My beloved Cats and Kittens
My Loving cats and kittens
Show me the higest form of love-Unconditional Love
Love without bounds or boundaries.
Unquestioning and unwavering Love.
feet tracing ruts
softened by the weight of others
the path was worn
polished
not by insight
but by generations
unquestioning the same direction
a weed split the sidewalk
where my foot hesitated
they handed us maps
already marked, folded
creased at the routes
they wanted us to traverse
walls hung with heirlooms
no one claimed
shadows
longer than the rooms
classrooms’ chalkboards of certainty
offices pressed flat with protocol
we learned the art
of veiling the eye behind the eye
we drank from vessels
lips like waiting mouths
etched with forgotten crests
believing the shape of the cup
taught us thirst
air rehearsed its return
like a tethered animal pacing
the same invisible circle
inscribed with grace
shaped like a cage
narrowing the limit
of knowledge
of wisdom
altars made from repetition
shaped our days
to fit the mold
filed down the splinters of doubt
until only smooth compliance remained
tell me—
what is awakening
if not the moment
your hand reaches
for a handle
no one told you was there
and the quiet moment after waking
my heart
uncertain
unshod
hesitates…
unquestioning faith
propaganda sweet like candy
follow me says the lie
Cemeteries buried with good intentions
And the Drumming Gets Louder
Knowledge is taught wisdom is not
The sweet taste of candy turns sour
When God is played like a juke box
But He can't be bought many have tried
And the Drumming Gets Louder
I wonder why for power
For the history books and a statue
I sigh and then I cry
so I can laugh at the lie
and I wonder why so many
follow me says the lie
Yet the drumming gets louder and louder
When God is played like a juke box
but He can’t be bought many have tried
Frank Black Blacharczyk
Quiet quibbles with silence and hushed wind’s quackery.
Have nonsensical need for an ice cold daiquiri.
Chicanery of leafy season, coursing slowly,
before its blustery countermand uplifts wholly.
Monotonous quarrel needs a quaff of arctic air,
an unquestioning brisk of maple burning its flare,
Like brandy, in quiescent afterglow’s flirtation,
ho hum’s quadrant equips me for intoxication.
I’ll not be a crone, with quaking bones, beneath a pad
of sunset quilt. I’ll be cold. I’ll brave it. I’ll go mad
with cacophonous joy, kick the crispy depth of leaves.
Removal of sequacious grin. Broad smile Fall retrieves.
Birthdays were always shared.
Two cakes sat mid-table,
‘Happy Birthday’ was sung
with two names instead of one.
I did not like being a twin,
having a sister the same age,
always being labeled more
as a composite, having
a shared identity, a part
instead of being a whole.
I felt as if I was diluted.
I did not like the fuss,
being different than the other
boys who blended seamlessly
together at school when I
was singled out. My sister
was the devout one,
unquestioning whilst I
was the opposite, the dark
shadow in contrast to her light.
My world was an unlit room.
It was so for most of our lives,
obedience versus rebellion,
extrovert versus introvert,
traditionalist versus radical,
she a lover of boundaries
whereas I busted far too many.
My sister has been dead now
for a decade. I miss her,
my dear twin,
the counterbalance to me.
A blunt fumbling of zippers and hooks,
traffic outside the apartment
stops being a distant sound,
becomes a pulse shared between two.
Discarded garments tumble over themselves
forever rejected, a kind of liberation,
yet we want only to be bound,
to be held hostage to this delirium.
A bed surfaces, breaking our fall.
Jostle, lever, flex,
blind movements in a broken clock.
Now the need, now the struggle,
now the mad claws
of an unquestioning passion,
while an enveloping breath
devours us both,
one gasp at a time.
In a world gone mad
where rape and murder
in the name of love and peace
get the unquestioning support
of the freedom loving press
and college campus crowd
social justice jihad
attains the level
of a church indulgence
get out of jail free card
for the willful ignorance
of good intentions
we all know
only lead to hell
(10/18/23)
The male of the black widow spider species
offers its head to be eaten
by the lager female arachnid.
Is this sex, love, or blind instinct?
We need a different mind-set
a new understanding.
Some say Nature is perfect,
some consider it flawed, brutal,
red in paw and claw.
Only a bad dream could be this horrific,
only a good dream is aware that it is dreaming.
The exactness of the spider web
could only be the work of an impeccable design,
an image of a reality proffered up
not to confound, but to awaken,
the male and female spider seem to know this,
all be it instinctual, yet naturally beneficial
to these unquestioning creatures.
