Discordant Note

Scratching, floating

Hanging in the air

 

 

Pressure ebbs and flows 

Headpiece filled with straw

 

 

A twisted melody lingers

Confusion and rage entwined 

Resentment's bitter sting

Wrestles with sorrow's whine

 

 

Innocence stolen, trust shattered

By hands meant to protect

 

 

The child within still bleeds

Silently searching, begging for respect 

 

 

Justice denied, our secrets buried

Master manipulator 

A monster cloaked in lies

 

 

Crimes still hidden 

Despite Death's hand

Too late for tortured cries

 

 

Feet of clay now returned to dust

From whence they darkly came

Leaving behind a tangled mess

Of trauma, grief and shame 

 

 

The urge to desecrate, destroy

Wage war upon their grave

Wrestling with guilt, pity and relief 

Yes, he is no more

But I am not yet saved

 

 

This victory feels hollow 

An unearned, empty gift

When wounds still pulse and throb

No closure, the burdens unshift 

 

 

 

I imagine looking for the tombstone,

Fists and soul clenched tight,

Anger, disgust, and rage.

 

 

Shadows cast doubt over my morals,

Compass dysfunctional, truth estranged.

Like Basque tongues tangled with Ainu clicks,

A labyrinth of questions ethics inflicts.

 

 

No tears of mourning shed

No idea the monster was laid to rest

Three years later, a happy accident

Release a demon locked deep in my chest

 

 

How to reconcile the little child

Who needed love and care

With the person now made to carry

This discordant note hanging in the air

 

 

In the depths of this discordance 

Frustration and confusion still rise

Dare I confront the shadows

Curse their peaceful demise?

 

 

Every anguished scream swallowed 

Each day, coerced, suffocated in silence

Transmuting years of buried aches

Why not release in rightful fierce violence?

 

 

Through serpentine paths of healing

Piece by shattered piece remade,

Scars shimmering with untold stories 

Of battles braved and traumas mourned

 

 

In owning all that was endured

By innocent hands and shattered trust

Languidly learning to cradle, soothe

My inner child waiting, weeping in the dust

 

 

Each breath is an act of bravery

Every step is defiant, resolute 

Reclaiming fractured narratives

No longer voiceless or mute

Through my poetry, I find release

May its rhythm grant me peace.

 

 

This journey from victim to victor

Is paved with shards of broken self

Reassembled by courageous hands

Into mosaics of pain and health 

 

 

A symphony of survival

Echoes in the spaces in between

I cannot rewrite my cruel history 

I yearn like others to live and dream

 

 

Beyond the reach of phantom hands

That sought to break and steal and mar

I rise in revolutionary softness

Tempered by battles, reminded by scars

 

 

The discordant note, a stubborn seed, 

Resists the soil, its tyranny decreed, 

Yet woven slow, within the larger frame, 

An ostinato may conquer its shame, 

Finds solace in the weave, a timeless plea, 

Echoing Eliot, Stravinsky rewrites history. 

MIND YOUR Ps AND Qs

WHAT ABOUT  RSTUs

DO THEY THINK THAT WE ARE FOOLS

JUST WHAT ARE THOSE CRAZY RULES

I AM EASILY CONFUSED

NEVER MIND OH WHAT'S THE USE

SOME THINGS JUST CAN'T BE DEFINED

SOME ARE BETTER LEFT BEHIND

AT LEAST THAT IS WHAT I FIND

DANCING ROUND INSIDE MY MIND

CONTEMPLATE

CONCENTRATE

DEMONSTRATE

DEVIATE

DESIGNATE

HESITATE

MEDITATE

MEDIATE

PERPETRATE

PENETRATE

RESONATE

REPLICATE

SIMULATE

STIMULATE

SATURATE

SEPARATE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SELECTIVE

PERSPECTIVE

REFLECTIVE

INVENTIVE

ATTENTIVE

COLLECTIVE

CONNECTIVE

DECEPTIVE

DIRECTIVE

PERCEPTIVE

RECEPTIVE

SUGGESTIVE

INTENSIVE

PROSPECTIVE

 

 

 

 

 

 

