Brian37 AKA Brian James Rational Poet…… My Poetry

  • Welcome to Brian James Rational Poet’s poetry blog

    Welcome to my poetry blog. I love reading Plath and Sexton and Dickenson and Maya. But to me, the best poets I have read are the unknows. The giants are great for sure, but the friends and locals and groups are a joy to participate in. I encourage everyone who writes poetry to be themselves. It is ok to have influences, but you should always in the end be yourself. There is only one them, and only one you.

    Let words be your canvas, show them the raw you, in all your happiness and sadness. Show them your love of nature, and empathy and kindness, but also make them think, provoke, even blaspheme. The poet’s job to me, is to never be shy or timid, but use every word in your vocabulary to paint the best pictures you can. Paint your sunrises, your sunsets, your romance, your fears. Paint your insecurities, your addictions, your successes, your tears.

    This blog is dedicated to my late mother Jane. She was my biggest supporter and never let me fall through the cracks. While she was a bit of an authoritarian growing up, that all melted away in her late years, and we grew as close as any parent child could. We had so much fun with our silly car games and rubber duckies, and counting the trees. And our wordplay games, and our thumb wrestling. And forget Yahtzee and backgammon, she always kicked my…… at that. I love you mom. I miss you horribly.

    And also my late best friend ever, Bob. He unfortunately passed away in 2017. He lived in Australia, he was a science geek, and he taught me a lot about debate, and some science. I can only grasp overall concepts, not real nitty gritty details. But he most importantly made me feel comfortable in my own skin. I miss you too Bob.

    Then there is this annoying guy from Okleeee homa, who says “tators”, and “videeeaaaa” instead of “video”. And don’t get John started on banjos. He is my best friend and he is always there for me, and I love that redneck.

    And also Dwayne, Stacey and Vicki. You saved my life all of you. Thank you.

    All poetry posted by me on this website is attached to @brianrrs37, handle RationalPoet on Twitter ,as well as “Brian James Rational Poet” on Facebook/ META. And is subject to copywrite on all my pages.

    A Special thanks to Brian Sapient of Rational Responders http://www.rationalresponders.com for hosting my poetry thread for so long. Thank you.

    AND….. YOU are more than welcome to share this link on your social media. Especially Meta and Twitter, but your own social media too. Any help bringing traffic here is more than welcome. THANK YOU.

    This poetry blog may contain some material that may be considered sensitive to some viewers. Reader discretion advised.

    Now, everyone, grab your popcorn, glass of wine, and watch me make a fool of myself. Enjoy.

    HEADS UP….. THERE ARE PEOPLE MIMICKING MY TWITTER ACCOUNTS……

    I only have two Twitter accounts.

    “RationalPoet@brianrrs37”
    AND
    “Brian@rationalpoet37”

    THERE ARE MORE PAGES. WHEN YOU GET TO THE BOTTOM OF EACH PAGE, in mice print….. It says “Next Page”.

    NEW EDIT………

    If you want to leave a comment to any poem, click on the BOLD title of the poem first, scroll to the bottom of the poem, and you should see a field to leave the comment in.

     

     

    ,

  • Timeless

    Timeless, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    Foggy eyes
    Tearing up
    Don’t be sad
    Just cheer up

    I watched a video
    Kids critiquing a song
    I grew up with
    Past time so long

    I saw Miley
    Singing Blondie
    I know Blondie
    Covered Buddy Holly

    In the grocery store
    A while a go
    I saw a teen
    Wearing AC/DC

    Adam Lambert
    Keeping Queen alive
    Future generations
    The baton survives

    I may be old
    But some things
    Are timeless
    Music transcends

    The spark is endless.
    (end)

    I love the fact that often I run across teens or young adults who love the same music I grew up with. Last week I ran into a kid who loved Pink Floyd. Today I was watching a video of black couple, must be in their early 20s critiquing Blondie’s “Heart Of Glass” and liking it. And I was thrilled to see Queen play the Global Citizen’s festival and Adam Lambert charging up the young adults singing side by side with their parents and even grandparents.

    I hate getting old, but I get a tear in my eye seeing this. It especially hits close to home because I was a dork, awkward teen and didn’t have my first friend until high school. Music and TV were my only friends on my street, my only escape from the bullies. It is simply nice to know I really wasn’t as alone as I thought I was back then.

