"civilly" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
We being so hidden from those who
Have quietly borne and fed us,
How can we answer civilly
Their innocent invitations?
How can we say "we see you
As but-for-God's-grace-ourselves, as
Our caricatures (we yours), with
Time's telescope between us"?
How can we say "you presumed on
The accident of kinship,
Assumed our friendship coatlike,
Not as a badge one fights for"?
How say "and you remembered
The sins of our outlived selves and
Your own forgiveness, buried
The hatchet to slow music;
Shared money but not your secrets;
Will leave as your final legacy
A box double-locked by the spider
Packed with your unsolved problems"?
How say all this without capitals,
Italics, anger or pathos,
To those who have seen from the womb come
Enemies? How not say it?
2k
I
My five-five-fingers of my hands
Zestfully lived In serenity.
The three thrill fingers of my right hand:
Thumb, index finger and middle finger
Stoutly lived civilly and gleefully
Amongst her BROTHERS:
They rested gleefully upon the placid,
SHARP-SABLE-POINTED-DART.
II
Sharp sable pointed-dart;
Perched in the midst of the three thrill fingers
And laid rest upon the hungry,
****** DUSKY-SHEET, which sprawled
Bear flat on the glossy desk.
The glossy desk accompanying the earth
The earth accompanying its depth.
III
The other two fingers of my right hand:
Ring finger and little finger
Calmly leisure, plopped on the hungry,
****** dusky-sheet
And lent ears to the Sharp-sable-pointed-dart,
Sharp-sable-pointed-dart,
Muttering vignettes of yesterday
Muttering vignettes of today
Muttering vegnettes of tomorrow.
Upon the glossy desk
My five fingers of my left hand too
Laid rest, and eyeballed the sharp-sable-pointed-dart,
Muttering deep thoughts.
IV
Look,
All you who waded through lines:
All you who unearth the heart
Of this earth, hunting for treasures
Pore over my ten fingers.
My ten fingers,
As pure as a full ****** moon.
I have dunked deep my five fingers
Of my right hand with my progenitors
In a bowl of sweet dishes
And nibbled singed YAMS amidst
The thriving vegetables.
V
But my forefinger of my left hand
Never been raised above
To curse the heavens
Never been raised up to pinpoint
My progenitors' homeland
Never had it tasted any depravity
And never will it be licked
Or bit by the savage butchers of Meat
Who loved to fatten themselves on ******
And gratified their heart with
Juicy cup of blood and gore.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 4:34 AM UTC
Did your English toughness lead you to reject
the ancient discontents of history,
to rather seek modern realms of ethical choice, Wystan?
There were no streets named after you,
nor monuments sculpted in the parks,
nothing that would say more than your words.
Words read and pondered in ritual
to better grasp the gruel and poverty of my own.
You talk in my sleep, Professor,
staring back at all that I am not,
teaching that art is born of humiliation.
Did the shaving mirror stare as cruelly?
The task is in the present moment,
Auden's poetry civilly requests a comment.
Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 11:10 PM UTC
The desert is a place of contemplation
weaving baskets.. to be sold in the market
and talking civilly to flies and scorpions
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
I feel you in the nuts and bolts of me
And if you want to be mechanical about it
You leave the very hinges of my soul undone
Come in
No one ever said a sweet word to me
Without a knife to my spine soon to follow
No one has woke the ghost of my mother
I asked her, “Mother, can you see that light across Peck’s Beach, to the North?”
No one owns light
And it cannot be contained by any set of four walls or three
You see, if I wanted another piece of property
In the form of a pretty face
I’d have traded my mind again
For the spoils of another less-than-honorable war
And her name would be…
What use be a name for that type of woman?
At this point in my life, what name could evoke anything?
Other than yours, the one that I want to sing
I scaled a bridge the other day
What a lofty bridge it was,
Like something you might have dreamed up
Atop I saw a sun so bright,
So piercing
I could not look away
To say it reminded me of you would be no truer
Than all those pretty faces,
You my dear are less harsh than that blistering orb
But to be sure,
I wanted you next to me
all the while that I burned in the sun.
Jan 2, 2010
Jan 2, 2010 at 8:13 PM UTC
When I dream of equality...what's that got to be?
