"inscrutably" poems
Too long this rot has run its course, too much the damage done
When men deflect acknowledged glance, they know that wrong has won.
Across this land and far afield the wrongness seeps within
And pride becomes a memory through distant halls of spin.
How can we bow to tyranny, how can we shy away
From that which causes eyes to slide.... and coaxes will to sway?
To tolerate the bombast, the bullying, the lies
Succumbing to a hopelessness, which, both we despise.
Division in the nation, uproar in between
A man and wife’s contention-ness beyond what should be seen
Brothers loathing brothers, silence in the room
Where a word uttered wrongly can erupt to screaming soon.
Allies left in tatters, trust is cut to shards
Tariffs injudiciously, imposed to **** the cards.
International uproar, industry in strife
Teetering disastrously when NATO flees the knife.
Putin sits and rubs his hands, hilarious the show
Disorder and disharmony to lubricate his glow.
Beijing sits inscrutably, always opportune
Manoeuvring judiciously, in place, to call the tune.
America, the isolate, sails away to sea
Blondini, at the helm, wears smirk indulgently.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON NZ
12th July 2018
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
It's unfortunate that Parisians
Are very hard to bear,
In terms of flash obsequiousity,
They drive me to despair!
And patience is an attribute
I don't profess to have
To mercifully administer
When accents veer to Slav.
Baltics look like jellyfish,
The Germans are obscene
And loud and overbearing
But the Swiss are very clean.
Italians are a swarthy lot
Who gourmandize on food
And sacrifice their suavity
By being impudently crude.
The Spanish are no better,
In fact they are probably worse,
For obsessing in the blood sports
I actually rate them in reverse.
Starchiness is British
They're convoluted to the core,
The Old Boy system's lost it's sheen
Aspirants flock to it no more.
The Yanks are looking slightly crass
Whilst fighting foreign wars,
Their pinky held up squeaky clean
To call "foul" to China's flaws.
China sits inscrutably
Holding all the cards
Waiting for the moment
To strike beneath the guards.
India and Pakistan
Are squabbling like kids
The uproar over Kashmir
Rates them lower than the Yids.
The Yids are walking tightropes
With Iran's nuclear ******
Whilst currying Yank approval,
Eventual bombing is a must.
The Dutch behave so anally
They're always proven right
When faced with rigid negatives
They blanch with haunches tight.
But not the Argentineans
They love to dance and flirt,
To chase the senorita
Cavorting in the scarlet skirt.
The South Pacific's wallowing
They're adrift from World affairs
Oz's self preoccupation
Mirrors Kiwi's vacant stares.
Africa's way past comment
Lost to heat and dust,
Warfare, **** and pillage
And the rest decayed by rust.
Eskimos are OK
Clean living on the ice
The population static,
Zer-O pollution's nice!
Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
14 April 2009
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 12:08 AM UTC
The sky was ablaze like glass in the church;
recumbent on stone floors / we had knocked out
the windows to let in only the blind light,
the blind arches that pointed heavenward, now yawning
narcoleptic houses of God grasping at sky and god
somehow / we captured daylight in our hands / we were
yearning for ourselves again between long hours of waiting
we believed in gods that breathed that great sky, we believed
in the breadth of cosmos more dazzling
than the church doors that we blew asunder
in that latter architecture where we decided the height
& breadth of the pillars in their proportions like
the proportions of man, exhausted & exaggerated,
man exalted, exaudi, exaudi, voca meam quam olim Abrahim
praises to all our lords on high, we sang in drunk
communion hailing, our communion with one another,
all of us there on the stone flags, hands in hands
we beat at the chests of each other, the eyes of each other
(we were just kids beating off to one thing or another)
and it was *** and chaos between those stone walls, it captured
us, bewildered us, those yawning heavens under the church ceiling,
the one that blazed with the dazzling color of windows
covered in dust like our skin the way it crept along the stone
and we craved it and the way that it seemed to creep,
the sky seemed to creep above us, seethed with light
some days we didn’t know which way was light, up
or lower down, it was usually easy to tell after you came
but we exhausted our voices, exaudi exaudi orationem meam
believing that something would hear us—we heard ourselves
more clearly in the throes of ****** nothing was more alive
more human, than anything, than anything that sang like that blazing
sky/ so we tossed ourselves forward into lightward, lightness
dazzling ourselves with light / it was the summer of everything closing /
the bewildering truth of our own god in cells and precious molecules
we made god in the throes of ****** worshipping in the dazzling sky
we had to propel ourselves forward, it was our stunning captivation
with that dazzling maze of flesh on the yearning sky, hands
searching inscrutably for hands, for god in the feverish sky, god
who doesn’t live in the sky, the god who climbs
with us, the god who screams in our ****** with us,
exaudi, exaudi, orationem meam, ad te omnes caro veniet…
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
I have grown to love this island that ships
pass in the distance so that clouds
and their sails are obscured. Whatever winds
compel the ships are laden with ropes.
The island is inscrutably free of vegetation.
My vision unhindered extends beyond Asia.
Animals I cannot describe cannot be said to prowl;
rather they perform a pavanne on the strand like a carousel.
I have received letters expressing remorse
from acquaintances who rue my isolation;
but there is a bird long thought extinct that soars
above the island and its songs are my inspiration.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
Love.
Love is.
Evermore.
Love is always.
Undeniably,
Indefatigably,
Indescribably,
Insatiably,
Forever.
Always.
Is.
Love.
Love lasts.
Tirelessly.
Love is always.
Unconquerably,
Indeterminately,
Imperviously,
Inscrutably,
Immortal.
Always.
Lasts.
Love.
Love lives.
Timelessly.
Love is always.
Interminably,
Interconnectedly,
Independently,
Incredibly,
Infinite.
Always.
Lives.
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
I install myself in between the cushioned seats
Absorbed by the spectacle: a smile splashed across your face as you emerge from the door and through the corridors
Towards me.
The stress that once loomed over me like clouds
Sailed south as you entered right into my periphery
Like how the magnatic mountains stole my breathing capabilities
So did you in a second
I want you to experience the beauty of what is to come
You say loftily,
Inscrutably.
And we traveresed the living room
Out the door
Over the cobblestones
OnTo the stooping hills
Suddenly
We were enshrouded in the mysterious white mist
With white capped waves crashing nearby
Enjoying the serene peace and quiet.
It seemed a little too good to be true.
Showing off that smug look
You quickly fill the empty spaces betwixt my fingers
With a thrill coursing in your blood into mines.
And there we were floating to the top of the world.
Unstoppable.
Immortal.
Untouchable.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
This ragamuffin schleps with leaden gait
weighted down like Atlas of yore
like that Greek titan upon massive shoulders
the worldly wide web he wore
if a corporeal being incarnate,
would be friended on social networks fig ure
especially mythological creations exiled,
reviled and sent to river elba shore
the lowest watermark of Napoleon,
and one exemplifying the je nais say quor
my life and hard times as if concocted
from mind of Charles Dickens or
another deft writer with an abysmally dim,
groveling vagabond less o more
who experienced rejection
at every turn muttering to join canine korps
wonder why in this tar nation,
he got saddled with prestigious title of warrior
truth be told suffered psychological
stress disorders at veep fog hatted
Alberts’ epistemological environmental
global germinal garrulousness galore,
whose hoped friendship glued, clinched,
billed as storied AA Milne’s eyore
whose jarring inscrutably heavy
glum footsteps exerted downtrodden chore
impressing mental state with angst,
whence Hades and river Styx did allure!
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 9:00 PM UTC
Kaleidoscopic Whorled Wide Web.
Against light source well crafted
tubular structure appended with eyepiece gazing
offers viewer eye-opening, mind boggling
instantaneously birthing then vanishing
resplendent myriad colorful geometric
awesome shifting shapes hypnotizing
sight seer into a whirling ******
where multifaceted fractals display pin-wheeling
arithmetically perfect triangulate squarely
with proportionate arcs astounding
with blind faith on microscopic scale
analogous to cosmic big bang spell-binding
mankind from time immemorial when
her/his gaze turned heavenward peering
into the azure vault – one macrocosmic
hint per the origin from when on-looking
proto-humans ruminated inscrutably
enamored at the spectacular eminence grise
forever holding mystery of
universe evolution in shrouded secret
continually mystifying one generation
after another until twenty first century astro-physicists
begin unravel evolutionary tale
writ small on planet earth yet storied tome
pried open from scientific revolutions
enabling birth of cosmos honed with more
fine tuned precision to zero in
on precise second whence explosion filled void
with nebulous material coalescing
into rudimentary galactic masses generating
vast surfeit of globular structures evincing
conically swirling
millennially futuristic clear cut entities
upon which one – namely gaia
finds this sole member **** sapiens
reveling in his makeshift primitive contrivance
teasing ocular sense with visual *******
begetting thought provoking questions
into this eternal wonderment
that perchance some intelligent deity
willfully rotates planet like some plaything
synonymous with mere mortal peering
into magic of kaleidoscope!
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
It Has Been A Lifetime Of…
It has been a lifetime of, well, meditation:
Meditation/prayer, prayer weaker
(more appeal and supplication
Than an offering without a question).
Not really lifetime, I admit, but,
Years and years of seeking It,
Approaching It, trying to find, bind Arlene
With hope that she’ll become more than a hopeless dope;
Hope and that arcane, otherworldly word
That rhymes with earth and mirth and forth and wraith:
“What can it be?”(said she inscrutably).
Of course, it’s faith!
The hardest of the hard.
(Don’t let them kid you what they say they’ve got it)
Faith both gift and hard, hard practice.
Owning, losing day to day.
It’s been a lifetime – that’s for sure.
But life continues now to now:
Day to day, year to year
And meditation and the prayer
(Each in its place) continue too.
The real me
Still uncompleted
As of our poetic meet
This very heartbeat.
It’s Been A Lifetime Of…7.13.2017
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Pure Nakedness;
Arlene Corwin
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 3:23 PM UTC
this ragamuffin schleps with a leaden gait weighted down like Atlas of yore
like that Greek titan upon massive shoulders the worldly wide web he wore
if a corporeal being incarnate, would be friended on social networks fig ure
especially mythological creations exiled, reviled and sent to river elba shore
the lowest watermark of napoleon and one exemplifying the je nais say quor
my life and hard times as if concocted from thee mind of Charles Dickens or
another deft writer with an abysmally dim, groveling vagabond less o more
who experienced rejection at every turn muttering to join the canine korps
wonder why in this tar nation he got saddled with prestigious title of war ior
truth be told suffered psychological stress disorders at veep fat alberts’ gore
whose hoped for friendship glued, clinched, billed as storied AA Milne’s eyore
whose jarring inscrutably heavy glum footsteps exerted downtrodden chore
impressing mental state with angst, whence Hades and river Styx did allure!
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:54 AM UTC