I am weary of politics,
its plastic people
and the endless lies,
the glorification
of the outrageous antics
of the rich and famous,
the intolerance
and exclusivity preached
by most religions,
sensationalist media
who seek to deceive
and divide for the sole
purpose of ratings.
I am tired of excuses
and the way in which
honest people are exploited,
the power of big corporations
and angered by the mistreatment
of our planet. I am sick
of the promises made
by a world addicted to wealth
and the necessity to own
the latest must have gadget
and the modernist doctrine
of the primacy of the “self”.
We have lost our way
by abandoning the sacred,
the soulful connection
to the earth and what lay
beyond. My old and perhaps
naive mind imagines an ideal
where the world and life is not
configured to serve our most
unholy needs
but to those that will lift us
towards the greater good.
Internal inhibition is a virtue of the day,
A conscientious calling to be true in every way,
A vision of decision in the things you say and do,
Internal inhibition is a moral issue too,
In spite of what you think of it you have to face the fact,
Internal inhibition is the fiction you subtract,
The urgency emergency of agency remains,
The subtle way that surgency is summoning your brains,
You may have thought your feelings were the first to be explored,
The primacy of dealings with a stranger you ignored,
The notion of emotion is a cautionary state,
A stage of locomotion with a customary wait,
The modesty of wisdom is a wonder to behold,
A coat of many colors with a condom in the fold,
No matter what the wonder in your functionality,
Internal inhibition is your cloak of honesty.
May 17, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 30 poetry contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Once again unrelenting sadness knocks at my door,
Like the inveterate seeker of my generous charity
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
Could it be that I am a lone favored mark to score?
And I am deigned to entertain gloom incessantly
Once again, unrelenting sadness knocks at my door.
Would that I could be like others who in autumn soar
And, seeing in falling leaves, they hope abundantly,
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
I find at autumn’s advent a bitter chilling to the core
Rising to the level of self-uncontrolled ascendancy,
Once again, unrelenting sadness knocks at my door
Every year I have vowed I’ll not suffer again, I swore,
But this annual sadness I cannot explain from infancy
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
Worse still, I have become a nauseous, weary boor,
Complaining and whining that this SAD has primacy.
Once again, unrelenting sadness knocks at my door
Calls on others like me and always demanding more.
written October 30, 2021
I’m in a rank and sullen mood.
I’m sick and tired of getting screwed.
I mean to revel in the glory of the Word.
I’ll sail a raft of good intentions
‘cross an ocean vast as hell
So I can revel in the glory of the Word.
I mean to revel in the glory
as I advertise my story,
Every paragraph and sentence will be heard.
Tell all wicked unbelievers,
and those strays with cat scratch fevers,
We shall revel in the glory of the Word.
It’s like a dog day afternoon.
It’s like a picnic on the moon
When we don’t revel in the glory of the Word.
It pumps the heart of a thesaurus.
It rocks a dictionary’s soul.
We’re meant to revel in the glory of the Word.
We’re gonna revel in the glory
as we climb that promontory
Where our vision of redemption isn’t blurred
By the demagogues who blind us
to the primacy of kindness
When we revel in the glory of the Word.
Primacy spring hue
light of oddity wonder
on the horizon
Came here without my consent
Ended up in a party aboard Titanic
Going South, fast.
What is Pursuit of happiness?
Feeding your pleasures relentless?
Or following your ambitions, towed by opportunity.
Or it could be staying still, comfy in your cocoon.
Skeletons in my closet and dirty laundry
Making up my legacy, mea maxima culpa
I am sum of all anomalies.
I couldn't exit, with my full consent.
What is life trying to prove?
Looks pathetic, with all survival strategies, thanks to serendipity.
Randomness institutionalised, only to crash and burn at every turn.
Senses competing for primacy, leading to tyranny of wants, becoming a destiny unto itself.
Leaving numb and indifferent.
Sensations so fleeting, unsure about default jealousy.
Could be yet another emotional maze, that l stare at.
Growing up on God's impoverishing family farm,
he learned to hide his work
in tissues of unearthly privacy.
Regenerating in Earth's richly resonant nutrition,
she recovered her playful avocations
in ecosystemic response
to global over-grasping issues
of under-conscious
her/his-storied
positive domesticity
Over-privatized
so powers under-privileged;
personalized
so shy of compelling
retelling publicity
Earth camouflaged
democratically healthy ecopolitics,
co-empowering
co-operating
co-generating
co-laterally co-investing
co-systemic
ego/eco-analogical
co-passion.
Growing out on Earth's extending family farm,
he learned to share his playful work
with issues of unEarthly
inhumane
left-hemispheric primacy.
discovered primacy birthright
(i.e. revanchist deeded sic - seeded),
what "she," viz Mother Nature
felt tubby "her" right,
bar no holds Gaia
pulled out all stops
punishingly ravaged North Carolina
mercilessly didst wring
havoc bore out flooding
and proved accurate "NON
FAKE" fervent devout
alarmist theologians
appropriating weather forecasters dire
prediction as doomsday message
fore taste testing, telling, and texting
presaging Armageddon authored
by cosmic playwright,
whence global pulverizing,
savaging, and torturing spite
fully sucker punching
swing, perhaps indicative dire strait
(a hunch from this topflight
atheist) posits ultraright
religionists possibly ascribe
divine creator a bit uptight.
