Hi, I am a 55 year old retired snowplower.

Introduction followed by Invitational poem.
Palpable.
Asian Haiku (575 Format)
My First Poem.
7 Keys to Success.

  • Introduction:

“What is a Poem?”

I’ve always asked myself this riddling question as a 15 y o Milwaukee Trade & Tech High School student, daydreaming in English class. This is all a figment of my imagination. Life being a reflective mirror of how i’m vibrating and feeling inside, at any given moment.

Typically a creative artist just doesn’t go around logically thinking a poem into beingness. A poem is more of a subjective “FEELING” that gently emanates from the center. The Inner Sun. The Heart is gently uncovered, like clouds dissolving in the heat and warmth of the rising sun. It’s an unveiling of sorts. You allow the solar energy to blossom up from deep ancestral roots, up the spinal stem, seasoned by sharp protective thorns, then lovingly let go, and freely released to the Universe. It’s a subtle connection to ultimate reality. The trouble with words is that symbolism and labels usually distort and get in the way of the FEELINGS beyond the words. Intuition allows one to swim deeper to that rich inner core. Like a spelling bee…diving deeper Into the HEART of the FLOWER/ SOUL/ SOURCE that permeates all matter. Only then can the essence of all that is be truly appreciated, as a reflective mirror of oneself.

Self-Introspection.

“A poem is word play, yet it is the FEELING beyond the words.”

To FEEL the eternal moment without preconceived notions or ideas on the matter.

The rrrrred rose.

You silence the noise of the mind first. Then you LISTEN. To frequencies, sounds, vibrations, whatever comes. The unlimited spectrum of electromagnetic energies. Until you perceive that Universal community garden, that ultimate Mother called Earth within.

Heart is an anagram for Earth.

So it all comes around again,
Full sacred circle.

Mind & Authentic Heart meeting in the middle with a cup of coffee or tea.

A poem is MOVEMENT co-existing with STILLNESS.
It is that simple.

“I am my poetry, and so are YOU.”

“Lost myself in your soulful embrace,
stripped of all sense of time & space,
Wrapped up in a burning dancing flame,
at the center of the most unspeakable love,
That puts all rose petals & horizons to shame,
after finding my self again for what felt like an eternity, I still don’t even know your name…” – The Poet

  • Palpable.

My favorite American English word.

  • Asian Haiku. (575 Format)

‘If my words fail
to put the reader
in a soothing place

or at the most
a state of ecstasy,
on occasion

…then I need to STEP
MY
GAME UP.’

                    LoL  

7 Master Keys to Success.

1) Purpose & Focus

2) Passion

3) Positive Attitude

4) Commitment

5) Discipline

6) Integrity

7) ‘Fess Up (Come Clean)

Actually, these steps reflect the 7 chakras.
There is Flexibility.

YOU CAN EVEN REVERSE THE PROCESS!!!

Published by Uncle June's Handyman Services.

56 year old retired snow plower.

One thought on “Hi, I am a 55 year old retired snowplower.

  1. I’m concurrently writing a Science Fiction Short Story. Here’s a rough draft.

    STORY NUMBER FOUR. DRUNK POET’S SOCIETY.

    We have been observing this particular species since the mind decided to invent Time. Guidelines completely restrict servers from intervening in all human affairs, unless they threaten the Event Horizon.
    “So where do we go? We can’t stay here long.”, Mr Nelson sniffs the floor, growling at the crumbs of sound bouncing off the iPod mini speakers.

    Miss Maisley retorts. “It’s okay to pee on rosebushes sometimes, Mr Nelson.”

    “Ohh, just because i’m diurnal, Miss Maisley.”, Reflected Mr Nelson.

    Miss Maisley’s right eyebrow turns into a tripped “less” mathematical sign. <

    And do not even attempt to howl at the Moon.
    There was something so clandestine about diurnal black cat showering herself in the moon light. Light shower tickling her body.
    It is weird living within the womb of dark matter, with the light shining through the window of Anocha's space pod, an endless eternal night.
    The community of "One" aboard the Mothership no longer keeps track of Cloud data, or mists of dark energy.
    Pluto nonchalantly lit a clove, exhaling fumes from his flared nostrils, "We drained that rock, too, that didn't take long. That's the only thing human viruses are really good at…depleting solar systems of resources. We're actually angels of death."

    Pluto set his paw on his neck bone. Then nibbles.

    Mr Nelson nudges the center of his spectacles with his forefinger, sliding them closer to the stern of his nose.
    Bio-engineered humans. Flesth brought here in secret…stowaway rats on a floating pirate ship. They have become the most consuming, and dangerous species in all the multi-Universes.
    Our primary duty is to guard the Sun, protect it's host planets from interlopers.
    A planet's DNA blockchain can be restructured and regenerated.
    If need be.
    It’s been twenty furlongs and seven years since Regor killed Tina,
    Not only that, the malevolent plague he spread wiped out the entire system.
    Damn those arrogant V.I.P. social distance experiments. It split the DNA of the human population in half. Two strands were deleted from the four corners of the silver cord.

    The rest
    of the world
    essentially works online
    since that epic offline skirmish.

    The aftermath, unfortunately, left
    Oceania poisoned due to the Industrial revolution of computerization.

    “Summer year of 2023, Miss Alpha.”
    Mr Nelson gathers a rose petal.
    Cyber bots had
    taken over valuable shorelines, and virtual real estate domain. Complete control of the simulation.

    Banks and toilet paper company CEO’s wiped their asses up pretty much with everything, Wallstreet commodities recovered, while surfboards, and hover board stocks clawed back losses.

    Many investors ran off like a raccoon with all the cat food.

    Overseas debt ebbs, China recovers,
    And the Asian military contained the video virus leak, that started the "Rona outbreak.

    The sticky key word was balance,
    by using the Libra force.

    Bug June?

    Brought to you by a comet. A fiery human comet with digitalization of streaming consciousness.
    Rather than battling slot machines, I’ve adopted more natural justice, of adaptation.
    I control the mechs by scanning, and purging them for a weak spot, with cosmic flames.
    A retired computer bug.
    Thoughts create simulated reality, you see.
    so, as a beta tester that’s my department. to reformat the online servers. Technically heal them. Comparable to dogs visiting hospitals.

    Our aim is to undo all the damage that Regor had done to deleted online history.

    Regor, the legend hack is considered the
    Moriarty of craft. The program has been revered as the super hacker of all virtual time, DOS systems even predicted his return.

    Well… not only….should I say, Omega’s goal is to reprogram, not brainwash, undo the glitches, on their own terms.
    Whoop their ass
    with Finesse.
    Get an A plus.
    We’re not regulated by any federal agents, local governments, or international star systems
    We’re #Family #First. Self-owned LLC.’s second. Keeping it “Jeepin’ real”, Shall I say.

    Log out.

    The iPad plays Queen Gambit. Black pawn first. No!…not the white pawn. Black d4 white d5 black c4. Boom nap. Then the rest of Russian Alexander Alekhine’s blissful symphony of chess moves.

    More Shenanigans, From Mr Nelson.
    Copyright © 2020
    Sears L Barnett Jr.
    All Rights Reserved.

    writing, photography, science, fiction, poetry

    Like

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