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You always looked at me and said "Darling smile"....
I smiled out of politeness because i wasn't sure what made me sad.....
You use to hold me tight when during the night my dreams were more than i could take...
I drank like the answer to all my problems were in some sort of crisis at the bottles bottom....
Then like I had to celebrate I pushed thru the safety in your arms and said " *******"...
With tears in my eyes and fear in my mind it made you the enemy.....
But when i heard no mayday from 20 000 leagues under the liquor...
I was happier than i ever was rescuing the answer that never came...
No first aid trying to resuscitate the dead reason for my misery will ever be equal to you...
Like I get it now they weren't calling for my help they were calling me away from you....
I see you sometimes with that bottle like you hear that SOS too....
I sent out a message from my hell neatly wrote in a bottle....
It reads BABE IM ALL THE HELP THEY NEED... GO BACK ILL COME BACK AS SOON AS I CAN....
And then I go back to my rescue just looking for answers somewhere at the bottom......
Lured by the siren voices of human aggrandizement,
The hedonistic, headlong pursuit of material satisfaction.
By the few who seek wealth and power
On a scale undreamed of
By the Caesars and Pharaohs
Or even by the lofty, pampered Imperialists
Of the heady nineteenth century.

Ignored, are the vast stinking, majority,
The teeming poor who sink deeper
Into the morass of hunger and wretchedness.
In circumstances of inescapable horror
Which breed hopelessness
And the smouldering hatred
Of lasting resentment and fear

A world of vast inequality.
Marshaled by the incorrigibly rich
In order to sate their selfish and aggressive
Lust for more.
An ideological evil
Which grips the lost and deprived
With the extinction of hope
And the rage to exact…a retribution.

Then there is the deterioration
Of international leadership,
The willingness or inability
Of world powers to control
Excess or anarchy within or without
Their borders…
Even whilst circling each other
With monstrous weaponry
And an engulfing, growing,
Antagonism of distrust.

America is in retreat to it’s fortress shores.
Europe is leaderless, timid and uncontactable.
Russia, near bankrupt, snarling aggression
And clawing back a buffer of unwilling former satellites.
Eurasia and the Middle East seething
With religious and racial warfare.
Africa in the throes of losing control
Of a world threatening Ebola pandemic.
China clawing it’s way forward
To global economic and military dominance.

A world without referees or rules
Where antagonistic giants force
The un-powerful to adopt
An  ultimatum of “either them or us”.
Where the threat of terrorism transcends borders every day,
Where genocidal practices and weapons of mass destruction,
Computer global anarchy and environmental depredation
Illustrate the growing volatility
Of a deteriorating world order.

There is a Paralysis of Will in mankind.
Anthropology, psychology and physiology
Recognise only one single human species.
But that species is impossibly fractionated….
By an entrenched pattern of conflict,
An inability to compromise,
A refusal to disperse wealth for the common good,
Global racial and religious disharmony and animosity
And a fundamental refusal to communicate
Proactively …at all.

The consequences of tolerating
And furthering this Paralysis of Will,
Shall lead mankind to an apocalypse.
The consequences of which,
Are just too terrible to contemplate.

Somehow we should, as one,
Engender… a common aspiration,
With a level of universal commitment,
To induce an attitude, a consciousness
Of great and abiding…
World Citizenship.

Realistic? …No!
Likely? …No!
Do you give it a snowballs chance in Hell? …Not this week!

Why?... The frailty of Human Nature!

M.
From just about as far away from everything as you can, thankfully, possibly get….
NEW ZEALAND.
20 September 2014
With thanks for base material from The Baha'i Universal House of Justice and Henry Kissinger's new book on"Threatening Chaos"
M.
The beauty of a woman
is in the poems she's wrote,
the dreams she's weaved
and all the stories she's told.

The beauty of a woman
is in the adventures she's taken,
the lives she's touched
and all the minds she's awakened.

The beauty of a woman
is in the caring she gives,
the sincerity in her laughter,
and the passion in her griefs.

It's not the expensive clothes she owns,
her body size, the diamonds she's worn.
Measure not the beauty of woman in gold,
for the beauty of a woman is reflected in her soul.
Dedicated to all women out there with an amazing mind and a beautiful soul. We are the gift of nature, soft enough to touch the core of others and strong enough to protect that and those important to us. I love you all. Believe in yourself and the world will believe in your power.

