Vintage vinyl our rare groover
Let’s toast this goalpost mover
No boast our third man hoover
Arcane host Kane a soul soother
Again our stain and pain remover
Pledges to make edges smoother
He’s our medieval cathedral louver
Trained so hard.. a self improver
Was a "when in Rome" approver
An ascetic tome like Martin Luther
Now depart for T20 in Vancouver?
Huge heart is part of his oeuvre
Another behind cover manoeuvre
Find his art at home in the Louvre
Written: May 31, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Sara Kendrick
Quote: "Longevity is not just the accumulation of shadows, but the slow, relentless design of light—where the soul learns to admire the skies." By Poet
8th place contest winner
Years of silence drift in shadow’s hold,
yet life’s glow cuts a furrow bold.
Ascetic patience mollifies time’s tide,
stringent suns succumb, shadows subside.
From a thick nucleus of recall, lyric streams,
etiology carved in incarnate dreams.
Furious storms rage, but sagacious roots remain,
visceral awe gleams through longevity’s pain.
A lingering oracle, sanctuary of grace,
fading walls surrender a sobbing face.
Even barren sand yields to mettle’s rule,
velvet dusk relieves the waning fuel.
And yet the human heart, steadfast and wide,
bears its banner forth—unswayed stride.
“He who has seen his true Self, which is innate, unborn, and incomprehensible, does not, if anything desired happens to him, become tainted. Being free from taint, he never performs any action. The man of self-restraint or the ascetic, therefore, is never bound.”
As one without a second, outside space-time,
as pure living light, we mirror God’s heartbeat,
at peace in the vast void betwixt bliss beat’s chime,
poised thus for eternity, feeling complete.
Complete freedom epitomises our state,
as divine light whose lustre does not abate,
ego cravings having been long since exhumed,
that breath by breath bliss ignition is resumed.
Whenever I see a crescent moon phase,
I picture the crescent crowned on His hair,
For He clears my mind when it is in a haze,
As I chant to Him, Mahadev who's so fair.
Whenever I see the big open blue sky,
I picture the beautiful blue hue of His skin,
For when He appears I'll know it is not a lie,
As I chant, I shall recall my divinity within.
Whenever I see a deep and very still lake,
I picture Him in His ascetic state meditating,
For He has the deepest mind for our sake,
As I chant to Him, I too begin ascending.
Whenever I see anyone's genuine smile,
I picture Him and His serenely content face,
For He brings me joy for longer than a while.
As I chant, I see life's something to embrace.
Every moment gave me butterflies yes it did,
And I hope from the gaze of jealous gods our love we had hid.
There was light cuz you were there,
Now i wander like an ascetic unbeknownst to end up where.
Now grief clings to me like rife,
Maybe we will meet again my love in another life, Maybe in another life.
Even silence has a voice now that you are gone,
I still sit there from where we gazed at new dawns.
My darling you promised you'd stay,
Then please stop this bruising play.
I slept with your name tucked under my tongue,
As i was tearfully lulled by the melodies you had sung.
How can I ever move on,
Cuz You left with my soul and heart that you won.
You touched me like a prayer, unsure if i'd break,
But how can i explain that i only lived for your sake.
I hate you cuz you left with your memories deeply engraved,
But I remember that smile of yours and I forget i was ever enraged.
Maybe we’ll meet again in another life,
Where my memories weren’t the only ones
Drenched in your strife.
Maybe in another life, my darling —
Yes… maybe in another life.
ascetic
monk cloistered in isle
searching light
through prayer
freed from world’s cacophonies
for his inner peace
Contest Title: Spin A Shadorma Contest
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: June 5, 2025 6.29am
Charming cheerful chemist chummy classic clement capacious
Aesthetic affable agile alchemist alert ambitious ascetic
Terrific teacher thankful thoughtful tranquil trusty telepathic
* I love cats :)
* Acrostic Agility Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Oliver Mckeithan.
Didn’t eat the winter morning
Flying far away the dews are
The sun has come but I am in a drowsy mood
Full of confetti in the bedroom
Living waters playing in the bathtub
The shadows are whispering with the dead walls
Nomadic breeze on the roof of illustrious breathing
Inhale and exhale- crawling on the upstairs
No sky over the visions of the sole dream
Illusions are leading the ideal ego
Ascetic roots in the maple's kinship
Glittering gold covers the envelope
Flapping window wings with songs of Amoretti
Discovers the pine tree a couple of yellow teenage
Marbled monastery summons beneath the purple hills
Through the laurel wood, I wake up and grasp
A dead soul.
