Tag Archive | blogging

Why Do People Ignore Me?

Unlike Eyes Repel

If I could be a fly on the wall in the minds
Of the people who know me, what would I find out?
I may know by osmosis or telepathy.
Compound eyes has the fly, but my own cannot see
Why most people ignore me. So riddled with doubt
That I turn to the occult and things of those kinds.

I do find the true answer by looking within
Where the soul has a dark space that I cannot hide
Nor can I hide within it because it’s so dark
That I’m blind even to my apparent birthmark
To be worn on the outside with much pride implied.
There are reasons why I get under my own skin.

A complex of bad habits, like talking too much
About only myself and not letting folks speak
Drive a wedge between me and all others I meet.
People do like to talk but not due to conceit.
It’s that sense of communion that most people seek.
Personality often is used as a crutch.

I don’t want to be ‘negative’ yet it’s my way
Of dissecting the challenges life offers me.
I should keep to my own self my piss poor outlook.
All the jerks in the world I must let off the hook
Just because I may be one. Again, I can’t see
Past the surface illusions that we all portray.

I know that I am boring, but not by first hand
Information directly from people, but from
The collective unconscious we have access to.
I know too damned much about what I have to do
With the pearls I am given, and it would be dumb
To succumb to society’s perverse demand.

Urban Renewal

Evolution of Metal and Silicon

Ancient rubble metallic and dark under light
Of a motionless fake moon amid the night sky
Is obliged to be taken control of by man,
Since it’s all that it’s known since the big lie began –
Not the one most apparent too many deny
But the one built in Eden through programming sleight.

The first man to give birth was also the first man?
Take that pill with a grain of saltpeter and die!
Body parts like the trick rib can only exist
In the mind of a story tale maker. Dismissed
Is all sense that is common. It’s the reason why
Men can do what they want to. God says that they can.

First, throw out the old rule book. Then, start a new game
With a storyline truer to life and nature.
But will we ever get to that point on our own
When the twisting of truth into evil is known
To be strong and effective in tainting what’s pure?
What has been done to humanity is a shame.

Metal can be conductive if of the right kind.
All the rest is the substrate of common belief –
Each of us a discrete component built within
The electronic intelligence of our sin.
Lack of truth in the circuitry causes much grief.
It’s perhaps the sole reason folks become maligned.

About Sleep

Nocturnal Flight Of The Spirit

An addiction to sleeping…? Why not a disease,,,
To be unconscious one third the time I am here
Should be called my existence? It fits like a glove.
In my dreams, like a free bird, I zoom out above
Where I can’t when I’m wide awake in constant fear
As my life quickly wastes away and no one sees.

It’s at worst therapeutic. The cycle of sleep
Has a three quarter rhythm like some poetry.
It’s the nearest escape hatch without absolute
Departure from the physical. Rather acute
Is my life situation. Where I need to be
Is far off from where I am, so my soul does weep.

Meditation and sleeping are somewhat the same.
They both bring much relief from the troubles at hand.
As each is made available, there is my chance
To remember that I am not my circumstance.
Terminal, though it seems, may it help me expand
Far beyond a solution to mitigate shame.

I rely now on guidance. I’m on cruise control.
Things I do throughout my day I don’t think about.
Mindfully automatic with each daily task
With no judgment from me, I do most humbly ask
That I live through my hell with no measure of doubt
That redemption is possible for my damned soul.

Healthy sleep is wellbeing of body and mind.
I have more energy, and my mood can remain
At a workable level. If I were ok –
Like no one on this earth – I’d have nothing to say.
I exist to express things, and it keeps me sane
And conscious of the moments when I’ve been unkind.

Tooth And Nail

A Dastardly Duo

Couples come in varieties strange and bizarre.
Tooth And Nail are an odd one, evil and deadly.
Anyone who would fight them must have balls of lead…
Or perhaps there’s a cotter pin loose in the head
Of the foolish one hellbent embarrassingly
To take on such a duo, as daft as they are.

Now, Miss Tooth can be itchy, but with a big ‘B.’
This madame of mendacity speaks through her roots
That are deeply embedded in clandestine ways
Of creating catastrophe. She earns the praise
Of her flathead accomplice whose pistols he shoots
Like his masculine motormouth – aggressively.

Mr. Nail is a character man machine made.
His rock hard heart’s desire is to be driven home
Into some structured substance where he would then stay
With his sweet tooth nearby him, the old fashioned way.
To be caught in a fight with them is a syndrome
Of extreme consternation and hard karma paid.

Tooth And Nail – Do avoid them whatever the cost.
If by chance you engage them, know that you won’t win.
They’re the masters of trickery and pure nonsense.
If there isn’t a choice, then the proper offense
Is a blast from the back end served with a big grin.
With a strange sense of humor, one rarely is lost. 

Love One Another

Nurture The Union

Creatures breed because nature gives them expertise
In the ways of comingling of infinite form.
No one needs to remind them how sacred love is,
But some bone headed humans would fail at a quiz.
As the species who needs one amid an ice storm,
We would learn a good lesson from the birds and bees.

Yet, a world of advantage is at our avail.
As you love one another do not make a bond.
Let it move like the seas between shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup fully, as drinking consoles
With a taste in its curing. Like a magic wand,
Bless this world with your oneness and tell a love tale.

Drink though not from one cup, and don’t eat the same bread
But give one to another as sun gives daylight.
Sing and dance, and be joyous, but spend time alone.
Lute strings quiver together, yet each has its tone.
We dance to the same music. It seems only right
That symphonic its influence can be widespread.

Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping,
For the hand of God only can contain your hearts.
Stand together, yet not too near one another.
Temple pillars are spaced out, as one would prefer.
Neither oak tree nor cypress each shadow imparts
On the other, so that each may do their own thing.

Who’s Going To Do Something?

Stopping The Momentum Of Evil

All the world’s statisticians give truth that is raw.
So straightforward the science, its transparency
Can be taken for granted. Our whole lives could change
For the ultimate better. It is rather strange
That we don’t choose what’s best for our society.
The life spans of democracies are wrought with flaw.

I know that common sense is ignorable when
One nineteenth the defense budget is spent on peace.
Good health is not as profitable as is sickness,
And it means that some of us cannot have access
To what everyone should have. All crime would decrease
If more people felt worthy and human again.

Greater economic opportunities for
Women and educational ones for children,
The reduction of violence against women…
Are some places where our attention hasn’t been.
If the human condition cannot change, what then?
We don’t play by the numbers. We mess with the score.

Who’s Going To Do Something? It’s all up to us,
And that feels catastrophic right down to the bone.
But this truth is the answer to no question asked.
All democracy suffers, and so we are tasked
To address the condition become too well known…
But to those in authority, superfluous.