Should my business only hire people that look like me?
I should buy a white slave and set them free-In some centuries
Then never trust their kind simply standing next to me
Even though my kind brought them from their land!
I wont lift my feet when they need a hand!
I mean who do they think I am?
The descendant of the people who owned them?
Or that I'm living on stuff they built?
How dare they try and throw this guilt?
I'll never trust them publicly or expect them to be close to me
How tragic they cannot behave civilly- Just like me
They say my money is stained in blood
And I cringe when I hear them sling this mud
I mean I don't get anything for free!
Always screaming take some responsibility
Is it my fault all the owners look just like me?
We all believe in equality so go build your own economy!
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
It the competition bro, It’s the competition bro.
Its them against us, it us against them.
Reactions rooted in our brain stem, **** them means win.
We compete against our own human skin,
our own akin, Luke Anakin, I’m your father.
Competition have you Kane and Able, killing your own brother.
Competition is division, submission, inferiority, hierarchy, inequality, habituated, into a sophisticated jungle of pleasure and identity.
Can’t realize equality within a system grounded in competitive mentalities,
the Olympics, our games, who you rooting for? Lebron James, it’s all the same.
You can stand against hate, you can hate injustice, throw you money and morals, type a tweet and rest on your laurels,
but till competition dies, it matters not what's spoken oral.
It’s all a power struggle, its us against them, and somehow the ideal is everybody wins?
The hierarchy continues and you are a part of what's condemned. Lets not continue to pretend that its all racial,
competition accommodates all ends.
This dynamic wont change, don’t hold your breathe, number one death is cardiac arrest.
Fatality by food, that’s fear and survival, too much is never enough….don’t be fooled or get political correct tough, competition is cannibal, makes us remain animals,
breeds one to see threat, to defeat and make victory one’s meat, to compete and civilly eat another person's heart beat.
Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 1:53 PM UTC
Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging Aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:24 AM UTC
There is a human race for
existence in outer space
amongst stars and schemes,
intergalactic dreams
of Milky Ways.
A cosmic myriad
of eventual opportunity.
The future is written there
by astrological stars
in horoscopes and
scary self inflicted
prophesies of extinction.
Climates will change
and Mother Earth will
be estranged from
humanity if that is
what you call it.
Her wrath will be felt
in polar ice cap melts
and selfishly we'll drown in
the name of progress,
technological
advancements,
and our deluge
of need.
Or comets will dive
in flaming skies,
meteors will give rise
to mass panic and
the deathly cries
of life's demise
as we know it anyway.
There is a human race
which the wealthy embrace,
and money is no object.
Rocketing ambition
to be the saviours of
their own obliteration
billions is showered
in pollution and metal birds
jet packing to Mars.
There is a human race and
idiocy is life when
a bank balance means more
than equality and care,
the poor can just wallow
in despair and die of starvation
and squalid degradation.
While the fortunate can awe
at an international space station,
and visions of new beginnings
in an alien atmosphere.
A destiny in stars,
humanity on Mars
and the meek will be
shipped off like convicts
to build the golden paths
and the construction of
a new society,
guinea pigs of life
in a brave new world
Insanity unfurled
in slavery of a
new civilisation.
If that's what you call it
civilised.
With no regard for life,
Man kind civilly
traded in destruction
of the other
eight point seven million
species they shared
their home with.
Their is a human race
rich in stupidity their greed,
and money was the seed
for war and the annihilation
of morality and sensibility
and sensitivity to the beauty
in the gift of life
and the world.
There is a human race and
it's intellect is misplaced,
as self appointed custodians
of galaxies and distant clusters.
We are all the losers.
©Jacqui Slade
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
Your words cut like a knife,
Your actions make me scared.
The feelings you give me full of strife,
It seems like you forget what we shared.
I’m afraid of losing you,
But you leave me no choice.
If you cant be nice to me,
If we cant talk civilly,
I can’t be with you.
I love you more than anything,
But out timing is all wrong.