I'm honored to have it as the daily poem.
my eyes are slow to waking
to the dust filled light that swims
around my head in a dizzying dance.
these are the few precious seconds of
morning consciousness
where you are unaware of your body
your mind
and the room with the empty walls.
these seconds are filled with nothing but oxygen
that fills the lungs but does not yet touch the
brain
does not yet signal your logical state to
shake off the silken cobwebs of sleep.
but when those moments melt away like
sugar on your tongue
you are once again
the victim of
antagonizing reality.
for M*

never been good at it,
picking jobs, careers, wives,
was not one to
outline the steps,
to goals I could not
speak or define

so I bumped this way and that,
knocked down, dusted off, and
meandering, restarted and may,
unexpectedly,
have to do it
once again

once grooved,
let myself be fooled
by myself,
the best ole fooler I trusted,
that my track,
breeze to the back
was bumble free, straight,
planed and planned
and though accidentally,
what the heck

of course it never is...

you could write it all down,
the before, the softer,
the after, the harsher,
and the middle muddle
of visions hazy,
when you are too lazy
to engage

and to those of you
who see it clear,
on yellow pads and blue lines,
write down step one and two,
god bless you

Know though

there is no such thing
as free and easy
from the curves
that come up fast,
so fast that they
strangle you
near to death
or even past it

you can't imagine it,
I know, you can't,
and those who can,
likely no longer need to imagine it

but when you dare do,
clench eyes and make that ugliest rare bird
come to front and foremost
come to mind, you make it
fly to disappear,
to rarefied air,
where it,
you beg stay

and you do some good,
stupidly think you've collected
celestial brownie points that will
preserve and protect,
but in a flash bang
they have expired
just before the when you
needed them most

so go about your business,
but make no mistake,
others are going about it too,
their surprises the kind that
long term planners call disruptive

sure be sensible,
have a nest egg, a will,
good neighbors if you can,
top off the liquids
that life requires to
make the machinery run silent

work hard, pay attention
to the subtle changes
in your environment,
even hurricanes have a season,
and may you have a
go-bag in a closet,
gas in the tank,
for those days that are the
inevitable
works-in-process

but the only long term plan
that will you true require,
the one thing that will
save your neck,
chance you a chance
to defeat the unforeseen,
is not of paper, steel,
or money green,
it is character

I won't define it. You know it,
You make and or destroy it.

every day set some aside,
climb into night bed,
and recall the empathy
granted and given,
and from that,
build your own storage unit
for it won't be a mere rainy day,
but hail and volcano that will
leave you questioning existence

justify why you daily breathe,
and then exhale,
and say,
I go on
for I am of worth

this is long term planning,
survivor's insurance

This the only way to survive,
the days of reckoning
that you cannot reckon,
the days of wreck and tumult

but if you possess
character,
you will go on

ok, ok
what is character?
why it is that exact moment
when overwhelmed by the tumult,
you acknowledge that nonetheless,
you have the what and the wherewithal
to make it better
for someone else.
For Joshua Haines

Thanks for the invite kid,
but I am bulky enough
and don't need your weight
to carry

**** good writer
you are,
not a concede,
not an aiming to please,
"just the facts, ma'am"

not even twenty one
commander of the ship from
a mooring slipped,
a poetic trip well-begun

but

     *Follow for Follow?


no babe,
passing dude,
passed that point
of no purposed-return,
trading points and
placing my self worth
on a scale of followers,
or ranted counts of page views

I  may read you
cause write quite nicely,
but I don't inflate
nobody's ego,
for their own fake sake

counting false gods
got my people forty years
of desert wandering,
after 400 years of penal servitude,
so I have done my hard time,
for that exact crime

Whew!
That felt good!

you must of got me confused
with another whew

I was young once
till very recently,
even tho I am
four decades plus
you senior

so here is my story,

don't swap spit or follows,

or likes for show,
those who have my heart,
have my words freely

my audience is the sun,
my numerology glorious,
the blades of green beneath
my rabbits happy bunny dancing,
for every verse pleasured

those I count on,
ask not,
for they like me for the who in my poetry,
knowing fullness and well,
mine is theirs,
no need to trade favors

I will read your words,
but not for you,
but for them,
the best part
of the best of you

Let us together,
think about that...
and if ever there were a blade upon to fall,
this notion is both sharp,
and the map to freedom

good luck to us both...
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