    I can look back at even the Bee Gees and ABBA and not give a shit what people thought back then of them, or what some still think now. I can listen to them and Metallica and Paula Abdul and Living Coulour. Point is the really good songs, last and become timeless and future generations will like them too. It simply makes me feel young again.

  • I Would Tell You

    I Would Tell You, by Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    I would tell you
    Their names
    But those killers
    Don’t deserve the fame

    I would tell you
    How many so far
    But it’s been countless
    Over the decades to start

    .I would tell you
    We’ve had enough
    But not even Newtown
    Shook things up

    I would tell you
    Not to worry
    But the bodies pile up
    Everyday in a hurry

    I would tell you
    It is safe to go outside
    But even I look for exits
    Out in public inside

    I would tell you
    It was isolated
    The tune of 100 a day
    Makes that claim negated

    I would tell you
    To go see a movie
    To go out shopping
    It is safe at school

    I wish I could tell you
    Not to fear bullets rule
    I wish we could
    Give the slip

    Of the industry’s grip
    The merchants of death
    Profit off of blood baths
    Caskets in masses

    I would tell you
    It is getting better
    But the numbers
    Keep rising forever

    I can tell you this
    We can never, should never
    Get used to this
    Living under the gun

    Every hour, every day
    Under the sun
    In the dark allies
    In our homes

    In our workplaces
    Losing loved ones
    It is up to you
    To not become complacent

    It is a generational fight
    The right plight
    To stay alive, without fear
    Of someone’s selfish fetish.

    Make the tide change
    We don’t have to live this way
    Non violence should always
    Win the day

    They are afraid
    Of our vote
    They are afraid
    We are right

    And we are.
    (end)

    Mass shootings are unfortunately a very unique distinct and vile quality of American life that does not have to be that way. I wrote this poem as a response to a poem someone read on a Twitter space today about the Pulse night club shooting. And that was after watching a made for TV movie about a very real mass shooting that happened in 1988, the night before. And that is not including my JR yr HS yearbook which had a two page spread called “The Year In News.”

    In that two page spread, it had pictures with paragraphs describing the person or event in the pictures under each. One was a picture of Reagan, another was the firs artificial heart guy, another the space shuttle. But also the picture of a mass shooting in California in 1984.

    And the 10s of thousands in the past 40 years in between the few I mentioned and others you may remember but I don’t. The sad fact is that they happen every fucking day, and until the industry can be sued into behaving, and the shops being held responsible for where their products end up, this is not going to stop.

    But unfortunately the industry has a grip on a large enough minority that holds the rest of the nation hostage. It is insane to think being number 1 in firearm violence can be solved by adding more firearms to civilian hands when we already have 400 million in civilian hands. I never get a good number that would suffice the firearm worshipers. Would 1 billion guns in civilian hands be enough? How about 10 billion firearms in civilian hands? How about 50 billion? How many is enough? I say they don’t care, they simply want to win to own us, not because they are right, but because they know they are on the wrong side of history.

    Don’t ever get used to this. It may be a long road, and things may seem hopeless right now, but every voice counts, and the industry CEOs and profiteers of violence cannot win unless we let them. Use your voice, use your vote, don’t stop, no matter how long it takes.

    ,

  • Heads up for those who have Twitter. My audio poetry reading.

    If you go to both my accounts, either one and scroll down, you will see my most recent poetry reading which is about an hour long called “Skeptics Poetry” . You can listen to it at either @Brianrrs37 or @rationalpoet37. You’ll have to skip past the dead air at the beginning. I hate that it doesn’t auto clip or auto fill that. But there is an hour’s worth of poetry there. If you do decide to listen please let me know if it works for you. Twitter has been a mess lately. But it is showing up on my end.

    ,

  • Not a poem but an OP/ED

    Good Cop. OP/ED, now what you are about to read is my opinion about a news event, but it still does not change the disparity about how law enforcement treats whites or middle class whites, vs how over policed and over charged and over sentenced minorities are treated for committing similar infractions/crimes.

    Now having said that, an Oklahoma police Captain was pulled over by police for suspicion of DUI. The suspect, the Captain, repeatedly stated his title, and asked the officer to turn off his body cam, several times. To that officer’s credit, he did not. He in fact said, “I do not care if you are a gang banger or the President of the United States.” meaning he treats everyone the same and wasn’t going to play favorites because of the title.

    The Captain was arrested and put up bail and put on administrative leave pending investigation. I do wonder if it had been a black officer would they have been fired? I also now worry about this arresting officer’s safety.

    I once witnessed the aftermath of a car crash and pulled out an off duty police officer from his private car. I knew he was an officer because he constantly stopped at the convenience store I worked at multiple times a week. As I pulled him out of smokey car (Turned out to be the airbag gas), I noticed an empty booze bottle on the passenger side floor I pulled him out of.

    When the rescue and fire showed up, they took my statement, I did not see the actual impact but came across it just after it had happened, as it was a slow traffic day with no cars around. I got a summons to show up to court, which I did. But as was waiting for his case to be called, two officers came up to me and told me I would not be needed to testify.

    I didn’t quite understand at the time what they were doing, but I did leave right then. I now know they were covering his accident up to save him. I regret not sticking around now, but also wonder if I could have been threatened or had trumped up traffic charges hoisted on me by the other officers possibly stalking me.

    The point is, especially now, with one party sucking up to a dangerous liar and bully, it is now more than ever important for our law agencies at the highest ranks to be as objective as this individual officer was with a superior. The former guy has gotten way with far more damaging things that are becoming a threat to our national stability.

    If the highest in power in our intel and law enforcement are corrupt and divided politically our nation cannot function, the system will collapse and we cannot take it for granted that our system will always stand. We cannot allow election lies to foster distrust in our voting system, and we cannot allow the courts who uphold the results to be divided or corrupt either.

    It is ok to hold power to account regardless of party. It is not ok for those in power to deliberately lie and sell fear and division to the point it casts doubt on our concept of peaceful transfer of power. The former guy is under multiple civil lawsuits, and possible criminal indictments. Not because he is a Republican, but because he is abusing his power and has broken his oath multiple times and thrown his own intel under the bus to suck up to Putin and Un both brutal dictators.

    If the truth and objectivity can matter to an individual police officer then it most certainly should matter to the courts, judges and grand juries investigating the former guy. (end)

    https://www.cnn.com/2023/03/17/us/oklahoma-city-police-captain-pulled-over-dui-body-cam/index.html

  • The Fallacy Of Cuteness

    The Fallacy Of Cuteness, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37)

    It is a trap
    Easy to assume
    If it is a cute animal
    How can it meet it’s doom

    Take a duckling
    For example
    It is cute
    When it quacks for it’s mother

    But we falsely assume
    All the chicks survive
    She’ll protect them all
    When they hatch and arrive

    If late to hatch
    Or born a runt
    If it cant keep up
    Falls back too much

    The mother won’t
    Always come to defense
    If it sees the chick
    As a burden to them

    We do often see
    In nature that of adoption
    Like a pride of lionesses
    Care for other’s cubs

    But not always the case
    If cub ages not the same
    If one is a straggler
    Abandons her claim

    In other avian
    It is quite common
    For the weak chick
    To be tossed out of the nest

    A buffalo calf
    Could be sacrificed
    To a lion stalking it
    For more to survive

    I like to root
    For the underdog
    I like to see
    Success for all

    Nature doesn’t
    Work that way
    Cuteness doesn’t
    Always get it’s way.
    (end)

    Far to often laypeople think anything cute always has the upper hand. Not in nature. Allegators and crocks are viciously protective of their nest and young, at least until they get the babies to water. Mother crocks and gators can pick up their young in their mouths very gently and carry them to safety.

    In other cases mothers and fathers of many species will kick the runts or weak out of the home or abandon them or even kill them. Mother ducks are no different.

    Cute makes us feel warm and fuzzy, but nature isn’t ways warm and fuzzy.

    ,

  • Our Conceit

    Our Conceit, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    Titles are fleeting
    So too wealth
    And fame
    This passenger jet
    We call life
    Takes off
    And lands
    The same
    Carl Sagan
    Was on the spot
    Pointing out
    Our short lives
    Perceived self importance
    On this “Pale Blue Dot”
    We scurry
    And scream
    And flail
    Dominate and fail
    Fleeting marks
    We make, if any
    To no avail.

