Mellow mantras,
daub my ear,
with rapt sultry
opal peals,
whilst entwining,
seamless sheath,
of aural vista,
whose magic wand,
sedates yet enthusiast,
of this morning nomad,
whose quixotic quill,
aches for ardent dawn,
to tranquilize meandering,
muse off target,
focus on,
aurora spectrum,
day-peep pageant,
of pristine pink,
demure aligned,
sun horizon hover,
gliding gold wisps,
fleeting blue ray,
chimera or mood swing,
dalliance of dust grain,
as I allude to,
gleaming dewdrops,
In lofty lyric,
prompt from,
green leaf rustle,
or grey twig tweak,
silver stream murmur,
moist babble of,
hushed hints,
rush and ripple,
froth rimmed swirl,
vapour vortices visceral,
whet my creative juice,
from lucent pools,
can I imagine,
wondrous tactile trails
What is it I seek, you ask?
Love … that dares to grow aside
Between two transformations,
Choosing to walk with each other
I long for something like this, do you?
What do I want, you ask?
Love… that grows old in peace,
where we break bread over every morning tea,
Definitely not the kind that grows apart in comfort
leaving you to a brink of thee; Don’t you ?
What do I hope, you ask?
Love that agrees to stand;
And doesn’t cease in dark
It shields while you grieve and re-build
I long for something like that, do you?
What do I wish, you ask?
Souls resurrect many times in one life
Real love stays in kindness and holds the space
Doesn’t shame, control or mold you,
And never leaving you to wander in a bond for two,
I wish this love upon you, I hope you do too!
Aroma of warmth, Aha! A cup of tea
Brewing romance, Yes, it's bittersweet.
Cheers of tranquility soak in solace
Darjeeling dreams, in Assam serene.
Ecstasy infused, our senses relaxed
Family and friends, bond captivated.
Golden or black, it's a drink just divine
Have a cup of Tea...and all gets fine!
Induces a mood, adventures unwind
Jingling china cups, in morning time.
Kettle whistles, bubbling with steam
Loose tea leaves in hot water swim
Melting sugar in lemon and honey.
Night jasmine, or chamomile flavour?
Oasis in summer, green tea is amber,
Picnic reverie, A fireside tea in winter.
Quiet thoughts to sedate the beverage
Rainy afternoons, cookies get drenched
Solace of caffeine blend creamy cakes
Taste delicious, evanescent moments
Under crushed cardamom is sober joy,
Valentine kiss: thou tea-cup you're mine
Wrap of the elixir slows our fast mood,
Xanadu magic! the hot and cold allude
Yin and Yang stirring in balanced hold.
Zest of life is Tea Time...layers unfold.
plugging energy leak
we see we’re strong not weak
the ‘we’ we allude to
is bliss that does renew
pervading every cell
in this body-mind shell
so as God’s magnetism
in this organic prism
as bliss beats take the lead
fears and desires recede
thus we become the flame
here now in life’s end game
Most often we misthought,
yet understood
The bitter truth
that nothing here is good
Our earthly life,
of reason is unbrewed
That hides the pain
and hurt which we allude
This root of gall
becomes my daily food
And eat the fruit
that turns my bowels crude
My tongue was fooled
by that which could not soothe
For I did swallow
more than I had chewed
For this I stumbled
and became most rude
I was offended
like the multitude
And though my mind
is calloused, I construed
His chastening rod
is made of tender wood
And ceases not until
it breaks for good
A wormwood changed
my bitter attitude
The queen of the night,
You give the night its light,
Surrounded by your princesses,
The sky is an enchanting frame,
We allude its glory to you, oh dame.
The mystery of the night sky,
Imaginations leave their chambers and fly,
The joy of the night watchers,
They sing songs of praise to your resilience,
Finding a depth in your silence.
The pleasure of the sages,
You aid them to turn the mystery’s pages,
And we walk this path of understanding,
Their sayings from days of old,
Have made us wise and bold.
The lamp of the evening glow,
Tales were spun in twilight shadows years ago,
You retreat to your chamber,
And we embrace a new day,
Time goes this way until we’re grey.
January 2, 2024.
There must be a way to enjoy Christmas Day
But not fill my belly with food
Most years I eat till I’m fit to explode
But this year I’m not in the mood
My wife said she thought I might like a hot sausage
Which sounded a little bit rude
She said, “Just try this, it’s so warm and inviting.”
I said, “Now you’re just being crude.”
Impatiently huffing, she suggested stuffing
It seems that my wife is quite lewd
She asked if I fancied some leg or some breast
I kept schtum, which I thought might be shrewd
I gave in and asked for a nice fruity tart…”
And she yelled, “To what do you allude?”
I said, like a chump, “Okay, give me some rump.”
And frankly, I knew I was screwed!
THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH
‘Twas ten virgins of willing heart
That went with joy and merry soul
To meet the groom with loving mirth
That the union will make them whole
But behold they were torn in twain
A part thereof was meshed in sloth
While the other set for the rain
So in due time they shall move forth
Now these twin parts do here allude
The minds of mankind in this world;
While part in vanity abide
The other in Spirit are walled
And so when the trumpet did sound
The one in sloth abide strayed yet
They in Spirit holding their ground
Answered the call of the trumpet.
--- Victorious Vincent 120018122011.
It's here
I dump my thoughtful odes
The words unchecked
As brain downloads
This snow white
Electric paper faux
Is where my heart-felt
Ravings go
I tap, delete
I type and scroll
Construct a rhyme
Pithy and droll
The black on ivory
Stark and crude
To deeper feelings
Will allude
So as this self
Effacing track
Develops with it's
Clicky clack
I meditate
On all before
Invite them in
As if by door
To life and love
To hope and loss
To friendships, new
To birth or cross
With thankful heart
And no disdane
For poet's muse
Doth still remain
April decorates emerald Nature
with an unexpected snowy festivity
that resembles a season so wintry;
will the warm snow drift offshore?
it's a big thrill at the start of this awaited spring,
will it kill all the little buds that are a living thing?
Will the spotted-winged thrushes delude the bridegroom?
Who's more afraid than him to feel an improvised doom?
Not everybody thinks that a snowy festivity
can surprise and allude to the winter's beauty
already forgotten by the worries of the day;
they wish is to see light, not a sky so grey!
And to their utter discontent, stormy clouds gather,
then a roaring thunder explodes above their heads...
bringing showers to wash the distress off their faces:
they understand that hopelessness is useless fear!
We struggle to find peace in the collective
because we're in pieces as a whole
This fragmentation is unnatural & we're
at war with the divisive
No matter how you slice it us coming together
should be the goal
The pie in the sky is a sweet dream & those
that eat are decisive
Look to your mind for the answers for in its
eye are the solutions
The confusion is by design for in disarray
we are conquered
Know that ideas design things & are the
beginning of conclusions
Nothing exists without them for they're seeds
of all that is fathered
Don't be bothered by appearances as many
of those are illusions
I allude to this for a reason because many are
easy to deceive
Every piece is important to the pattern in a
world that was built on collusion
The puzzling truth is playing out but many
are reluctant to concede
Blight the clouds lowly dispirited feigns,
Despite these regards there belies the shrouds,
In height uncovers the misplaced reclaims,
Ignite, blameless drives of a dove in clouds.
In measured distance or that of life's span,
Of treasured reflections as fawning dawns,
A feathered friend that needs a shepherd's hand,
Unfettered airiness descends chiffons.
An aloof crowned hall grows ever grandeur,
Shall allude facts of dire circumstances,
Can assume, beasts of burden, not dirt-poor,
Ample proof, a slanted roof, mischances.
Grounds, telltale's a flap, wingless warrior,
Sounds, fled coos, eyes unreachable love,
Downs of feathers white o'er once courier,
Pounds the ceaseless cease ... flights anew born dove.
false is each concept we cling to
conditioned by culture based belief
discarding then each vicarious knowing
dwelling in staid silence let’s turn a new leaf
to which delusion ego-held should we allude
we are not even this mind-body identity
made in God’s form, we’re living light
the form is but a transient entity
driven by instinct, in deep stupor
flitting about betwixt objects of desire
we tragically trauma bond with shadows
oscillating between pain and joy until we tire
trapped by myriad illusions we are free within
thus dwelling in tranquil silence is the key
whence in stillness the false falls away
and in our luminosity we stand free
He used to be a hoarder of clues
would keep them in a mind-binder.
Imagine the surprise
when all the clues turned into blank pages
It happens,
a person has a thousand ways
to figure out this world.
He thought he saw some patterns
in this messy conundrum of reality
He had conjectured – had formed workable theories
had constructed reasonable solutions for all the big puzzles
that bewildered and bedeviled other folks.
Then poof….all his clues became unglued.
Now he knows nothing for sure
He tries to write
about all the clues he once had
but he has lost faith in clues
especially missing clues,
even when they seem to hint at answers
point to explanations or breakthroughs
or allude to a better understanding,
one as clear as daylight perhaps -
not even.
He doesn’t trust the clear light of day either
but wonders now
what that light is hiding?
my poems might be best
for writing they will arrest
too hard to digest
saw poems on my lap
which may create a mishap
must fill in the gap
to show poems trying
many of them are supplying
you could be crying
poems are exquisite
read them when paper visit
or might have missed it
need an exhibit
newspaper will prohibit
write them have to quit
to this will allude
at convention can be crude
tongues exude and protrude
after taking pause
there will be a Santa Klaus
which we read in clause
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