“Writing [maketh] an exact Man,”
claims Francis Bacon.
Macaulay’s Minutes is our bible.
Derrida emphasizes
the Primacy of Writing.
Freedom to write is also guaranteed—
by our Indian Constitution!
So, our children at school do write a lot—
in the classroom,
as part of their homework,
as assignments;
write a lot of tests:
their test of spoken language, too,
is a written test!
Isn’t it hard work?
Yes, but that’s the price they must pay—
For the freedom NOT to think!
***
Composed on November 16, 2017.
Winner I, Photostory Contest, sponsored by Eve Roper, December 2, 2017.
endowing superlative creature comforts
reduce wretched survivors scant band of bare naked ladies
beastie boys, foo fighters espying counting crows
ready to buzzfeed toe kin *****sapiens
bereft, expunged, faux invincibility kickstarting
learning basic survival skills
forced to rescind twenty first century trappings
shifting paradigm sans primacy
pitting dishabille helpless imps against killers
who do not shrink from ethically principled
but give full reign to selfish callous deleterious foibles,
gruesome harmful indiscretions
sprouting with mushroom rhizome rapidity
ousting the omnipresently
(well nigh since time immemorial
virtues cultivated, futilely integrated, lending oomph
residentially, scientifically tendering ubiquitous DNA
foisting gabled, heralded, instilled,
justified kneaded love thy neighbor motto
lyft ting in one fell swoop delicately
embroidered, finely graven, heavenly ideals
no more patent leather shoes reflecting up
nor doodling Yankee staking claim to fame via feathered cap made of macaroni
thus such jingoistic, holistic, fabric ripped retroactively
ramping atavistic simian base,
thus leveling the playing field.
Mother Yin nurtures a domestic economy
which retains indigenous becoming within nature-spirit
nondual places
Yin,
a concaving womb
for as long as Earth's collective memory
of light and dualdark
may recall.
Patriarch Yang's convexly vertical strengths of hunting,
colonizing,
commodifying
segregating quantitatively deduced values,
are not a priori possible
without primacy
of nondual co-arising
bilaterally horizontal horizons
of yin's dawn with dusk
dualdark matriarchal sacred MoonTimes.
0-Soul
WinWin
in each here and now moment
of living and dying
with focusing bicameral balance
on matriarchy's polyculturing outcomes
easing patriarchy's recent past
of monocultural ego-over-investments,
turning now toward cooperative re-investments in Mother Earth
from which human nature
RNA-derived
to DNA thrive.
Beyond my consciousness,
in stark relief
A place beyond reason,
all spirits unleash
Beyond my awareness,
I inherit the wind
Each breath I blow inward,
new endings begin
Religion, a concept,
that God can’t abide
Dogma a pretense,
where idolaters hide
In my dreams there’s a voice,
that comes unannounced
Its structure on fire,
new words unpronounced
Time but a weapon,
to use on the weak
Its measuring stick,
to never complete
One question—one answer,
for all that transpires
In primacy wrapped,
no logic hard wired
The years I’d spent looking,
those moments I’d waste
When deep from inside,
with subliminal grace
The great Crazy Horse calls,
chanting words once unknown
“Your vision has freed you,
—its voice now your own”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
There is no
Judgement in
Nature, no right
And wrong, no lies
Or hatred, only the
Legitimacy of survival,
The struggle of hunger
And the fight to continue ...
Singularly, and as a species.
We worry so about chaos and
The return to savagery, but which
Is more brutal, to kill for the sake
Of survival, or to kill for the purpose
Of acquisition and greed? We observe
The "cold indifference" of the life-and-
Death struggle of the less "enlightened"
Creatures with an air of superiority and
Dominance, yet is it more remarkable to
Dominate for the sake of survival, or for the
Sake of selfishness and exploitation? Perhaps
A return to our origins and the basics of survival
Is what we need. It could certainly be argued that
Our intelligence and technology and dominance has
Not been a good thing for our world OR it's creatures,
And it could be easily argued that it hasn't TRULY been
For the benefit of our OWN species, either ... just look at
The world we have created, and the scars we have left on
Ourselves, our beautiful planet, and everything and everyone
ON it.
Aspens reaching skeletal fingers skyward
Grow the ancient boreal midnight mountain
reaching rooted primacy given taken
glorious prayer
The primacy of love is 'totalmente' undisputed,
An authority of orderliness in a tumultuous society,
A powerful dose to subdue war;
A conspicuous symptom of our world's malady.
Love 'originalism' is not 'paternalism' but an explicit form of 'maternalism',
It's not a brimborion expression nor a vacuous indoctrination,
It's not professions of some 'high-falutin' 'gran rabino',
But an absolute lifestyle of a dinkum person.
(c) 2011
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