The Life Purpose Myth

Being IS Its Own Purpose

Childhood dreams of Becoming someone cool someday
Fueled by love and encouragement from everyone
Are the kind that, when clung to, become life fulfilled.
If I got to the point where I’m constantly thrilled,
Where each day is another one filled with much fun,
Would I not get so bored that I’d not want to play?

Or would I reach that happy place right in between
Gloom and mania where I can tolerate well
Challenges that life offers to me and all souls?
Is it too late to think about setting new goals
If the ones set in earnest are all shot to hell?
To those who are damned happy, I shouldn’t be mean.

I have cake yet uneaten, and as time draws near,
Getting up from the table is childish and rude
To the host of the household and all other guests.
I’ve no concern about what my other digests.
Each of us has the freedom to choose what is food.
All the pain comes from what we have eaten in fear.

I have been a small player in such a big game…
A bit role played to script in explicit detail
Is the life I’ve not eaten. To have is enough.
The perfect Magic Realist does play it tough.
Having chosen a path where my heart must prevail,
I’m now on a strict diet that can’t include fame.

The Most Obvious Secret

Not So Blissful An Ignorance

A circus of three rings is the number preferred.
It makes sense of insanity and it provides
Division of attention among all odd things
That congrue in a cluster where impotent kings
Take their hand at mismanagement. No one decides
What to not pay attention to by thought or word.

Divided is the nation. Two worlds are as two…
Incongruent but yet so. There’s no precedent
For divergent societies to understand
Civil war in a new age yet on the same land
Stained with blood of our ancestors. Our swift descent
Was decades in the making. It now has come due.

 In The Room are two elephants, both of great size.
Each ignored by the other, they merge into one
Grip that fits all occasions with realities
Fatally coexistent. The hope one may seize
Is that change is eternal. Nothing is begun
Without somehow expecting to deal with some lies.

Human Nature continues. I within it all
Am amazed and enlightened by all that is seen
As a fervent backlashing. Much wider awake
One becomes in observance. Another mistake
Nature may have made, and it may wipe the slate clean
Of its aberrant outgrowth. To it, we are small.

A More Ethical Workplace?

Human Resource Empowerment

My boss tells me to lie to my clients sometimes.
Faking it ‘til I make it is not quite my way.
Yet that’s what is expected of me at my work.
It’s as if when truth is spoken, folks go berserk.
Companies and their values can lead folks astray
Of their moral makeup due to innocent crimes.

People do things to others that aren’t very nice
Just because they can do them with no consequence
That’s substantial enough to encourage a change
In aberrant behavior. And it isn’t strange
That in lieu of a conscience, the uncommon sense
Is to sell one’s humanity at the best price.

Mothers lie to their young children, and that is fine.
Any act done in pure love is always ok.
If a gunman would ask me where people are hid
I would lie to deter him. My heart would forbid
Giving him the advantage. It isn’t my way.
My own spirit will tell me when I’ve crossed the line.

Life is not based on morals but humanity.
Morals change with the ages, and peoples, and lands…
But the pure human heart knows what is right from wrong.
Moral compasses are built but are not so strong
When selfish ego motives outweigh the demands
Of the earth and the whole human society.

Death Rattle

Painted Into The Corner Of Darkness

Stay Alive. That’s a challenge. I’d better not fail.
Chances are I won’t do that, but chances are that
I will die in the process through no fault of mine…
Not even indirectly, which would suit me fine.
Let the shit happen quickly. The drop of a hat
Is a reason acceptable for me to bail.

As the brunt of life’s karma comes on at full force…
When there’s no one to go to; all bridges are burnt,
And I can’t find an answer to save my own soul,
Have I left any reason to aim for a goal?
I must still think I’m worthy, because if I weren’t
I would not be attuned to a special resource.

As the hat drops, the shoe falls. I know not which one
To entangle the horns of with my intellect
Or the brute force I muster when misdirected.
Anyone who would say that I’m better off dead
Hasn’t suffered like I have and has no respect
For the foolish and how in err they get things done.

The Death Rattle I feel, and it hangs fairly low.
In the pit of my stomach is where it begins
To erupt through the heart chakra into my throat.
When denied every platform I need to promote…
I must know that it’s karma for all my past sins.
Hopefully there’s an answer my living can show.

 

The Time Is Always Now

The Infinite Coupling Of Existence

The body is a cosmos with a cosmos.
It’s made up of some particles – none that are me.
I’m the space in-between all the physicalness.
I came into this stardust to grow. My progress
Is determined completely by how well I see
I am not who the body is nor even close.

Knowing what time it is when a challenge comes due
Is somewhat of an asset that I have right now
Which is happening always. My life and my plight
Are two separate entities. I do me right
When I come to my senses – the five that allow
The connection to spirit in all that is new.

There is only one moment. In it everything
That is happening changes, for now and always.
Life is meant to have challenges. It’s how we grow.
Satisfaction is futile. As long as I know
That it’s part of all drama, my character plays
Its best role as a novice yet up and coming.

“This time you’ve gone to far, God! No more can I take.”
It’s a comedy act that I’ve played in the past.
I will deal with each crisis life tosses my way
And rejoice in its coming. That way I will stay
In relief of the burden. No longer typecast
The perpetual loser, I am my fair shake.

Never Give Up

Righteous Perseverance

One day I decided to just quit everything…
My spirituality and relationships,
My career, and life as I then knew it to be.
I went into the woods where God did speak to me
After asking, “What reason would come from your lips
As to why I should not quit? What hope will it bring?”

I was told, “Look around you. Do you see the fern
And the bamboo?” I said, “Yes,” and then I was told
They were both given good care with plenty of light,
Lots of water and nourishment. All was done right
To support and protect them from the bitter cold.
Divine providence is something they need not earn.

The fern grew rather quickly. Its rich brilliant green
Blanketed all the forest floor. From the bamboo
Came no sign of its growing. God chose not to quit.
With omnipotent intent, nature must submit
To the will of divinity. The bamboo grew
At a much slower rate, and it isn’t obscene.

After many long years the bamboo did emerge…
But somewhat insignificant. Yet within weeks
It shot up to great heights. Its roots took time to grow
And become strong for all that it would undergo
In its own unique process. That which my soul seeks
Will come not by my quitting. I can stop the urge.

Keep Breathing

Go On No Matter What

People say, “Just Keep Breathing; all will turn out fine…”
As if life is a breath test. It drives me insane.

I don’t mean to be cranky… or maybe I do.
I’m awash in confusion. Should my face turn blue
Due to misunderstanding, I’ve nothing to gain.
Crisis times trigger breathing by nature’s design.

