"inordinately" poems
Here oh postmodern nihilist
the grave awaits
your death
wish:
Life
a
struggle
escape it
death
so tempting
grasp it
and take its era with you:
Keep it
away from our church's
our schools
our civics
and further culture.
Lo, the children
black as the hell they die in...
Its inordinately subjective unconsciousness;
confused emotionally with its ineptitude of reason.
Blaming its former God,
for their own doing.
Wanting to save that world upon themselves left behind from such a rejection.
Lest they live in a Christ so unjust.
As to not know all men equally,
but to judge them--in their distinction.
Creation
your natural law
emphasizes that which we do not want to come to terms with.
If only we could make us all inter-dependent biological beings of mechanization.
Chain me to genetic determinism and biochemical reactions foremost -- lest my soul affirms inequality:
Liberty exulted
by the risen Lord:
Supremacy/Autonomy
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
***Creatively enticing,
profoundly sensual
boundlessly experienced,
cryptically presumptive
inordinately exclusive
effusively lavished,
anesthetized or blatant
allusive beyond ethereal,
metaphorically inferred
criminal insanity
disquiet midst agitation,
peaceably surrendered
illustriously polished
or indubitably raw
fruitful to a fault - -
in reciprocity's glory be
quenches thirst,
satiates a hunger
flourished midst ink's
designed grandeur,
poetry never fails to thrive,
tripping the light fantastic
in its exuberant offering***
Seize the power
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC
My patience has been stretched inordinately thin,
My back bone has started to spear through my skin
and I will not snap it back in place
to make
you more comfortable.
I see through you
and your slimy, translucent, skin.
I promise I notice
every bit of effort you do not put in.
It sinks my heart into my stomach,
And every truth Ive been swallowing will be regurgitated and spit out before I am sick again.
My back feels like it's going to break from bending over all the cracks in your concrete,
While you step on mine,
Thinking you are somehow above me this way, but dear,
we all crack the same.
Just in different places, and at different paces.
And I have been running down only one ways
lately.
But these roads don't lead me any closer to you, they drive you away, and if you think i can run forever,
While you stay the same,
You are grievously
wrong.
I can only give so much.
And at the end of the day,
I will love the people who reciprocate that love back, and meet me halfway.
I will love you always,
but for a love that hurts more than it heals, I can not wait, and I will not stay.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
Downton Abbey’s going off the air.
I’m not through yet, it’s just not fair.
Nothing before that show ever had
That kind of class, that degree of flair.
Life without my weekly Downton
Is too sad and inordinately scary.
What will I do without my frequent fix
Of the elegantly snarky Lady Mary?
And will the feckless Mister Barrow
Ever develop a true human soul?
I am sure this handsome actor fellow
Will never again get such a meaty role.
And the Dowager Duchess herself,
She is not someone easily done with.
She is, after all, tradition incarnate,
And under all that, she’s Maggie Smith.
Bates and his Anna filled my heart
With alternating sorrow and great joy
Almost as much as a lady of nobility
Marrying the handsome chauffer boy.
Dresses and hair lengths shortened
And nobility began to get real jobs.
All this was before ****** flared up
And turned starving folks into a mob.
I never missed that we were seeing
The transition from ‘la belle epoque’.
That time was running out for that
In the worlds ever-changing clock.
It was a yesterday we never knew
We of the age of electric equality.
We got to look inside and see it
In all its grandly overdressed reality.
I had begun to recognize artwork, in
Lovely strolls through baronial halls
And huge family meals at table.
I am sorry that it is over for us all.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
"And he created out of one man every nation of men, to dwell upon the entire surface of the earth, and he decreed the appointed times and set limits of the dwelling of man." (Acts 17: 26) (New World Translation Study Edition)
When I look in the mirror, a doughty warrior, an oracle, an Olympian gazes back at me. The caramel-tinge of my skin tells of the colored pedigree from whence I came. Every ebony-tendril that bursts from my epidermis is as impregnable as the Sacred Lotus.
The history of my Mind's Sky has been tried by the Ancient African Sun of my ancestors. It is my hope, that I have passed the trials decreed by the ordinances of the Moon & Sun. Moreover, the Arbiter of Fates, Jah, dawns upon our fleshly vessel at each twilight, assaying our entities. (Isaiah 60: 19, 20) (New World Translation Study Edition)
So many intrepid souls have compassed me about. The Chalice of my Heart burgeons with esprit d' amour. The meaning of life is ne' er about intellect, is ne' er about achievement, is in part, about creativity; wholly, about Love. (John 13: 34, 35) (New World Translation Study Edition) For this reason, strength cascades upon me every moment as I witness the brilliance, the resilience of my beneficent matriarch, Stacy Amanda Foulke.
In life, I have learned that being a person of color in America is not only a wonderful privilege, but a responsibility. Why? The afflictions brought upon this skin only make it glisten brighter after convalescence. Our people have suffered inordinately so, but this is conducive to cultivating surpassing empathy. Therefore, I believe that history, as begotten through the colored legacy, shall be one of ultimate victory.
If and only if, we unfetter ourselves from the onerous burdens of the past, then Monarchical Wings shall burgeon from our Astral Chrysalis. "For though the tribulation is momentary and light, it works out for us a glory that is of more and more surpassing weight and is everlasting." (1st Corinthians 4: 17) (New World Translation Study Edition) Se' lah.
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 6:54 PM UTC
The temptation
to belly-flop
on a raked pile of leaves
long-awaited greetings
foreign
yet a familiar city
semi worn-out platform
it's oh so simple
ordinary
to know you
but it has made me
think back
on every autumn day
i contemplate
the happiness that extended
from nothing more than chance acquaintance
i want to hold
onto that sweet corner
of my mind
you came in fall
does it have to be a scene
of fading greenery
why do those red leaves look weirdly
teary
my disheveled state of mind at the present time
can't afford to be challenged or tested
though i love the autumn
recklessly
including its solemn austerity
mahogany melancholy
all in honor of the pretty lady
i met you
and inordinately liked you
in that old part of the school
you came my way
and it sure was
an autumn day.
Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 3:45 AM UTC
Picture yourself taking the first of many punches
Picture yourself blowing out a few birthday candles
Picture yourself watching a doorknob turn with wide-open eyes
Picture yourself clutching a pillow and weeping
Picture yourself watching a ewe with a broken leg being shot
Picture yourself being guided by old hands who've seen war.
Picture yourself perforating a decaf coffee can
Picture yourself in doubt and guilt
Picture yourself damning a missed chance
Picture yourself gesticulating wildly and arguing about a parking ticket
Picture yourself telling a friend that you love them, and not feeling weird about it.
Picture yourself sipping the greatest cup of coffee you'll ever have
Picture yourself hand-feeding a small animal
Picture yourself shakily trying to appear like you know what you're doing
Picture yourself naked under a full moon
Picture yourself lost in a new city and loving ever minute
Picture yourself walking into a room and hearing everyone drop dead silent
Picture yourself roasting a marshmallow
Picture yourself looking down at a horrible injury that doesn't hurt yet
Picture yourself carrying a heavy load up a staircase
Picture yourself in an empty echoing room
Picture yourself making ceviche
Picture yourself illuminated by the blue lights of a police cruiser
Picture yourself staying cool and detached in front of someone you want to rip the clothes off of and make love to, right that second.
Picture yourself startled by a loud noise
Picture yourself cleaning something inordinately
Picture yourself in a boat on a river....
Picture yourself finding something funny, then feeling bad about it
Picture yourself remaining calm when a step-parent judges your choices
Picture yourself with the trappings of a more successful person
Picture yourself, standing in your best clothes, two hours after graduating college, drinking cheap malt liquor, on the balcony of a cheap apartment, beside the best friend you'll ever know.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 4:14 AM UTC
Since the man was living the slam
lifestyle, he decided not to write
the slam poem. His daughter was
discussing the slam conversations.
She was a conversationalist. The
man considered himself to be her
slam father. It was all right to be
careful and not get slammed for
work that was inordinately spontaneous.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
***Monday, November 11th, 2019
The pain in loss can be a deleterious scourge, undoing all the threads of light embedded in the heart. Who am I to contend with the ethereal tides of the cosmos? A juvenescent soul enrapt mine entity for but a moment, yet, soon thereafter, he was gone. Vanquished by the Winds of Undoing, he may never re-alight upon my soulscape; however, I must go on. Let dreams illumine the fulgent irides you are starry-eyed to see.
I must trust that all things are working out for their highest good. In me are all the answers that I seek; we are our own nexus to transcendence. Will I ever see him again? I am without certainty, but I shall arise triumphantly. Tears may yearn to cascade my countenance, but I will waxeth impregnable apropos of the deluge of sadness.
Who am I? I am the emblematization, the insignia of love. Christ truly abides within each one of us. If I am to truly attain my Apex Monumental, I must undergo tremendous sufferings; therefore, ne’er fathom that suffering is thine undoing, ―tis your making.
Press onward valiant warrior, love shall open every doorway. One day, thine Ultima Thule shall manifest itself before your eyes; moreover, the patriarch you never had shall be found in the Arbiter of Fates above. Never give up young one, for you are aeonically loved. Wisdom, Love, Justice, Power and all the virtues vested in this cosmos shall teem within thine vessel.
