Reigning in cluster the edge of steep scarp,
the flock of mine sprawls so very proud.
I’m a meek loner in the midst of them all,
for each one is happy to be in the crowd.
As I’m secluded in a ditch of sequestration,
the kinship camaraderie they show with flair.
For my innate nature I’m often jeered,
since their line of subservience I don’t tow.
In their group I’m the strayed one,
my own person, I’m the odd one.
I’m branded as an aberrant madcap,
for in my candid way I’m like none of them.
Life for me isn’t shaped for fitting in,
it’s about standing outside the heap.
In my clan a black sheep I’ve been,
making the deviant otherness unique.
It was yet another day
Tossing my bag in the car and driving away
Dodging through the busy streets
Amidst the tyre screeches.
We thought Corona was at bay,
But still the virus crept its way,
Leaving us short of breath
Torturing some to death.
We were all let down
When came the lockdown.
Panic, fear and desperation
Exacerbated by the sequestration.
Hearts filled with dread,
Not knowing what lay ahead.
Health worker went to heal
Mask on,with the same zeal.
Busy streets now deserted
All forms of traffics now busted.
At junctions, instead of horns blaring
Cheerful chirps of bird are airing
Humans are healing from their bruised ego
Shut in their houses with nowhere to go.
The atmosphere is eerily calm
As if Nature is applying its own balm.
Viral rabidity
dark depression closes in
egocentric
and economic
claustrophobic feelings
against overpopulated sick inhumanity,
competing ravenous clans
overwhelming individual rights
opportunities
health
autonomously-held capital wealth.
And then violently
politically explodes
internally devouring,
pregnancy rates collapsing,
eating
and extracting
and divesting,
abusing and neglecting
our young
and old,
disabled
and vulnerably weak.
Global climate health crises
close in ego-sequestration
rumination
recusing ourselves from communication,
away from cooperative investment,
sharing touch and breath,
remembering what makes our hearts race
and slowly grow too quiet
And then non-violently explode
restoring peace of ease,
setting aside retributive justice against disease
as a secondary effect
of ecological healthy relationships
predicting unprecedented theological wealthy compassion
for Earth's global interdependent analogical climates
optimizing resilient organic wealth
of Earth's most resonant health.
The Beauty of Solitude
The state of the situation of being alone;
Happy am I, there is no need to share;
I am of freedom and solitude so grown;
Lo, I am withdrawn, isolated in peace it's so clear;
Sequestration, privacy I'm in seclusion;
I savored the loneliness of my private solitude;
For they'll be grace and peace in my loneliness;
This is the beauty of solitude;
5/2/18
2018©
The Beauty of Solitude - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier |
MY DEAR WORLD!
Now fabrication is at capacity
Juxtaposition of the old and new
And sequestration of the new from old
The world has grown old with newness of life
And men abandon age to be born again
With the paraphernalia of a modern world
And the truth of a corporeal God
As though God has never been and
As though His nature adapts with time.
The abode of God men abuse and abscond
To seek Him elsewhere with the fullness of heart
There they abhor and speak vile of His Home.
Yet in the abode of God are many ignorant
Who care not and whose lives are averse
To deter others from knowledge of Him.
Thus shall Satan become the Son of Righteousness
To prove that there is no God where He is!
The dew has been banished from the grass
And the pups taken from the teet.
A drunk is lacking hard drink.
Like a television without a picture tube
Longing stares itself in the mirror, feeling, but
Denying its very existence while arrogance
Wants to scream from within.
This is a poem to those who think thinkfull;
whose thinkwrite, thinkthink, thinkprose, thinkcopy, thinkulate, thinkcujol
as a full member's fool.
My, me, mine contests are the bestest, contestest, behestest gorestest
since I'm a poet that's hosting, and ur the poet degenerate that's posting.
This makes me in copulocommand and u in dildodemand. Hitherto inconsequential.