We should all pay attention,
for a dream within a dream is still a dream.
In a world where a deep ‘voice’ over’
trailers future disasters
the top brass of a uni-party
(together with its
current four-star chorus),
gather to pump up the fear machines.
The machines are shiny,
and titanium clad.
Budget cuts
have left them empty of any
discernable function
except the line of the day.
The ‘line of the day’, today
is the same as yesterday
it is:
‘Obey and eat your soup.’
A Mickey Mouse blimp
sails over the embattled roof
of the Whitehouse
waving behind it
its glorious unquestioning symbol
of freedom.
Freedom costs less nowadays
for no one goes to the theater.
At home they make-up
their own horror movies;
future shocks confirming
hosts of endlessly bad scenarios.
The silent and compliant
pace back and forth
in their virtual lock-ups
where every cranny and nook
has its own tiny camera
that records every tick
or shudder of dissent.
It sticks to grey matter
where a porous unmindfulness
sponges whatever absorbs.
It fills city bars, taxies, and continents
infecting all with an
unquestioning acceptance,
settled opinions’
one collective belief.
Restroom walls
reveal common urges.
Once while snorkeling
in the Mediterranean,
I surfaced only to find the waves
full of jellyfish.
They did not sting
but I felt translucent tentacles
downloading their wet thoughts
into my persona.
After their probing’s,
I heard the sunlight talking
directly to my skin,
It said:
don't trust the minds of jellyfish.
The tortuous path up the arduous mountain
of the tormented life you’ve acquired,
needs to be scaled at the beckon of destiny
as the solemn summit awaits you,
you follow the crumbling trail of agony
through the surging storm of strife.
Try to cross with unstinted devotion
the designed gateway God installs for you,
place your steadfast trust on His benevolence
and on His prescribed gift of liberation,
faith will show you the righteous path
in the dark night of sordid squalls.
The raging ocean of turbulent life
heaves untamed waves in grueling tempest,
needs to be sailed unquestioning at His call
and the final ecstatic anchorage found,
so, get guided by His omnipresent beacon
with unwavering dedication.
The dark alley of mortal suffering,
filled with the mist of profound despair,
needs to be lighted with candle of hope,
you’ll retrieve the anguished soul from abyss,
illumined by God’s generous grace,
get suffused with the radiance of divine bliss.
__________________
February 24, 2022
For Inspirational Christian Poetry Contest
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
I've heard rumors of unicorns
Seen only by the faithful sworn
Rising in glories you foretold
From valleys where oceans are born
You spoke of passages in gold
To take, if my vision was bold
Enough to follow where you led
Unquestioning, into the cold
I fell for promises unsaid
Surrendered to you every shred
Of light and beauty I once had
And to your dark delusions wed
We left as sun-blinded nomads
Criss crossing straight lines into plaid
As I remembered what I knew
Truth re-emerged, brightly unclad
I could pretend that red is blue
I could declare my heart stayed true
I could deny the voice of doubt
But I can't lie as well as you
10/09/21
An alabaster sundog dangles
In the blue vault of heaven.
Great expectations lie at my feet.
The horizon holds much promise.
It feels like God's divine benediction
To meet a brand new dawn
In this birth month of mine.
At long last, October dawn comes
Stealing up again
In all it's captivating splendor.
My spirits sing hallelujah;
Swirling around with unquestioning glee.
October Poetry Contest (N/A)
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Date written: 10/03/2021
Against wild dogma and feathery wit,
Shall your sound idioms and wisdom
Outshine fickle folios of mortal sages;
Proving verity in its irrepressible form.
Your arresting dictums shall outshine
Obtuse hallowed tomes devoid of life,
Which erudition’s minions kissing die;
Sepulchered beneath self-spun strife.
Each revivifying line a failsafe dose,
Curing the unquestioning pupil soul;
Which heeding its fathomless force,
Glowing dims deified sky-high stars.
Those fibs-shaming adages of yore
Shall diffuse war’s menacing nukes,
Neutering gory ciphers spelling awe;
Turning brawls into inviolable peace.
I have a little kitty cat.
I love her very much.
She has blue eyes and soft brown fur,
That's silky to the touch.
She cuddles close beside me,
As we lie in sweet repose,
And purring softly kneads my shoulder,
With her tiny little toes.
I haven't much to offer her,
She doesn't ask for much,
Save home and hearth, enough to eat,
A kindly hand and such.
And as we lay there dreaming,
I can't help but wonder at,
The large amount of love God sends,
In the heart of one small cat.
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