Sanctity is perhaps a notion, a theistic & ratiocinatively deific dogma. I fathom it an inordinately exclusive fallacy that maketh one feel holier than his brethren. Was any man or woman foreordained above any other? And if so, were they given not a privilege, but a duty? An anointing means one is set apart for a higher purpose, not a lionizing gasconade.
“He who dares to teach must never cease to learn.” It is true that the erudite has immense gift, but they likewise carry profundity of mandated travail. In each one of us, lie the answers we seek; therefore, we must introspect & retrospect in order to circumspect. We must search and seek, in order to find. Let the one who knocketh, have it revealed unto them, have it opened.
∞(Se’ Lah)∞
Excelsior Forevermore,
Sanders Maurice Foulke III**
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 6:43 PM UTC
I don't want to leave this moment.
This dream,
Is both inordinately beautiful,
and unforgivingly painful at the same time.
Dancing with an angel,
So tantalizing.
But when I realize it isn't real,
It hurts far more than it has any right to do...
I want more.
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC
I love you.
it hurts, and I love you anyway.
somehow, I loved you before I knew you.
you are my poison, and you are my antidote.
I love you inordinately, irrevocably, impossibly.
Sep 6, 2023
Sep 6, 2023 at 10:38 AM UTC
Who am i
I am a mote of sand
Shifting through
The winding dunes
Of time
I am a scratched leaf
Swaying under the
Whims of wind
Through the vast
Unending brows
Of forests
In this planet
I am a tiny
Drop of rain
Melding with the
Arterial waterways
Thus
I am an infinitesimal
Speck of life
Amid the infinite circle
Of an inordinately
diverse life
But how am i
I am alive
I can breathe
I can percieve
By myself
Independently
And this is the
Sole reason
Why i should aim
To be contented
With how
I exist
Isn't it
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 7:24 AM UTC
In and out of thriving and chance into the heart's light I took a glance
And above the blood that drips from the sword there is a place to make amends
First we self-reflect and see the prospect of inspecting all that has left us infected
And the wisdom is that we were ignorant as we deflected what's best in us
So every minute begins to carry so much weight
And so we seek to get to the best of our potential
So we find some meaning and purpose and we're not existential
From effectiveness we reach a level of being positively influential
And that's when we stop competing and start completing our Earth assignments
We always fall back in time when we break the promises we have made to ourselves
So for everyone who has beared with you and endured your imperfections, forgiven your mistakes
Be thankful for Grace
I am thankful for the opportunity to be poetic
Whether I have been eccentric or inordinately enigmatic
Thanks for listening and thanks for reading
For everyone who has been patient to understand the overall cosmic vision
Thanks for harmony, thanks for Grace
And for finally giving an ear to where and when I have been speaking
As souls awake. Let there be love and so Divine beings can return to their divine nature. Let grace be the spirit and love the heartbeat... More than words can say, thank you (consciousness) for the day. We are a race.
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 1:59 PM UTC
i can fool anyone...
but not you.
your love stands
alone...for a smattering
of hate.
confusedly so, unto them
you gem.
glass houses rework stones
to perfection.
reflections shatter inordinately
to the mind.
you're so meticulous.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
i woke the bear.
‘ i am inordinately tired now, and you have been away all night. that is not an accusation ,it is an observation.’
yes. is there anything i can do?
‘yes, let me sleep a long time. i wish to be private a while.
yes. yet this is not the season for hibernation.
‘no, i do not follow the rules, nor crowds, my way is different. i shall still talk to you
in your head, so you will not miss me’
thank you, i know.
the sun came out.
sbm.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
On seeing the Hawkin news some hours ago: Be the first to read/react to my reaction. Not about jazz, not about yoga, but about recognition.
Outside Time: Hawkin March 14, 2018
No obit this,
But chance to memorize, memorialize,
Tattoo the size of genius,
How it comes to earth in time
Then goes god-only-knows how/where –
Knowing only: not ****** here.
Yet ‘there’, by definition place,
Perhaps is space;
Maybe a ‘where somewhere’ in space -
A guess both uniformed and obvious.
Mister Hawkin, master Hawkin
Freed from chair and ALS,
Cells and intellect’s fine processes;
Mammoth efforts of all kinds
To feed the body,
Read the mind(s)
Of universes.
To record this day inordinately mixed
With sadness, pride, heroics -
That a man second to none
Has been an Einstein all his own;
Whose works we’ll clone (to yet go farther)
For ‘by works you shall be known.’’
God blessed the non-believer Hawkin.
Outside Time 3.14.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Revelations Big & Small; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Corwin
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC