote
A soft, white, porous, sedimentary item found in nature
Formed from strange marine life at an undersea location
Eons ago at night as if it mattered to any one

This is pure speculation, a supposition of course
A hypothesis thought to be weak at best
Yet accepted in legal circles as concrete 
Science crossed their hearts and hoped to die
If their findings were a lie 
Around that which they oddly called a crime

Teachers line up calculators on the vacant scene
Loaded with batteries, black boards and cameras
Chalk comes in handy for drawing cartoon cars
Students! Love your teachers for that reason 
As you love being graded on a curve

Data confirmed there were 5 cars in motion
On the lot and at that location
Students in attendance testified cross-eyed
Well informed according to their word
Vehicular occurrences are rare but happen

It is reasonable to assume the sound of chalk was heard
Screeching marks along the bounderies of a curb 
Within the boarders of conclusions reached where lines are drawn
On the ground remained an empty place
An echo, nothing more
Vacancy kept in its place

Over zealous detectives state the facts as found
Cars don't travel just to disappear
Covered in lead melted down to vanish
Parameters of sight are well within speed limits            
In broad daylight it is easy to see clear logic 
Unless the FBI become involved
Roll in like fog
Problem discovered, problem solved

Premium Member Minus identity who am I

Written: June 30, 2024 For Unseeking Seeker Contest

Quote by Aristotle "Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom"

                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My bid to solve the conundrum was fruitless.
Yes, our baffling species can't be rootless.
In the middle of the silence of my privacy.
And amid the well-informed set of primacy.

Man has a hodgepodge of inconsistent data.
We discern that it's a sly topic of alpha and beta.
So enigmatic, just beyond comprehension.
Sinister and heavenly beings coexist in tension.

Each life leads to a core, albeit stated or static.
Aims are inherent to human status, not erratic.
Arguably reluctantly recognizing its brilliance,
Trust audacity breeds resilience.

They carefully revere it as a fragile utopia to win.
We are unable to grasp a rainbow vivid spin.
But he pressed on, equanimous to the distance.
The sky rewards diligent deeds with insistence.

Revamping as a chameleon, tearing layers of skin.
I'm donning a dark cape and gliding into the scene.
When my gloom pulses akin to a hiss in my ears,
I recklessly embrace and succumb to my fears.

I'm cruising down, wondering what this means.
Who is the real me, with my threads fraying at seams?
Am I reckless, terrified, or even human under here?
Am I cruel or bonny? Which of my brain coils is clear?

Maybe it's just one aspect of my identity.
Continues to operate within my entity.
However, my actual self is a hollow grave.
When hearts break, legs turn jelly, as slaves.

I shall opine minus identity, envy, or vanity.
No work or economic stability can annoy me.
No status goals, no phony levity, will rule him.
My spirit will be freed after living a quiet whim.

Borderline: without me, what universe is mine?
Is it just me, embracing each day as it shines?
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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