Best Earthed Poems
Whiskey on the rocks, advised by my doc
combats dementia, so bring on the blocks
no need for a glass; I'll have me the bottle
with a big bowl of ice this baby I'll throttle
The whiskey's gone, now a brandy'd be fine
my inside's on fire, there's a hoop up my spine
swigging from the bot comes at a price
I'll temper the fire with whole blocks of ice
The flames have been doused; rum, if you please?
my head's in a clamp; ice will loosen the squeeze
now, be a sport and pile on the ice
two bowls or more I think should suffice
Three bottlesh down, all on the rocksh
my tootshiesh are shtarting to curl in my shocksh
my shmile is chemented, my lipsh glued together
my fashe the feel and texture of leather
Twishe left, thrishe right my head ish shwinging
short, long, short, long my earsh are zinging
either I'm crosh-eyed or my brainsh have been fried
elsh why are my legsh by three multiplied?
I'm freefalling on shixh feet firmly earthed
alternating twixht lower and then upper berth
vocal chordsh tangled, shizhably crimped
I'm walking with a lishp and talking with a limp
I'm teetering-tottering or tettering-tortering
I've no clue which ish which and given up wondering
the world ish a blur; I musht be plarshtered
the liquor went down well; ishe warsh the barshtard
On all foursh – nay, twelve, I reach the bed
now I'm pondering and shcratching my head:
am I waking up or about to retire?
I shimply topple over, my whole being on fire
In the Land of Nod I'm harnessed by tether
in comely dreams of cowboys and leather
when plagued by a swishy feel in my bladder
swelling as fast as a pregnant puffadder
Abruptly awakened when a stream emanated
unable to move, still intoxicated
stuck to my bed and severely drenched
nausea ensued in the encompassing stench
How my stomach reacted I'd best not relate
suffice to say it was a full freight
soiled and hung-over, a word of advice:
liquor's fantastic but steer clear of ice
“dans le heure bleue"
My skin feels alive
when you are
next to me
blood pulsing
from the core
of me
Root Chakra Red
My throat exposed
the Wolf now
lies next to me
in my warm bed
savage and smiling
he is seen, he
smells of
fresh crushed green
pine leaves
lemon
basil
bergamot
a heart blooming
with jasmine
rose
carnation
coriander
patchouli
sandalwood
and iris root, then
I’m on my knees
genuflecting
he says,
“Come here,"
He kisses me
and tastes
like
Star Anise
"sauvage
je reviens
vers vous
Rouge
dans le
heure bleue..."
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
V.S.A.S.
"Scent of a Woman
rising from
the Oceans blue
necklace of pearls
on a clam shell
salt and air
silver cut grass
then earthed
terra australis
Red"
"Open Skies"
The Sky
is now wide open
Good morning
Sunshine, he says
She
recalls
a dream
in abstract
In clouds, not white
when hearts are darkest
Love arrives
unheralded
on a harsh cold
dark Winter's night
the Sun arrives
promising benevolence
sounding sharp trumpets
a different kind of music
ants scatter under
strange coloured lights
stunned
and love frightened
hearts are opening
in common alliance
caught up
in the open skies
now being earthed in
this epic romance
The dream is silent
egg shell blue
it is cracked wide open
kyrie eleison
a Mass in
Exodus
snow on tongues
burnt manna turns to ash
Rapture arrives
in different colours
In clouds, not white
when hearts are darkest
the
unifying
colour
is -
Rust.
Love
arrives
unheralded
nearly all but forgotten
Prophetic communion
All Souls seen holding hands
hidden in their vessels
of different colours
The dream is silent
egg shell blue
it is cracked wide open
kyrie eleison
Open,
Blue Sky
arrives
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
The Orb - Little Fluffy Clouds
https://youtu.be/8Ecdn5SGT1E
"The hero is one
who kindles a great light
in the world,
who sets up blazing torches
in the dark streets of life
for men to see by."
“Let's go."
"We can't."
"Why not?"
"We're waiting for Godot.”
"Veni Sancte Spiritus".
The word Kyrie is used in the Septuagint, the earliest Greek translation of the Old Testament, to translate the Hebrew word Yahweh. In the New Testament, Kyrie is the title given to Christ, as in Philippians 2:11.
"Angelic Code Sound Healing"
https://youtu.be/8eFoJHjLmyU
"Veni Sancte Spiritus"
https://youtu.be/_m_6Fp9Va0w
Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes
and birds of the air have nests,
but the Son of Man has no place
to lay his head.” Matthew 8:20 NIV
PLACE OF RESPITE
Cheek-tinge of pink dawning in the murky skies.
Blandness of deep-earthed bark, stretching,
touched by birdsong…long overdue, it pries
the stirring of tinctures, heart-revival fetching.
The soft cooing of dove-white countenance
behind the adventurous arms of upright praise.
The milky colorant, the soothe of boundlessness,
heaven’s face — the wise eyes of Jesus’ blaze.
Crustose lichen of green, subtle stripes of peel,
signature branch-sketch, by God’s hand, varicose
leans into his every word — his glory-heel
at cross-times past, every blood path, bellicose.
Eureka! I once again, open my ears to golden notes.
Why is chirping so charming? …like an angelic shake,
the bell one or many…the beckon from furry coats,
unseen-existence b’neath the heaven’s silver lake.
The light brightens on the horizon, a New Year shines
through the I’m-glad-I’m-home-steal-my-heart blinds
Familiar bittersweets and blues, buttercup-yellows, signs
that love is close of hand and hearth, most oft’ kind.
1/4/2022
Everyday as i pass the old tree
i compare myself to the limbs
branches hanging lower now
leaves dropping and bark scarred
the deep roots un-earthed
tree house fallen
glory days
lost in
time...
Contest: The Old Age
Form: Nonet
Sponsored by: Dr. Ram Mehta
Poems by Shar
Spring trees are full of tender
green buds, stretching into the air.
Fresh blackberries blooming white
flowers everywhere.
The smell of honeysuckle and it's bright
stare are full of honey bees with a hunger
to mature, with care.
A long walk on a dirt lain, back
road with no where to go.
Gentle fireflies cascade in the
evening's glow.
In the distance a young whiperwhil
calls to another.
A peaceful sound that brings to me
a soft shutter.
Spring is here once again and the rebirth
of life begins again.
I live to see each year's wonder earthed
and to it, my attention lend.
"A Mother"
An angel planted itself
in the womb of the world
for a short while
a mother carries humanity
trying to heal her wounds
the chalice of her ocean earthed
bleeds life for all it is worth
Gaia cries but she is so much stronger
vibrating dimensions higher
uncut in the heart
solid and so much stronger
than any god
a mother
ascending
dimensions higher
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
gvlm
"Viðrar vel til loftárása" / Sigur Ros
https://youtu.be/gwkcdRE6JEY
“I sink down into my body as into a swamp, fenland, where only I know the footing…. I’m a cloud, congealed around a central object, the shape of a pear, which is hard and more real than I am and glows red within its translucent wrapping. Inside it is a space, huge as the sky at night and dark and curved like that, though black-red rather than black.”
“The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups but chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty. When they are old they turn themselves inside out, explode slowly, the petals thrown like shards.”
“Here and there are worms, evidence of the fertility of the soil, caught by the sun, half dead; flexible and pink, like lips.”
“Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. IT transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time.
“I think that this is what God must look like: an egg. The life of the moon may not be on the surface, but inside."
“I used to think of my body as an instrument, of pleasure, or a means of transportation, or an implement for the accomplishment of my will.”
“We have learned to see the world in gasps.”
“...like a pathway through a forest, like a carpet for royalty, it shows me the way”.
“And so I step up, into the darkness within; or else the light.”
(The Handmaid's Tale/Margaret Atwood)
Viðrar vel til loftárása (Alternative Ending)/ Sigur Ros
https://youtu.be/re999Tgj3ns
"anamorphosis"
your eyes
like mundi’s orb
crystal Orion belted
mysterious black opals
Blue globed
opallios light veined,
a Star calls us
Home
some are blind, disinterested;
other windows once jaded
are jewels, like emeralds and
sapphire skies, topaz earthed
Becoming
portals to worlds of others,
wide and open minded
what they see
is not the holy see
anamorphosis
ripples truth
the hands and feet
still bleed
of another soul
in hidden dimension
eventually the grains
are raised, revealed
the metamorph,
radical star seed
out of the woodwork
stone crumbles
and as heads turn
salt is tasted
tears,
pillars burn
drones take confessions
we isolate
da vinci
corpus christi
solemnity on
a June viral Thursday
starbursts by 3
on a Monday
we commence debating
coffin cities and Georgia stones
where we are guided to numbers
on a Sunday
the puzzle
seen eventually
arriving in
The Cloud
we look for answers
all doors closed in a world
we are over rated in our vanity
internally, we are All
I Am
we are called
we learn about true Love
and why we are born
when death whispers around us
in our dawn
Now,
translate
salvator mundi.
Souls stretch
in the end, we all
reach for what's seen
in the Light
of an orb
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
“The Gospel of John Hurt” / Alt-J
https://youtu.be/LXkpWY5Y02Q
Lyrics/ “The Gospel of John Hurt”, Alt-J
https://genius.com/Alt-j-the-gospel-of-john-hurt-lyrics
"Something Extraordinary in Da Vinci's Paintings"
https://youtu.be/JDSnlDeRoKc
"The Search for the Last Supper"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pJD5HtlKwg
"The Messiah Before Jesus"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5g13jQYOzYo
1. Salvator Mundi
2. Leonardo Da Vinci
3. Georgia Guidestones
4. The Feast of Corpus Christi
5. Maundy Thursday
6. Metamorph
7. anamorphosis
8. covid19
9. Revelations, Book of
10. The Cloud
11. The Star
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morning_Star
ECHO
nymph of note
your mountain voice rebounds
as it resonates your vanity
enticing echo’s alluring invite
beguiling tantalizing tease
tempting Zeus
weaving your words
of sidetracking diversion
amusingly entertaining wives
freeing their spouses to ravish
captivating seducing tease
tempting nymphs
detecting your tricks
Hera’s fierce retribution as
colorful conversations she muted
replacing with foolish repetitions
your only communication now
irrational duplication
AN OBTUSE
ECHO
In Greek mythology “Echo” was a mountain nymph who loved the sound of her own voice.
She used it to attract Greek gods and torment their wives… until the wife of Zeus,
Hera,
Un-earthed deception and sought retribution
© Kim van Breda—10 November 2014
Two faced fox from beneath the shadows
Prepackaged blush the manipulative wallows
Irrational cupidity earthed in lies
Imminently causing fitting cries
Acute observations to every detail
Questions asked but to no avail
Reprehensible plight wears temperance thin
And convincingly accounts for the insurmountable win
Clarity of worth is only there in the lack of
Contradictions and assumptions strikingly thereof
In effect attempts are marked as feeble
Noteworthy endeavors deemed as terrible
Given that honesty less jest were sought
If only beyond the bridge were given thought
Contexts beyond the cusp could have been prevented
The discussion ends when this poem has ended
.
Off
Womb
Earthed
HumanS
In Worship
Of Nature
For Love of Nature
A shelter to be safe
From Fury of Nature
Place to
Explore
Called Own
Home Nature
In its glory
In its beauty
In acceptance
In accordance
In its response
In responsibility
A shelter to look out from
A shelter to look into form
A shelter carved out from
A shelter constructed from
Built Offerings to confirm
Innate Nature human will
That refuses to conform
A mark
The born
The evolved
There created
That left a form
That drawn from
Collective Nature
Cyclical Nature Impression
Creations Emerge Dissolve
To the larger will
Nature returns
It is her field
In her fold
A recall
And if poverty whips,
largely, torments
In her barefaced snort of
withering grievance.
I shall be the one,
mannered by Earth's dog-
wetness,
To garner my broken
possession, murk and bins,
Writhe, clamber steep nigh
moister Earth
From foot of lazy deities,
pick the sacred mound,
Muzzle it deep against my
leaking dereliction birthed
From a heightened
helplessness of obligation
And speak the words of
preserving ardour
From deities' bossom
As trambled Kola lobe and
marooned salt
Earthed for no sprouting in
rushing footfalls,
Prickled, insatiate in the
belly of oblivion
I shall be the praying yam
wholly unearthed
To the feet of a roasting
'adogan'
I shall be the racketeering
prey, jostled
Endlessly in poverty's
meaning play,
Washed- out by riches'
maze
I shall be the mocking
haunt lack tugs
In steep eaves of perceived
redemption.
THAT I MAY REST IN PEACE
As I sat calmly under the tent
Even though we don't know who's next
But the deceased had left
But the memories are in our hearts in bold crest
Saw young and old dressed in black to mourn the dead.
Without call the dead has brought under same canopy both friends and fiends
Just to pay last respect to the life that hit untimely end
Everyone running errands the dead never sent them
Old friends reuniting while new enmity igniting
Friends and folks from far and wide
Here they are wining and dining .
Lemme make a call to my friends and enemies
I've got a life now worth living
Even when I don't plan early exit but who knows when it will be time for leaving
Share no souvenirs after earthing me when you can gimme me gift in my happy days
Save the black wear for another, rather take a colourful pictures with me while still here
Call me out for drinks and never wait till my breath is on the brink
Call me to report me to me maybe we can trash our issues
Rather than lie to the world when I already know the truth in my grave
Temme you hate me to my face before you tell me to rest in peace after my demise
Bring milk to my seek bed before you fight for meat at my after internment party.
Gimme me cake on my birthday before you fake your cry on my burial day
Make a party for me when I can join to dance and not when I'm earthed six feet below
I'd rather have you be late to my party than being an organizer when I'm called late
Shower the love and praises on me while i am alive
Not the encomiums heaped upon my grave
Temme my errors now before I cross to the land of horrors
Where your deeds are shown before me in a mirror
Let my picture grace your phone with kisses and not with hisses and disses when I'm deceased
Do these for me with you I plead
All these I plead with my heart from thee
Just that I may rest in peace in my after life.
(CONCEPTUAL FM ???)
Revisiting the Lost Swastika
.
Build A Temple
Of lofty citadel
Layer upon layer
Station your Gods
Your guiding Spirits
Give them all Space
A Resting Place Atop
In the Sanctum below
There is a Sacred room
It is the Womb; Garbha
Termed as Garbha Graha
Literally: The Womb Room
The Origin or the Conception
Where Energy turns into Matter
The Cosmic & The Material
The Brahma Meets The Crafted
.
The Creator Expresses His Creations
One Formless it throws myriad Forms
The prayers rituals make human scale
.
This structure rests on a Square base;
The core is left open; is to invite Space
In the four corners settle four Elements
The Water, The Earth, The Fire & the Air
Them oscillating in a rhythmic sequence
Indicated by the four arms of Swastika
.
The cube is aligned to True North; Pole star
Stationed cube; is the most stable structure
Now drawing from Cosmic; it is now Earthed
.
Structure it is oscillating
Structure it is pulsating
Structure is established
Science of Sacred Signs
The Being is now in sync
Resting on Swastika sign
.
Carry your Temple; All your Gods: Be blessed always
lightning earthed on paper