“The aforesaid five objects, which are the negative attributes of the five electricities, being combined produce the idea of gross matter in its five forms: Ki, solids; Ap, liquids; Tejas, fire; Marut, gaseous substances; and Akasa, ether.
These five forms of gross matter and aforesaid fifteen attributes, together with Manas, Mind, sense consciousness; Buddhi, discriminative Intelligence; Chitta, the Heart or power of feeling; and Ahamkara, the Ego, constitute the twenty-four basic principles of creation.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
In the realm of heaven, our eye is single
but with no adversities to overcome,
so the one becomes two and then they jingle
propelled by the power of the cosmic hum
and in the five elements they commingle,
ego distanced from heart, though soul is welcome.
Poised thus in subject-object relationship,
we discover God when love is our flagship.
haiku 12 : crescendo
beloved adorn
skin rips skin, blood spurts air pure
horn hails emptiness
hiku
~~~~~~~
b e LOVE d
adorn
skin
R
I
P
S
skin
blood
T S
UR
R
sp i
a
pure
h
o
r
n
hails
E M P T I N E S S
Written: May 31st, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand
************
m
o
o
n l~~a
l on the
i k~~e
g
h
t
silver r~i~p~p~l~e~s tell
their tale ~
night w
i
n
d hums a*l*o*n*g
O (FATHER CHRIST)
Through the Immaculate Heart of Mother Mary
I offer You my prayers
Works
Joys
And sufferings of this day
For the intention of Your Sacred Heart
In union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass
Throughout the world
In reparation for my sins
For the intention of all my associates
And in particular for all the intentions of this month
(Mention Intention if known)
Amen
Poetry Form: Free Verse
Date Typed: May 19, 2025
Time Typed: 4:22pm
Spring Hiku 12
wrens warble on trees
river r a
m b le
s
to the sea
of i n f i n I t y.
A while ago,—you seemed a fantasy—
and like a fragmentary apparition
or a flutter flitting past my faint cognition
—to my buzzing thoughts: you the rose, I the bee.
And though my hiving mind, admittedly,
swarmed all around a phony superstition,
(you—o’ flower), yet,—(and, malintution?
aside;)—you roused in me the gayest glee.
Now, you go as a prickle—as the sting
of a hard thorn, each every random while,
and seek to nib my nose, or pique my eye.—
Well, since convention bars my asking “why?”,
I’ll try to win another petal’s smile;
—though, must you be the blossom of my spring?
Late at the airport, in haste we arrived.
Rumbling plastic wheels rushing in unity,
from tarmac to marble to carpet;
the shuffling queue dispersed, finally.
Luggage swept away, adorned with labelling.
Black and white tags mark a future, awakening.
A marathon sprint to the gate, a race against time
but a man dressed in opaque black approaches
and with regret explains
how just one seat remained,
a voice I'd never forget.
You spoke longingly of your mother's dearest day
and I swayed,
watched as your shadow boarded
naive that I had just sealed our fates.
Now I sit, staring blankly
at your unopened case
wondering if we could've opened
a different timeline in a different space.
If only we'd chosen to stay, chosen to wait.
Regrets waft through the cy air,
a melancholy echo of what could've been,
remnants of a longing to a love unseen.
In the woods, a man, shadows dance
examining his fleeting silhouette, stuck in a trance.
He raises his fist toward the sun.
He sees its embrace, withdrawn.
He wonders is a shadow the absence of light
or the presence of darkness?
If both then why
when he raises his hand further to the sky,
does brilliance become substituted by obscurity?
Is he a bringer of darkness?
Or is darkness just unfortunate light.
Trapped beneath an opaque shrine.
Bidding its time for freedom.
Love sends a signal (so intangible)
through time removed and space—more faraway
than high heavens, sun, spark of moody day
when Night her might has made immoveable.
The bold heart beats, but shyly (:¡magical!:)
hides a gross ache—(perhaps gone quite astray)—
of love destroyed by space and time. A ray
has passed and left behind a palpable
shadow.—but time’s the healer, space the fact,—
the proof? the medicine of poetry.
So know it truly, bear it in your heart:
without your gift, my art could not be art.
I mean not to entangle again what’s we—
simply I reminisce—(love? I react).
Toppled by a bottle, collapsed upon
her painful past, asleep—but well awake!—,
unmoving, but for her mind stirred aquake,
the girl is yawning before her black dawn.
Alone, couched by a burning blanket drawn
over a conscience guilty at the stake,
slipping into the sly hands of the snake,
she sees not clearly the sickening con
which lures her slowly to her deathly state.
Unknowingly, she’s dozing, edging deeper
into the dreamrealm, into the hazy
murk of the promised land.
Her name was Daisy—
until, unexpected, said the reaper,
“Poor thing… if only you could now change fate.”
from east to the west
shunkan wind gust pushing
an empty porch swing
I think I loved the you Before
Isn't that awful, baby?
You've worked so hard
So long
Clawing desperately toward a version
Of yourself only you could see.
I admired your efforts
Fondly watched your warming ashes,
But my heart grew heavier
Each day,
With every improvement.
Isn't that awful, baby?
I loved you Before--
We were shattered pieces in a crooked frame,
And I was never stupid, but God, I wished
And Hoped--
I'm so glad to see that
Blazing smile of yours;
I'm so pleased for you
To be who you want to be.
But I loved the you from Before.
And since that you is long gone,
Perhaps it's times for me to be, too.
The pressure to perform, which grips the soul
In the moment of action, digs its claw
Deep into the body, taking control —
Tense hands, weak knees, shallow breathing, clenched jaw —
Those symptoms of exaggerated worry
And anticipated anxiety
Are themselves the causes of that dreary
Failure to achieve. With some gaiety,
Attempt to fail instead, shoot to flounder;
This paradoxical intention, see,
May be just what sweeps the legs from under
Our deepest seated fears and sets us free.
“Let go,” said the Buddha. “Dive in,” declares
Viktor Frankl. One succeeds when one dares.
Through my years of defiance
And lust for reliance
I bid the underlying truth within the words
'help me'
For whatever shall come of my untimely departure
Shall configure to my last forgotten desire
Is it my sultry dance that keeps me coming for anew
Or is it something to do with my lore
Whatever it is, dear reader
Only time can bid the truth
Only one can impare my desires
'And now Israel', so let's pay attention
for God calls His people to listen
with God's authority comes His word
everything's important for nothing is missing
His first requirement is to fear the Lord
live with holy reverence to God alone
be holy yourself obeying His word
listen well for He is your chief cornerstone
Next, learn to walk in all His ways
this means all that God says to do
take heed to obey Him at all times
be fully committed to God as brand-new
Loving God is so essential
learn well all He's done for you
see afresh how Jesus died in your place
taking your sin at the cross the Bible says
Finally, serve God with all you have
giving your full heart and soul
use your God-given gifts for Him alone
making His pleasure your heavenly goal
(“And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul,)
Deuteronomy 10: 12 (ESV)
Related Poems