Pure Poetry
As the Rubik is twisted yet again and again
Circumstance will change with the passage of time
The hand currently held need not remain in the future
It just takes a willingness to tweak or redefine
Creative blocks don't feel so great
Grating? Yeah, they even agitate
Agitation arising from the limbo state
Stating such serves to ameliorate
Amelioration? Hopefully now I'll create
Passing through a scanner of the TSA, I was nabbed for a container of aerosol spray.
It wasn't a matter of attempted circumvention, or an act of malice that warranted detention.
It's simply that I packed a dittie in a rush - which resulted in it's seizure and my face full of flush.
Here and there people Tweet, mobile data’s really neat - read, reply and then delete
We are textestrians!
Dining with friends I do adore. Yikes, the conversation’s a bore. Humm, what’s up beyond the door?
We are textestrians :)
To the mall with PDA near, when wielded in front it becomes a spear and away from us others must veer
We are textestrians
Immediacy is a continuous need, “Can’t wait, right now," that’s the creed. Rapid blather, heed and bleed ...
We are textestrians?
It’s so easy to pontificate, share some news or foment some hate. No eye contact - isn’t it great ?!?
We are textestrians :(
Addiction to the broadcast word, senders being barely heard above the din of the digital herd
We are textestrians
At the movies or with a book, fighting the urge to take a look at devices placed “off the hook”
We are textestrians?
Escape and make some quality time - nod to a neighbor, follow a vine. Yes, the physical world’s sublime
We are textestrians?
Watch the birds and the bees, look around, savor Thee, and be fully present non-digitally
No longer textestrians, we can be free
Consciousness slowly washes over my soul as I awaken from the depths of an afternoon dream
A slow floating sensation with which I roll, circular yet unhurried like carefully whipped cream
The sublime reluctantly relinquishes its grasp, as the world steadfastly makes its presence known
I don't have a choice as to where I am going, but the pace of reawakening can be my own
The world beckons my reentry, so alive with sights and sounds in their perpetual show
Still, the realm that I'm leaving is so full of wonder that it's a destination to which I again yearn to go
Comfortably uncomfortable yet in the zone
Striving for something outside the dome
Intentions are set and thus they guide
The course is clear when fear's set aside
Reaching far yet so centered by you
My mind's wide open and my heart is true
Traffic is ripping from the left and the right while a man hoofs it to work in the dawn's early light
With not enough money to buy a ride to the job, the man walks the highway, shod in the worn clothes of a slob
He must deftly dodge across double lanes - this causes startled observers to think "Man, that's insane"
Counting his blessings that he's made it safely so far, he shakes loose a smoke for some nicotine laced tar
For a while he's marooned on the thin median strip, so he savors some drags from a butt between his lips
Then ponders what has become the lot of his life - "Have I ever known solace, or just struggle and strife?"
With a smoky euphoria now teasing his brain, he has taken to an expression that might just explain
"Pick your poison," the man, after each ignition, will say, "The end will come - but hopefully not today."
Shadows sliding side by side
Flying forward via human stride
Beings manifested by a rising sun
Obstructed rays during a morning run
Breaths bring oxygen to human hearts
Shadows summarize their body parts
After tucking a tail between one's legs, it's time to face the inevitable chagrin
"Isn't avoidance possible?" the ego begs, "It's so crushing when I don't win"
Alas, a faux pas placed upon a peg starts the passage towards forgiveness of sin
Reconciliation can segue from earnest apology, but never from perpetuated spin
Censorship grows quickly old, "Watch your thoughts - do as your told."
Doesn't it matter how one might feel when earnest expression is brought to heel?
Ultimately an oppressor is the greater fool for tearing to shreds the Golden Rule.
Intermittent wipers are a mechanical delight as they cleanse a zone of critical sight.
Faithfully scraping splotches from the sky in a periodic pulse playing out before my eyes.
Bladed arms arching, pass after pass, in a measured tempo while gliding across glass.
Each blissful pause serving to partially abate the chances of entry into hypnotic state.
