What if I'd never been born, never scorned,
What if there were a blank stage, unadorned,
What if I were a rose without a thorn,
An unbruised, free soul, untouched, untorn,
No joys or pains to tangle in my head,
An utter silence where no voice was led.
What if no dawn or dusk I had known,
No roots, no ground, no seeds were sown,
Just endless calm, no fear or fight,
A deep sleep, a boundless night,
Where knowledge rests, freely, and unplanned
Neither blessed, nor cursed and damned.
Categories:
untorn, age, allusion, america, angst,
Form: ABC
In robes of black, the gavel strikes,
Supreme Court stands, its power unlike.
A battlefield where ideas clash,
Rewriting rules with every word, dot and dash.
Justices wield their pens with might,
Shaping the landscape, day and night.
Their words like arrows, piercing through,
Transforming politics corrupt anew.
With each decision, lines are drawn,
An ever-shifting political lawn.
Redrawing boundaries, left and right,
In search of justice, to dim to sight.
Opinions differ, fierce debates,
As Court's quill alters enumerable fates.
Balancing scales with careful might,
In quest for truth, in judicial light.
But as they scribe, they must be aware,
Of the consequences they then share.
For the political tapestry, once untorn,
Bears the marks of those who've sworn.
To navigate this realm with grace,
The Court must tread a more tempered pace.
For in their hands, the future lies,
A nation's destiny, the just the wise.
Categories:
untorn, 12th grade,
Form: Free verse
They dance on the edge
Of nearly unperceived breezes
Into a swath of glowing light
They slowly open, as it teases!
Each petal like little poems
So soft and ever so gentle
Untorn in the warm amber glow
Healing our sore souls indoor!
Dewdrops moistening those petals
Making me totally sentimental
In silence you protect the core
The bee tied to this moment, I adore!
Holding on to you to feel stable
For the nectar you offer at your round table
And when each petal withers and dies
You blow with the breeze to fly
As you wave and say your last goodbye!
12.5.23
Categories:
untorn, flower, perspective,
Form: Free verse
I
Humans took Ancient Stories of constellations to science
And laughed - all the way to the modern laboratory
Just as Copernicus and Galileo would - at Ptolemaic Flat Earthists
God laughing when our inventions "saw" twin quasars in 1979!
II
Better and bigger telescopes all the way to Hawai'i ignored God
God is NOTHING at best; SATAN rules, or just PROTOPLASM
Until we see Earth is not central; lost in the cosmos
300,000 million planets in our Milky Way alone may have life!
III
The best telescopes and inventions got lost with Dark Matter
All that we see - however totaled - is 5 percent of the Cosmos
No scientist can see or dissect DARK Matter & Dark Energy
Yet, these are keeping the Coma Cluster of galaxies "untorn" -
And Einstein knew, too, GRAVITY can help us see (quasars, trajectory)
IV
Hail, Vera Rubin for finding the speed of stars in Spiral Galaxies
Hail, Fritz Zwicky, the one who gave us "neutron stars" and "Supernova"
And Einstein for Gravitational lensing, the key to moving Science on
Also said, "Science without religion is blind; Religion without science is lame."
God hides as Gravitational Lens and Glue in the cosmos; Know Him? No Him?
Categories:
untorn, jesus, universe,
Form: Didactic
In my coffin I will have no phone
At last I shall be free like new born babe
But how will people hear my mobile groans?
Who shall write my story on a stone?
I can’t ring Emergency for aid
In my coffin I will have no phone
I must have a linen sheet untorn
Be reminded I’ve already paid
How will people hear my mobile groans?
Out we go, as in we, came alone
Will someone sing for me , oh humming bird
In my coffin I will need no phone
We will die as we have lived, atoned
I hope a human person hears my words
Help us all,dear God, to forestall groans
Free from medications .free of nerves
Straight to Heaven atop our loved ones prayers
In my coffin I shan’t be alone
I want to go with all my garden gnomes
Categories:
untorn, analogy, feelings, humor, identity,
Form: Villanelle
In my coffin I will have no phone
At last I shall be free like new born babe
But how will people hear my mobile groans?
Who shall write my story on a stone?
I can’t ring Emergency for aid
In my coffin I will have no phone
I must have a linen sheet untorn
Be reminded I’ve already paid
How will people hear my mobile groans?
Out we go, as in we, came alone
Will someone sing for me , oh humming bird
In my coffin I will need no phone
We will die as we have lived, atoned
I hope a human person hears my words
Help us all,dear God, to forestall groans
Free from medications .free of nerves
Straight to Heaven atop our loved ones prayers
In my coffin I shan’t be alone
I want to go with all my gnomes
I want to go with all my garde
Categories:
untorn, 9th grade, humor,
Form: Villanelle
In my coffin I will have no phone
At last I shall be free like new born babe
But how will people hear my mobile groans?
Who shall write my story on a stone?
I can’t ring Emergency for aid
In my coffin I will have no phone
I must have a linen sheet untorn
Be reminded I’ve already paid
How will people hear my mobile groans?
Out we go, as in we, came alone
Will someone sing for me , oh humming bird
In my coffin I will need no phone
We will die as we have lived, atoned
I hope a human person hears my words
Help us all,dear God, to forestall groans
Free from medications .free of nerves
Straight to Heaven atop our loved ones prayers
In my coffin I shan’t be alone
I want to go with all my garden gnomes
Categories:
untorn, death,
Form: Villanelle
The fields that once held buttercups are gone
Giant furrows pattern that long land
Made by huge machines whose time has come
Precise as old account books , now forlorn,
As moving as are waves on desert sand
The fields that once held buttercups have gone
Nothing human-sized remains untorn
Nowhere for dear lovers hand in hand
Killed by huge machines whose time has come
But young folk do not court, they hurry on
Annihilating what we elders understand
The fields that once held buttercups have gone
All too rapidly our world’s undone
To the deserts of the heart we’re sent
Dragged by by huge machines whose time has come
Can no passion change the way nor lend
Creative means to pacify and mend?
The fields that once wore buttercups have gone
Ground by huge machines,death times have come
Categories:
untorn, absence, allusion, my children,
Form: Villanelle