it used to be chaotic havoc in his mind
until he cleared out carnage and debris
with it went wreckage and resentments
from fear and insecurity rose serenity
neither thoughts emotions nor judgement
not unpleasantly a moment full of emptiness
So much effort
goes into feeling well...Man,
I’m exhausted! There’s nausea
from supplements, the squeak
and throb, Just One More Rep!~ exercising…
Man, I’m exhausted!
As much effort
going into relaxation – rush to get
things done (always a backup of
things); shuffle schedules, get sitters
for the animals – Man, I’m exhausted!
Even love, the chores, the cards,
the gifts, the emotional lifts...honey-does
seeming to have endless reserves,
never running short on pantries of
exhaustion.
Someday, probably, I’ll
wake-up, unpleasantly surprised
and find myself either stoking furnaces,
fluffing angel wings while polishing
the backside of clouds – Man, give me
a break!
Ouch!~ finally something I asked for….
Each finger performs forthwith
the assigned functions freely,
aware that interference imposed
and the suffocating attire slipped in,
can be unpleasantly chaotic,
disturbing the digital harmony,
for the fingers feel stifled.
The garb of glove desensitizes
their discerning dexterity,
the hand dislikes.
The cathartic outfit of ease,
the mitten encases the fingers,
strengthening the fiber of comaradarie
that fosters the spirit of togetherness,
except for the odd one,
solely signaling thumbs up,
the hand appreciates.
_________________
January 18, 2023
Contest : Of What Use Are Gloves To Fingers
That Only Understand Mittens
Sponsofred by : John Lawless
If the earth and sun
If the earth is one,
oh ! my God why you divide men,
in the name of religion include one's,
recurrent plan
among the human, like a shadow fleet,
to contradict one.
To, smell strongly and unpleasantly,
thee has its ancient floor,
to make an appeal provide a new,
filling not to be misled to classify
the human beings as it is a shame.
Always so... cordial
Unfailingly... polite
Cold-as-ice... phony smiles
plastered to our faces
Tedious, boring... but not unpleasantly so
nodding, agreeing... with nothing in particular
Infernos of hatred raging within us
probing, never piercing, civility's placid surface
Sirens call to follow
Awaken midnight
Walls of sound burst at the seams
Scream loud on the traffic scene
Clogged arteries of streets open wide
An ambulance passes by
Drivers hide in alleys in vehicles
Stuck with others unpleasantly
Carried in the back are people
Airwaves broadcast emergency!
At a crosswalk struck by a car
The dearly departed part
No matter what the signal says
Reds, yellowed by the sight of trouble
Turn green at every intersection blinked
Torn apart, alarmed by men in white
A spirit lifts from a body lightly
Drifts into a box enhanced by silence
Souls have nowhere to go but home
Trains clatter on distant tracks in fog
Through mountain tunnels with lust
Intermittent whistles signal than fade
Through smoke stacks to penetrate
Waiting for Freud to say something
Sometimes a tunnel is just a tunnel
A light at the end of which spells trouble
The poem and poet merge on the page
And the cruel pandemic has its presence
Its nature strikes me with dark words of rage
Death teases humankind unpleasantly
Time's essence is so hard to understand
Mighty nature sweeps down on all nations
Disinfect your minds; sanitize your hands
Dare I make a bleak interpretation?
Masks adorn as they do at carnival
Protecting cute noses and speaking mouths
While the earth appears quite rechargeable
And the pandemic makes its way around
One day, the pandemic will go away
Who knows what nature wishes to convey?
Many people are not afraid to go
Back to work because they need to support
Hungry families with cute kids aglow
However, the pandemic risks to thwart
Dreams of those who invested their savings
Hoping to cash in on all of their work
For now people must resist their cravings
As savings disappear and the beast lurks
The weather, sunny as ever today
The countryside was a bright pleasure
Yet, the pandemic continued to play
Groups of nice youths could not get together
Cruel nature seemed different than before
As though it had a point to underscore
I stood on the cobbled street
at midnight - gentle wafts of the Cassis vineyards
dancing on air, mixing, not unpleasantly,
with the bite of late December,
(reminding me fondly of my days writing in Paris,
and the trips my love and I made
to the countryside on long weekends,
for picnics and rest).
