Best Cyclic Poems

Trying to hide in conspicuous places
a night on the town in their false, plastic faces.
Sweetly they sweep through magnificent halls,
top-dollar galas and masquerade balls --...

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Feeling hurt owing to belied expectation
The earth entity floundered hither and thither
Spiralling gloom causing consciousness contraction
The wound cut deep since he relied upon his transgressor

Pain...

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autumn fills sparse spaces we occupy,
               seasonal change that closes in...

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O dried up leaf lying there on the ground
Fallen from the top of a sturdy tree
Where you viewed everything that was around
While you bathed in...

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PARALLEL AUTUMN SURPRISES


A ferris wheel of no return, she stood with rosy cheeks so fair; both day and night just wide rocky bridges of light...

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CITADEL AND CONSTELLATIONS


The green leaves in rugged moans;
The tall bushes in rumbling groans;
The roofs train creaks-- their fugue
blow cobwebs hugging branches below,
such  are precursors...

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FREEBORN

Now ‘cross the fields and woods bird songs ring out
Unbounded exultation to survive
Their voices each a freeborn joyous shout

‘I am still here, a presence, had...

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Goosebumps and all
I lay
Under a bed of stars
Sparkling across the night sky like a diamond mine

Chinese Lanterns in the sky, hanging far from my reach
To...

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for King Wen, circa 1151-1143 B.C.E. – with seven mind-bending kowtows

There where you had no occasion for play
There in your confined Ming I space
Where change...

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The relativity of wealth and poverty
Amazing.
Einstein’s formulations pale
In juxtaposition to universal carnage.

Obese pigs of a glam, 
filled holes of cultural blacktop.
“Get your plump white asses...

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Divorce sucks!
But,... marriage is worse.
"It doesn't have to be like this."
Life flows and we sink,
Swim or float.
Our choice.
Not every eddy
Or every rock
Presents a fearful
Block.
Love regardless
Means...

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The dance divine 

The dance divine at play,
both reveals and conceals,
cyclic pleasure and pain,
deflects thoughts onto form;
life gift boon, becomes bane.

The dance divine at play,
where...

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When was that golden age for which you yearn?
A perfect Eden? where we’d yet to learn 
To conquer and to dominate the land
And Mother Nature...

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Age is not all decay; it is the ripening, the swelling, of the fresh life within, that withers and bursts the husk. George MacDonald
 
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In...

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Children of the Earth
                     
The...

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