Long Workable Poems
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Off and on through the years I dated and maintained a relationship with an influencing entity named Vivid Imagination. Still today on occasion, Vivid visits and we collaborate on various topics or subjects while I continue my unintended search for more wrinkles and gray hairs. Vivid and I have had what I contend to be a pleasant relationship over the years. I sometimes revisit the things we “created” together. Some of those things were successful from a creative point of view and some were not, but the experiences they provided were useful and rewarding. We were “sailing along” famously for several years …
UNTIL …
Another entity injected itself into that relationship.
That other entity was named Ree Ality. Vivid and Ree were instant nemeses. Constant, continual, and incessant conflict was almost always the result of their affronts. But I have to admit there were times when I had to distance myself from Vivid and entertain Ree's presentation(s).
Over the years, an uneasy yet workable “ceasefire” has developed between these two very different entities. Oh, there are still some “flare-ups” occasionally, but for the most part “compromises” have been found which work out. Unfortunately, I am the one who is expected to find that “middle-ground” and design that compromise. Those compromises have not always landed in the “win” column, but they have allowed day-to-day life to continue, albeit a bit “rougher” than before.
So, my unintended pursuit of wrinkles and gray hair has continued in the background and has amassed an impressive collection, I must admit, but I find I can live with myself and my decisions with little regret. I must attribute that status to my two companion entities: Vivid and Ree. They’ve kept me balanced and, to a degree, saner than I might otherwise have become.
Here’s a prose toast to Vivid Imagination and Ree Ality! I couldn’t have made the “trip” without either of you.
Thanks!
Dimmed Eyes crack their shells first.
You rise up in the half light of a fading moment.
This is the plane – wait, tie a rope
hitch it to a trading places moment.
When you passed away
leaving a layer of makeup and clothes strewn
upon a tilting floor
the mind went wandering on its own,
it returns now with the debris it found
loosely bundled into a persona.
Twist some knots into memory.
Plan a-head, then insert body
as an Allen key does into the right
socket.
Be sure to leave your big red heart plug
jammed tightly into this matrix of
electrified reality.
Loose ends can dangle for a while.
You’re within a workable shape now,
you’re fingers in a glove.
Time to shuffle self-consciously
from behind the lens,
let eyes see what no other being can see,
for your hand-made once more,
spun-out into an opaque silk by mind-moths
and now can fly blind
utterly unnoticed.
I'm not much attached to this body,
it feels like it's on a short leash
while the brain drags it around
like a reluctant old dog.
Long cantankerous years
have pummeled it into a shape
it never used to own, never saw coming.
I am by no means special
we all acquire these 'special' parts,
that cling to us like limpets and lichen
many are visible only to the mind.
Tree's show their scars on the outside
internal excrescences run deeper.
Wasted landscapes never repopulated
are sutured integral with still verdant fields,
still workable earth
but we know
that vehicles this unwieldy
have no fail-safe switch
even if we could find it.
Our Opossum Has a Strong Propensity for Crime
By Frank Daub
Discovered in a backyard nighttime check –
an opossum wandering behind our garden shed.
Pin-pointed face, squinting eyes.
It did not run -- to my surprise.
Only staring, lighted softly by the porchlight.
Little.
Sleek in a white-gray-tan-straight-fur-slicked-down way.
The streets around are not friendly to its kind.
This unfair truth made up my mind.
I should let the shed-bottom harbor it.
This would require: FEEDING.
I decided the feeding plan -- without data-based reference --
would be workable.
I tried every sort of natural vegetable.
Walnuts added when the berries nurtured
hordes of ants --
Not
the opossum.
The dietary effort proved it.
Our opossum has a strong propensity for crime.
Particular it is to nighttime
sneaking forays - for food of course.
(This assured the legality of it for me.)
Our opossum was not particular to dietary do’s and don’ts;
Being just inclined to FEEDING its necessary wants.
The animal had a penchant – not a preference --
an exceeding zest for anything edible.
Incredible.
January 7 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 22-24
Key Verse– Genesis 22:8 And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both of them together.
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO PROVIDES FOR US
Praise be to God for providing for us midst tests for us to:
Love Him more sincerely
Lift up our eyes to Him always
Learn from Him as the Jehovah jireh
Lay ourselves on His alter of sacrifice
Listen to His Word while worshipping Him
Lean on Him for His guidance
Lead others to experience His blessings
Live in faith toward heavenly pursuits
Genesis 23:1 Praise be to the Lord for blessing us with:
Precious salvation so eternal
Prayer answers so wondrous
Peaceful victory so blissful
Priceless blessings so bountiful
Genesis 24:12 Praise be to the Saviour for showing kindness unto us with His:
Wellness-care
Wise directions
Winning courage
Worthy treasures
Workable plan
Genesis 24:26 Praise be to the Almighty Whom we worship in our:
Prosperous journey
Persevering job-fulfillment
Prevailing joy
Progressive service
Prepared heart
Persistent Bible-meditation!
January 7, 2024
if you want your conversations to be
more stable,
Never having to sleep in the stable,
Then conversations over the breakfast table,
Or the tea table,
Whenever you are able,,
Will give you a life that is more workable.
A day planned at the table,
Means no dishes in the sink,
or on the table,
No crumbs on the floor,
As you are heading out the door,,
Giving no reason for the slamming of the door.
Congenial conversations over coffee at your table,
Brings others to the table,
Who will always respect you and your home,
Whenever you are home,
To enjoy conversations at your table,
So, you can have a life that is more stable.
It's the night before Christmas and I and the cat,
Patrol the house in search of that,
Which could cause harm to kith or kin;
Though the job is mine the cat is my friend,
So he comes along to help where he can,
And we have devised a workable plan.
He'll give the call if he sees something strange,
And I'll come a-runnin', that's what we've arranged.
The war cry he gives is a terrible screech,
And I have to admit it gives me the creeps.
One night 'bout this time a few years ago,
We thought we heard something outside in the snow.
The cat crept up to the window sill,
And he gave a cry that was eerie and shrill.
The folks were all gone, they were at church,
And up on the roof came a clatter and lurch.
Then some strange old man in a funny red suit,
Came down the chimney with a sack filled with loot.
Without hesitation I was on the attack.
None of our stuff would he put in that sack.
Back up the chimney he flew in disgrace,
And reindeer were running all over the place.
They took off like a rocket, swooped low and then high.
I swear that I never knew reindeer could fly.
Some poor old lady was out in the street.
Never knew what hit her, it was reindeer feet.
Her husband stood staring in total dismay,
And they sing about her to this very day.
How on her way home from the church which was near,
Grandma got run over by eight reindeer.
It's the night before Christmas and I and the cat,
Are on the alert but he won't be back.
(now you know the rest of the story)
He used to be a hoarder of clues
would keep them in a mind-binder.
Imagine the surprise
when all the clues turned into blank pages
It happens,
a person has a thousand ways
to figure out this world.
He thought he saw some patterns
in this messy conundrum of reality
He had conjectured – had formed workable theories
had constructed reasonable solutions for all the big puzzles
that bewildered and bedeviled other folks.
Then poof….all his clues became unglued.
Now he knows nothing for sure
He tries to write
about all the clues he once had
but he has lost faith in clues
especially missing clues,
even when they seem to hint at answers
point to explanations or breakthroughs
or allude to a better understanding,
one as clear as daylight perhaps -
not even.
He doesn’t trust the clear light of day either
but wonders now
what that light is hiding?
No More Rain (Tim Flannerys Prediction)
by Robert (Bob) Moore
Tim woke up this morning, banged his head against the wall
I once told the people, “no more rain would fall”
so they built a desalination plant, to purify sea water
hope they don’t send me the bill, but I guess they really oughta
It has rained quite a bit since then, it’s raining here today
the ice caps are still melting, and some small islands washed away
but we will get a drought again, of that there is no doubt
and others like our Tim, will be chanting doomsday all about
I am not saying Man, has not stuffed up this Planet bad
but it’s been done so we could have, the life that we have had
but turning our lights on and off, will not fix the damage done
we need to make some solid plans, not windfarms and some sun
We need scientists to come together, make our energy all clean
not argue, and point the finger, about what’s already been
a workable solution, with conservation, starting first
and maybe build another dam, before the ones we have all burst
The nadir of insanity, is engendered by a
controlling
Humanity, who on impulses of awareness
of mortality in all fairness.) Does
Propulse their very thinking.? And with efforts always plinking.' Whilst in despair and never blinking, dazelled by much lighting, and daubed in cosmetics..Its all rather frightening, and might well effect actions of health and thought connection.' Always dealing and extruding confidence
As precluding any workable continuam there is great proclivity, to? To? I'll term it
' turbo-binning ' as the waste of all their intense-ity.. biights earth and heaven with monstrosity's there is no
end to in truth; just 'oddity's' A 1970s car i'm told fired away.? I
Fail to see there beauty.. Rather insecurity its somewhat sad.. I sense, just some thoughts today.' As lost in denial.' Of reality (and certain files?) Not to mention trials.. They tinker with vials..Containing whatever.? Will make them. Younger;
ever clever clever.? To me its real alien, and why direction is failing.'
Its a loop despair ' and deep fear it seems that that drives them to eventually no-where.'