    #vss365 #poetrycommunity

    ,

  • Need To Adjust

    Need To Adjust, By Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on @Twitter)

    I find no need
    To follow such seed
    I put no value
    In holy people’s collars
    The True Scotsman fallacy
    Makes everyone right
    And everyone wrong
    Depending on point of view
    Here is what
    I think humans should do
    Leave mythology behind
    Tribalism must die
    Killing over
    A “hero” in the sky
    (end)



    ,

  • Intelligent Design

    Intelligent Design, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    The pressure on my spine
    In my lower back
    I cant go either way

    My body under attack
    I cannot pass, I cannot pee
    The medicine is not working

    What is wrong with me?
    I love feeling impacted
    My colon is a stuffed sausage

    My bladder
    A bloated water balloon
    Been to the E.R over this before

    Going back would be too soon
    And the anxiety of inability
    Is keeping me up at night

    But this perfect being
    Got my body right
    And such a daily test

    I’ll consider him an asshole
    For putting anyone through this
    But that is minor by comparison

    Than say a kid with cancer
    Or Jews in a gas chamber
    And this sky monster

    Sits and watches
    And lets it happen
    No matter if even innocent

    And lucky me
    This sky daddy
    Put me in a country

    Full of right wing pricks
    Who think health care
    Is a luxury

    These are your people
    Oh mighty one?
    Profit off of illness

    What that of insurance?
    Fuck you if you’ve none
    Die quickly, pay or suffer

    Yet this makes sense
    When you read the first commandment
    It isn’t about human welfare

    It is all about him.
    Its as if we are an afterthought
    A bored brat made

    Us his toys, his lab rats
    His pawns, oh how perfect
    It is, to not be able to shit for days.
    (end)

    This is a serious poem. I am ok, but still in some discomfort that is causing me anxiety. My primary doctor didn’t do shit but take my pulse and told me to stop taking one med and get more fiber in my diet. Well when I stopped taking that med, I couldn’t pee, so fuck him, I am going to keep taking it until I run out. But I think the fiber is also backing me up, too much, too little, cant find that balance.

    But right now it is manageable but annoying as fuck. And when I think about very serious problems like cancer and watching my mother die a slow painful death after her decision to do nothing more medically. It isn’t a matter of hating a real God. I can’t hate Darth Vader either. Just don’t insult my intellect by trying to claim an all powerful sky daddy made us in his image? If he cant get bloated and backed up and have an impacted colon, then he isn’t all powerful. If he can, he isn’t perfect. Or better yet, he doesn’t exist and my health problems are simply a result of a flawed reality for all life.





  • In A Rush

    In A Rush, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    On the Knight
    Of the city of hills
    A Ficus on his heals

    Two daughters
    Lived below
    Sarah everyone knows

    Blond and buxom
    But not my type
    I dreamed of sister Jackie

    All day and night
    Brunette and slender
    The kind I remember

    I wanted to date her
    She was yet another
    Crush in my youth

    I watched on the tube
    Pining to grow up
    And be attractive to

    Her type. I was
    In a rush to age
    Now looking back

    I had lost track
    Jackie was a dream
    Elusive to me

    Now I can see
    It was mere fantasy
    Time has taught me

    It would never be.
    I tortured myself
    To be somebody else

    And like Henry
    I was clumsy
    I slid of the couch

    So easily, I was goofy
    I was shaky in the presence
    Of someone like Jackie
    (end)

    This poem is about the character Jacky Rush on the sitcom “Too Close For Comfort” story line based in San Francisco. There was an episode where Jackie complained that her sister Sarah was prettier than she was and always got the guys. I didn’t understand that at the time because I had a huge crush on Jackie and not Sarah.

    Henry( played by Ted Knight) is the father on the show. The two early twenties daughters live in the basement apartment in the show. Monroe Ficus is the awkward goofy guy friend of the two girls and Henry eventually lets him move into the attic apartment in season 4.

    Point is I never understood what people find attractive or why I felt the ladies didn’t find me attractive. Back then. But now older and wiser it simply amounts to you cant help whom you are attracted to, and for some reason I was attracted to the slim brunette Jackie and not the buxom blond sister Sarah.

    One of the running jokes on the show is Henry could never sit properly on the girl’s couch in their apartment because it was floppy and new age and you had to know how to sit on it correctly to stay put, but Henry always slid off the couch or flipped over backwards trying to sit on it.

  • HEADS UP

    If you notice a spelling error, especially with names, please point it out. I am not a perfect person and I do try to follow the red line under every word, but sometimes even then I miss it. It would really help me out, thank you.

%d bloggers like this: