the carrot and the stick... the carrot made me sick... I welcomed the stick
If you could have been
part of the population
in Hiroshima and Nagasaki
at ground zero
you would have seen
total annihilation
when the bombs were dropped
(Little Boy and Fat Man)
and if it weren't enough
you should become 'hibakusha'
victims of nuclear fallout radiation
the perpetrators censored the news
and only the survivors
were evidence all war must be stopped
Flowing with ease, in mode embrace and release,
looking neither ahead nor backward in time,
seeking no outcomes, no demons to appease,
leaving behind no residue, as we climb,
all doings are done as God Himself does please,
making all our actions blissful and sublime.
No karma’s attracted since there’s no one here,
as we thus breeze through life sans desire and fear.
a toddler chuckles
everybody's day is made ~
all smile ear to ear
Isaac Newton is said to have stated,
'For every action,
or force in nature,
there is an equal and opposite reaction.'
And the proof in his pudding is...
If I exert myself
in search of who knows what I want to be,
it also brings to bear
an equal and opposite influence on me.
As, by doing so,
my own headwind I create,
which inhibits my progress,
and the harder I push, or fixate,
the more resistance I set up,
so to speak,
and the farther away I am
from finding whatever it is I seek.
Indubitably, it's a rule of thumb,
the more forward I go,
all the further behind I become,
but is it better to do nothing at all,
than beat my head against
an invisible brick wall?
Found a poem I wrote by accident
That caused me to have a shocked reaction
It was on 'A hundred days of poetry'
On YouTube, day one, for all folk to see.
Though I was not asked for my permission
It was read so nice all was forgiven
I wrote it back in the days of Covid
When we wore masks to cover our noses.
The poem had the title "Have you Seen"
How for all the medics it must have been
And all of those who work behind the scenes
The helpers, caterers, all in the teams.
I wonder what guided me on that day
To see and hear my poem on display
Have we a guardian angel perhaps
Out there with their feathered wings under wraps.
When first invited
to The Land of Milk and Honey
where stars at night shone bright
and days there were always sunny
he demurred to go
Abraham was of a mind to politely decline
as wouldn't you know
he was lactose intolerant
and diabetic too so
the alleged Promised Land
would only guarantee
even more misery
but when he repented and relented
as his story unravels
more than 2,200 miles
by ox-cart he then travels
and tho' it's unsure if he found a cure
or the fire of his desire
to fulfill the dream which kept him alive
lo he lived to be an old soul of
one hundred and seventy five
sad tears scare people
men try to fix everything
women cry with friends
Reaction
my gut
reaction to
your leaving is one of
relief since your love for me is
long dead
A love more than perfect
physical-chemical plenitude
realized in complete reaction...!
The 2nd Trump Presidency Begins
To express my own Whitmanesque
"barbaric yawp", constrained by
internal (and external) barriers,
mentally constipated, I merely mutter,
feel pressures steadily mounting.
Hesitant, I expel grunts and breaths --
disinhibit streams of consciousness,
encourage verbal fluidity, ease
the heaviness I feel, the weight
upon my chest. I breathe deeply.
Physiological processes require
tiring conscious effort. I decide
to be calm, to relax, to direct
myself away from temporal reality
to mere existence without excess
self-awareness, without fearfiul
anticipation of "future", which
other animals on earth seem happily
to lack. (Or do they?)
Stop thinking!
(No! Don't!)
"Mumma,
Your brother touched me wrong"
She was shocked
She cried
Cut her ties
With her brother.
She listened
It stopped.
A she moved on.
"Mumma,
Your brother touched me wrong"
She assured
"I'll talk to him"
" But don't tell anyone "
"Shh!"
He kept coming
She listened
But it never stopped.
A she still there.
Do not want my aunt Martha to read this article
It is about her
She runs into my house shaking it
I am fearful at her reaction
“This is your mother, isn’t it?” she demands
It is actually part of me and them
and everyone else I have ever known
Each reaction
Is a fraction
Of shared action.
wallflower was she
not noticing he
he asked her to dance
her heart did a prance
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