jfastereft - Tumblr blog

jfastereft · 4 years

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THE PINETREE SANDLOT BALLPARK" a poem for Saturday, June 13, 2020

A sandlot here, somewhat fenced in,Built by my Unc', now passed away.I walk around it and used to win,At baseball when I was young and thin,A ballpark we blessed many a day.

This family land, we're tending still,With taxes we've paid every year,We'll sell that lot; one day we will,But pinetree memories will always thrill,Me, as children play and bring their gear.

I walked the lot the other day, Upon a path, long mowed by me,And to the boys who'd come to play,I greeted them with a fond "Hurray,"Returning their ball lost 'neath the tree.

And soon I walked and saw a sign,"Stay out" the boys had posted there,A boy did cry, "This lot is mine,"They broke the fence and felled the pine.No memories were there to share.

The "equity" of youth seems clear,They will demand the past to go,To forget all except the fear,Of "Youth Must Rule;" I'll shed a tear,For in their eyes my youth won't show.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRIKJCKWla4

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"EARTHING" a poem June 11, 2020 (Thursday)

Perhaps I am spending tooMuchTime in the house,

In front of a screen and stuck on a couch.

Perhaps in AirJordans my feet suffer much,

Because my bare skin TheEarth'sCrust can not touch.

Perhaps if we walk more on ground and on grass,

I will feel better, and getOff of my _ _ _.

Perhaps, if we take off our shoes and walk more,

It will affect us right down to our core.

Perhaps, IF life matters, we'll let go of hate,

And play us some "footsies;" it might just be great,

We'll realize lotting and riots aren't good;

PARKS are for loving and hugging trees' wood.

fin

https://www.groundology.co.uk/videos?show=the-earthing-movie

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"PROTESTING VIOLENCE" a poem for: June 4, 2020 (Thursday)

A dignified protest comes during the day,It starts and it stops in a dignified way.

It won't promote lawlessness, hurling insults,It can be strong, but it wants fair results.

The protests we see here don't honor the dead,But honor anarchy and tend to cause dread.

If officers come to protect life and limb,Shouting is violent, and taunting them, grim.

Peaceful assembly is not a mob action,Destruction and stealing comes from a dark faction.

When anarchy cries, "Our Democracy rules,"Violence prevails, and we see bloody pools.

Those protesting violence in this horrid way,Are promoting the violence, just fueling the fray,

And their sad revolution will rip things apart,Assuring no future, while breaking each heart.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2CxC8Qqu-4

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"A CAN OF TOMATO SOUP" aka "WHEN TECHNOLOGY USURPS NATURAL" June 2, 2020 (Tuesday) It's amazing to be born and grow, opening your eyes in wonder,At the beginning, clean and ready to live a lifetime here under, Encountering family faces, smiling and flushed like tomato soup,Watching, in wonder, as you squirm and make your first poop. You make compost for a red, juicy tomato hugging a rainy sky,As you learn to focus and see clearly from each little eye,And wind blows the plant stem and the petals all around,You trade your wonder to be allowed to walk upon fertile ground. The air blows wonderfully across your face and your foot finds a bee,Pain is terrible and wonderful, but, more than this, it is what you see,The tomato quenches your hunger, and you touch more than you know,Affecting everything and everyone, and you hear the wonderful "No." "A tomato may be too wonderful," so "There is always soup in a can,"And "Yes, it is wonderful to create metal and processed food for you, man."After all, when your teeth are lost, you can still gulp tomato paste,Forsaking life's fullness, and then time can become an utter waste. You forget the sky and wind and wonderful tomato and only soup will remain,No longer is life worthwhile, as cans replace the wonder of the rain,A single can of tomato soup usurps the marvelous red life sphere, A bad trade, for soon hands can no longer grasp what is here. It is wonderful, this clever ploy which trades the supple tomato skin,For metal and a processed non-life, soon forced to dwell within?We are so led to live in this unnatural tomato soup condition,Grant me again to know a child's sane eyes and canned soup prohibition. fin. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8qvQeXEAa4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF7pmimzjBs

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"Hope," a poem: May 13, 2020 (Wednesday)

Please point a way to hope; please make it so,

That we might have some hope that we might know.

