Our posedly “Christian” nation pays far more attention to profits than prophets.
Jesus Sends His Disregards
The hungry
The homeless
The sick
The stranger in our land
The prisoner
I met Jesus
He sends his disregards
Whatever
You have
Done with these
Some solitary people discover that being, invisible to others, can be a superpower.
The Hermit
The hermit lives
In awe kinds
Of whether
Full of grays alone
Clear to the heavens
Son of the fodder
Of vague rumors and unseemly gossip
Maps without legends
And then some
Many wonderings
Of weather living
In a backwoods shack
In a small house on the edge of town
In a grungy apartment in the city
In a cave atop a mountain
Awe the same
And yet holy deferent
Water is life. Water typically flows freely, but when polar-ized conditions set in, water can crack even the most Sisyphean stone eventually to dust.
Walls Crack Me Up
The wall face
Gives weigh to cracks
From which water flows
The mortar of life
From which mountains return to
That vast see
From which awe
Dust arise
The dark psyche of America has risen its ugly ahead. May we awe be living in disinfecting sunshine.
The Dark Aside
Welcome to the dark aside
Shrouding starry infernos by night
And anything of substance casting
Shadow by day
And peerless timing
At high noon
Where the shadow
Is at the bottom of our soles
Its revealing feat
Weather epic or mundane
Too tend to the deference between
Cool respite or infernal shadiness
The beguiling plays of obscure figuring
Teeming with inclinations
Known by many angles
Meting the worst of awe
I’m morality
Casting aside
Awe others
I am gratefully ungovernable. I am sorry if I don’t have any bargaining chips; I am playing a different game, a beautiful game.
Captivated by Awe Kinds of Gracious Arts
He was not a man of means
He was captivated by awe kinds
Of gracious arts
Unearth as in heaven
Such feat firmly grounded
With real eyes
The prize of freedom
And the accost the whirled commands
A global citizen of good will
A testament to solid-heir-ity
A constant neighbor
To the pour of spirit
A friend to awe human kind
As well
As just
Critters in the forest
His footprint a gentle sole upon this earth
Resistance is a vocation.
Fool Time Job
Keeping my humanity
Is a fool time job
As the wise guise
Run with the mob
And the boss is always right
Far right
Preternatural pros and cons
If you get the grift
Posed rebels
Yes-men in the no
Under stand
It’s all a bout
Power, loot, and sects
Dominating every dough minion
And what is left?
Jōb creators for the wrest of US
The berth of a nation
And unlimited vocation time
For the peacemakers
And just
Resisters
Holy employed
Bringing to bare
That sanity clause
Having too due
With the sack religious
When the resistance meets the meat grinder…
Meet Grinder
What is a free man
Too due
In efface of injustice
As the unstoppable
Metes an immovable farce
Beating that conundrum
Surpassing awe
That we ever new
Every faux vanquished
As truth brandished
Neither an algorithm nor a numb-er
Neither a cog nor mirrorly a tool
And if a wrench
Soully as a creative force
More meet than grinder
Shouldering response ability
Letting the chips fall
Wear they may
Where Do I Find Myself?
Wear due
I fine
My self
A good heart he laugh
Laughter is good medicine, good for heart and soul. I find the light-heartedness of humor the touchstone of my soul. Years ago, I took part in a grieving exercise where we were asked to list the most important things our lives, then cross them off one by one. The last two things on my list were my family and my sense of humor. Sorry, family, you lossed out to my sense of humor. The way I see it is that without a sense of humor, what’s the point? The point: light, heartedness.
Not surprisingly, if a frog falls into hot water, it will jump out. Perhaps surprisingly, if a frog is in water that is slowly heated, it will not jump out even if it is boiled. As a nation, we are in hot water. May we take a flying leap out of this damnable jacuzzi before it is too late.
Leap Frog
Wee are like frogs
Quite jumpy
In dammed hot water
As a flee for all
And still
As cold-blooded creatures
With come odious adapt ability
We can per severe
In chill conditions
As cool as can be
Employing our reptilian brains
And such webbed feat
Abiding well
As razing temp
Executing
Prefect repose
Be lated
As he scald
To that unnoticed boiling point
An incremental lack of change
Ultimately
Still
Kicking
The buck it
An unsound conundrum
As we formally move into the oligarchic era, my lifetime project of valuing humanity over money continues…
Razing Money
My whole life
Has been
Trying
To raze money
For humanity
On this MLK Day, I am reminded of his “mountaintop” speech delivered the night before he was assassinated. I used this “mountaintop” reference in my poem, BUCKET BRIGADE – Owed to Karen Krause, written for a friend who died in 2013. Here is an excerpt:
For what death cannot touch
We have firmly held
The mountaintop
In portions made human
Sizing us up
Long the weigh
Only making us stronger
Martin Luther King, Jr. referenced difficult times ahead, and 56 years later this reality persists, within the long, multi-generational struggles for peace and justice. May each of us incarnate the good fight. “Never, never be afraid to do what’s right. Society’s punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way” — Martin Luther King, Jr.