PREDESTINED

TO BE DESTINED

NOT TO MENTION

THIS DIMENSION

ITS ASCENSION

CAUSES TENSION

INTERVENTION

ITS INTENTION

IS INVENTION

OF PERCEPTION

WHEN YOU'RE INNOCENT AND NAIVE

IT'S SO HARD FOR YOU TO BELIEVE

SO MANY ARE PRONE TO DECEIVE

WHAT A TANGLED WEB THEY WILL WEAVE

HOW DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU CAN TRUST

WHEN SO MANY OF THEM WILL JUST

CAUSE YOU TO BELIEVE THAT YOU MUST

QUESTION EVERYTHING IN DISGUST

SO MANY GOOD ARE OUT THERE TOO

JUST GOTTA BELIEVE THAT IS TRUE

WHAT ELSE  CAN YOU POSSIBLY DO

THAN BELIEVE THERE ARE SOME LIKE YOU

 

I'M NOT INTO SCI- FI

NOT CRAZY BOUT A.I.

IT WASTES TOO MUCH ENERGY

THEY NEED NEW TECHNOLOGY

THEY RUSH INTO WAY TOO MUCH

AND I'VE REALLY HAD ENOUGH

OF SO MUCH TOXICITY

THAT SCENE JUST ISN'T  FOR ME

WE NEED TO STOP MAD SCIENTISTS

LET'S LOCK THEM UP NOW THERE'S A TWIST

I WOULD TRULY LOVE TO SEE

SO WE ALL COULD LIVE IN PEACE

 

 

 

 

"Primum non nocere," a principle profound,

 

Not rigid law, but wisdom found.

 

In healing's halls, where choices weigh,

 

It guides the hand, but doesn't sway.

 

 

 

"ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν," a balanced plea,

 

"To benefit, or harm not," complexity's key.

 

Not black and white, but shades between,

 

Where modern medicine's challenges are seen.

 

 

The caduceus gleams, oft misunderstood,

 

While Asclepius' staff stands where healing stood.

 

Symbols twisted, meanings blurred,

 

Yet ethical practice remains undeterred.

 

 

In sterile rooms where decisions loom,

 

Doctors and patients dispel the gloom.

 

They weigh the risks, consider gain,

 

In partnership, to ease the pain.

 

 

 

Some peddle falsehoods, sweet and bright,

 

While truth seeks haven in the night.

 

But evidence-based practice stands tall,

 

Against deception's siren call.

 

 

"Primum nil nocere," evolving still,

 

Not perfection, but good faith's will.

 

To strive for best, while harm to shun,

 

In healing's never-ending run.

 

 

 

In research labs and by bedsides true,

 

Ethical minds seek what to do.

 

Through trials tested, with knowledge bright,

 

They pierce the veil of health's long night.

 

 

 

"To benefit, or harm not," the true decree,

 

A beacon burning, for all to see.

 

Not simple maxim, but complex art,

 

Where science meets the human heart.

 

 

With shared trust, respect held high,

 

Patient and healer together try

 

To chart a course through health's dark sea,

 

With ethics as their guiding key.

 

         "Primum non nocere," oft misapplied,

 

Not absolute, but a principle to guide.

 

In Hippocrates' time and modern day,

 

It's context and intent that hold sway.

 

 

 

The Greek, "ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν," rings true,

 

"To benefit, or at least do no harm," anew.

 

A nuanced approach, not black and white,

 

Balancing risks in healing's light.

 

 

 

The caduceus twined, with wings so bright,

 

A symbol of commerce, not healing's might.

 

Asclepius' staff, with serpent alone,

 

The true emblem of medicine, long known.

 

 

 

In modern clinics, where science reigns,

 

Ethical practice carefully maintains

 

A balance 'twixt benefit and potential harm,

 

With patient's values central to this charm.

 

 

 

Open communication, a cornerstone strong,

 

Where patient and doctor, together belong.

 

In shared decisions, they navigate

 

The complex paths that health dictate.

 

 

 

Some may twist ethics for selfish gain,

 

But true healers strive to ease pain.

 

With evidence-based practice as their guide,

 

They stand against misinformation's tide.

 

 

 

"To benefit, or at least do no harm," evolves still,

 

Not perfection, but good faith's will.

 

From rigorous study, and trials so keen,

 

True healing emerges, complex yet clean.

 

 

 

In healing's art, there's no guarantee,

 

But ethical practice sets conscience free.

 

With care and skill, and wisdom's light,

 

We navigate health's day and night.