Poem 3
Illusion of Practical Thinking
Some fake intellectuals are mocking books by saying that books won't help practical life,
But on the other hand they're decreasing their brain's capacity by social media,
Practical Thinking is not bad but it's an illusion that social media and video games create practical Thinking,
On the reverse they blunt the sharpness of brain,
And make our lives worst,
Those who don't believe can compare their brain's efficiency after reading books and after scrolling social media themselves.
Poem 3
Illusion of Practical Thinking
Some fake intellectuals are mocking books by saying that books won't help practical life,
But on the other hand they're decreasing their brain's capacity by social media,
Practical Thinking is not bad but it's an illusion that social media and video games create practical Thinking,
On the reverse they blunt the sharpness of brain,
And make our lives worst,
Those who don't believe can compare their brain's efficiency after reading books and after scrolling social media themselves.
As if seeping through the paper. Words;
Just seem to disappear.
Yet absent are the memories,
From only minutes, so near..
Thinking that you thought,
as you think about the memory;
A trip to the store or
something you bought.
Quickly forgotten as you stumble mid- sentence;
A place you now reside, comes to light
In bright eyes.
A place soon forgotten, to you and you alone;
While those around you deal with each forgotten
Like another painful death has falling upon.
Yet each one now marked
Unknown....
As memories fade like the scent of cologne;
Thinking that you thought
as you think about the memories
All alone...
Faith demands we hope for
What cannot be true;
Hope insists we believe
In what will never be.
They are trickster twins
Commanding our allegiance,
Wishing us disappointment, despair and oblivion.
I prefer to trust my wits, sight and a little love.
Women will say it's men
Men will say it's women
They all throwing
Shades at each other
Defending their gender
Tendering different agenda.
Women will leave their man
Because he cheated
Then go to another man
Who's cheating on his woman
What a irony... Circle keeps repeating
Men will be telling several girls
Same thing but different feelings
Feelings depend on her vibes
Time passes, little misunderstanding
They break up, then go to another woman
Who's probably not satisfied in her present relationship.
I know they're some women and men
Who don't cheat, they're fidelity
Men and women
Keep accusing each other
Thinking they will never unite
But every weekend;
Friday, Saturday and Sunday
There's always a wedding ceremony to attend.
Men and women, who cheats most!?...
Thinking is a thing of the past
they see no profit in that
looking on is easier for them
and they'll follow the herd at the drop of a hat
committees are but cash cows for the incompetent
with nothing accomplished at the end of the day
by back-slapping glad-handing
or under the table their cards they play
talking is of days gone by
they view no profit there
watching is the thing to do
and they'll gaze on anywhere
I thought they didn't have the courage
of their convictions big or small
but I was wrong as now I've found
they have none at all
meanwhile
we're out here in the human jungle
bumbling about stumbling around
going in circles jumping up falling down
and life is good or so I'm told
but I don't buy what I'm sold
We question what love is for
We question why we need more
We question all our wants with tears
We question why we think were here
We question if it's going to pass
We question if its to vast
We question has it gone far
We question how much we lower the bar
We might question everything we've done
But the answer to it, we will never succumb
across the festival of grasses
I ran through the view of various booth and attraction
run by locals and those aged faction
along those sneaky foreigners with imprinted aliases
rolling my bike seemed to bother
with their necks closing in
leaning towards my upward chin
read as arrogance, instead as an evader
invader of their land
shattering their drinking glass
yet still manage to outclass humans
by using what's left of their decaying hand
it's pretty in my mind
thinking—I'll just pay a visit
not knowing my limit
until I arrived.
rewiring of
rainbows across memories
~ child's play
Submitted on July 24, 2025 for contest ILLUSKU : ILLUSTRATED HAIKU CHALLENGE sponsored by JCB BRUL (using my own painting) - Honorable Mention
hovering in limbo
ideas strewn about
lacking sense or reason
images suspended in mid air
notions and impressions
floating and colliding
vague feelings in the raw
idly drifting meet their match
simmering a stance
before long ...
thoughts are forming notions
interpreting and framing
and a plan's laid out for action
AP: 3rd place 2025
I don't wanna be
a wannabe no more
waiting for opportunity
to come a'knocking
on my open door
and the day she does
tho' the lights are on
there's no one home
as I'll probably be
out to lunch
knowing me
so I wanna see
'Been there, done that!'
on my resumé because
I'm oh-so tired
of being a never-was
To ponder or not to ponder - that is the question.
Is it a waste of my precious seconds, minutes, hours
To dwell on the questions that plague my mind?
I spend my waking and waning hours mulling and considering,
Crashing waves of question marks and possibilities
Dance around in my mind's eye, quelling the beast of sleep.
A skeptical girl's dream is a paranoid's nightmare.
The mind wanders the winding path, ways blockaded by the
immaturity of age's eye. Paths extend,
arms outstretched, sclera comes into view. I enter the land
of darkness and trivial trifles, numbers rapidly rising.
To observe then look away - oh what a gift.
The fluttering, juvenile gaze upon life offers a plethora of privileges.
A jovial demeanor, an emaciated ego, a blithe smile -
charities that are given to the majority.
The plights that plague me are mere afterthoughts
in the meandering mind of the thoughtless. Idealizing,
reading, puzzling reserve themselves for the
fragmented, slightly distorted. And now I must
ponder, what the slightly distorted
save themselves from.
A penny for my thoughts once made my day
Now a dollar doesn’t go a long way
go to bed •think bemusingly of you
loop (cond) { tomorrow }
I rise in the morning,
jog an 8K •thinking of you, wash up
drink some flavored, black coffee
watch the morning sun balloon
eat toast while reading a set amount
write my unique and uninteresting analysis
work on half a dozen, odd assignments
walk .8 miles to campus •thinking of you
team up, with some older, uninteresting guys
interview a focus group, present dataset interpretations
walk .8 miles back to my flat •thinking of you
eat while reading a set amount
go to bed •think bemusingly of you
loop (cond) { tomorrow }
I rise in the morning…
.
.
Songs for this:
Falling Down a Wellby Jack J
Overtime (pt 1) by Mk.gee [E]
E-ven
M-y
Z-ealous
M-ind
E-mbraces
D-reams,
E-very
N-ew
I-dea
L-eaps
L-ightly
A-head
©bfa060525
Monocrostic (Birthday of Emz Medenilla)
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