Pace be the plume prime of a horse,
Austere man’s leanness, girl’s shyness,
Brahmin’s knowledge, king’s forgiveness,
Valour, whose arms be the sole force.
____________________________
Translation |26.10.2024|embellishment, horse, girl,
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. Bhatrihari was elder brother of the renowned king Vikramaditya of Ujjain. He had two queens: Pingala and Padmaakshee. He loved Pingala immensely but abdicated the throne and left for forest when he found that she loved another man on the hide. A learned man, he gave wealth of literature in Sanskrit. Among them: Shringara Shataka, Neeti Shataka, Vairagya Shataka, and Vijnana Shataka. This verse is one of his brilliant creations. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Javoh hi sapte paramam vibhooshhanam,
trapa anganaayaah, krishhataa tapasvinah |
Dvijasya vidyaa, nripateh api kshhamaa,
paraakramah shastra-balena jeevitaam |
Eddie McGuire made us all groan,
Eddie the eighth (VIII) abdicated the throne.
Eddie "The Eagle" flew through the sky,
Eddie Van Halen made his guitar cry.
Eddies Murphy and Izzard made us all laugh,
Eddie "The Beast" tore a phone book in half.
Eddie "The Head" was a head banger,
Eddie Sheeran has a head like a ranga!
Eddie Mabo toiled for land rights,
Eddie Alvarez got into fights.
So Eddie be proud of your name evermore,
As it's shared with the greats who are mentioned afore.
But be your own Eddie and tread your own path.
Stay humble, grow wise and keep making us laugh!
transfixed
I stumble down
shifting halls of
my angst my
distress
a cold stale breath
stagnates and permeates
its doom
onto my essence.
beguiled
I entomb myself
in the moment
asphyxiating
flailing
clawing
grasping for
desperately
disintegrating walls.
abdicated
I capitulate to
the lair
that cold cavity
pit of dread
that
pool of tears
where my devotion
thrashes plangently.
interred
in the filth
of want
of need
of putrefying wonder
entombed within
every pore
every inch
of my desolation.
moribund
I turn to stone
my listless gaze
fixated ruefully
on the luminance
the far distant
light
where steadfast
dim hope resides.
Duality which is in motion must be stilled
If we would observe singular reality within
Muddied waters need to be distilled
Only when the mists clear, may meditation begin
Perpetual motion of body, senses & thought
Grooves of habit having huge momentum
Repressed subconscious fears & desires, which we forgot
Are all our nemesis resident in the egos sanctum
Without stopping that which is in motion
Negativity may yet be abdicated
By disassociation
In four easy steps to a consciousness elevated
Contemplation
Acceptance
Transformation
Transcendence
Four effortless steps to permanent wellness
Of which only the first two we need to walk
The last two bestowed by the Universe in stillness
So simple, so easy, yet strangely we balk!
02-November-2020
Love asks of love to resolve a dilemma arisen between two souls
That reflections display perfection within dreams at both poles
Both being love enabled and acceptant in innocence of surrender
It seems inevitable that any verdict invoked may make hearts asunder
At the moment of decision time itself takes a long breath to pause
Awestruck at the seeming impossibility to manifest effect without cause
With both having abdicated power with love as their shield yet yield
Allowing the gentleness of divine love to create a new magnetic field
Whereby no aberration in form of any contraction remains manifest
Love entwining with love in synchronousness does thus perfectly connect
All Hearts
Hidden dreams silently fall
upon the window pane of love's antiquity
where I find your face, drifting in an out of view
until I leave...with my delirium
to rooms of what should have been
forsaken to a spiritual lethargic reality
leaving me alone...with abdicated pictures
hanging on bitter walls of loneliness
There was light once...warm and comfortable
where each room glowed in vibrant colors
filled with flowers you arranged
wearing Spring dresses that quietly fluttered around you
basking in your form, as you moved like a dancer
across floors of soft splayed light from dawn's awakening
Could that I ask
you remember the good times
not the broken glass flung on the walls of anger
from a mind drunk and deserted
by hubris...before our fall
1/20/19
King Edward The VIIIth, pitiable blighter, abdicated the throne.
He had the hots for an American divorcee - this the Brits would not condone!
He was King for a spell and the paramours continued their torrid romance.
They later wed, he was busted to Duke of Windsor and they settled in France.
Wallis Simpson was middle-class but knew how to climb the social rungs.
She was twice divorced which triggered a legion of wagging tongues.
They met at Lady Furness's digs and Wallie thought Eddie not all that sexy,
But they wed incurring upon The Archbishop of Canterbury a case of apoplexy!
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Clerihew Couples For Valentines Day" Contest
(10 January 2019)
I’ve been deserted and forsaken,
relinquished and reawakened.
Renounced and completely vacated,
living a life intensely complicated.
In the throes of woes, I’m saturated.
No more time of sincere elation,
now only a lonely sensation.
To this pain shall I surrender?
I used to touch a hand so tender.
Now I’m an abdicated offender.
I’ve been abandoned, left to die,
no one said I must comply.
Though I’ve been pushed aside
there’s nowhere I can hide.
I’m chained up, arms tied.
Full of repudiation and rejection,
I lost life’s balanced connection.
I fear the worst has come to take
my one and only mistake.
From this nightmare I must awake.
Thrown over the reverie’s shore,
taken away from those I adore.
Disowned and insanely combusted
from all those that I trusted.
Now I’m the one mistrusted.
So I must renounce and give in.
I crave atonement for my sin.
Turn myself over to cruel intentions,
death shall come with circumvention.
I pray God comes with intervention.
Fear arrives as I’m the one who runs,
though life is the one who abandons.
Abandon Contest
Brenda Chiri
June 10, 2018
There was something in the breeze on that day,
Perhaps an idea by which he was dethroned
Or rather he abdicated
And all this while he had her at arms reach though never enraptured
It was on that day he would pine for her only to capture the fading traces of a wraith.
the tears of futility rain,
on her beautiful stained frame,
color crimson runs the lines,
of the paths etched into her mind,
but it cant hurt, say those who care?
the relentless laws of pain do not spare,
a lot respect, a lost pride,
The tears that she denied
fear, ambition and passion drove,
a lust of work to a lust of love,
droplets from her eyes course down,
alas the queen abdicated her crown.
Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.
I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained?
unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.
The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words ?
Tell me, why should it happen ?
Why should ? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.
Satish Verma
The king is dead! Long live the king!
History of rulers is no different from ordinary mortals,
The crowns and kohinoors travel from one head to another uneasier head.
Emperors, Monarchs, Kings, Pharaohs abdicated
By methods natural and unnatural,
Thrones usurped, kingdoms conquered, succession relinquished,
For the joy of wealth, and its superpowers that comes in accompaniment,
And then leaving it all to turn to ruin with their own sudden deaths.
Greed, fraud, forgery, continues with its undying hunger,
Kith and kin scoffed, rebuffed and disowned from their own rights,
Temporal power is misconceived by these mortal gods,
Ethics and integrity scaled down by their unregretful smirky smiles
And then these Mammons roll on and swim in this new founded wealth,
For they know not Gods do watch them, and with one hack will level it all.
Balveen Cheema
August 20, 2015
You eager commuters
you don’t see me
in the shadows shivering
Remembering that green door and the
warm baking bread smells
A king in a pocket sprung bed
Beside my abdicated queen
And the curly haired prince who
No longer hears my song
You eager commuters
Forward looking
I alone have
Wealth and friendship
Bottle shaped
No idle chit-chat
But whispering cold comfort in my ear
and warming the broken hollows of my heart
You eager commuters
understand
This nook is not a chosen one
Not for its smells of rotting waste
or its views of shoes and hemlines
Of swiftly passing people
Averting their lofty eyes
From this pile of rag and bone
That used to be a man with house and home
Ardent death imagines a self haven
Entrance glowing by distraction
World speed redolent of circulation
Social climbers ringing out
Transposed at the gates of bounty
Advancing as far as time allows
Currents sweeping have abdicated
A constant pursuit, jury-wrangled doubt
Still born as conscience flees
Momentarily chastising of imagination's veins
Yet the future bounces back porous
Webbed across sensual speaking skulls
Life burns by nuance and gaiety
From scripted sources catalyzed
Back through redemptive fervor of chance
Every layer amassed vertically on the previous
Quintessentially abdicated from the next’s cornerstone
Upward from yet another illuminated chlorophyll-filled vascular vessel
Inspiring the growth of the next generation
Seemingly taxed at consecutive intervals
Each layer recedes like roman pilasters.
Tolling delicately to not topple the tower
Umbilical to existence,
Mother of creation is left on top.
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