That first breath was a doozy. It blew me away
From the one who contained me, for better or worse.
Why should I keep on breathing? It gets rather old.
I can breathe my damned lungs numb. Nothing will unfold
But a room full of hot air. Is my life a curse?
Or do those who can breathe well have something to say?

I take my breath for granted, as many folks do
In the mainstream of living and keeping ends tied
But it’s the only answer to staying alive.
We can never stop breathing. It’s how we survive.
Once the technique is learned, wellness can’t be denied.
Then I’m able to handle what I’m going through.

I can curse like a sailor because I was one.
I’ve screwed up rather royally for one lost soul.
I’ll breathe that along with the fresh air I’m allowed.
Things I’ve done in the past can never make me proud.
I’m alive to the point where I still can be whole.
The decision to breathe is a new life begun.

Racing Thoughts

Formula 1 Brain

So one after the other, they leapfrog around
And create their own business that can’t be resolved
By themselves nor known others. Their quest is futile.
In their race for more heartache each painstaking while,
They prevent me from being more spirit evolved.
What they come up with isn’t at all that profound.

Keeping me wide awake at nights, they have control
Of my very existence. I need to detach
From the process that isn’t a real part of me.
Knowing that it is not me allows me to see
What it is that would be but a more fitting match.
I know that which I don’t want and what makes me whole.

Panic thinking is useless. It serves no purpose.
From that powerful standpoint I’m able to choose
Something else to focus on as hard it may be.
I may regain some control eventually.
It seems to be a gamble. There is much to loose
Because if I do nothing, further I’ll regress.

Then there’s always the body – the final frontier.
Since I know thinking sucks now, I know my breathing
Will provide a diversion and needed relief.
When caught up in a problem, relaxing is chief.
A small pocket of comfort this small act will bring.
Issues still will exist, but stress will disappear.

Evolution Through Disruption

The Cost Of Living Buisness

All the worst of my problems alone I create
Through the master controller of identity
On the personal level. I’m doomed to attack.
For the rest of my life here I’ll just watch my back.
Evil doesn’t become me, but insanity
Seems to be what consumes me and authors my fate.

The abstracted part of me – the self not made whole –
Is only form identity. It’s not the same
As the timeless consciousness that I am truly.
Everyone is that essence with none else to be.
With this form I am subject to sorrow and shame
That I feel often times to the depths of my soul.

Oneself can’t be perfected. It’s like whack-a-mole.
Once things are put to order, something falls apart.
Never ending the struggle it is to portray
A complete living model. And I must obey
The aspect of disruption. It strengthens my heart
Just to know of the sick truth I cannot control.

Evolution of consciousness cannot take place
In a world picture perfect with no suffering.
One would dance on the surface of life and not grow.
Compassion and deep insights one can’t come to know.
Disruption in my life is a wonderful thing
If I can learn to trust it as God’s loving grace.

The Myth Of Milk And Honey

Not All That Glitters Is Gold

Stores filled with people clamoring for the best deal
As each fake Friday blackens throughout the seasons…
I must know which is symbol form that which is real.
I can only know that by the way that I feel –
Like a child in a candy world. Many reasons
I can conjure but none that the truth may reveal.

Differences exist between wealth and money.
One is purely a symbol; the other, concrete.
Confusion between these two is the cause of pain,
Suffering, and such issues that drive folks insane.
I’m a sad ‘weak in trading.’ I am in defeat
If I can’t see myself through the illusory.

Oddly complex abstractions, ideologies,
And inscrutable systems confound consciousness.
Physical is reality – the earth and trees,
And the waters and creatures partaking the breeze.
I do not believe I can be anything less
Than the earth that produced me for none to appease.

All the hills are dark shadows. Forever they flow
From one form to another. Indeed nothing stands.
God’s green earth is diaphanous. It disappears
Like the music of ages along with all fears.
My true wealth is a measure of how life expands
Through this one made of value who this world can know.

Life Or Death

Choice Or Sentance

It’s a matter of being – or not being here.
In one tenth of an instant all life could be gone.
Then what happens thereafter? Don’t go there so fast.
Though the grips of electrons at best only last
But a non-fatal flailing… do curse the new dawn.
Obstacles are withstanding. I can’t disappear.

Fascination I’m left with – it’s all that remains –
For the movement of particles… or anything
Well accustomed to light speed. I live for the spark
That gives honor to contrast between light and dark.
Only when it gets awful, destructive thinking
Leaves me languidly livid – the worst of all pains.

Living just for this moment, relief I do find.
Distraction from rejection is re-translation
Of the latter to loveliness, but at a cost
To the hurtful part of me who is rather lost
In this world become nasty beyond all reason.
Can creatures like electrons be known to be kind?

 If ever the thereafter consumes my yearning
For the pain to be over, the present is one
That cannot be mistaken for past rotten deeds
Perpetrated in darkness for my selfish needs.
That I get to remain here, true justice is done.
On no thin thread of mercy I’m willing to cling.

A Tear And A Smile

The Faces Of Life

With my face I’m an actor upon the earth stage.
I would not exchange sorrows of my heart for joys
Of the multitude fruitful. I’d not have the tears
Sadness makes to flow from me to laughter and cheers.
With a tear and a smile I give faith to my ploys.
None of life’s hidden secrets shall cause me outrage.

May the tear unite me with those of broken hearts
And the smile be the sign of my joy in being.
This, the crux of the framework for living life well,
Can become just the story that I’m meant to tell
To the world that gave birth to me, and it will bring
Episodes that are balanced in all of their parts.

I want hunger for love and beauty to be strong
In the depths of my spirit, for I have seen those
Who are satisfied being most wretched and vile.
Sighs of those I’ve heard yearning and Longing a while
Are the sweetest melody that one could compose.
May the hunger consume me as I play along.

Vapor rises from sea water. Clouds they become
That float above and over the hills and valleys
‘til eventually they encounter a breeze
Then fall weeping their way back to rivers and seas.
To encounter life’s cycles with relative ease
Is a role I’m worth playing and where I act from.

On Preparing To Diet

Getting Ready For Vital Work

We are that which we eat. Someone say it ain’t so.
What goes into my bloodstream becomes part of me.
If I quack like a pig and break wind like a cow
I need not fail to wonder since they are my chow.
My hot wings have no feathers so how can I flee
The zoo which is my body? And do my cells know?

I am that which I think. I cannot deny that.
Every thought that I’m thinking connects to others
Of the same kind. Together they color my mood.
So it is best that I consume good mental food
So my life may be livable as it occurs.
Consciously I must keep my mood from falling flat.

Many decades of pent up negativity
Is the result of carelessness. What I take in
To my body and mind must be wholesome and free
Of all negative karma. What goes into me
Must be free of what kills me or else it is sin
That is rough on the soul when compounded daily.

