Best Overspills Poems
What wonderful warmth
Weaves through my bones
Some mystic music
With healing tones
A summer waft
A sunshine snuggle
A hug so deep
Erasing trouble
If only I could bottle this
To keep it fresh
This cleansing balm
This wonderous mesh..
Connecting souls
Correcting ills
Blessing so full
It overspills
The world needs more -
This love strewn hit
To cure pandemic
Deficit
Yet here I rest
Tired eyes closed tight
While restful thoughts
Redeem the blight
A harvest
Doth my soul peruse
An ancient truth
Stills daily news
Join me, do
If you so desire
To find your heart's
Angelic choir
A harmony
That lives within
To quell the worldly
Heartless din
Peaceful corner
Comfy chair
Your favourite spot
I'll meet you there
Free will whose
An egoic ruse
Please excuse
Offered clues
The mind body enigma
An outer form we call jiva
Inner layer soul or Atma
All within God or Paramatma
This preamble in place
The line of inquiry we face
From our core at an easy pace
Truth recognised solely by His grace
We the jiva with senses external
Having narrow agendas ephemeral
In joy & sorrow rotation cyclical
Live out a life tragicomical
Our the thus delusion
In myriad of maya borne illusion
Egoic thought fuelling confusion
Mires us in stupor of stagnation
Freedom instant by thought cessation
Resting fear & desire agitation
In restful prayerful meditation
Igniting within divine love bliss elation
However being bound by our own hand
Matrix of life yet we are yet to understand
We ask about free will before we can stand
The light within veiled by mundanity bland
So do we have free will ...
We indeed do if we are still
When divine love in our heart we instil
As the elixir of bliss within overspills
As for destiny
Of mind body entity
There is a blueprint but with no finality
Free will determining turbidity or serenity
When will we be free we hear ourself ask
In effortless stillness getting to the task
Is-ness of presence in joy does bask
Having discarded the ego mask
One day
Any day
Today
Hip hip hooray!
12-September-2020
I have watched tree-giants
in deep forest-cathedrals
declare glory, speak of heaven
in sanctuaries where birds rejoice
between branches
under leafy-windows
– green and gold.
I have seen where roots
pierce stone.
Then, glazed December
cracked. Empty
summer storms
thundered,
stabbed lightning
straight through giant-hearts
to the dirt floor.
Fire:
raging fever, contagion,
pain, death, loss,
ashes.
And afterwards,
the once-burnt feet of a lone koala,
a soothed survivor,
were clinging anew to the arm
of a tree, waiting
for more disaster.
We heard the next thing coming
on the weather-report
and put the bikes in the shed.
Here it is!
One cloud, like a fist,
hits hard. Leather-dry-sky
splits into a dark stampede.
Invading gales
rip bones from trees,
pelt rain at dust,
dust that leaps up,
surprised to fall as mud,
mud that tumbles, twists
into bubbling brown
creeks, rivers, dams;
overspills,
smothers,
kills fire,
drowns.
It’s all been on my screen,
along with the newborn grandchild
un-kissed.
When will I tip-toe
to see new growth
on the charred forest giants,
hear loud cicadas chant,
and celebrate – singing
with lorikeet lunatics,
and a first kiss?
Sill dressed in beauty -
this weary world patiently waits
for the next.
................................................
Written after 2019/2020 'Black Summer' bushfires and floods, and Covid related news and lockdowns.
Ego death
“Peace that surpasseth all understanding ~
Ours when ends clamour of heart demanding”
~ quote by poet
__________________
Tranquil peace of bliss,
encompassing this
here form and all space ~
bestowed by God’s grace.
Nectar overspills,
humming current stills,
nodes within glisten,
as bliss beats quicken.
As love gains traction,
our satisfaction,
becomes the bliss flame,
our earth life’s end game.
Soul’s light a sun ray ~
night turns into day,
for as we evolve,
opposites dissolve.
Divine magnetism
within body prism
leaves no cell untouched ~
each by bliss burn brushed.
The vast void’s our home ~
gigantic bliss dome;
all’s within our heart,
where pulsations start.
We thus are and be,
in existence free,
becoming the source,
of our soul’s resource.
Nothing need be done ~
with all we are one,
entwined with oneness,
as God consciousness.