The essence of an issue is what matters
Some basic principles that form a core
A premise lays the initial foundation
From which success may ultimately soar
An outline maps the path to progress
Charting key actions along the way
Milestones mark completion of steps
Performance celebrated on important days
Preparation can be a most tiresome bore
Filled with repetition and effort unseen
But then onstage, the effort will look easy
And watchers will shine an appreciative sheen
An October evening, crisp is the air
The blowing wind toys with my hair
The pizza pickup is a short walk away
Take-out's the call after a busy day
Two personal pies - one gluten free
For Sunday night football is soon on TV
We'll be ready and set to bring our cheer
With slices and drinks, to the couch we'll steer
Our team needs a win, that's for sure
Oh pleeease don't let our offense be a bore
Around the corner, around the bend
An unknown future winds and wends
Today, tomorrow, and next month too
It doesn't matter the point of view
The present appears one second at a time
Accept what is now, it can be sublime
Our coffee machine goes drip drip
We're anxiously awaiting some sips
The aroma is so fine
The flavor will be divine
But for now we must purse our lips
The buzzer finally sings “Beep beep”
The hot water has finished its seep
Reaching up for a mug
Wanting a handle to tug
But the cabinet is bare ..."Oh bleep"
And the dishwasher we forgot to run
The mugs stashed inside are undone
Time to wet down a sponge
To cleanse the old grunge
Yes, this battle for java will be won
The carafe into mugs we now pour
Then some milk from the ice box door
The aroma is so fine
The taste - just divine
Ahhh, this moment we can now adore
Some Western thinkers of philosophy gathered and dreamt of a party. This collaboration caused a few to rue - with the shopping becoming a divisive to-do:
- Diderot crisply criticized the show
- Copernicus spun about the fuss
- Einstein theorized relative wines
- Nietzsche transcended the pleas
- Cicero called for a vote to go
- Pythagoras rightly angled the bus
- Calvin reformed the flock's way in
- Newton would not stop his run
- Descartes triangulated the carts
- Aristotle perceived the bottles
- Marx uttered unfairness barks
- Augustine? It was a sinful scene
- Socrates showed his ethical IDs
- Plato reasoned out their dough
- Locke tried hard to liberalize
- Sartre still had no change of heart
In the end the libations did flow, the participants relaxed and their wisdom showed through. Thoughts were shared collectively in this fabled philosopher fantasy.
An Irish Spring is fragrantly nice
Ivory shares the same color as rice
Dial a Dove to heal some strife
No matter what have a Zest for life
The do-loop is eternally spun
Early dawn to setting sun
Does it end, did it really start?
An answer lies in my beating heart
A catch 22, one first thinks
Then lifetimes joined by many links
Pay it forward
Extend a hand
Asked for cash
Reply "understand"
Different background
Different face
Doesn't matter
We're human race
No expectation
Wasn't a gift
Invest in faith
Give a lift
Pebbles cast upon a pond
Ripples reaching well beyond
Perfection in their early state
Diffusion as they propagate
The route home is almost always the same
Plodding along with the help of his cane
Past the shop windows displaying their wares
Being invisible thus impervious to stares
Pushing along through the evening hubbub
He feels quite alone due to societal snubs
Envious of diners in their outdoor cafés
Swaddled in toney clothes and diamond displays
He pauses by a flower box bordering a table
And plucks off a sprig, just because he is able
He carefully crushes it between thumb and palm
And slowly saviors it's sweet smelling balm
"This is my little treat," to himself he thinks
Then gives two observers two furtive little winks
Somebody's actually noticed his face
So he feels a connection with the human race
Turning his attention to the sidewalk ahead
Its time to press on to get home to bed
Safety systems
Conduct codes
Defined decency
Legislated load
Approved affiliation
Mandated means
Qualified quorums
Esoteric esteem
Dentist chair arouses my despair
Temporary crown is breaking down
Hot and cold, sensations too bold
Novocain will numb the pain
Needle at noon can't come too soon
Permanent fix - recovery by six?
Enunciation + iteration = evocatively expressive sequences of summation