My criteria is susperia, whattheheria and scary as hell, because I know not
what I'm doing and which wreaks, of, Oh well!
It's funny to seewrite yr crap as something u think poetcool,
but in poetreality on my site, it is only poetgruel,
as u lack the real innate streaming talent (dollars/cents to be true)
to tintilate, as yr soul it waits for retooling.
Don't fret for u can be me, and all that's wordly fruitful and free.
just pay the right price for lifetime linear refooling!
For it's then our poetic equation becomes wordglue
equazic for it's momentary monetary meger word sequestration.
(This is an evolving story. I keep adding verses until I'm done.)
When I was
eighty-two,
I went to live alone
knowing the money would
forever be coming.
Going away felt appropriate
for a man my age.
The closest analog
to the womb
and to death.
To be alive,
clothed in the
warmth of certainty
amid my own unchallenged opinions
during the age of ending,
out of the business
of a bright, moving planet
my own part in the world
outdated and roots
severed.
I found a place
in the middle of the trees
with a thin asphalt egress
that made it easy
to cycle to the village.
I was surrounded by
the aliens of the earth
with their secret languages
and concentrated lives.
I truly lived among strangers,
not those wanting to know me
or able to know me.
It was like the world
before I opened my eyes.
It was here and far away.
Delivered here in a storm
under which the taxi
and me
and the driver
were as tiny as sugar molecules.
The driver introduced himself as Charles.
He is a black man from Aruba,
Charles an English royal name.
I ran to the door
holding a newspaper on my head
as Charles soaked himself
carrying my black bags.
THIS TOWER HAS POWER
I dwell in a place called “the tower of prayer”
within there is only one bed and one empty chair
there is no door and if you want out they won't accept any pay
the only way out of this tower is to thank Our Father every day
the tower teaches me that a man can be alone and still feel free
but that doesn't hold true for a weak man like me
they say this tower is the one and only
and it also teaches me that a man can be alone and will feel excruciatingly lonely
within this spire there are no tower mates
and each of us pay varied and sundry rates
those who pray for themselves pay more
and if you pray for others you may finally find the door
if you should one day discover yourself a resident at “the tower of prayer”
keep in mind there have already been a million souls there
almost a million people have suffered until the sequestration is done
and the amount of people who prayed His way out is only one
© copy write 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
THIS TOWER HAS POWER
I dwell in a place called “the tower of prayer”
within there is only one bed and one empty chair
there is no door and if you want out they won't accept any pay
the only way out of this tower is to thank Our Father every day
the tower teaches me that a man can be alone and still feel free
but that doesn't hold true for a weak man like me
they say this tower is the one and only
and it also teaches me that a man can be alone and will feel excruciatingly lonely
within this spire there are no tower mates
and each of us pay varied and sundry rates
those who pray for themselves pay more
and if you pray for others you may finally find the door
if you should one day discover yourself a resident at “the tower of prayer”
keep in mind there have already been a million souls there
almost a million people have suffered until the sequestration is done
and the amount of people who prayed His way out is only one
© copy write 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
I GOT THAT SCAR IN A BAR
I’ve learned how to laugh and learned how to live
I’ve learned how to take but I needn’t learn how to give
My world is a microcosm of misery and madness
Yes, I’ve learned the hard way about sequestration and sadness
I’ve learned how to hide a frown with a smile
I’ve learned how to rest after walking one more mile
I’ve learned how to catch butterflies and fireflies in a jar
And I’ve learned how to get drinks on the house at a bar
Just treat the barkeep with respect and reverence
Tips can only get one so far but more important is relevance
Talk to the bartender about things they find important and can understand
And if they complain about where they are say you live in the same land
I’ve learned how to laugh, how to take advantage of the poor
And to always sit in a bar with my eye on the front door
Because there are too many enemies yearning to see my neck in a rope
But the most pertinent lesson I garnered about peace is to keep shooting dope
© 2011.…Phreepoetree free cee!
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