Upending Poems

Purim Theorem!

Purim Theorem!

Rambam holds Hashem is math,
Hashem does not take a path,
Like “Squaring the Circle”,
Such is illogical,
Yet the Zohar differs on Hashem’s craft!

Witness the Aron anomaly,
Giving rise to a homily,
Finite length & width yet zero volume,
Boggling the mind, yielding it solemn,
Evoking Emunah more than normally!

Size yet no volume?
Anomaly! as in Shalom,
Moshe saw that the “Burning Bush”,
Was unconsumed, he didn’t silence: Hush!,
Risking ridicule, courage to be alone!

Moshe saw water & fire combine,
Hashem’s Shalom nonintuitively align,
Illogic surprise from mire,
Despair be gone!  Lost? A Divine sign!

Purim, 339 Before Common Era,
Hashem again was a true “Chevra”,
Upending Haman’s goose,
In a long necked noose,
Saving the Yidden from an evil schema!

Arrogance vanquished,
Anomaly? Yes by logic languished,
Expect the unsuspected,
Human reason dissected,
Headstand of man anguished!

“Shemayim’s” Burning Bush is a hymn,
Let the “Olam” Hear Him,
Again no novelty,
“Chiddush” renewal, an end to “Evilty!”
All Adds Up to Purim Theorem!

Purim Headstand

Purim Headstand
Scaling K2’s peak,
Of sudden surprise,
Upending Fate,
Rashaim could not sneak,
Anymore, Nes apprise,
Mistaken 70 years being too late,
Goyim’s scheme did leak,
Gave to the rise,
Haman’s gallows up straight,
Head Over Heels unique,
“Hesther Panim” foiled the devise,
Sank the Hate,
Now October 7 will eake,
Out & End Hamas’s vise,
Israel will “8”,
Stop the illusion streak,
Puzzling Whys?
Did Hashem Jews create?
Not as odd as Sinwar’s mistake!

Note: 8 is Rise Above, also Coming of Moshiach?
Hesther Panim is the Hidden Face of Hashem
Rashaim are Bad Evil Guys
Goyim are NonJews

Low Key Radical Cyrch A Chwta My style

Waterfall chandeliers flood me 
as they sparkle delicately;
Watercolor waves shine brightly 
upending my debauchery;
Fanciful lets these tears fall free
they unleash all of my fury;
Graffiti of lights on the wall
facets enthrall but glow low key;

Rhyme and riddle to unravel,
the answer lies in the dazzle; 
The poise of so polished a yell,
moody flow rings just like a bell;
Top tier can be hard to handle,
I sure as hell am no damsel;
Blink you’ll miss the kaleidoscope,
branding my slope so radical.

From Every Patriots Grave

From the patriots grave there comes a disturbance
a sound so faint it is distant less. It floats in on the wings of absurdity.

It defies the continuity of human expiration, upending the status quo
and invading the promised tranquility of the patriot's rest.

The sound stirs forever sleeping neighbors, displeasing compatriots
who had, as fated, come to peace with nonexistence.

Old threats, assumed battlefield defeated, are revived in the incoherent
oratory of an amoral man's quest for unrepressed power.

The sound he summons is autocracy rising, growing louder, 
and not that far away. Pomposity begets confusion, discord follows.

Was this not the screamed rhetoric of long ago? Incendiary promises to
make their country great again. Instead, oratory that set it afire.

The fires, so long ago, dead heroes died to extinguish. New tyranny disturbs
forever slumber. Dead heroes, in graves, have no more to give.

We need new patriots to rise, to resist today's promised tyranny and quiet the hatred that hovers over America and the graves of heroes. All deserve peace.

Twilight Gleaming

Barry Dell
In the Twlight Gleaming
Is the end only a beginning? A dawn to dust transformation forever bending?
Always learning changing new thoughts evolving, devour blood thirty ideas
Stopping not arising. Humanity forward time rushes forth, slowing advancing
DNA shifting. Changing the path ever gleaming. Ideas go on as man ascending, 
Stuck in his tracks by pride not clearing. In the space of movement not caring
But ending, waves of compassion ever upending. Up from the ground, the dawns
Early light. Changes us slowly to heaven pure delight. Thank God for dust, we are
All made, we return to ashes before times break of day. Amen

Chaos Peace

Chaos
                   loud, wild 
     rattling, upending, sabotaging 
     Toxin, Despair, Remedy, Hope 
    encouraging, stabilizing, healing 
                  quiet, calm 
                      Peace.

Autumn's Arrival

Autumn's Arrival 



      Leaves radiate vivid colors beautifying elms mesmerizing dubious eyes

      Seized out of wooden closets woolen sweaters and scarfs would suffice

      Warm breezes bade goodbye to an impending avalanche of glacial chill

      Nights endure longer as stars paint panoramic scenes in silken vermeil


      Stoking tinder in campfires country bumpkins imbibe whiskey and rum

      Driver sporting Victorian gear embark on a horse and buggy tryout run

      City dwellers undermine tourists upending stores plowing for a bargain

      Autumn awaiting raindrops summon the skies to rain upon a mountain









01/17/2018
12:21 A.M.
West Palm Beach
Florida

Blm

Black liberation 


BLM is a good and timely thing that happened 
it freed black- America from the stigma of slavery
and freedom of the psychological burden
of being second class citizens.
But it was not meant to be a liberty to do as one pleased 
upending statues and robbing stores.
This brings us to the police that must have the right 
to to arrest trespassers, 
But I fail to see why the law have to kill people because
they refuse to be arrested.
Let us bring back how slavery came about, it was
not a gang of white men running around catching people,
they could not have done this without the connivance
of the leading chieftains who had no hesitation
selling their own for a hefty profit.
I think this is important for the black-Americans to take
this into consideration before all white people are
brushed out of the true history

The Inner Psychopath

Through the set screen of a cower cover
A tyrant terror of the self resides; 
Forming a merged mind with opposing sides. 
Persuasion being his asset to uncover
Your desires and wants he will discover; 
With deceiving decisions he provides,
His slyness and adroit nature coincides —
Whilst morality slowly starts to suffer.
Even though a bitter baleful self reigns,
His upending flaw finally I discern.
Acceptance of the hostile self, I learn
Of Mindfulness and the power it attains; 
Conscious of the present moment I earn,
Forging the coaction of the True Self in turn —

Morgan With Tulips

MORGAN WITH TULIPS

toothy and yellow.
Sun-petals next to
my grandson, who

at eleven chuckles
at the mere two pictures
under the title.

Seasonal surmise, of
one planting, upending soil -
captured with one grand sun
and a pearly white smile.

2/23/2020

Strange Cat Looking At Me

Strange Cat Watching Me


 A cat sits on the edge of a bed
Watching me watching him
Both of us thinking
What sort of strange creature this is
That has invaded our personal space
Upending our daily routines

The cat came up to me
Staring at me 
with his soulful eyes
Boring into my very soul
Looking for answers 
To these dark fundamental questions

The cat smiles a mysterious smile
And purrs in contentment 
Having found an answer of sorts
And indicates that we can be friends
As long as I know 
That he is the boss of me 

And I pet him
Acknowledging 
the time honored
Ritual of human cat interaction
That dates 
back to the dawn of time

When humans and cats 
First became aware
Of the other 
Strange creature 
that shared
our planet

A Brief History of Progress Over the Past 125 Years Or So

Technology ascending
  Traditional religion ending
Robots comprehending
  Life's secrets upending

Black holes extending
  Cyber wars impending
Electronic devices contending
  Wizard-like gurus pretending

Media noise unrelenting
   Massive armament-spending
Extremism transcending
   Holocausts never ending

How much better now, our enlightened Life --
   Man's Progress measured in Death, Polarization and Strife

Depending On Offending

Depending On Offending

On certain things had been depending,
And how repulsive it was and offending;
Surely outrageous;
Could be contagious;
Disrupted while upsetting and upending.

Jim Horn

Carl Koontz 1892-1915

Carl Koontz

1892-1915

Mister Gregg was standing atop my grounded skull,

And so was Mister White,

And the reticent county coroner.

And inexplicably,

They directed two men in blue overalls

To dig up my decomposed body that day.

I must say, the sounds of those slicing shovels,

Upending the dirt of my final destination,

Here in Mt. Olive Cemetery

Was most disheartening, to say the least.

But bigger and better digs

Were in store for me,

Up at Whittier Heights Cemetery.

“Easy fellas, easy,” I said silently,

“Easy now, as you lift me out!”

And “heave-ho” I heard the men say,

As they hoisted me up upon

The four-wheeled wagon,

With two sturdy horses up front

Looking back dubiously.

And together, with my one ton marble tombstone,

I and my lilly white sarcophagus 

Travelled to the Heights,

Whittier’s new and spacious boneyard,

Festooned with wild roses.

Though it is impossible to die permanently twice,

I have discovered in death,

That it is possible to be buried a brace of times!

“Heave-Ho” I heard the men say!

The Ploughman

Ploughing 

The farmer has ploughed the land around the almond trees
 the earth is rust red I took up a handful it was lumpy, full
 of dead plants and still warm from the sun.
A breeze was blowing shaking dust of trees and upending 
parasols in gardens of those who do not till this land, but 
want to be a part of the rustic idyll, tend rose bushes with
gloved hands to avoid callouses on hands used to type on
a word processor, where they try and fail to share the peace
they have found among small farmers travail. 

I have the camera with me, but use it not how does
one shoot a picture of the wind or branches of a tree 
moving rhythmically as the second dancer at a Bolshoi 
performance attended by the prime minister.
Think I will leave the wind to a painter friend of mine.

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