Without some hope, time surely sours and takes its toll,

We watch and weep, as on and on the months do roll.

Each morning comes; no longer do I wish to rise,

Without sweet hope, life's battle lost, I do surmise.

The greatest army, without hope, it will surrender,

Deep sadness urges all to write: "Return to Sender."

For hope we pray; therefore, upon this day,

We hope for hope to come; please show a way.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_fuIMye31Gw

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"A Wonderful Sense" a poem for wonderful parents, May 10, 2020 (Sunday)

A poem for Mother shall be kind; she was so kind to me,

And, with Dad, she helped to make a happy family.

Mum and Dad have got a sense of "We're where we need to be,"

"And we have intrinsic worth." I think I'd like to see,

Everyone infected with that virus, seems so fair.

"Ignorance is bliss," I've heard: I wonder why I care,

Whether populations should all have such happy folks,

Who smile and have such interests and still tell corny jokes,

But, since I don't know why it seems I think that may be nice,

I'll volunteer at weddings to shout and throw some rice,

Proclaiming that most couples should never e'er think twice,

They should maybe jump right in and throw the happy dice,

And hopefully they'll win that toss; I think it's good to try,

To grab on faithfully to life, never asking "Why?"

My folks are great, and I am glad they turned out as they are,

A lucky couple loving life; they traveled very far.

fin.

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"Birthdays" a poem for Sunday: May 10, 2020

On the day of my birth, things were clean and bright,

I had energy and giggles, and The Earth was quite the sight,

Things were all pristine, or that's what I've been told,

My room was spic and span; my parents strong and bold.

My clothes were new and fresh, and the food we got to eat,

Was tasty and nutritious; life was quite the treat.

So, Mom cleaned my room, my clothes and fed us right,

Dad protected and provided; tucked us in at night.

We were healthy and happy, with play, work and study,

God seemed to love us all, and The Earth was our buddy,

There were holidays, family reunions and mirth,

And I thanked lucky stars for the day of my birth.

Yet, the world was turning; soon, rumors of war,

And greed and corruption, struck at my core,

But my parents assured me, things are OK,

And we dusted and cleaned, and we made every day,

As good as we could, with birth celebrations,

And births multiplied in all of the nations.

With more and more people, the air got polluted,

And factories flourished, and "have-nots" now looted,

While the clean and the fresh became much less each day,

We tried to stay orderly and put stuff away,

But the years make us older and weaker and slow.

How can we keep up? And there's melting of snow.

The Earth is now sick, as the dust piles high,

Birthdays still happen, and, yes, we still try,

To keep things attractive and working a bit,

But most days I watch all the dust build and sit,

Wishing The Overwhelm would go away,

Disease in The World is rampant today.

Our leaders are ruthless, and they will proclaim:

"Our house is in order," and others they blame,

For poor food and health and working conditions,

And not sleeping well and oft-failed missions,

And birthdays aren't as they were decades ago,

Something is wrong; what's this soot on the snow?

So, my house is all dirty, my clothes all unclean,

The shower and the toilet are faulty, obscene,

I try to wash and cut my hair; arthritis grips my life,

And I'm asked what I want; I have no child or wife.

Could you tell me how to dust a house that's filled with so much dust,

Or how to clean the clothes I wear and wipe away the crust,

That forms around my cracking lips? My life is now a wreck.

Another birthday ushers in; I cradle my poor neck,

That's stiff and hurts from decades of trying to figure out,

What it takes to live aright; what's it all about?

On my 64th birthday, what I'm asking from you,

Is what in the world am I supposed to do?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7TANPFMf1k

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jfastereft · 4 years

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ALIEN ABDUCTION, a poem May 8, 2020 (Friday)

Aliens took me when I was young;

I went to ships, and there they clung,

To me and I was scared, just unprepared,

For their touching, but they cared.

