Best Reworded Poems
The flame of awareness is held by God,
which we cognise when fickle mind is still,
that ego vaporised, frigid heart thawed,
dove of love perches on soul’s window sill.
There is in truth nothing we need to do,
save remaining poised in the vibrant void,
mindfully sensing throb of bliss renew,
revealing our pristine Self unalloyed.
Thoughts are the blockage and once we know this,
feeling, not thinking, head and heart linking,
we are bestowed by Divine Mother kiss,
shifting us to awareness unblinking.
The difficulty is in letting go ~
Ego recedes when flow of thought is slow
***
Ego recedes when flow of thought is slow,
which reworded means we cease to exist,
save as a love mist reflecting God’s glow,
melding with vast space, ceasing to resist.
Now since we do not wish to disappear,
we continue flirtation with desire,
dwelling in darkness and harbouring fear,
remaining thus in bondage till we tire.
On realising there’s nothing out there,
we finally stop struggling and striving,
turning inward and becoming aware,
of lower mind and ego conniving.
For God it is enough, that we seek Him ~
It matters not if sight of soul is dim
***
It matters not if sight of soul is dim,
provided our heart is childlike and pure,
by day and night singing for God a hymn,
weeding away lust, making soul demure.
What happens then is this, suffused with bliss,
all nodes within form dance in unison;
the serpent rises, with a benign hiss
and we reclaim light of the central sun.
Our transmutation thus as living light,
is done when we choose with God to entwine,
whereupon we’re graced with spherical sight
and with His law of love gently align.
Beholding soul’s light within, we are awed ~
The flame of awareness is held by God
Categories:
reworded, god, spiritual,
Form:
Crown of Sonnets
These words I write rest, riff, repeat half and whole notes within.
It vibratos, quavers, and resonants in your noggin.
Strumming soberly on my-six standard
snapped, worn and improvised heart strings.
Chords tuned over life’s onerous tread
Tightened and loosened in my head.
Allowing residue if I transcribe attunement
So, I reworded through musical arrangement
Of neither trumpet-warning war to make ready
Nor saxophone-uplifting gravity of anxiety
But guitar, from my heart, playing my testimony.
When reading, your experience's singalong in harmony
Categories:
reworded, life, music,
Form:
Rhyme
To sound the right musical note,
string of the guitar is made taut,
so likewise for our light to shine,
trials we face, make us self-taught.
Stuporous is mind, heart unkind,
insipid stance, clumsy our dance,
floundering about as though blind,
mindful eye alters circumstance.
Notice head and heart, stand apart,
misaligned from the pulse of love,
so simply tightening soul’s strings,
they begin to act hand in glove.
Choosing consciousness correction,
fixating on God our focus,
shifts life’s course and our direction,
flowing along the love locus.
Tension buildup can be useful,
if employed for a higher cause,
which reworded simply requires,
putting flow of desires on pause.
Desires exhumed, our thoughts too cease,
then ego dies, since it’s unfed,
whereupon we flow like the breeze,
love energised, by bliss beats led.
Categories:
reworded, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
by Michaelw1two
Antilegomena, a direct transliteration from the Greek, refers to written texts whose authenticity or value is disputed
Exclusion, the reasoned gist, of this nation’s present trends,
revised, reworked, reworded, towards what particular ends;
enticingly so, provision’s rend, unseemingly my thought’s portend,
nonresonant replies to this crude haste, that truth, secrecy prepend.
Importance and what is valid truth, appears to earn no worth,
where written words once applied some proof, the dillies dallied smirk;
neither, nether, needling needs, advanced by domineering corporate jerks,
suggestion’s jest, provides resounding tiff, to amerika’s dullard’s mirth.
Warrants placed, once trusting bets, that each participant did solemnly swear,
initiating this allegiance, of god, country, and family, now thinly veiled veneers;
trusts bygone, a new age sprung, brought forth by the froth of fomenting profiteers,
profound indeed the implication’s seed, the mass of US conceded to fascist engineers.
Loss does bleed indifference, no more is war progressed as an ending game,
gains make all the difference, whether or not humanity realizes the awful shames;
books of words work worries wonders, where secrecy imbibes each thought profane,
cooked are the truths of imperialistic ruse, the few coerce the masses, that’s insane!
Historically, when gain was king, the impoverished arose and took off their heads,
asking naught but parity’s bless, enough for each, and for return to Eden’s gifts;
however, truth is apparent and graciously so, only loss will return US from the dead,
soulless few who profit so, must be decimated, before healing our country’s rifts.
Currently, the status held, that wicked men and wayward wars yet steer the helm,
from my individual position, these truths stand tall as does the 'mouse that roared';
these few who seek to hide these truths, we all know the master of their realm,
bargain not remove this lot, words wrote long ago, remind US of the peril or reward.
June 2013
Categories:
reworded, political,
Form:
Free verse
Seeing yesterday's mistakes repeat themselves
Looking for hope like looking for elves
Lessons learned reversing like a mirror
Judging without considering the interior
Basic teachings lost like a dream that was nothing but a blur
Greed and false promises continuing to lure
Almost like the world has dyslexia
Arguing over who is right from the left
Looking at our faults like a thousand pound heft
People addicted to love and attention
But when abandoned go looking for redemption.
Forgetting origins like they had amnesia,
Using money as a light anesthesia.
Generations repeating like reruns of episodes,
Old mistakes reworded and put into different codes.
People denying what they can’t understand,
Taking chances like stepping onto new land.
Swarming the same delusional dream like a fly,
Pulling the trigger over a senseless lie.
For every different person, a different personality to wear,
Leaning on friends that will never care,
Then run crying when our hands are bare
Begging for forgiveness like begging for air,
Because this world will never go anywhere
Chasing after the same dollar that wasn’t there.