Before starting a diet it’s best to prepare
Through an intensive purging of body and mind.
One can bypass the junk food the same as bad thought.
Though it takes lots of effort I will grow a lot
In the ways of the spirit as life is designed.
Dieting is the way we become more aware.

The Dream Of Life

...Yet It Seems Almost Real

Awaken from illusion? Which one would that be?
Just as black implies white, self implies the other.
Death brings meaning to life. This is fundamental.
Not a stranger am I in this place where I dwell.
Believing my existence was meant to occur,
Nothing short of a death wish can awaken me.

People are going crazy as far as I see
Or perhaps it’s been ongoing since time began.
We were all meant to be here. If this isn’t true
Then we might as well give up. The grand party zoo
Is far off the deep end and akin to the klan.
Colors true are most vibrant when one is dream free.

Nine eleven was done by the Arabs, so we
Came together as one nation, yet what happened
On the sixth of the first month is nothing to fear.
Perpetrated by white men, it’s perfectly clear
That one chunk of the nation cannot comprehend
What it means to be human most regrettably.

If I dreamed many lifetimes, each of many years,
And I could author all of them as I desire,
I would want for surprise after so many nights.
I would ask for a gamble so sometimes life bites.
God comes into each person that growth may transpire.
If that presence is ignored I nurture my fears.

There Is No Insecurity

Well Worth Repetition

If God so clothed the ladybugs why should I fear
That I might become needy in ways that demean
Self-respect and life purpose? My faith tank is low.
Since Jesus is the boss’s son, shouldn’t I know
He’s also my big brother? Does that sound obscene?
Only that which is positive do I adhere.

He would not have been put to death in India,
Where the people believe we’re all God in disguise.
They would just have accepted him as a wise one.
But the task put upon him would not have been done
Were he not among wilder folk and much less wise
And with perverse attachments to harsh Roman law.

Today knowledge is plentiful as it has been
Throughout all human history. Teachings abound
For the self’s true awakening. Why do I wait?
Is it fear that my ego will not feel so great
Since it’s only a concept and nothing profound?
The chance to think of acting will come once again.

Transformation of myself into unattached
Selflessness is impossible. That is because
I have selfish reasons for wanting to do so.
In the death of the fake self the true one will grow
In accordance with all the spiritual laws.
In a nest of security my soul is hatched.

Negative Thought Removal

Remedy For The Common Mood

Negative thoughts are just thoughts. Don’t identify
Them as good ones and bad ones. They all are the same
In that I’m either conscious of them or I’m not.
It is in the subconscious where some become fraught
In the ways they affect me. Yet I cannot blame
Them for my bad behavior, though hard I may try.

Try not to think of monkeys for just a brief while.
The mere thought makes the mind but a monkey machine
Generating more monkeys than ever wanted.
The mind does amplify whatever it is fed.
So, to think not a negative thought is obscene
Because I cannot do it. It isn’t my style.

Understanding that my thoughts are not part of me
Is the key to becoming more fully aware
That my unconscious thinking can get out of hand.
It seduces me to places I hadn’t planned.
If I try to not think them I welcome despair.
This is quite a predicament as I can see.

So, what is the solution? Surely there must be
One that is most appropriate and effective.
Since the mind can’t digest well, it needs to be fed
Positive support by me. Today I’m not dead.
That’s of utmost importance. My will is to live.
Knowing not when life will end is just fine with me.

What Shall I Do?

Suspenseful Purpose

The Suspension of Matter in relative space
Is the quaint cosmic setting in which all exists.
Microphysics and those of unspeakable size
Bend the best minds of science. Must I realize
That all that I’m a part of not only consists
Of all that I can sense in my humblest embrace?

I know not what to do and need guidance always.
Thankfully it’s available to everyone.
Love the earth, sun, and animals. Despise riches.
Give alms to everyone who asks. Treat that which is
With respect and tread gently. Do have lots of fun.
To the dense and the loony, give them their just praise.

All your income and labor, devote to others.
Do hate tyrants and argue not concerning God.
Have patience and indulgence with other people.
Take your hat off to nothing, and don’t take the bull.
Go freely with the powerful, stupid, and odd…
And the mothers of families as life occurs.

Re-Examine all you’ve been taught at any school…
Or the church or from any book. That which insults
Your own soul, do dismiss it. Your flesh can’t but be
Poetry in its full richness of fluency.
Silent lines of the lips and face, living exalts.
The whole body becomes then a most gracious tool.

Joyful Always?

The Magnificent Spirit

The left nut I would give and the gold kitchen sink
To find joy in the moment that lasts all day long.
I hear say there are those who are Joyful Always.
Fettered folk who fall needy should offer them praise.
I shall not show my jealousy. That would be wrong.
Sneaking up on some joy I at all doth bethink.

I have felt awfully happy even while in pain.
The problem is sustaining it more than a while.
Wellbeing means exuberance. Life energy
Flows without interference thus most easily.
How to get there and stay there could fit my profile
If I got rid of thinking that drives me insane.

Depression means life energy has reached a low
Through the cycles recursive of tapes that are played
From the cage of the closed mind. The only way out
Is to know my mortality without a doubt.
In this way I’m reminded of my true crusade.
Pettiness has no path on the way I should go.

 I create what I’m doing in every detail.
Karma means it’s my action. The questions for me
Are: How joyful am I? And how much do I give
Out to others? This is a most wise way to live
For this brief earthly sojourn. I can choose to be
Cognizant of my time here. That way I can’t fail.

Consciousness Inside Out

All The Cosmos Within

I am doing this world as, in turn, it does me.
Consciousness therefore flows between both easily
If I can but remember this always is true
Even though I’m brought up with a different view –
One whose mental distortions make it hard to see
That I am everything that the cosmos must be.

Every outside there is has as well an inside.
They are different yet they go with each other.
There’s a secret between them: To seek out new ways
To discover their sameness so that both will raise
Ever higher their consciousness and empower
Each the other with respect and mutual pride.

Consciousness is of two types. One is the spotlight
That stays focused on one thing at one time only.
The other is the floodlight. It is more aware
Of the general picture, and it will take care
Of what’s in the background automatically
In support of the spotlight who wants to shine bright.

My behavior and how I feel differs not from
That of this world in total. It and I are one
And the same. This is true for all inside out pairs.
That of me which is floodlight is the one who cares
About all that exists and can do harm to none.
Infinitely profound is the beat of my drum.

One Simple Trait

Focused Intent

How do birds of prey find exactly what they want
As they scan countless acres of raw wilderness?
Nature gives them keen senses. Their infrared sight
Helps them track mammal urine in pitch black of night.
Extreme intent and focus they also possess.
Any creature below them they’re willing to daunt.

