Best Charioteer Poems
Patience
Is the wise charioteer that holds the bridles of the impetus
For
To guide us safely over the hurdles of recklessness and haste!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 April 2021
* I would like to thank all of my friends who visit and comment, as well as the officials responsible for the honor of POTD bestowed! Blessings!
REASON
“…For what is seen is temporary,
but what I see is eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:18
-
-
Oh, Reason,
You wise charioteer of
Our senses,
Firmly into your
Hands hold my
Perception’s bridle
And guide my galloping
Insight
Onto the veiled
Path of reality that,
Among myriad trails of
Phenomena unfolds
Undetected by my corporeal
Eyes.
I beg you, oh reason, to
Steer my understanding
Towards the ethereal heavens
So
My mind would be able to
Get a glimpse of the
ETERNAL!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
31 January 2013
Helmet like a bean
Chucks of purple, yellow and green
Segway on the seen
Face the west.
Face the stone and turn your back on your chains.
A wraith you arrived, but now life overflows with every ragged breath.
Let your heart brim with resolve, your eyes with the mountain and wake from the dream.
Your legs be your escape, fill them with your ambition.
Bend the world on it’s side with your will and ascend Jacob’s Ladder.
Gently kindle the cold flame of fear to lend your hand a mighty aspect, and squeeze life itself from the ancient stone.
A hold secure -- your anchor to the living, relinquished reluctantly for another a little further up.
Ascend till the mountain speaks: "No higher can I bear you mortal." "Take your prize and share this lonely view with me awhile."
Pride swells as the turn of your head commands reality's scope.
This is your Triumph.
The summit -- your chariot.
The wind -- your anthem.
The mountain -- your charioteer, whispers: "Memento Mori."
A few moments of freedom and then like the doppleganger of all western heroes, face the east, turn your back to the setting sun and descend.
The journey is only half finished. Bear out your exhausted dounemount to it's conclusion and reluctantly leave the land of the living.
Home is a place you can only visit between your slumbers.
God preserve me in my sleep that I might wake once more.
Modern day charioteer
Segways are easy to steer
No emissions here
I suppose since time immemorial - Dads have provided tutorial,
Doing their best to strive - To teach their kids how to drive.
Though Dads were never all that keen - Kids pestered him once a teen,
To drive the old family sedan - To get a license as soon as they can!
Noah no doubt taught son Ham - To steer the Ark for his driver's exam.
Even with practice in this and that - He managed to bump into Mount Ararat!
Roman lads were shown how to steer - By Papa the fearless charioteer.
How Papa cried, "Oh, mama mia!" - As son raced up and down the via!
When the horse and buggy became the rage - Junior was quick to engage,
Pa into showing him all the glitches - To avoid upsetting in the ditches!
Then along came the Model-T Ford - With all the latest gadgets aboard.
Son crowed that he could drive - He hit a sturdy oak - he's lucky to be alive!
Today with more stringent rules - Driver's education is offered in schools.
But to ensure they're taught the rudiments - And other basic elements,
Dads with tight jaws drive around town - Trying to get their kid to slow down,
Dads suffer through driving sessions - Trying to stifle their kid's agressions!
Pa looses lots of colorful speech - As Junior brakes to a smoking screech.
His head meets the windshield - Thinking his fate is surely sealed!
Dad tries to regain his composure - He's had enough of this exposure!
But he recalls with a grim smile - "As a kid neither was I all that versatile!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 4 in Debbie Guzzi's "The Rhyme Inside" Contest - March 2011
Greater Consciousness - For Contest
A bird at its will, soaring high in the sky
Symbolic of liberty for the worldly we
But actual spirituality throws different light
It crosses all frontiers of worldly delight!
The aroma, the taste, the bliss of spiritual value
Migrate beyond streaks that our senses can pursue
Path to attain such soul awakening....
Is tough, requires true faith preserving
The sublime feel of unison with universe
Subsumed in Supreme soul, all souls and cosmos!
Pleasure or pain nothing shakes our soul
Birth or death nothing deters our goal!
Ineffable experience and experiment
Rule to reach is the detached attachment!
Dark tunnels of ignorance flood with enlightenment!
Aura expands with golden glow,all sides radiant
The spiritual peak of prism of self-actualisation,
Reached with the oriflame of meditation
Once awakened,soul feels a dip in River Styx
Rejuvenates from dark ashes like the Phoenix!
The delicate nuances of real happiness realised
Contentment perpetual, soul revitalised
Conscious stupor amidst all the trifles
State of zero- ego, no worldly goals
Deeper as we move ,there's still to reach
Beyond the horizon waves of bliss preach!
Our body is chariot and soul is the horse
Mind is the charioteer holding all reins!
Controlling the mind is hence the first rung
Once this feat achieved, spiritual song will be sung
We reach salvation, the sacrosanct position!
No reverses for its our ultimate destination
Many set sail seeking mystic bliss,only a few accomplish it
Some pretend, some enlighten, some quit
Those who fake are sure to fail and fall
Those who realise, will be above all
Those who quit will still have chance to re-install
Let the blissful spiritual journey begin
Let Yang be augmented, demolishing the Yin!
An eternal journey of soul to tranquility
A perpetual rendezvous with divinity!!!
Glossary:
Yang- positive energy (Chinese philosophy ,feng shui)
Yin- negative energy (Chinese philosophy ,feng shui)
River Styx- River in Greek mythology which was held by deities and brought invulnerability
For contest: New frontiers or Greater consciousness
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose
Date of writing: 12th August 2015
written by Mpho Leteng (Botswana) and Donald Kuutsi (Zimbabwe)
When sunrise whispers secrets sweet,
My undying spirit of determination rise,
Like morning dew, my curiosity awakes,
Demanding answers for the puzzle that awaits.
The shadows of the earth, they stretch and play,
Towards my window, mirrors, and the day,
My thoughts, like restless winds, do strive,
To grasp the reflection that will solve and thrive.
Heartbeat skips, as I behold the hourglass's sway,
Moments pass, like grains of sand, slipping away,
The wind, a restless lover, whispers low and fast,
As I, in solitude, my thoughts and soul do cast.
Ink and thoughts collide upon the page,
Demanding answers for the puzzle's hidden stage,
Yet, my heart, a mystery, does not reveal,
What holds the future, or what secrets it does conceal.
The sun, a fiery charioteer, does ride,
Across the sky, where clouds do softly glide,
The world, a canvas, painted with each new day,
A masterpiece, where dreams and hopes do sway.
The puzzle, a riddle, wrapped in mystery's fold,
Demands solution, as the hours do unfold,
My spirit, undying, rises to the test,
And in the silence, I find my inner quest.
The wind, a messenger, whispers secrets low,
Of paths untrodden, and roads yet to be known,
The hourglass, a reminder, of time's fleeting flight,
Urges me to seize the moment, and shine with all my might.
In this dance of dawn,
I find my heart, a compass, guiding me along the way,
Through the labyrinth of thoughts, and emotions' tide,
I navigate the puzzle, and let my spirit glide.
A Plea to the Charioteer
My prayers to you Charioteer
To guide me to the path full of light,
To lead me to the road that is right
And drive me to the route that is bright.
Let not the heat of anger besiege me
Nor the pangs of pride assail me,
Keep me clear from the sin of arrogance,
And free from the whiffs of petulance.
Should my mind ever go astray
Or should my faith in you ever sway,
Do refresh my veins with your flame
And goad me to the noble way.
Should hurdles be laid on my lanes,
Steer your chariot to evade them
Without inflicting any strain
Or any pain on anyone.
Should I ever wish to quit the field
Instil in me the strength and the will
To inner foes never to yield
Until I reach my last station.
I pray that you ever be by my side
And brace me with courage enough
To confront every stormy tide,
To vanquish every hidden foe
In battles within, though rough and tough.
When the final breath I will heave,
My plea that you fly me in your chariot
To your bright heavenly abode
My most cherished goal to achieve
To serve you at your wish and will.
Perusing the tomes of esoterica,
One truth I've learnt indeed,
Not one book contains it all.
There's always more to read.
Axiom mixed with allegory,
Abstract salt and misty sulphur.
Is this that famous alchemy?
I'll find the quintessence myself.
I wonder will my pupils burn,
Ere I see the salamander?
Peradventure I'll go blind,
Gazing at the flame.
Kundalini's far too painful,
No snakes I'll squeeze from there!
Keep the stick; I disdain your wand,
And those dowdy robes of rite.
You banish nought excepting creed,
So your mind can play in circles.
Dr Dee, did you notice,
Darkness in reflection?
Enoch's sigils say no more,
Arcane shapes that never shine.
Antiquated and obscure,
The like of which I can't define.
No Angels tap upon my pane,
I think they've lost their wings?
Or John and Eddy were insane,
Who can read their mirror?
I covet a theophany,
To behold an avatar.
But none have manifested yet,
Perhaps they are asleep?
I heard the Masons in cabal,
'Find the tent within thyself.'
Alas their holy pillars crumble,
When their master's meet.
Will I become the charioteer?
And overcome my obstacles.
Maybe the Tower's drawn for me,
'I'll see you at the bottom.'
To then be threshed by death himself,
Though his charger l won't fear.
Nor that upon his hasty heels,
For death is only transition.
A torchless Hermit I'll remain,
Engaged in futile rumination.
The change I will, will not occur,
Therefore the Fool forever I'll be.
In the closing days of Rome
when the end was drawing near,
There appeared at the cities edge
a noble charioteer.
He gazed down from atop the seven hills
at the city’s crumbling glory,
And let his thoughts drift back in time
to the once magnificent story.
How from this city of power
a mighty army would assemble,
To dispense the Roman way of life
and make the whole world tremble.
But now it seems the world has changed
the name of Rome has jaded,
The power that once belonged to her
has all but completely faded.
And the charioteer holds tight to the reins
to steady up the wheels,
And sits and waits there patiently
For fate to catch him by the heels.
Dip the light of happiness has come TODAY!
When darkness comes sun run it!
The charioteer Arun anger comes from the red!
Then the whole world bathed in happiness!
The logo sentinels Banti awake!
Dip burning in the minds of people of happiness!
When the whole world is asleep!
The world is going to wake up!
Afraid all his glory!
Unable to stand it any further!
His arrival is communication in happiness!
The darkness is passing!
When he left desolate the world!
Is blessed with the coming of the mass - mass!!
We would not hesitate to Shury Jewish Soc!
We are unable to live without light Shury!
Shury afraid of the darkness to come!
Teak does not he stepped in front of him!
They would be blessed - blessed man!
All they have to believe God!
Their redness appears on the Himalayas!
Their snow too scared to come!
Is in communication with the coming of his life!
There is value in the light of the world!
A Liquified Desert
A peacock glissades as a trail triggers,
an ambience of turquoise and chartreuse,
for it sparsely spreads as its glass mirrors,
neath a ceiling stain aquamarine blue.
Ghostly strands of lit fingers, it searches,
for soulless wanderers, offers a chance,
so new souls will exist, former merges,
exposed to a new presence in a trance.
Memories of beating, now heard aloud,
with their eyes wide, they behold, hesitates,
they see a beige wavy floor, glossy shroud,
it's a liquified desert, it's a dusk straits.
Charioteer cupids, gallops cherubs,
Flies souls with anointing doves, to terras,
2019 June 10
*1st Place*
Poetically Me THIS PICTURE WHAT CHA' SEE
~~James Edward Lee Sr.
Picture: #1
phæsporia
in cold strip light
sacred arrows
turned against
my golden horned deer
the reaching november
hands that hold
the flowery
fallen charioteer
shattered and strained
by fools
released
by a single tear