August 2017 Poems – 31 Daze: “Combo Poem”

Poem 31, and done!

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all that have contributed to my month-long project of writing poems. Whether it was in offering a word of inspiration to seed a poem, in visiting my website to view a post, or in commenting and sharing the work I’ve created; I appreciate your patience, consideration, and encouragement. This has been a huge personal success and has allowed me to generate strong momentum for other projects that are in my harbor at present. This is an important year for me academically, as I embark upon my Master’s Thesis in Literature and Creative Writing. I’ll be a busy hobbit, but will surely use my blog as a measure for procrastination.

I shamelessly ask for your continued support of my blog, and look forward to offering you fresh content and a slightly different perspective on things. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

*The poem below is composed of  the 30 words or phrases (all bolded and italicized) that were used as poem titles for the past month. It is a bit of a stretch in some places, but I hope you’ll forgive my indulgences. As I have mentioned before, although I had 30 disparate ideas suggested for this project, we all seemed to keep coming back to our current society and world events as impacted by the election of the 45th President of the United States. Regardless of your political affiliation, I think we can all agree that we are in a very auspicious period of American History, and that there has been a huge shift in how many people view the world. I think it important that we all try to give voice to our experiences as we navigate these events and remember to be kind to each other. At the end of the day, we are all human and can only benefit from the grace provided by the tolerance and patience required of striving for a better world together.

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http://payload52.cargocollective.com/1/7/237081/3357495/jessica_jass_5_900.jpg

 

 

*August 2017 Poems-31 Daze: “Combo Poem”

 

We are a newly dissident archipelago, adrift on an unknown sea.

The days of cotton candy, ice cream, and sharing are gone.

We’re being force-fed a slippery meal.

Sunshine, perpetually blown up our moist bungee bungs.

We’re being had, by the greatest flim-flam artist of modern times.

The current POTUS is a malevolent behemoth.

His administration is a circuitous circus,

a failed foofaraw.

A cabal of caustic craftsman lacking compassion.

A cattywumpus of calloused care and constant commiseration.

A disheartening Donnybrook of daily disillusioned despotism.

Desiccating durable desert roses,

daring to believe that they can MAGA.

False!

The greatness of our grand experiment resides in the imagination of intelligent people who work hard to sustain fairness, and strive for a better and more perfect union.

The serendipity sought can only come when there is equality for all.

Someone suggested Universal Basic Income in the U.S.

Perhaps, it is more than that?

Bravery and valour are soul mates in the scheme of resistance.

Liberty, is an unrequited love.

It must be paid for, with blood and life,

in the friscalating light of the dawn of a new age.

No one knows better than me.

Because a moron that professes that he is the GOAT,

is not a paper tiger, but an orange buffoon,

that will harm, hurt, and handicap us all.

Grabbing pussy,

and wondering when are we gonna get to some under the shirt stuff?”

drives this black hole.

Self-aggrandizing.

Egotistical narcissism.

The end is near…sometimes,

but perhaps that is how America is made great again,

Rising from the ashes of its hubris after hitting rock bottom.

I offer you out!

Think critically, with empathy and compassion.

Winning freedom is easier than sustaining it.

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“The End is Near Sometimes”

Poem 23 exists as a therapeutic exercise. Thank you to JEB, up in NH. Your suggested phrase helped me to revisit some emotion.

 

“Suffer Buffer” hpcimedia.com/images/website/DIR_34/F_29603.jpg

 

 

“The End is Near Sometimes”

 

Sometimes on Summer Sundays,

people pass out of this world.

 

Elemental souls leaving behind dead meat.

Honorable hardworking hearts,

hiccup and then stop.

Permanently.

 

There is a specific room in the emergency wards of most hospitals.

A grief room.

The horror show.

Some call it the suffer buffer.

An administrative attempt at compassion.

Staged grief.

It is preferred that you “act out” in there.

Please!

We don’t want the others to think someone is dying nearby.

Only sanitized grief is allowed.

Dignity displayed in disposable units.

Shuffled inside, while they cobble their strategy.

The content is similar,

the names are changed.

Tissue boxes that don’t look like they hold hardly enough.

The door opens.

Please…this way.

The chaos dizzies.

When you arrive at the spot that you are designated to stand,

gravity holds you there.

So many things to see.

Yes, this is it.

It’s time.

It is no longer an abstract.

The moment is upon us.

Hope, has left the room.

Tears well up.

The point of no return has come.

The attending physician somehow gets your attention.

Her eyes are full of two things:

Professional compassion and the consequence of truth.

Eyes still locked.

The decision has been made.

Acceptance of that truth stings for a moment.

Then a desperate attempt to salvage the seconds left.

The chaos falls away.

The people go out of focus.

 

The only thing left in the room,

a vessel that contained love.

 

The transfer is complete.

The eyes, always the eyes.

Expressive eyes at one time,

need a gentle palm to close the lids.

Fingertips insuring that rest is obtained.

 

Time.

Quiet.

Disbelief.

What next?

 

The end is near sometimes,

and then it is right on top of us.