17-May-2022
Left over overspills are a typewritten error and a grammatical code of which there is no collision of nouns, verbs or adjectives. Descent described design deriving dug dirt. And a soil no shine. A voided coloured counting ball is many balls on cruises to oil lakes. Found in farm grounds. Sluice then slice slice slice. But thrice times an angle in a wailing tree is nit a crystallized orb nor is it a hyperlink or a cycle of cubic measurement. Mature mo frozen italic of thought to a paper in the mind. And gathering although hazardous is another feat to match the toes of soul. Anatomical wisdom rattle. Shake shake shake. And a smiley snake grimaces at very tight reeds to pass to get the kill. Good. Greedy goblins grabbing gestational genital garments giving going gravitationally. And in addition to this a wide mouthed toad sits on that cake over there. Good. Fake that freezer pop. Z augments Z pathologically Z
Dreams and nightmares come and go
I've found something you ought to know
These night terrors can cause distress
Reading below could rid this mess
If you wake due to thrashing around
Tiredness and lethargy will be found
You can control your mind in sleep
Don't worry now , this isn't too deep
Management of subconscious mind
The answer to this I hope you find
Dreams are like a washing machine
When it's working , life is serene
When the machine breaks and overspills
Nightmares play and mayhem shrills
We need to fix this and stop it fast
Or decent sleep is a thing of the past
Common in trauma nightmares are
Disressing thoughts from lands afar
You're not alone this is for sure
Hopefully I can give you the cure
Don't try to analyse whats making you wake
It's only a nightmare for goodness sake
Too you I know its causes alarm
I'm just saying, it can't cause you any harm
It doesn't have to be logical or real
Along as you sleep that's the appeal
Keep this ending on an imaginary shelf
As you sleep it will assist in your health
When you wake If you can remember it
Think of an ending that will benefit
The ending can be anything you like
The nightmare will get on its bike
If this ending does not work
Whatever you do, don't go berserk
Try it again on the next night
Eventually you'll sleep without fright
If you don't remember when you wake
All is not lost use your feelings intake
You wake with fear and sweating hard
Change ending to a picturesque postcard
Keep practicing this changing technique
Then the nightmares will become weak
Persevere and see the light
All I can now, say is "SLEEP TIGHT, GOODNIGHT"
Christ looks down at me, from the cross.
Tears flow from my eyes, my soul feels lost.
I did not deserve you from the start.
Sinful weeping, overspills from my heart.
Time after time I have hurt you, with my sin.
Why, you still loved me, I cannot comprehend.
You have always been there, loving me..
I feel ashamed, I haven't followed faithfully.
I rededicate my life and will give you my all.
Knowing you will be pick me up again, when I fall.
Do not turn the superior eye of critical passivity upon these efforts
…. We must not be ambitious. We cannot aspire to masterpieces.
We may content ourselves with a joy ride in a paint-box.
Quote- Winston Churchill, Painting as a Pastime.
***************
That Which Within Art's Paradings, Imitates Life
This beating heart once dwelt within a hidden place
to preserve what I loved and could never replace
in youth, I set my throne in purple-crested hills
in forest's foliage where Nature overspills
safer refuge, a child's most magnificent shield
within that nether realm there my soul never yields.
Dear are the gifts given we so blindly refuse.
As always the same lies we rinse and then reuse.
All this wicked world and all of its savage blades
offered sanctuary in hideous parades
yet in valiant spirit, I knew such was so wrong
I refused, to join its repugnant bustling throngs
decisions made, I have yet to ever regret
those that youthful life and its wild-born journey set.
Dear are the gifts given we so blindly refuse.
As always the same lies we rinse and then reuse.
Now I have survived, in my own time growing strong
I changed my dreams but not ever my youthful song
as time using its power delivered decay
I fear neither its wrath nor its destructive way
for life has taught me, we are but mere molded clay
here today, only to be gone some future day.
Dear are the gifts given we so blindly refuse.
As always the same lies we rinse and then reuse.
Robert J. Lindley, original Sept- 24th-1992
edited, 10/17 2020. 10/18 2020...
Rhyme, ( From Ancient Dead Stars Fly Death's Truest Signs )
Syllables per line:
0 12 12 12 12 12 12
0 12 12
0 12 12 12 12 12 12
0 12 12
0 12 12 12 12 12 12
0 12 12
Total number of syllables:288
Total number of words:212
Note:
A straightjacket he refused to wear
Claiming life is boring and so unfair
Yet its colors are marvelously grand
And its epic pains more than he could stand
RJL, 1992...
****************
"From a rainbow, he tore off a delicious piece,
To eat its vanishing visionary release"
Quote- RJL- 1992.
save screen of awareness, all fades with time
innate aliveness, blissful and sublime
no sooner we choose, to make heart tranquil
boundless bliss within, by grace overspills
there then thus being nothing to be done
God alone is; our soul and He are one
26-July-2021
Are you frying today? No? Not at all? An attempt to pull the frying pan out would be better off left alone as other plates could fall. Oh dear. The frying is best done outside then? Yes? Are you even listening to the logic? You are? Really? Wow. Well that makes about as much sense as a conversation between a hammer and a screaming screw. No need or necessity for screw fix, adhesive pastes nor metallic elements. Ok then. Now that is sorted it is merely open to say and state that a single word like bus means a station and a single word like train also means station. Why??Because it does. Irrelevant interference interfering intertwining interesting innermost informational influences. Like pow Pow Pow then? Ok and goose kisses a hare. Sponge tab equals tap tap tap and opened opinionated oversized overspills' are too noisy in a library. X mountaineering z z z z at seven yawning lions looking out of a keyhole to twelve flamingos bouncing on trampoline lake. z
Mountainous peaks so high
above the clouds. A rugged
ladder of ice rock and snow,
seemingly out stretched
towards heavens gates.
A fearful endeavour to cross
a narrow mountain ledge.
Tread carefully a slip could
mean a free fall to your final
resting place.
In this patient moment you
recite a scripture. Reminding
and reinforcing that you do
not have a spirit of fear.
A radiant sun overspills between
two peaks with the true spirit.
You walk onwards head held high
to safety in God's love.
Senses five externalised
Analytical mind, objects sized
Yet power of reason, now our prison
Life whizzes by, too late at death we wisen
Recognising that we are not mind-body
We are divine, on earth for study
Learning love alone as real
Gods pulse that heals
Alive and aglow in our heart
As bliss ignition therein does start
Current innate to which we are oblivious
With narrow ego wielding baton of awareness
Thus no sooner we rest fear and desire
Love, the fire for which we aspire
We be to become the answer
Requiring no translator
As Gods essence luminous
The magic we weave fortuitous
Transcending beliefs and limitations
Co-creating manifestation by resonation
Voids within form do fill as divine bliss overspills
Hollow mind body vessel, vassal of Gods will
Readying us thus for our true life purpose
Singing our verse, with love in chorus
All that that is, enigmatic beauty
Bliss renewal in continuity
14-May-2021
Why a blue sky?,
why a green field?
Why a white cloud?,
or the need to feel?
Feel the pain in the
rain, hurt from another
yet no blood stain.
Why a crimson sky at
night?, why a yellow sun
shining so bright?
Feel the warmth upon
our skin, feel the warmth
radiate within.
Why a brown tree trunk?,
or the colour of mud?
Feel the aches as we
make our body trudge.
Why does anything
happen to any of us?
Why are some born rich?,
why are some born with
zilch.
Feel the bitterness that
overspills. We were all
given free will, yet whatever
happened to been born equal?
Life going by for most
In vacuity like a ghost
Unable to vitalise
The divine within to rise
The oft felt inner stirring
Needing tender attending
Yet our wilful neglect
Inability to stand erect
In mind-heart alignment
Blocks bliss contentment
Whilst by simply being still
Our cup of joy overspills
Automatically
Enigmatically
As layer by layer
Discarding fear we uncover
Magnetic electricity
Elixir of divine connectivity
As this nectar we imbibe
Bliss words cannot describe
Pulsates within in renewal
Rapture in ignition continual
Consciousness bliss shift
Leaves all else save love adrift
Mind-body thus in resonation
With pulse of the Ohm vibration
Ohm the quietus
Leaving no hiatus
Within
All paths do seem valid, in their own right
What matters is that we get to the roots
As we embark upon our wingless flight
Moment to moment, as life pulse reboots
Each path requires, that we release our past
In silence, surrender our lower mind
Fearful thoughts and desires, into form cast
Exhuming thereby, narrow ego bind
Mind-body empty, behold what remains
When thoughts are still, bliss within overspills
Our soul shines in glory, pure and unstained
Such is the miracle, of divine will
Bliss within throbs, in continuity
Time stretched stillness becomes eternity
18-May-2021