Andrew Carnegie, after he made great success,
Caught the ire of the government. They thought that he
Was engaged in illegal things. He proved them wrong.
When they asked him why his businesses were so strong…
“I can keep myself focused,” he said truthfully,
“On one thing for five minutes. I won’t go for less.”

School systems value information as ideal,
And too much floods the mind with what it does not own.
When attached to memory, I identify
With the things I remember and barely get by.
Knowledge is the true quest. Information alone
Is useless because it’s not the same as what’s real.

What too much information can do to the mind
Is severe Attention Deficiency Syndrome.
One loses the ability to take things in

Through the senses and consciousness. It’s such a sin.
To know that I know not much gets me close to home
In this world of deep data that traps humankind.

Who Was Jim Crow?

Darkest Roots Of The History

Jim Crow wasn’t a real person but a stage act
Performed by Thomas Dartmouth Rice, a white actor.
The sole act he performed was called Jumping Jim Crow.
Dressed in rags and with blackface, on stage he would go
To depict lives of black folks as stupid and poor.
He gained much benefit from the twisting of fact.

This form of entertainment became popular.
He himself was a Yankee, yet traveled afar
Spreading his brand of poison all over the land
To poor downtrodden hardworking whites who could stand
Making fun of a scapegoat, though feathers and tar
Would be much preferable and hugely bizarre.

In those times laws were strictly enforced to keep blacks
From comingling with whites in any kind of way.
Ruthless rules of repression were called Jim Crow laws.
…Seems the dude’s act was fruitful in hindsight because
Uncle Sam gave it substance, so people could say
That it’s righteous for whites to administer tax.

Systemic Segregation exists to this day.
Complete eradication is futile at best.
Its roots aren’t all that southern. They grow through the soil
Of the earth all are made of. Unending turmoil
Is the plight of humanity as it’s expressed
Through our hateful behaviors. Are we our own prey?

I Don’t Have A Girlfriend, Mommy

Honest!

You may interrogate me, and that would be fine.
I’m a young man of temperance and keen insight.
Yes, I did have a good time at nursery school.
I’m a big fan there. Everyone thinks that I’m cool.
…No, the girls don’t excite me. I think they’re alright
But I’m not there for romance, by nature’s design.

We all like to play ghost busters. That’s lots of fun.
Make believe is the medium I manage well.
I become the aggressor in positive ways
Showing bad guys in all worlds that crime never pays.
Bless your heart, mommy. I’ve no sad story to tell
 Nor a secret to keep from you or anyone.

Dinosaurs is another game we played today.
I like being the T-Rex. Our styles are the same –
Both ferocious and timid but smarter than all.
And the bigger they are, the less chance that they’ll fall.
Coyness is below me. I harbor no shame.
Truthfulness is a virtue not just for display.

I do not have a girlfriend, but friends who are girls
Are somewhat of some interest. That’s about it.
You’re the one I come home to and who I most love.
We both planned our acquaintance in heaven above
Where we’ve made many others to which we commit.
As your womb was my oyster, I’m one of your pearls.

Appreciation

Life And Death Are Both Blessings

There’s so much that I live for. It’s easy to say.
Often times I may say it while not feeling whole.
It is by social habit I wear the costume
Of the life-loving specimen who hides much gloom.
Time I have on this earth is for growth of my soul.
Should death come within hours, I’ll have much time to pray.

All my prospects and travels and brief love affairs
I do cherish more strongly when faced with the threat
That within a small march of days all will be gone.
How would I spend that time? Will the song of the swan
Be discordant to deaf ears? Will there be regret?
Or will I in bliss wait for my moving upstairs?

The dear deer in the headlights on one pitch black night
Is frozen in astonishment and total shock
That life may end abruptly. If the driver yields
Then the creature finds newness in grazing its fields.
Reveille from the universe is a hard knock
To quotidian consciousness, but that’s alright.

If the cataclysm doesn’t happen as planned
I won’t miss all the good things I normally do,
And with consciousness freshened with each living breath,
It is truly a blessing to come close to death –
Close enough to be shaken to a brighter view.
I appreciate living a life that is grand.

What Are Others Thinking Of Me?

A World of Delightful, Imaginative Wonder

Though it matters not at all still I may wonder
What it is people think of me. So, I’m human
And affected by super moons and cosmic waves
And by all the insane things that my body craves.
I’m ok with a friendship and don’t need a plan
To affect my appearance so life can occur.

Temperance is the patience and moderation
Necessary for maintaining healthy balance
About wanting and needing others in our lives.
In complex social structures, the fittest survives.
The death of an old cycle leads to the next chance
To become more acquainted with laughter and fun.

Offerings may come to me. I have a strong sense
That this life is my oyster and I am its pearl.
What comes in then goes outward for all to behold.
Dreams and wishes of popularity unfold
As I watch ever consciously my path unfurl.
I’m at peace with my loving which is quite intense.

People get rather phony with social profiles
That are perfectly polished as if of the gods.
No one’s life is fantastic nor is it the pits.
With a little help from my friends and my keen wits,
I become others’ best thoughts though they are facades
That are yet therapeutic because they bring smiles.

Story Theater

Storytale Weaving

Once upon a time there was a worthy black man –
One who many supported to take on the task
Of preparing this young nation for a new age.
We The People had spoken. This has caused much rage
Among those white supremacists proud to unmask
Their grotesque ugliness because they’re better than…

Masterminds were the Russians who planned an attack
To the heart of our functioning as a free land
Where hatred is allowed but not criminal acts.
It’s ok though to find ways to single out blacks
To inflict harm upon them. They must understand
That the law is a needle within a haystack.

So, the nation was hijacked. For four hellish years
Daily we were inundated with wicked lies.
Psychic tension unyielding had become the norm.
Turning on some device to another shit storm
Of outrageous behavior became not so wise
But not knowing leads to aggravation of fears.

The orange one-term crook loser still has much control
Of a grand old fart party and all whites who hate.
My black heart is awakened to uncivil rights
That demand exaltation of all the land’s whites.
It’s not likely to happen. What wrath lies in wait
That will swallow this nation and blacken its soul?

Storytelling is commonplace post the disease
That infected this nation and did it great harm.
Those who lose are sore losers and act like children.
The orange rump is now god among wicked white men.
Can the story have an ending where we disarm
Once again like what happened back in the sixties?

Loving Kindness

A Last Glimmer Of Hope

Is there one supreme consciousness who knows all things
And lives throughout eternity in a fine place
Among worshiping angels and folks who were good
While engaging their brief duty of humanhood
On one odd speck of stardust deficient of grace?
That sounds God awful human as e’er the dick swings.