I have no need to wait for tomorrow’s bloviation.
Inaugural Be Rating
A tyrant who rhymes with orange
As a bully pulp it
A caca phony
Of coinages
And doing his deed
The highest doody
In the king dumb
Bye a baptism of you’re fired
The guise we can
Ad mire
Threw the mud
A nation drug
Buy the highest oaf in the land
Some may see God as unnecessary in their search for meaning. I like my spirituality Allah mode.
Allah Mode
There is plenty
Of human kind
That lives without
God of any owed understanding
I AM
Never the less
Still
Quiet covet us
Of God desserted
That as other wise known
Allah mode
NOTE: I think that this the first poem of mine involving an Arabic/French language pun. Fortunately, these references are common enough in the English language that most readers should get it.
This poem is based on a Zen story where a conquering general sweeps through towns, and people, like a sword through water. The general eventually comes upon a soul monk practicing a meditative prayer. The general announces himself, “Do you not know that I am the warrior who will run a sword through you without blinking an eye?” The monk answers the question by announcing himself, “Do you not know that I am the monk who can be run through with a sword without blinking an eye?” In the original story, the general throws down his sword and begs the monk to take him on as his disciple. The poem has a more open ending.
General Li Wong
A warrior
Of ultimate rank
Thinking to hi heaven
Conquered village after village
Like a sword
Running through water
Life scattering
Like only blood kin due
Until won fateful our
He showed up
At the peek
Of his kingly ambition
And every corporeal aspiration
A loan temple
A soul monk
Exorcising a breath preyer
Bringing a bout
These ordained udderings
Due you no who I am?!
I am the ruler
That will
Run my sword
Through you
Like water
Without blinking an eye
To which he was presented
A stair beyond belief
That most inviting peer
I am ruled by no won
Can you know who I am
Who can have a sword
Run through him
Without blinking an I
And what can lonely be learned
By a thousand villages razed
A cryptic seeing
A dooring pupil
That in is capable
Disciple to be
Of a terminal preyer
A poem honoring the fact that Mother Earth is the source of our wealth.
Rooting for Success
You may have herd
Financial advisors claim
Diversification is the key
To long term success
If only
The planet could add
This to its bio
Biodiversification
A true growth strategy
Whatever your life is, may it be times cherished, that is, X cherished, multiplying awe that is good.
Times Cherished
Once in a wile, I talk the talk
Every sow often, I walk the walk
Not with standing
The times I cherish most
I run
Heart long into the loving
Alms of the universe
The sores of being
Brought to heal
Here is a poem about a life full of flocking phoenixes. I wrote this a while back, but it is eerily apropos, and perhaps hopeful, considering the inferno devastating Los Angeles. May mutual aid win the daze ahead.
Burned
I had
A peek experience
Of what
Behind me
Sow many undertakings
Bridges burnt
Deeds smoked
Eyes watering
Blind to what is
Ahead
The future
Is courted by my many peeps
Phoenixes
As we be flocked
Libertarianism can be self-limiting in many weighs…
Libertarian High Weighs
My way or the highway
Except the highway
We don’t do public works projects
Reality gives feedback. If we humans find ourselves stubbornly living outside natural limits, Mother Earth is obliged to complete our will.
Obliged
Mother Earth obliges
The will
Of the human race
Allowing us
To finish
First
A cross
The finish line
As I have moved into retirement, I noticed on my facebook profile that my “employment” was outmoded. So, I have created a new busyness: Mystic Ink 2.0 (to point: oh!). As a little background, in 2011, I decided to write poetry as an intentional vocation and serendipitous vacation. This emerged as an extension of my business, TopPun.com — Maximizing Prophets, which itself originated from my realization that I am the best punster for peace and justice in the English-speaking world. Sow, I have adopted a new “employer” for Top Pun: Mystic Ink 2.0 (to point: oh!). Here is a poem to launch this soul vocation:
Mystic Ink 2.0 (to point: oh!)
Who am I?
Prints
Without papers
What am I
Maid of
100% recycled electrons
Peering as sum kind
Of wholly goest
From hear to there
Wear awe
Is well
Or a fart in the win
Inspiring
Ass can be
Soully employed
Mystic ink
My mark it
Welcome to the free verse
Worth every pen he
NOTE: facebook, a posed king of the virtual world, rejected four characters in my “business” title. I would have settled for them rejecting this singular character. Quiet fitting!
