The Look Is Fast As The Speed of Light
I got the look!
Instantaneous…eyes snap sidewise faster than the speed of light…
Freeze tag pinned in place…
Duh da da duh… I'm in trouble, blown something…
No question… no room for doubt… Yet not really…
Dad's unique cue… falling in between traditional parenting cracks… Straddling between discipline and time to nip this one in the bud…
That I can't believe _____ (fill in the blank) … I'm annoyed… to… well.. fits almost any category
A genetic predisposition… or inheritance?
Who cares? I got it! It's mine!
The girls got the look…
Doug. He's more than a worthy mention. Countless outcries… Don't give me the look!
Too late, once you said “don't” ….it's fait accompli!
Sherry Barton
May 10, 2024
Categories:
predisposition, appreciation, childhood, father, growing
Form: Prose
Dear mom,
Liar…
That’s what’ve called me all my life
I’m tired
My heart hurts
You think I’m selfish
When I know that’s the last thing I am
I’m the most unselfish
You don’t get it
Pushing me away
Hurting me
It needs to stop
It’s killing me
I’m angry with myself
I don’t know what I did
To make you feel this way about me
To think I’m a selfish liar
What did I do ma
Is it because of the predisposition
Is it because I was born by some druggies
What is it ma
There’s things that shall stay unsaid
Because sadly you wouldn’t believe
Even if it was written in the stars
It’s sad I gotta live my life labeled
Labeled as a liar a selfish liar
When’s it gonna stop ma
I’m tired ma
I’m hurting ma
Oh please ma, what did I do
Categories:
predisposition, anger, character, heartbreak, sad,
Form: Free verse
It’s facilitating what life
Meanwhile disburse
Instances of joy
Suddenly become dismal
A surrender of the best part
The one person that owns
The very beat of my heart
9 months of transport
Seems to vanish
Oh how I wish I could banish
The events that took you away
I have so much left to say
The incomplete questions
That will always have me in a predisposition
If your death was in the Almighty’s will
I will never comprehend it
Dignified or in stillness
The agonizing will never extinguished
Because you have been chosen
For the tranquility of extinction
Categories:
predisposition, death, farewell, goodbye, pain,
Form: Free verse
your predisposition to fearlessness is what makes
you a warrior unfortunatley it is also what grants
you the tools to become the perfect killer.. in an era
born of cowards confusion and expression it is easier
to satisfy the desire of righteousness through righting
the wrongs by spilling the blood of those who
knowlingly and willingly choose to remain ignorant...
Categories:
predisposition, abuse, art,
Form: Rhyme
Disgrace is a word which is not quite close
To the word predisposition,
Still, you will be your colors of harbinger of spring
And your endnote will be “Cheers!”
Categories:
predisposition, heartbroken,
Form: Free verse
I heard the news today,
Oh Boy
About another Terrorist Attack
That stopped the press
Just another opportunity for all to say
I wonder what made them do it ?
What we're they thinking ?
But why indeed should anyone care ?
I think in order to truly genuinely understand or answer these questions
You would have to be no better and suffer the same unflinching predisposition and God complex
That makes a psychopath tick
and think he has the right to decide ?
Who exactly gets to live and go home
to their families and loved one's ?
&
Who gets no final goodbye loses a child , mother or be that
father today and have to start planning a funeral ?
It's a strange old world made all the worse by embattled
bitter people searching to appease their own personal
pain by harming other's
Under the pretense and killing in the name of
The Almighty Father
Categories:
predisposition, slam,
Form: Free verse
Professor Petal, one of Patrick’s prolific pals,
Professed he had a Pollyanna Predisposition
Properly pronouncing pronouns without perky p’s.
A pithy proclivity, providing pollution to Professor Petal’s pronunciations.
Prissy Professor Patty from Prestigious Prussian Planet Philisophi-university,
Precariously prickled, privately at Professor Petal’s Pronoun-predicament.
Prissy Patty promptly planned a plane trip to Professor Petal’s Pre-existing pub.
Where placidly placed, Professor Petal, prevailed as President of Porous Pool Table Pro.
Privacy prevailed, as Professor Patty, presently at Pub, perceived Professor Petal.
Prissy Patty, partook of Paradise Pop-In-Pink Parboils, as she patty-caked in the pub.
Prissy Patty was soon pretty Patty, and Petal took her home, a primed and perfect professor.
Plenty of preemptive laughs prevailed, as they both wondered what pronoun begins with a P anyway?
Categories:
predisposition, 10th grade, 4th grade,
Form: Alliteration
Wrinkles happen,
we're not Hollywood starlets who have the unlimited resources to appear younger, the best trainers, costly surgery, chemicals to take away flaws.
We are all helpless to prevent the problems that come with age and our genetic predisposition.
What we can do, and control, is the willingness to take the risks, necessary to be together.
Learning from the mistakes we've made over our lifetimes.
Returning to a time of innocence, when our hearts were free to love,
and our spirits unfettered by distance and time.
A magic time,
when the rest of the world didn't exist.
Only our connection that felt timeless,
and never ending.
Happiness that amazed when our eyes met again,
registering on our faces,
originating from within.
Categories:
predisposition, absence,
Form: Free verse
Could a man possibly fulfill the role of a house husband?
How could he overcome his genetic predisposition,
to leave the toilet seat up, and if he misses a bit,
no worries, a few stains never hurt.
A woman cleans every nook and cranny,
and demands excellence in the cleanliness of her nest.
A man ignores the nooks and crannies,
and only cleans up if his mom is coming to visit.