Our days may be numbered baby.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 6:55 PM UTC
Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
When respect is gone
When the rules are no more
When martyrs have to win
No lives matter
When titles and ranks of authority
Are constantly attacked, and can be scrutinized for doing a service
No lives matter
When no one is there to listen, to help, to protect you
Then your life matters
Your life cannot matter
Without others lives
Lives keep balance
Just because there's disagreement
Doesn't justify irrational behavior
This only proves
No lives matter
Once we learn to respect all
Once we learn no one including ourselves are perfect
Once we accept violence is not an answer
Once we accept accountability for ourselves
Once we stop pointing guns and fingers at one another
Will we start to civilly start thinking
Of our actions and the price we pay for them
Then maybe then will
All lives matter.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
You came to me 12 years ago as I was laying in a gutter.
You stuck out your hand and said your name was Joe.
Your hand was neither cold nor clammy, like they say.
It welcomed me, without a second glance.
You've been with me throughout the years, in many forms.
You come to me in my dreams, and conquer my nightmares.
You came to me outside a bar, and took my finger off the trigger.
You came to me in Louisiana and whispered that "Everything Will Be Okay".
Then you told me to "run".
And run I did.
I haven't been back since, yet you remain beside me.
You are the calm in my rage.
You are the glint in my blank stare.
You temper my anger and chart a course for my wrath.
You came to me in my sleep once, and told me its okay to cut a man's finger off, as long as its not his trigger finger.
You do not take away another mans right for vengeance.
This is a form of respect, for as long as he has his rights, and I have mine, then we can both talk civilly.
Thieves however, are never afforded respect.
I've asked you for what I wanted, but you only give me what I need.
We both understand that if I want anything more, I have to take it.
And when I make a plan, and that smile creases my face, I know that's your smile.
I can feel you looking out from behind my eyes when the ******* hits.
I can taste you in my kisses when I bite.
we are one and the same being, but you know so much more than I ever can.
I learned patience when you locked me up.
I learned temperance when you released me.
You taught how to to hit someone with a claw hammer.
And you taught me how to stop.
You taught me that you don't need safe words when you understand each other.
You are always with me.
Your cloak kept me warm when I lived on the street.
Your hands give me strength, when they guide my own.
And yet, I can offer you nothing.
I can't offer you my life, because it's yours any day you want it.
I can't offer you my soul, because its been yours for over a decade.
I can't offer you fear, because I find comfort in knowing you will be there at the end.
I can only offer you loyalty.
And return it to my family in kind.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 3:46 PM UTC
Muscles fatigued, grave diggers duties endure with war
Continuous seems never ending, a keeping of the score
Nation challenged and ripped in two
Who's child next for the red, white, and blue?
Memorial Day, forever remembered, forever we pray
For day no future soldier lie under, funeral bouquet
Can't we more civilly celebrate our diversity?
Instead, bury our grudges, our hatred, our absurdity?
Finding peace amongst brothers, is man simply ******
Please love one another, and shake each other's hand
For "In God We Trust," is not such a bad slogan
Yet, for "In Goodness We Trust," may also be chosen
They say over and over that, "History Repeats"
Seems this type of credo is humanity's ultimate defeat
So, why not take on a tenet of love?
Is not all this hatred, something we can rise above?
Reflex memory, what we do time again and again
Can be changed, if from hatred, we learn to abstain
So give it a try, learn to love your brother
And by chance, we may spare the tears of a mother
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
I was a boy.
As a boy/girl I don't need to fit
Your descriptions. I don't need to be
Published. I don't need a date to take
With me
To the dance.
I won't need to worry; Won't need to look
At you,
Won't need to be married
Civilly,
Or inside a church
Don't have to be elected. I can just dream
For my entire life
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 9:09 AM UTC
It has been said
truth should be shouted
from the tops of the mountains
Truth defined
a fact
or belief
accepted as true
What kind of definition is that
using truth to define truth
to me it is saying
truth is as we see it
So whose truth should that be
my truth
your truth
what truth should be shouted from the mountains
Truth that brings about battles
between neighbors
destroying civility
Truth that sends countries to war
leaving death and dismemberment
in its wake
Cannot our truth be told
civilly
respectfully
without words
that become infused with intolerance
of others and their beliefs
It's been a long time
the words are still the same
Can't we all just get along!
Or at least try
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC