Best Cabalistic Poems
I stand alone a barking tree, where silent sorrows of ripples flee,
No one hears my calamity, wearing weeps of my raped reality…
Branches droop to ice-cold ground, solitudes surface of their drowned,
Abysmal anguish of leaves have browned, lacrimal echoes of their sound.
Randomized reflections of rivers flow, suffering scourges in their woe,
Ripples raging in their row, creating cabalistic contrasts as they grow…
The forest dense as to populate, the seeds of seduction must copulate,
All is dormant until the eyes dilate, weeping willows that magistrate.
I accept my life near the lamenting lake, weathering wounds as I wake,
The wood whispers as to ache, secluded shadows share the snake…
Wandering waters that ripples bring, vines that struggle in their swing,
Alone in my salvaged spring, where sparrows segregate in their sing.
Gif # 1
02.25.2020
Placed 1'st & POTD...Thank You
A euphoric emptiness that lasts forever
An eternity trapped in tangled time
Emotions that fly through the nilpotent never
A lasting love with a calamitous climb
Floating memories that sail through space
Where tears are shed and shadows weep
And saddened souls have lost their place
Within the dumpsters of the desolate deep
Mind and matter creating crystalline hells
There demons roam with a restless rule
Where blood turns cold with crusted cells
Slowly salivating with their demonic drool
Can love be found in this cabalistic cave
Or is it laboriously lost but only to enslave.
May.30.2016
Remain hidden from me the uncertainties of tomorrow,
Whether I’ll have enough or shall be forced to borrow;
Whether it shall hatch the pregnant egg of dreams
Or shall remain hidden from me its cabalistic themes.
I fear not the unknown prospect of disaster,
Whether they slow in their coming or race faster;
Ordain upon me eternal bliss of things beyond my ken,
Whether it shall reward my adroit pen
Or shall be swept to perdition before its ink pays,
To mark the end of my sorrowful days.
Tomorrow, the best for you I do hope,
With you I’ll endeavor to cope.
Once in a blue moon, in the circuit of the cryptic sky appears the transcendental fusion,
when the acquiescence of the sky emerges to display two heavenly bodies most exotic phases of union.
On those, mesmerizing venerated nights, the new moon and the wolf moon in juxtaposition,
supercede the perceived notion of eclipses; when the earth's shadow devours the pearly moon, its unparalleled companion!
Contrary to the credence, they recline and mingle, into one in secret paranormal amalgamation!
At that spectacular moment, the blood of the luna oozes, turns scarlet,
and the venerated Full Moon turns into Blood Moon in unison:
when the earth's umbra covers the moon in its arms, passionately to hide pains of her bunion!
They have clandestine agreement, beyond the mortal comprehension to fathom their cabalistic union!
Although, once in a blue moon, even the cynical corporals,
turn fortunate to witness the epochal communion!
Deluded and hypnotised, they come out with their finite, shallow persuasions!
Even waning, the luna in all her immaculate purity, maneuvers the blue planet, her matchless companion
in various alluring phases, in exuberant magnificent manifestations!
Those rarest phases in rotation connotes their cryptic indulgences in culmination!
The momentum of the earth-moon collision forms curious rarefied condensation,
causes in its beloved's bosom, the tidal ridges, the ebb and flow, a unique phenomenon!
When the luna grows from New Moon to Waxing Crescent, whispering the earth to cast its beams for illumination
in diverse evolving phases from Crescent, First Quarter Waxing Gibbous, Full Moon, Waning Gibbous, Last Quarter, Waning Crescent to the New Moon,
both the celestial- bodies embrace each other
in variant robes of orientations!
Their hide and seek, merging enigma, provokes the lunatics for musing bardic explorations;
as once in a blue moon merges the peerless pens to extol,
the unfathomed metamorphosis of earth-luna's metaphysical communion!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
It is night yet in the West
and the planes land between listlessly burning tarmac lamps
stealthy fingers scurrying through diadems of neons halogens and amber
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
The cowherds’ bare blistered feet already trample yesterday’s dust into mud
and cartwheels strain in crusted fissures where rains fell only once or twice
while dreams fester in cosy centrally-heated silken beds in luxury flats
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Tomorrow is yesteryear’s planned strikes
buses trains taxis office machines lie soundlessly asleep
and will not wake until the battle over psychic comfort comes to an end
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
For You there is no respite no pause
no tea-breaks with cheese biscuits or croissants
there’s only the last container to crane over the dock in unpaid overtime
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Your eyes will hurt in the twilight’s hazy glimmer
no time to brush your teeth nor shave in hot and cold running water
nor the right to flush a toilet nor heedlessly course through in cosy tubes to work
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
The sirens rave through boulevards in broad night-light
rushing hypertensic cardiac cases from their delight-full beds
cholestrol and diabetic cane sugar within reach of every child in supermarkets
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Let those who succeeded their former masters
sip their sweet sweatless porto before the hors-d’oeuvres
and flap their tabliers hiding their secret shame under cabalistic arms
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Wake! there’s little time left for your own bickering differences to fester
the dawn signals the tasks that lie ahead unfinished
and the carrion hunters trained in their old master’s image club together
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
(Continued in Part One - 2)
Byword
(I)
Tittle tattle tales rattle.
Cabalistic cabals in cans:
Malicious mélange of melees.
Mummers murmur, mumchance mumble.
Mummichog: the perfidious Fundulus heteroclitus-
For this parlance is pestilence:
For your words, for their words,
For your walls, for their walls.
But for their worlds, for your worth.
(II)
Malicious mischief shrouds in mesmerism,
Whilst her malignity molds she forgot unfold.
But the morbid medalled she, instead to merge,
Maintains calumnies, which not calmative in anyway.
Mummichog: the perfidious Fundulus heteroclitus-
For this parlance is pestilence:
For your words, for their words,
For your walls, for their walls.
But for their worlds, for your worth.
(III)
A candid parley and caring suits…
Indeed better parallel match -no losers, all winners-
For cases in conformity and un-confound.
That’s peace, that’s reign, to just justice of the peace.
Mummichog: the perfidious Fundulus heteroclitus-
For this parlance is pestilence:
For your words, for their words,
For your walls, for their walls.
But for their worlds, for your worth.
14/3/1434 ___15/1/2014
©Abdulhafeez Oyewole.
Another simpleton in this aimless lunacy
Narcotic this reality is imbibed with but so much i love this narcomania
Occassionally Odious to myself but more so to those i love
Ugly or pretty it does depend on your opinion, to myself just gorgeous
Cabalistic, mystic, unrealistic even spiritual is my altruistic life
Hachalia truly i am but Hananeel i consider your awesome mercy
Eagerness i display to the coming times when your love will make me an immortal
Karezza is the way i will please you who are a killcrop when my love is concerned; our
Adoration is mutual; me i worship your essence and you my ignorance
Systemic symmetries of destruction,
gorging with thoughtless consumption…
Within the bowls of corruption,
enslaved by the sanguinary skins of seduction…
Butterflies bloom to demonic deeds,
of the feeding frenzy that surely bleeds…
Voices that spread their saintly seeds,
only entrapped within wrangled weeds.
Fake media the soup of the day,
cabalistic constructing illusions they portray…
While the appetites of the abysm display,
as the deceptive delusions foreplay…
Habitual hunger that they manifest,
of the manic misconceptions we ingest…
For we suckle on the beastly breast,
as they occupy the obedient oppressed.
Jan.04.2019
Food for thought
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
The whips of smoke was thickly spiraled all over my face,
I stood at the shrine, rather the church,
The eerie and somber silence within the cave scourged me,
As the nocturnal owls spoke cabalistic monologues,
Ushering in a hint of death in the icy breath of the gale.
In the dead of the night, the ornery birds quiesced,
Suddenly, the cry of a mysterious cat tore through the air,
And died after a second or third shrill meow.
Amid the direful calamities of the time,
And in a weird world of morbid horrors,
I just prayed to die, but I didn’t.
As if by a magic, the owl disappeared,
And a balding vulture surfaced on a tree branch,
Its eyes glowed in the dark like a halogen lamp,
As the hands of time ticks,
It moved closer to my expiring frame,
Ready to devour every flesh attached to my trembling bones.
Many throats have been slashed in this evil forest,
Lineations of gushing bloods whirled round my troubled soul,
My heart asserted itself again, thunderously beating,
As my whole frame seemed collapsed and shrinking,
Hope was just far and dim,
As I watched the seventh victim being dissected with a machete,
And his life hurriedly detached.
Now, trussed up and dumped on a heap of human skulls and skeletons,
To be sacrificed to a blood-tasty deity,
The chains on my neck and hands almost suffocated me,
Time was just still with fathomless blackness,
Leaving me to sing lustily as if to exorcise the demon of gloom,
Alas, a monstrous figure appeared with an axe and sword.
Her stare on me lasted and later dissolved,
That was undoubtedly an awful and implacable approach of doom.
My helpless and defenseless body became more coldish and clammy,
Struck dumb with strange astound,
She smiled disarmingly and stepped towards me,
And said “Thou precious and guiltless Nigerian blood,
Go home, build and rule your world while I die for you”.
I woke up, it was just a nightmare full of messages.
Ribbons of light rained down tonight,
From a moonless, inky sky.
So bright they were as they blew about,
So near and yet so high.
I watched transfixed in wonderment,
As they twisted and billowed out,
And wondered at their merriment,
As they glowed and danced about.
I'm stricken by mystical beauty,
As they writhe across the sky;
Twisting, turning, shooting, churning,
As through the night they fly.
They seem to be a living thing,
At play in the midnight blue;
In a cabalistic ocean,
Of deepest, darkest hue;
Bringing out their colors,
Like a rainbow come alive,
And I'm so blessed to see them,
As they bend and twist and dive.
The wonders of God's handiwork,
Nature at it's best,
Is shown to me when we're alone,
And I'm My Maker's guest.
Judy Ball
"Then God said, 'Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years."
Genesis 1:14
And It Was So.
keen orphic reader
cabalistic tendencies
mystical and keen
enigmatic strong
a master of the occult
lively prophecies
Who will try to comprehend?
Appreciate the moon’s character
She is hushed, quite soundless
Inept to express her frame of mind
Through the paper and the pen…
But she envisions us her spirits
In the form of vivid sunspecs,
Different contours and diverse chapters.
She is vibrant
With all the monumental voyages;
The children stories we heard
Made us wrathful, left us wondering
About her cabalistic charm
Supernatural world
No less than that of Harry Potter’s
Her secret, the dark side
Not discernible to us has now been uncovered
Evasive of all the truth
About the enigmas of the moon
But will the moon approve
Will the moon approve?