How is it possible then,
a retired man could cook, clean, and support in every way,
a woman who allows him to fill the position of house husband,
giving him to opportunity to be in her employ,
and allowing him to meet the standards she is accustomed to?
The answer is,
he must know her heart,
respect her identity,
want her satisfaction,
as much as his own.
Only then could the shackles of man's nature come off,
allowing him to establish a new comfort zone,
new habits in place of the old,
ingrained by tradition,
and what he's been told.
Categories:
predisposition, care,
Form: Free verse
Could a man possibly fulfill the role of a house husband?
How could he overcome his genetic predisposition,
to leave the toilet seat up, and if he misses a bit,
no worries, a few stains never hurt.
A woman cleans every nook and cranny,
and demands excellence in the cleanliness of her nest.
A man ignores the nooks and crannies,
and only cleans up if his mom is coming to visit.
How is it possible then,
a retired man could cook, clean, and support in every way,
a woman who allows him to fill the position of house husband,
giving him to opportunity to be in her employ,
and allowing him to meet the standards she is accustomed to?
The answer is,
he must know her heart,
respect her identity,
want her satisfaction,
as much as his own.
Only then could the shackles of man's nature come off,
allowing him to establish a new comfort zone,
new habits in place of the old,
ingrained by tradition,
and what he's been told.
Categories:
predisposition, care,
Form: Free verse
Slow, as if in pearls of eternity
this infinite time became molded into peace
I lingered there within serenities breath
communion upon a galaxies edge
lay the breadth of creation at my feet
Replete to the overflowing brim
this spirit soul of I
held countenance
and the concourse of angels betrothed
gave its summoning to all my earthborn family
Slow; as if of pearls in all eternity
in this timeless belove-ed lay the mystery of peace
And peace it was that gave me cause
return the sands to hour glass
return this predisposition of light to form
fill the experience with its empty maw
and so in willingness suffer the bond
It was asked of me
by such perpetual belove-ed
to set such sacrifice to loves immortal alter
Slow; she breathes
the rhythmic waves echo a hearts beat of peace
and by miracles form
I slowly become
the image of serenities breath
Categories:
predisposition, birth,
Form: Free verse
I’ve watched him whither. He came to me a decade ago, stooped in pain. The fine-boned features of his face and the clarity of his Irish skin still holding on to a genetic predisposition to beauty. He was a small man, but in height only, the oceans filled his heart. For a decade, I held him upright. With the help of God, his shoulders, upon which Atlas stood, released their burden, pulled back from their curl about his core. Touch was a healing balm from the helter-skelter of his life. As my fingertips and palms, the heel of my hand explored his dis-ease; he thawed, not like a snowflake but a glacier. Decades of stuffed down regret, and remorse cajoled to release with no expected outcome but rest.
the clutter
of his life surrounds –
snow falls
Parts once strong: pride that flew, legs that skied, eyes that could take the measure of a man; now, rest every afternoon. There is no need now to mark the time. Still, he wears a watch, a Christmas gift from his love. The office lays footsteps from his backdoor. He feels they still need him.
his sailboat
sits wrapped in canvass –
winter wind’s blow
Liquid Imagination August 2014
Categories:
predisposition, age, dream, love,
Form: Haibun
Like the seed of a tree being planted my drunken father planted his. Interwoven with the x and y chromosomes was a predisposition and Miller high life. Wacthing his seedling grow was not enough for him to keep his own life. At the age of 3 the twisted and moss covered tree of his life died. It provided the soil for my soul to grow away from the Son. My dead limbs never tended to by my father and ignored by my mother. I was growing the tree of my fathers dreams. Exciding and shattering his expectations at the age of 15. I was branching out to any light whether black or artificial. My leaves growing , touching and tainting the branches of twisted and moss covered trees just like me.
Categories:
predisposition, addiction,
Form: Bio
Sometimes I feel like a duck out of water,
The greener grass is the water when I fly
And the water when I am natant.
My feathers equally ambivalent
My brain benevolently beset
The curious quandary belied by the placidity of this
Mirror in which I repose and reflect.
Mywondrous will so disposed to inertia
That I am quite averse to aviation
But the mere kinesis of flight
Prods my psyche to that profound euphoria.
And then looms that not-so-ugly duckling
To whom I am devilishly drawn.
What manner of urgency beckons me?
What end do I seek?
Why is this predisposition so prevalent?
Who is that pricks my pique and piques my prick?
When will I no longer feel such, such, such ... love?
And where is that Nirvana?
I feel like the centipede that forgot how to run.
Is there no outcome to this conundrum?
No resolution to this pregnant poser?
Too many options spoil my perspective
And I cannot compute the consequences.
To seek is not to have lost.
To seek is the eternal evidence of Life
As life is evidence of the eternal.
Categories:
predisposition, humorous, water, water, perspective,
Form: Light Verse
I think that I shall never see
As lovely a dichotomy --
Soul serene, secure in beauty,
Fearful, though, of social duty,
Thoughtful lover, unrequited
By your own predisposition,
Home alone with Truth united --
A modern metaphysician.
Passions rage; you arrange a truce
Between your sparrows and your snakes.
Soul-searching makes you a recluse,
Lost in imaginary wakes.
Dressing Vision in Fantasy’s clothes,
Your poems make Heaven from Hell.
Through loneliness and mortal woes,
Your spirit gets on very well.
You, nobody? It’s just not true!
Sweet Emily, we all know you.
Categories:
predisposition, on writing and words,
Form: Quatrain
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