Decades passed, and years went by,

While still they took me; we did fly,

For me, a kindly, alien girl friend,

Very nice, but it did end.

Years passed then; I suffered lack,

A friend did ask, "Would you go back?"

"Oh YES! Here, terrorists and climate change,

And now disease; no touch is strange."

"Don't touch," proclaim the rulers here,

True terrorists, dispensing fear.

They, truly cruel alien abductors all,

Without kind touch, we all do fall.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYwhvD2-fYw

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“THE BROKEN SPELL” a poem for May 4, 2020

With nuclear reactors, mind control and A. I. scare,

How to break The Spell, promoting living without care?

For future woes and world dissolution seems too certain,

Hearts and minds and souls and spirits are desperately hurtin’.

I wonder what is worst of all that we all must endure:

Pandemics, isolation, torture: Which do you prefer?

Loss of family, loss of life, loss of bank account.

We are all bombarded; restrictions, they do mount.

The Spell of Spells that so confines is ever too direct,

For it is Fear that molds and shapes and hampers The Elect.

If fear can be contained, controlled, then we will each be fine.

What is Love? An antidote, a friend of yours and mine.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEXWRTEbj1I

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“REGRET” a poem 4 May 2020 (Monday)

If God was there to listen, I'd apologize today,

I'd drop to my REGRETful knees and gently I would pray,

For persecuting truth tellers, like Julian & Snowden,

For creating monsters in The World, like Trump, Hitler and Odin.

I would create religions and urge all to comply,

And make us feel accountable, so none would steal or lie,

Or be so cruel to animals, in farms or in the home.

Chickens, cattle would not suffer; they could freely roam.

Men to treat the women better, I would pray and then,

Apologize for hatred of the women for the men.

Holding grudges, watching decent fabric shed apart,

Sex crime, wars, intolerance, shootings at The Mart,

Where vile food is handed out and tablets line the shelf,

To rot our bodies and our minds, and now we hate our self.

REGRETting toxins from the cars and factories and plants,

Our souls are fried, like magnifying glass upon the ants.

Where cruelty replaces loving kindness. Please refrain,

Sadly, we condemn ourselves and others. Oh! What pain!

If we forget forgiveness, we struggle then to live,

Struggling to just receive, forgetting how to give.

But since there is no God, with ear to hear my plea,

I apologize to everyone, but no one can hear me,

As REGRETting I apologize through this meager poem,

And hide myself in sickness and depression in a dome.

We listen to the curses of those who earnestly,

Assess that we have not enough of love and sympathy.

'Tis not enough to write a poem or sacrifice your life.

There's too much sin upon these shoulders, much REGRET and strife.

And so in this conclusion: Be kind, forgiveness share,

Or hurt, REGRET and sadness will permeate the air.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Nzy1cfnKh4

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“HELL 2020″ a poem April 28, 2020 (Tuesday)

Another day in hell and the minions carry out,

The politicians’ mandate to cover up your snout.

We get the daily news to instill the daily fear,

With officials smiling, “Don’t give up” and “Have another beer,”

As we shudder quite inside our homes and only do “fist pump,”

Because we’re told to hug no more. The gov. has lost its slump,

Because they all have got us (pause) by the shortest hair,

And love to tell us “Wash your hands” and also to “Beware,”

Because, in hell, it’s fear that makes them feel so fine,

‘Cause fear can keep us all controlled.

“Don’t send no Valentine.”

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZI-8d6yL66Y

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“BIGFOOT” a poem April 26, 2020 (Sunday)

“EX TEND CI VILIZATION!” “RENEWABLE!” is our cry:

Wind! Solar! Are we winning? Please don’t ask me why,

We’ve got bigger gas plants still plugging in the grid.

Deserts dead? (I don’t think so.) With ego or the id,

You can’t overcome ego; it will not suicide.

Carbon footprint, baby . . . is becoming large and wide.

She said: “I have lost (my) faith (in) humanity, life and living.”

Environmental is not helped, more taking and less giving.

It’s clear that GREEN, sweet ENERGY will destroy each living thing,

So, humans and their strategies simply will not bring,

Sweet solutions, only problems, ones we’ll have to face.

It could now be the end near end of the human race.

Take a pill, get therapy, spread virus all around.

Populations crashing! Into that wall we’re bound.

Are you scared? Well, I am too. I wish some answer, Dears,

But, lacking those I AM sadly simply filled with fears.

A terrifying, human impact; “Green” can not save us,

With Elon, jetting onto Mars, will cost more than a bus,

And it will burn much fuel, while leaving Earth behind.

Progress? Who knows what that is? Still puts us in a bind.

Cleaner? Better? I don’t think, just different degradation.

And it is just everyone! Throughout the world, each nation.

Will aliens come to save us? At Area 51?

Do they have technologies? or answers from the sun,

To save our species on The Brink. or must we die to find,

Fewer of us,

Is the answer,

To save human kind?

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zk11vI-7czE

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jfastereft · 4 years

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"Humans are messed up . . ." April 26, 2020 (Sunday)

How do we live SO MESSED UP? and do it every day?

How do we glow with sunshine . . . then get so bloody gray?

Who made this up? Who placed us "here?" in such a bad array?

IF there was God, I'd point the finger . . .in every sort of way.

Yes, I know we can admit that we are good AND bad,

But most folks will not feel it because they would go mad,

Because acceptance comes with love, and I do not see how,

A messed-up thing can find The Love that's always in the NOW.

True prayer admits: "I am messed up." The humble per haps MAY,

But most of us humanity in bubbles we will stay.

"Forgive me, I won't do again." "Oh, probably so," I say.

Forgive messed-up humanity. (Just) LOVE forgives all-way.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNQw0o4Muoc

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“FIRST THINGS FIRST” a poem April 20, 2020 (Monday)

“What’s most important to do today?”

I ask that question, and then I say:

“Well, I don’t know; please help (me) someone.”

Not a good way to start, not much fun,

Prioritizing can take so much time.

I find limited space for life and this rhyme.

I better just pick and assume me the best,

And pick on something

And not request,

That someone decide my life for me.

I can do it myself.

First ONE;

(Pause) two three . . .

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uBBgiCEJLo

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“DO” a poem for: Monday, April 20, 2020

If you’re gonna do it, you might as well do it, you might as well do it now,

For, it’s good to do it, if you’re gonna do it. Sure, you can always ask how,

But if it’s a something that makes sense doing, doing it is the thing.

Thinking about it is good, I guess, but thinking will never bring,

The satisfaction of doing IT that which is good to do,

So, just get with it and do it. OK? Do it until you’re through.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jix7XcbVA4w

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“FIND LOVE” a poem

“The time you spend before The Screen equ als your love for me.”

This was said by my friend whose name? technology.

“If you don’t vote, then you don’t care,” say politicians here.

“I CAN complain, since I don’t vote.” This echoes in the air.

Why should we love a bully, who wants to take our time,

And make our lives revolve around a patriotic rhyme,

Or keep us fascinated with information streams,

Such love can be addictive. “They” want us on their “teams.”

Their parties or their media. “Follow me,” they say.

“Balance is the only thing that is a loving way.”

I am the one who wishes to always balance well,

Here I am before this screen,

And this is what I tell.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1sOZFf4ak4

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jfastereft · 4 years

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“SILENCES” a poem April 18, 2020 (Saturday)

Is there a silence, golden and fair,

A quiet, you wait with smiles and share,

Anticipation for joy, exaltation:

Silence so Golden? and then celebration (pause)

And then, is there silence that’s dead, without hope,

Of any good coming? Come, let us mope.

THIS silence seems heavy, with ne’er a relief.

A silence of graveyards, one of BELIEF.

I hope this for you, never the latter,

Only the former; it surely does matter,

BUT, if you are HAPPY, a Lord of The Dance,

Between these two silences, there’s no difference.

For whatever comes, IF you’re truly happy.

All things are good; nothing is crappy.

fin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESZ0D7UVaQY

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