The sweet lull of a small choir
floated tenderly from the chapel nearby -
'O little town of Bethlehem' ...
coaxing even more poignant thoughts of childhood,
Christmases in the little church by the lake,
when all that mattered was
held inside my family's home at night,
warm and cared for and safe.
I looked up at the sharp glints
of winter suns, thinking how each
was a true-but-intangible thread of light
that tied me inexorably to all I needed and loved -
to all that I cared or worried about in the world now,
no matter where she had been taken away to ...
No matter where I now had to follow
to win her back.
Wake up, time unknown. Let dogs out to their toilet.
My toilet. Light, so morning. Possibly.
Check time. Unpleasantly late, but earlier than yesterday.
No energy. Wouldn't think that slept so long. But it was trapped in a seemingly eternal nightmare. Damn the scars my Father left on my mind.
Check the checklist. Start the day proper.
Take the time, feed dogs, fill water for dogs. Do some of days tasks.
Damn I just want to lie down and die.
Keep going, use music. Play strong, loud music. Keep going.
Always keep going. Living is hard, dying is easy. A beautiful siren song calling all the time.
Make dinner. Wash up. Try to keep mind from descending in on itself. Whatever it takes.
Take pill. So small. One of the crutches keeping me from falling into the Abyss. So small. But mind is even more Hell without it.
Time. Time passes again. Such a wonderful thing, time. Even in dreams and nightmares, time and clocks are beautiful.
More music. Bed.
Hope it's Oblivion or a dream. Hope my Father keeps away for tonight, in his dark Pit at the back of my mind...
Wake up. Time unknown...
So confusing to feel my always present anxiety
Amplified with a constant depression in me
I try to escape with outlets far from reality
Unfortunate with success and side effects unpleasantly
Awakening my anxiety so becomes more
Too much so I try to my best for
My kids, myself, I fail doing things to restore
Back to the normal of what I was before
Things got too complicated by choices gone bad
Bottling up and ignoring the stuff that turns me sad
Lose to these feelings that take all I have
With fear of not changing and ending up like my Dad
L O U D
that’s M E
loneliness flickers on the tv screen
I may be L O U D
but I sniffle mostly on my own sleeve
M A N N E R S taught me
to wait for what crumbs fall
so I treat myself to
I S O L A T I O N
until I see R E D
then I explode
most unpleasantly
my sleeve shakes all over the place
and loudly I B A W L
unhappily
1/3/2019
MY LOUDEST FEELINGS/Sponsor - Caren Krutsinger
3:54, 3:55
The glowing clock is mocking.
Its digital display deceives –
No ticking and no tocking.
Yet seconds march along while thoughts
Unpleasantly come flocking,
My tired mind incapable
Of a triumphant blocking.
Insomnia, from what I’ve heard,
Is really not too shocking,
But how I dread those nights when it
Maliciously comes knocking.
https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/the-strength-of-samson
The children of Israel, standing tall
Jericho and conquests beyond the fall
Possessing Canaan, equipped to defend
Tribes of twelve, of which they descend
From Joshua’s death to the Promised Land
False gods worshipped at every command
Returning to evil ways unpleasantly
God promised judges to bring victory
Israelites oppressed, Philistines of power
The appearing of an angel in a timely hour
The bearing of a son, promised to occur
Delivery from Philistines, was told to her
A chance of hope, not rendered forlorn
Unto mother and father Samson was born
A roaring lion of enemy plans
Samson seized the strength of his hands
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
How To Freak Out the Neighbors
By Elton Camp
In the news is a constant fuss
Government’s checking on us
We’ve been unpleasantly surprised
Our phones and e-mail scrutinized
Terrorists we don’t mind if they trace
A different view if at our home place
It would most surely astound us
If done to the neighbors around us
So here’s a fun trick that we can play
Our WiFi signal’s seen houses away
Panic may ensure if only you can
Name it “FBI Surveillance van”
Heat Wave Hits the North
By Elton Camp
Heat makes the Yankees scream and shout
But they don’t know what weather’s about
For those people, who in the South reside
It can be unpleasantly hot and humid outside
But that’s the reason air conditioning is made
It’s not enough to sip mint julep in the shade
But in winter when Yankees slip and slide
Our weather is often still pleasant outside
So a northern heat wave makes me sneer
Just wait—they have even worse to fear
Living in the North is a terrible plight
On balance, our weather is a delight
So, before a fan you Yankees must sit
Wait to see how hot it’s gonna get
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