broken promises
expectation belied
heart feels anguish
for we have been to lied
double think deceit
where lies the fault line
to aggrandise ego
did not love for love pine
if earth life be a play
by God scripted
is not our consciousness
by each encounter uplifted
some hands hurt us
whilst others heal
why then are we not vibrant
at each point on the Ferris wheel
when someone tells a lie
why is our eye judgmental
to propel our soul’s growth
was not the wound instrumental
after betrayal we forgive
only for self-healing
instead offer loving embrace
invoking God’s grace appealing
oh worthy hermit
rise above the mundane
know we are spirit not form
let love and light reign
Oh, where did all the beauty go?
Left in fluffy, white, wintry snow?
Or is it in some springtime gaze?
Ah, misty mornings, dewy haze!
Does it live in the skies we see,
the wonder of what life can be?
Searching and musing all the while
attic rooting through each dust pile.
Hearing songs in the distant air
rushing to places that just aren't there.
In fields full of lovely flowers
we pine away long, lonely hours;
then glance inside, down dark within
where all these thoughts we think begin.
Hoping to find a speck of awe
but nothing's there awake at all.
How dare it try to disappear!
When beauty's gone, we're left in fear.
Exhausted minds must grasp what's calm,
now look right here, it's in your palm.
outcome belied
we’ve been lied to
trust died that day
Take the blue pill
and set your watch
Tell her it’s coming
libido recaught
(but)
Where is the magic
the moment belied
The thrill of the chase
— and hearing her sigh
(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)
I climbed in bed
to wait for death
the past
a fleeting memory
I pled the case
in my defense
whose verdict
found me guilty
My sentence cast
without appeal
a victim of
my trials
Alone to die
in hope belied
my condemnation
— final
(The New Room: January, 2026)
lengthened morning light
harvesting fire hued leaves -
belied promises
Her winsome smile belied her secret essence
A temptress and siren
Given to saturnine quintessence
And I a man of placid and calm complexion
Became ever more umbrageous
With each stranger she offered affection
Ciara Cybelle chose to take her chances
Unconcerned by my mood
Continued her frenzied romances
She swooned at my charm
And laughed at my wit
And yet held to another man’s arm
Ciara Cybelle a nymph out of hell
Twisting a man
With her temptress spell
I had to make her understand
She simply had to see
I must be her only man
But Ciara Cybelle laughed instead
Eyes flashing fire
She brazenly said
The likes of me would never know
The deliciousness
Of the charms she would bestow
On other men she found fairer
Then in a rage
I struck in blind error
And carefree Ciara Cybelle
Lay shattered and still
At my feet where she fell
To the dark waters I fed
The alabaster body
Of Ciara Cybelle dead
Now benthic stillness of cimmerian depths
Disturbed by the pale lifeless limbs
Of Ciara Cybelle
Now tumescent and water pruned
The once sempiternal beauty
Forever ruined
________________
Heroine content with her beloved’s
love, affection and dedication,
one with her own mind.
____________________
Heard had I tales of male malefaction
By and large true, far from fiction,
As happens oft, one out to prey
Gets hunted O to be the prey.
Full of hopes I’m your spouse,
Not filled with any grouse,
For, you my love belied this old wisdom,
I’ve been a free bird in your kingdom--
A truth that needs no proof,
Nor display from a tallest roof.
Lifelong shall ye be my temple’s deity,
We shall be together for life
Lived forever and rife
If not for eternity.
_______________________
Natya Shastra |08.02.2025| Free verse,
Note: This is eighth of Ashta-Nayikas, eight heroine types, as classified in a Sanskrit treatise on performing arts in Bharata’s Natya-Shastra. The state (avastha) of the eight romantic heroines widely themed in Indian paintings, literature, sculpture, classical dance forms and music. Swadhina-bhatruka is the eighth of the eight such heroines depicted here in poetic form.
“She knows everything about everyone. That's why her hair is so big. It's full of secrets.”
~ Quote from ‘Mean Girls’ (2004)
Secrets in the locks of love
she knew everything true,
well, sort of,
as true as any gossip could bring.
Plastic rollers, as useless as her friends,
curled from her lips in hateful sprout
and spewed vile comments from her mouth.
She grabbed the secrets of others and shared them.
She didn’t mind her tangled ends belied her credibility.
Curling her mind around the struggle,
when all was said and ends began to fray,
it was she who brushed the cares away that day.
belied expectations
caused feeling of hurt
inability to let go
made resentment spurt
the earth rotated
and seasons changed
but the ego-mind
remained deranged
reinforced by thought
suffering amplified
soul’s light within heart
seemed to have died
the witch doctor
offered a cure
choose cessation
and make heart pure
stagnation is death
flow like the breeze
sensations any
embrace and release
what causes shadows
that opaques light
ego is the blockage
which diminishes delight
first forgiveness
a Ho’oponopono prayer
then acceptance
spake the soothsayer
the bubble of anger
burst noiselessly in the void
soul’s light was revealed
pure and unalloyed
Perpetual pain palliated by loving hands
ever lingering under bandaged wounds;
fetted rot tucked under perfumed blanket.
Covered is the massing doubt, ever growing,
Smothered; thoughts transient as dreams.
To hide quaking mask of broken memory.
Running. Inevitable is the spreading.
Infectious and living pain.
Soothing notes of warmer days erupt,
cursed by twisted mouth, death belied.
Of the body, it’s bones and sinews,
it’s blackened organs and sunken eyes.
But of the soul, of the hidden things.
Of promised dreams and unspoken hopes,
corrupted and lost forever.
observing tension build up
within mind-body apparatus
the root cause being attachment
to a desired outcome sought by ego
which when belied causes concern
so recognising thus our delusion
we pause the cause of thought
laying ego cravings to rest
had we not opted to enter trance
heart contractions would not arise
and we’d have been denied immersion
in the labyrinths of dungeons of darkness
so we celebrate moments of anguish
yet take care to remain mindful
to rebound to reality swiftly
He appeared to be a mere, callow boy,
Beautiful, strange, exotic, enchanting,
But he was, he said, a king, and he'd traveled very far
Over time, and land, and sea in search of me.
His glance was diffident and shy,
But with a trace of ancient sadness
That belied the ageless wisdom in his melancholy eyes.
That magic day he found me
My soul was adrift, feeling lost and alone,
And closed to love I'd never known.
Arm in arm we walked and talked
Of pundits, and poets, and beggars, and kings,
And lots of other worldly things.
Then he turned to me and gently said, this king,
"Here's the gift I came to bring:
The truest thing you'll ever learn,
Allow yourself to love, and you'll be loved in return."
I listened to what he had to say,
Then I unlocked my heart that day
And felt his prophecy come true
As love rushed in and brought me you.
Our heart is where desires arise
and where they are in time resolved
but since we cling to wisps of smoke,
we remain in our dreams involved.
Seeking love that soul may expand,
causes suffering since we seek,
whilst if we embrace and release,
monk mode plugs the energy leak.
Ego has objectified love,
reducing it to an exchange,
so when the echo returns not,
we feel morbid contractions strange.
Belied expectation breaks hearts,
destiny delusion foretold,
so it’s best to be void centric,
inking heart with love hues of gold.
True joy that does not come and go,
throbs within us as vibrant bliss,
at an octave of agape love,
bestowed by Divine Mother’s kiss.
Grazed by spirit, our heart is healed,
never to be broken again,
for we see this life is but play
and pristine soul is free from stain.
Hark bliss beats call to one and all,
as God’s sublime effervescence,
which is mirrored in every heart;
light eternal, our quintessence.
Egocentric, engaged in games of one-upmanship
I developed a jaundiced and judgmental eye
Over time, losing over mind-body my grip
Belied expectations oft made heart sigh
My reflex response was to put others down
Mocking both the living and dead, saw love die
Lines on face hardened, sarcasm bore a frown
Demonic dreams deepened my dark despair
In images thus conjured, I began to drown
It was a Joro spider that made me aware
When a small sunbird was caught in its net
Defying base instinct, it released her with care
I took this as a message to change my mindset
Enabled simply by melding head with heart
Taking no more, mere rebuffs as a threat
I now mock myself; it is a learnt art
Choosing slow consciousness correction
Simply mindfully and gently, adding love to cart
Soul centric introspection cajoles us to shift direction
Igniting bliss within, paving way for soul’s resurrection
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