© Mahtab Bangalee
29th January, 2025
Chattogram
Blue eyes
The beads seller
Snatches the heart of love
Girl of the Ascetic Kumbh Fair
Warmly
©Mahtab Bangalee
‘I’m a failed Muslim.
I drink raki now,’ he says.
A bottle twinkles
on the upturned orange box.
On the unmade bed,
a punch-drunk pillow
lurches in a sea of ruptured quilts.
‘I never pray,’ he adds,
as hawk-eyed Ataturk
retreats to an ascetic frame
and glowers at the room.
And we who are too precious
to confess our faults
feel awkward in the silence.
Turkey, 1990
First published in Blue Minaret
Buddha; the awakened one,
had everything he wanted.
Born in Lumbini,
to royal parents.
One day he left
his life as a wandering ascetic.
While one of his journeys
World, all in slumber
Buddha was sitting, in long meditation
Santa came knocking
With a hearty “Ho Ho Ho,”
Merry Christmas.
Buddha, what do you want for Christmas?
You’ve been good to all.
“I don't need too much of nothing.”
at the doctor's
There are days when I feel bereft of the people I knew
are all dead and no one is coming to take their place
there is a sense that I'm a waterlogged tree floating
in a sullied inland lake where bathing is prohibited
my nights are full of ghosts from the past visiting
when not awakened by nerve pains traveling up and
down my legs and the burning sensation telling of
the eternal flames of hell
I'm sitting at the diabetic doctor's office complaining
about the depression of pain I suffer at night
the man has an ascetic face, a real doctor, not a product
of a mother's wish to have a son with the title DR
You are keeping your sugar level well-balanced
which is good, your weight is right! (at this point
I pull my stomach in
As for your discomfort, you have to see this as a part
of your illness, I think he calls my pain DISCOMFORT!
He prescribes prescription for Insulin pens and tells
me my blood pressure is perfect, with that he sends
me away with a friendly slap on my sagging shoulder
One may well in one swift motion
Snatch a jewel from crocodile jaws,
May swim across a vast ocean
Gone stormy what with giant bows,
Can well fight with a furious snake
And wrap it like garland ‘round neck,
But scarce can please a proven fool,
How so well-schooled he’s, how so cool.
_______________________
Translation | | please, fool
Poet’s Note: Bhartruhari was a poet king in central India in the seventh century CE, who when disillusioned in love renounced kingdom and became an ascetic. Neeti Shatakam, a compilation of hundred verses on moral values was written by him along with Shringar Shatakam on romance, and Vairagya Shatakam on dispassion and renunciation. This verse on fools is taken from Neeti Shatakam.
Prasahya manim uddharet makara-vaktra danshtran
Ankurat samudram api san-taret prachalat urmi malakulam |
Bhujangam api kopitam shirasi pushpavat dharayet
Na tu prati-nivishta murkha jana chittam aradhayet || 4 || Metre: Prthvi-vrtta
Easy to please an ignorant,
Easier still, man of talent,
But too hard ‘tis a call
To please half-baked know all,
Whom, even gods of heaven can’t.
_______________________
Translation | | please, ignorant, intelligent
Poet’s Note: Bhartruhari was a poet king in central India in the seventh century CE, who when disillusioned in love renounced kingdom and became an ascetic. Neeti Shatakam, a compilation of hundred verses on moral values was written by him along with Shringar Shatakam on romance, and Vairagya Shatakam on dispassion and renunciation. This verse on fools is taken from Neeti Shatakam.
Ajnyah sukham aradhyah sukhataram aradhyate visheshajnyah |
Jnyana-lava-durvigdham brahma api naram na ranjayati || 3 || Metre: Arya
Men of learning mired are in envy,
Those of influence, proud and haughty,
As rest are ignorant,
My poems have gone gaunt,
Untold, unread, old and weary.
___________________
Translation | | poet, poem
Poet’s Note: Bhartruhari was a poet king in central India in the seventh century CE, who when disillusioned in love renounced kingdom and became an ascetic. Neeti Shatakam, a compilation of hundred verses on moral values was written by him along with Shringar Shatakam on romance, and Vairagya Shatakam on dispassion and renunciation. This verse is taken from Neeti Shatakam. It seems, even in these olden times, poetry suffered from the same fate as now--getting old unread.
Boddharah matsara-grastah prabhavah smaya-dushitah |
Abodha-upahatah cha anye jirnam ange subhashitam || 2 || Meter: Anushtup
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