Consciousness is at issue. What atheists know
Or don’t know is precisely defined with logic
That would rival most Vulcans. Their minds are focused
On the tangible evidence. Science they trust
Over mere intuition, thinking it’s a trick
To distort their reality and cause them woe.

That’s why faith is a mystery. Others include
Life and death and the changing of blood into wine.
No one knows what will happen for sure when we die.
Anything conjured up then is worth a good try
As a viable framework with which to align.
The ego wants its virtuousness to exude.

Cultivation of virtue just makes common sense,
But it’s hard to attain such and stay there for long
Due to traits that aren’t virtuous, but that’s ok.
Cultivating Presence is the natural way
To disburse Loving Kindness. Not much can go wrong.
Communion with oneself is most proper defense.

Why People Hurt People

Blind Desperation

Civil War is but one thing devolved into two.
When the brain’s hemispheres get along not at all
It is called epilepsy. There’s loss of control
Of the muscular functions. Oneself isn’t whole
When attacks come at random. This is nothing small.
One can’t predict at all when the next one is due.

Trauma is about not being able to feel
All the pain that it causes. The soul is made numb.
Being so cut off from one’s own humanity,
Desperate are behaviors that all others see
As a problem to intricate to overcome.
Every new dawn is swallowed in hopeless ordeal.

Self-destructive behaviors are frustrated by
Self-preservative programming. Clearly at odds,
One must sort through the numbness and draw from the pain
Something that feels like hatred for relative gain.
What society offers completely defrauds
Some of us as truth warriors willing to die.

What has died is the hope for an old way of life
When we were manufacturers with steady jobs.
Drug and alcohol crises and suicide rates
Climbing higher each year is the fate that awaits
Those of us who feel cornered. The menacing mobs
Will not cease their aggression until there’s no strife.

The Power Of Walking Away

Moving On

Boundaries are a precious thing. When they’re ignored
People will take advantage of all that we are.
That’s just Human Behavior. We all are guilty.
Even without our noticing, we completely
Take advantage of others. Some will go too far
Such that damage is too complex to be explored.

How does one regain sovereignty after it’s lost
Through one’s need for approval? It cannot be done
Unless one has direction and purpose in life.
If these two are not present one will suffer strife
At the comfort of others. But what of the one
Whose value can be purchased at such a high cost?

When I feel obligated to those I work for,
Or to family, friends, or others I may know,
Then I tell them that my time is worth less than theirs.
I end up in a sick game of musical chairs
Where I’m always left standing with nothing to show.
Is there some sense in pondering why I’d want more?

Some people are real assholes, and some… just a bit.
I can love them just as much as I do the kind-
Hearted angles among us if firmly I stand
In my fullest integrity. None can demand
Self-destructive behavior of me. I shall find
That by Walking Away, true freedom I permit.

The Hannitary Napkin

Neuter Hygiene

When old men have their periods nothing is worse
Than to be not protected from uncontrolled flow.
The obese orange faced loser while on the golf course
Needs assurance that when it comes out with great force
There will be someone nearby unlike Morning Joe
Who will peddle the bullshit. I think it’s perverse.

Their relationship decades in blossoming mode
Is not one in compliance with anything good.
It’s not by definitions that words have meanings
But in how they are twisted to mean other things.
Multilayered is the fist-fucked fabric understood.
Too much of it seeps through, and to none is it owed.

Long before there was fox news, people just used rags
To absorb heavy leakage periodically.
Nowadays there are assholes who know how to suck
Like the best in the business. This arrogant schmuck
Is the ear-to-rump doctor for his majesty
With accent on the ‘jest’ as in funny freak flags.

Worthwhile and cost effective for neuter hygiene,
This fine Hannity product is just right for those
With weak minds ‘liberated’ to only believe
Those whose craft is in essence to cheat and deceive.
Bigotry is a virtue. Those who dare oppose
Risk the wrath of the fabric that just can’t come clean.

The Biggest Joke Of All

The Illusory Duo

Jokes I play on myself are imaginative.
If it weren’t for my trick self, I’d have none at all.
Some say I should get rid of it, But I cannot,
Because it thinks like I do. I’m all that it’s got.
Mostly it takes the big roles. I’m left with the small.
I ask myself if this is the right way to live.

But, alas, it can’t answer. It thinks everything
Is an intricate puzzle it only can solve.
When it can’t, it’s frustrated, as if it exists
As a viable entity. On it persists
In its ‘it-centric’ world where all things must revolve.
Onto some sense of purpose this person must cling.

So, there’s no getting rid of this subsequent dude
Come about like a tattoo etched over decades
Of abuse of his surface – a time tapestry
Of eternal becoming. The ink runs through me
But shows up not through thick skin. Freely it pervades
And presents as my ego. As such, I am screwed.

I end up doing nothing and leaving it to
That which is ever conscious and omni aware.
I can’t grasp nor rid myself of all I become.
I alone cannot get it. The getting comes from
Consciousness Universal which is everywhere.
There’s no need to get anything but a damned clue.

Enigma Be

Existence Indecipherable

Things get more out of order as time marches on.
Randomness unpredictable is quite the way
That the universe functions. With dark energy
Keeping things from collapsing most violently,
Gravity on the earth plane has but to obey
Forces that are entropic and ever foregone.

How many different ways something can occur
Is its measure of entropy. It is also…
Of all possible combinations energy
Can have both magnitude and direction. To be
In a world such as this one, much one need not know
Lest the mind be molested by its constant whirr.

Verily I say nothing if I mention not
That collisions in deep space make crap loads of light
That is bright and kinetic. It goes everywhere.
Gravity, for that purpose, is something to bear
And transform into purpose for making things right
By the stardust I’m made of. I am nature’s plot.

Every thing has its place, and it’s Out Of Order,
And with randomness left to imagination.
As part of the whole process, I need be aware
That I am such. I’ll do much to take special care
Of my share of enigma, for in the long run,
Everything that happens is as I would prefer.

It Is All Happening Now

Eternal Beingness

Something feels great big gobs of relief in knowing
That the only occurrence is spontaneous.
Things just happen as they should or shouldn’t without
Consciousness being present. And yet there’s no doubt
Things continue to function as many discuss
Ways that they can control them because that’s their thing.

Some things get in the way of my thinking clearly.
Knowing full well that that is an oxymoron,
Still I try to break through the illusion of me.
Thoughts and feelings are much of what I seem to be.
Cloudiness leads to conclusions falsely foregone.
Reset I must my consciousness to better see.

Everything is a “happening.” This is groovy!
Time warps are but ideas, but breathing is real
Just as retinal rods and cones processing light.
Fortunately no one trusts me to get that right.
In respectful observance I touch the ideal.
Knowing there’s no observer I’m there completely.

