As
we drift
from focus
to the trance state,
witness consciousness
which we may call the Self,
always poised in the vast void,
remans detached yet cognisant
of all the comings and goings here,
in but not of each thought and sensation.
No doubt the gunas three twirl us around
but by resting in time dissolved calm,
light of Self becomes manifest
through tranquil meditation
as softened attention
erases space-time,
our eye single,
commingles
with God’s
light.
*
/ \
/ \
sliced
and whole
a cleaved life
in flux cast dice
state of non being
potential in between
eternity's randomness
flip a coin up into the air
unpredictability flies there
alternate reality hints upon
•>•
parallel universes going on
realistically just one path
life’s inevitable no math
untangled observation
spit out my creation
god particle sown
new baby grown
chop the cord
use sword
spliced
\ /
\ /
*
By
David Kavanagh
HMS
The Appex of Effervescence
A
Gleam
below,
a blade
of silent motion,
a ghost of shifting shadow,
a primal ancient, living spark,
we are the razor-sharp delight of the deep,
the silent power that moves the crystal flow,
a flash of cold, silver-plated effervescence,
a tremor in the soul of the fathoms' cold heart,
the apex of the abyss, a brilliant, living dart,
a rising, wordless song of all the ocean's grace.
Our Effervescence
A
child
with eyes
of summer
sky, and hair of
a strawberry blond,
a tiny, vibrant sunbeam on the bed,
a quiet, bubbling joy that fills the whole room,
our hearts are full as we watch you simply exist,
a beautiful and perfect form of such pure delight.
Here
we are,
in this cage
of body-mind,
limited by space,
taunted by flow of time
and if that is not enough,
the light of our being is veiled,
since we’re hypnotised by illusions,
indulging in which, our trance state deepens.
Choosing to rest both thought forms and senses,
by choosing to become a witness,
fulcrum of our awareness shifts
from form to the empty void,
where thus by being still,
God’s blessings in-pour
and we ascend
to heaven,
here on
earth.
I
try to
be honest
in all I say
and do. God gifted
me authenticity.
Those who really know me
can trust in my sincerity,
so I will come to the waters to
kneel there with gratitude for that and more.
Knowing me completely, God knows my thoughts,
and he knows my prayers are forthright.
For all his blessings I thank Him.
Knowing that He wants me to
magnify my callings
with integrity,
I worship God,
the Son, and
Holy
Ghost.
Scars
and Sun,
with their mark
a gruesome glow.
You can taste that edge,
as the knife stabs your throat.
Cut pumpkins swallow the Sun,
now this final curtain is warmed.
Ostentatious heat clings, darkness waits
for that first bittersweet taste of autumn.
Heart
intents
that love flows
in the veins and
soul absorbs all pain
shadows of past dislimn
ushering to a future
of innocent naiveté
where the infinite horizons meet
as the circle of life and death completes
Placed fifth
Prior to intent Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
A body possessed is a spirit that
knows no compassion, for soul grew weak.
Evil’s roots took hold. Bleak became
eyes that once could see the light.
Spirit lost will to fight.
A sinister grin
curves the host’s lips.
Sanity
now is
lost.
Most shadows are good. When light hits a tree,
shade will encircle it. You can find
relief from the summer heat by
sprawling yourself on cool grass.
Embrace shade as your friend.
When shadows creep at
night, let them, with
stillness, lull
you to
sleep.
At
other
times, shadows
are metaphors
for sinister things
which envelop you like
black fog. If they ensnare you,
summon your faith; call upon God
with all your might. Confronting shadows
means stepping into the light of the Lord.
I
Wonder
At patterns
In Stars Above
Asterisms that range
From straight line to horsehead
Traingles, quadrangles, seven sages
Inspiring stories, lores, beliefs
A tracing tool for seekers, searchers
In dark I align with them, light, am lost
The
rich joy
of the earth's
diversity
The clover meadow
a wildflower delight
Snapshot of bumblebees drinking
valuable nectar liquid
Sucking through its narrow proboscis
June is the time for our dreams to come true
Light
a match
let it spark
red, white, and blue.
Each hue’s so distinct.
Three, but truly we’re one.
Devour pain now and free peace,
consume the flame become fireworks.
A clear mind stems from understanding
dense differences build United States.
Line of inquiry: track where lies the fulcrum of the fragrance of a rose, then likewise find within, your soul. By Unseeking Seeker
From whence comes the fragrance of a flower?
At its fulcrum, the floral organs
attach to the stalk, which has poked
up out of the earth to sprout
the beautiful petals -
that sweet-scented face
which I adore
in the form
of the
rose.
My
soul is
like the rose.
I am planted
on this earth, but I
need proper nourishment
to fulfill my roles. Heaven,
please let your sun reign down on me.
My soul, like that of a rose, provides
no sweet fragrance without enlightenment.
You
Left me,
Empty. You
Left with my heart,
That’s why I’m empty.
You took all my laughter,
And you replaced it with tears.
You used up the love in my heart,
And you take up all the space in my mind.
Specific Types of Etheree Poems
Read wonderful etheree poetry on the following sub-topics:
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Definition | What is Etheree in Poetry?
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