So, there’s no self to speak of. It’s all happening.
All of now is eternal and is everywhere.
Breathing in and out happens as wind moves the clouds
Whether fate shows its favor to protesting crowds.
Nothing is more important than being aware
That distinction exists not. I am everything.

Swamp Draining Adventures

Entertained By Raw Sewage

That damned cesspool’s been backed up for more than four years
Yet the stench is enticing… as if a preview
Of upcoming attractions. Much stinking assed shit
Is about to blast forth from the source that won’t quit.
Can this weak tribe of monkeys hurl any do do
That will spare them due justice? …Not as it appears.

It’s been snail’s time in coming. Now finally here,
The nectar of rejoicing intoxicates still.
Un-numbed nuts through news networks no more recreate
By consumption of bullshit and mind blowing hate.
The return to some normalcy counts as a thrill
After living for so long in relative fear.

Truth is like molten lava. It cools to a crust
After violent contact with all in its way.
A substrate that is purer and stronger is made –
One in which those upon it are rarely afraid
Of themselves nor their nation. Be not led astray
By assholes who hold office. Deserve they no trust.

Pettiness is perversity yet a pain pill
Post prescribed for perceptions of purgatory.
One hot day for a hanging is all I ask for.
If it drags on a few years, a decade, or more,
So be it because that’s the way it ought to be.
Entertainment forthcoming karma does fulfill.

Do I Really Exist?

Questioning Consciousness

Can I transform myself? Can I make myself sane…
Or more loving or unselfish? Is that my wish?
It would seem necessary to be these fine ways
If I am to be nurtured by other folks’ praise.
When I feel I can’t do it, I’m rather sluggish
In pursuit of direction, so I act in vain.

So much says I can’t do it, but I say I can.
Gravity is an odd consequence of time/space.
This aspect makes it seem alien of nature
But indeed how can that be? Earth can but assure
That itself and I are one. I fully embrace
What this is that I’m part of as one humbled man.

Within time and space equal, all that I can do
Can’t be done because I don’t exist in that way –
An ego-separated personality.
An idea based on a fake feeling of me
Is what passes for presence each and every day.
Putting things right is futile in absence of clue.

Things exist that I can and cannot do. That’s fine.
I would pay due respect, here, knowing I’ve no choice.
All that goes on of itself is all part of me…
Which includes all of this earth most naturally.
It and I are a mutually passive voice
With no message specific. Such Being Is Mine.

Africanized Forked Tongued Maricopa

A Radic alized Species

A day’s lesson in zoology is the news
Made aggressively in the streets of Lalaland.
Easily they’re excited by smells of bullshit.
Give them feces to feed on… My God! They won’t quit!
No one now recognizes that this is all planned
And pumped straight from the anus of whom all accuse.

The remote master chessman knows well in advance
How his pieces will play out his will, then begone.
So intrenched are his tentacles in our affairs
They feel righteously nice to some. Indeed who cares.
We can’t know how we’re fucked with. We’re not more withdrawn
But more prone to be entertained by circumstance.

These people are bananas! They’re stark fucking mad!
I thought I’d been the nutcase forever ‘til now.
Having been one, I know one, but don’t know them all…
And with these breeding maggots, there’d be no close call.
On I’ll go in damned comfort if I can allow
These assholes to amuse me. That can’t make me sad.

Checking for Asian DNANot for Bamboo –
Is the path of the brain ninja, but I digress…
Why not check for fried rice with traces of soy sauce
Through the most telltale patterns of slant Lissajous
Micro-minded for merit? You folk are a mess!
Next time your ilk go trippin’, I’ll know what to do.

What To Do While In Spirit…

Eternitity of Beingness

Not near death nor near living, for what do I wait?
…No sense of being conscious of self nor no one
Since the mere act of being is made of its own
Only substance of time flow ever to be known
As the thought come before next becomes the end run
Of this life come to be passed much due to dead weight?

This thought form of a body exists very real.
As an everyday model old, fine does it run.
Remembers it insanely well how to behave,
Or how to send its master to its early grave.
Incomplete thought entrapment can never be done.
Absolute nonexistence has no thought appeal.

From the viewpoint exalted far out and away
All of life is presented. Complain does the thought
Not of style nor of format nor technique surreal,
But for just being yanked from the world with such zeal.
Interruption? To think that, who then can’t be caught
In the fool’s web of arrogance for The Long Day?

Practicing hospice routine partakes pleasure’s peace.
Transition through reviewing as all it takes place
Has never been attended by one with a name
That has stuck damned fast to it butt gut wrenching shame.
My allowance here shows me the self I must face
For another while longer undoing my fleece.

Let Go And Relax

It'll all be over soon.

Off a cliff I am falling. What else can I do?
My death is clearly eminent. Fear have I none
For the probable outcome, so I’ll just relax.
If I hold on to something it will only tax
More than ever an emergent situation.
It will not change what happens, for all that I knew.

There are many debris that are falling along.
In the past, I had clutched them. Brief is our time here.
Things and I are important, but to let them go
Finds relief in life’s pressures and consummate woe.
Alibis are abundant to mitigate fear
That the things in my life are not where they belong.

I have responsibilities. People depend
Upon me for their purpose, and I upon theirs.
Things put in proper perspective cannot be wrong.
Insecure about living, how can I be strong?
By surviving compulsively, all my affairs
Are of careful avoidance of what must transcend.

Off the edge we are all thrown. Nativity gives
Each of us a good push into gravity space.
It’s above and below us, and there’s little time
For my messing with words trying to make them rhyme,
But it’s kind of a fetish. All that I embrace
On the way to the ending is not that which lives.

Control

An Evasive Illusion

I control not my thoughts nor the ways that I feel.
In a real sense I am them. To give up control
Is to have it completely. If I were to try
To gain absolute power by force I apply,
It will only disturb things, which isn’t my goal.
I must trust what the universe has to reveal.

Like a good friend this universe can be to me.
Trusting it like a person who knows me quite well,
I can give up the struggle of lying awake
Fretting over control of things. What A Headache!
But the friend who’s much bigger can banish the spell
 If my faith in this kind one is of high degree.

Universes are bodies. Cells know who they are
And have things delegated at every level.
If I can but allow them to do their damned work,
Then perhaps they would think that I’m not such a jerk
Having tried to control them. I’ve put them through hell.
My relationship with them is not up to par.

That which flows to all things and does nourish them all –
Both the left and the right and all manner between –
Lords not over creation nor seeks any claim
Of merit for accomplishments. All is the same
To the friend universal who surely has seen
Every bit of creation. I am not so small.

Purpose

What To Do About Being

Logic lashes through meaning. The human in me
Knows too much to ignore not the way that things are.
This star system is but a mere speck in deep space.
Planet earth is a micro speck cursed by our race.
New York City, a super micro spec, is far
Off the scale of significance, actually.

So, the source of creation may not even know
Of this speck of a system of which I’m a part.
If it ceased to exist in the blink of an eye,
Would it fail to take notice? I too much rely
On some force not within me to enter my heart.
Arrogance hinders me from just letting it go.

There’s no God given purpose for me to be here.
That all comes by conditioning. Humans perceive
Themselves as having purpose, but insensitive
We are to other species that are here to live
As we do – without discord. The web that we weave
Is of total entrapment in unconscious fear.

I Exist. That’s sufficient for me here and now.
My believing in something is not worth the pain
Of expecting good service from nature because
I’m the most worthy species. It gets no applause
From the source of creation. Why seek, but in vain,
What my purpose in life is? I can but allow.

The Futility Of Force

Flowing With What Goes

It’s a strange world we live in. As part of the Tao,
And composed of relationships complex and deep,
This cosmos is abundant. Perpetual change
Is its way of expressing. It will rearrange
That which needs evolution. It loses no sleep
Over what one may think. To no one does it bow.

In the system of Huawei, nature is the guide.
Existence is totality. All is one whole.
In accordance with nature one always should act.
Force will only disturb things. It has an impact
On one’s karma in this life. It darkens the soul.
It is better to do nothing and step aside.

Don’t impose interference. The pattern of things
That exists is dynamic and always in flow.
Some may look just like conflict, but actually,
They are interdependent, and they need to be.
The survival of each, neither colleague nor foe,
Is the Tao’s only purpose. It flies without wings.

It is hard to do nothing. By force of habit,
And the mind with its ego’s most arrogant ways,
I’ll unconsciously mess with things to get results.
But the Tao doesn’t chide me with vicious insults
In the form of bad outcomes and certain malaise
If indeed I remember to take note of it.

Before The Mind Rushes In

Peaceful Prelude To Illusion

The First Moments of noticing anything new
Flash within, yet, unnoticed, they then fade away.
Just as quickly, the ego mind wants to rush in
Because it needs to know things so it can begin
To adopt a conception. That is its forte.
Now, well shrouded, these first moments one cannot view.

If one is a professional, use of the mind
Is of immense importance throughout the workday.
If relied on completely though, one may become
Cold to others because the feelings have grown numb.
Circumvent well one can this and still not betray
All the skill and experience which is defined.

The paths of the spiritual healers are such
That their minds are no issue. They have them controlled
So that they reach the person and not the symptom…
Nor a patient or client. The healing comes from
Their connection with spirit. The power they hold
Is one most universal. We all are in touch.

Many times we’re not thinking. The moment we see
Something new, for a brief while, we take it all in.
There’s that space unattended and free of judgement.
Being more conscious of this awareness event
Intertwined with the ego is where to begin
Deepening of the person who I’m meant to be.

On Transforming The Tough Spot

Transforming the Bad Situation

Lessons learned by children who have gone through the worst
One could ever imagine are wisdom for all.
With our lives, our comparisons, uselessly made
To the wrong kinds of people may leave us betrayed
By ourselves through the process. The ones who are small
And erupting with life know not that they are cursed.

In the mid nineteen thirties, the plight of the Jews
That we know as the holocaust, was never known
By a brother and sister – the girl aged thirteen
And the boy, about eight years. Hate would intervene
In their healthy development. Left on their own
At the fate of the Nazis, they’d no right to choose.

Family Separation does damage untold
And creates special karma for those who do wrong.
This level of malevolent behavior brings
Upon its perpetrators appropriate things.
Thankfully, by God’s nature, most children are strong.
Fun and joy are their essence when they’re not controlled.

Taken from wealth and comfort to life in duress,
The young boy did adapt well. A toll it did take
On the teen and with hormones of adolescence.
Just because the boy lost something, she took offense
And belittled her brother who was a headache.
Her truest discontentment she could not repress.

They were then separated. This turn of events
Sent her off to a death camp where she did not die
But was worked to death daily for more than four years.
As the only survivor, she shed many tears
For the loss of her family. And this is why
She avowed to recover from guilt that torments.

She was harsh with her brother. He now was no more.
She regretted those last things she’d said in anger.
She committed to saying only a kind word
To all she may encounter, for it is preferred
Since we know not if this is the last encounter.
Her life blossomed because she found the open door.

The Hidden Truth About Politics

We The People Are Blind

Black and White it boils down to… The splitting of hairs
With complex interaction is the only way
To address governmental issues as they come.
It is hard to come up with the best rule of thumb.
Everyone has their duty and role they must play
In the health of the nation’s domestic affairs.

Personalities differ in so many ways
That it’s hard for mere humans to sort it all out.
So people by the thousands were asked to answer
Many hundreds of questions by a computer.
It came up with a model to mitigate doubt
About human behavior that’s worthy of praise.

A Table Periodic for how we behave,
This enlightening Personality Model
Created thirty years ago is what’s behind
Evolution of politics. Two frames of mind
Interact but with tension. They often repel
Each other when solution is what each should crave.

Liberals are holistic. They’re entrepreneurs –
Creative innovators of freedom and flow
Across borders and mindsets. Conservatives are
Conscientious, pragmatic, and not so bizarre
As to stray too dangerously from what they know.
Discussion is the only solution that cures.

That solution’s not easy, as history shows.
But it’s not like we have a choice. Our survival
Depends on evolution as one human race.
No one way is the rightest way in every case.
Each has its unique value to benefit all.
Interdependence is how a good nation grows.

Keeping Tradition Alive

An Effort Of Endurance

Cost of Being increases are not to be paid
To traditional artisans of India.
Expensive raw materials increase in price.
They’re lucky to break even, yet they sacrifice
Time and effort preserving ancient media.
Artifacts from this fort town are craftily made.

Molten metals are used and lots of chiseling.
The process calls for patience, for months it can take
To produce just one item. Focus and detail
Are the skills necessary. All at their avail
Are quaint tools and equipment, and for culture’s sake,
They offer to the world an aesthetic wellspring.

Melted pieces of copper and zinc fill the mold
That is packed using body weight with dirt and sand.
After buffing and polishing, bathing is done
In a sulfate solution. Each and every one
Has a signature color. They then etch by hand
Captivating designs for the world to behold.

  Wire is tapped into carved grooves. The rare soil they use
Comes only from the city of Bali. Therefore,
There’s a special uniqueness to art from this place.
Gig economies prosper but at a slow pace
In these times become urgent with unending war.
What can help such a market that’s destined to lose?