Categories:
reworded, addiction, dream, hate, identity,
Form:
before we amble
muse upon the preamble
that entity ascension seeking
is encased in mind body matrix limiting
we have for engagement two polarities
external turbidity internal serenity
former is domain of our ego
latter love osmosis slow
on an as is where is basis
we begin with our body chassis
going in within into our heart center
gently feeling so intuiting how joy canters
desires beget thought as of our affirmation
birthing dream worlds as manifestation
cessation then our path optimal
beholding within a miracle
silent witness our presence
senses stirrings of love innocence
felt distinctly in form as magnetic heat
ineffable throb of rapture that has us upbeat
a word of caution here about the energy path
unless each nuance felt as a holy sabbath
aspect acceptant thoughts decadent
cannot navigate the bliss precinct
ego grasps whilst love connects
thus our stance within must be erect
head and heart melded in quiet alignment
resonating with our conscience in contentment
reworded we may say that we must fully let go
of attachment borne cravings of our ego
for we are not this limited mind body
engulfed in narrowness shoddy
back to business joy magnetism
expands slowly bridging all chasms
chakras many but lets not instrumentalise
our child within delighting in unfolding surprise
suffice to mention once blockages are clear
throb of bliss within each pore spears
we be to become bliss essence
radiating love fragrance
28-January-2021
Categories:
reworded, love, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
Every line has been used
Every song has been sung
Yet perfection eludes all
Each and every one
Rehashed and reworded
They misses their mark
The plagiarized love poem
Reaching out for a heart
It sounds great to the receiver
As we hoped it would
But feelings can't be written
Like we hoped they could
We know this because
No matter how hard we try
We're never quite happy
With the words that we write
It's not meant on purpose
So don't waste your time
Plagiarism’s a given
In love poem rhymes
Categories:
reworded, perspective, poems, poets, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Where have all the poets gone?
eight months’ time passing and counting.
Seems long time ago, as we were thrusted
and stuck in a labyrinth waiting to exhale.
Poets, like me, went to Poetry Open
held in book stores, book fairs, café
lounge in restaurants or room in libraries;
where poets and poetesses got together
to read and listen to our own poems.
Sometimes we went to Open Microphone,
mixed with musicians, who played and sang
songs of different bands or groups or singers
or their own music or songs in different genres.
That was so amazing, seeing creativity
as well as artistry in motion, in action.
Poetry and Music together, beautiful!
I penned a poem “Music” and I sang the first
verse of “With A Little Help From My Friend”,
that I reworded, as introduction to my poem.
All these places I remember and recall.
At this time, these places are closed.
Where do we poets go now?
as the passion to write does not stop.
Now, I listen to music when I’m reaching
for my free spirit to write groovy,
funky, cool and whimsical poems.
I search for my soul when I write
deep, sensitive and soulful poems.
Poets are creative and find ways to figure
out what will inspire to write, pen, scribble
those poetic words or imagery we see.
Or what our imagination reveal or unveil
to stir up or get going to conjure a poem.
Where do we poets go at this time?
In our home, in our backyard,
in neighboring surroundings, where we see nature
for our imagination has no bounds.
11/27/20 Silent One Where Do We Poets Go? Poetry
Categories:
reworded, places, poems, poetess, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
An excerpt from my new short story:
Contributing factors, however, are deemed as an assortment embracing negativity and were reinforcements for the young idealist. Granted to resonate by the dark lord was his underlying purpose. The premise has been appropriated. Likewise, the preceding groundwork was properly shoveled underneath. A particular young idealist realigns his outlook and foresees his fresh novel and still sought-after directive. Politics was a voracious subject, not so much academically, but it's a side subject welcomed by scholars considering it just as an extra curriculum. The topic may have been reworded, but his inner values sustain him representing his singular verbiage that goes on unwaveringly. As his agenda gathers momentum, attracting newcomers who realign their political views with his, draws the attention of the local region. Soon thereafter, the rest of the country will be on the ball, by way of his name. His political point of view which framed him since birth, now frames a country. The dark lord is on the rise bearing gifts purposed for an original firstborn. Introduced into a split family valued life of pluses and minuses, and compounded with his educational woes, evil's birthright was given a unique name. Historians, during their early stages, were amidst the golden glow of a virgin Europe, circa 1900.
It would later serve as a guide for his yet-to-be, future. WWI military losses for the Central forces were; 4,386,000, with; 3,700,000 civilian casualties. The Russian Empire conceded to the Bolsheviks Revolution who then executed the Imperial family. Military losses for the Allied forces were; 5,525,000, with; 4,000,000 civilian casualties. The German Empire ended after Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated his throne on November 9th, 1918. Two days later on the 11th of November 1918, The Peace Armistice was signed by the newly formed, German Republic, and the Soviet Union. The end of WWI left a highly decorated Adolf, wholly confident and sharply experienced.
Categories:
reworded, allegory, evil, introspection,
Form:
Narrative
“Ceasing thinking, begin feeling ~
Rapture of bliss beats appealing”
- quote by poet
Let us today discuss divine energy
Innate, immediate and intimate
Needless confusion abounds
So let us get facts straight
Made in image of God
Our true essence is living light
Thus, we merely ensoul this body
To grow in love and garner clear sight
Reworded, this decaying form is but dust
Body is made alive by breath of God
We are as He but yet know not
Direct knowing has us awed
Breath of God is Holy Spirit
It is also called Kundalini and Chi
Labels matter not, It is Divine Mother
When ego dies, who we are we then see
With the above preamble we may begin
To comprehend what this energy is
In short, it represents our Self
Love and light and bliss
We are here, so God too is
He dwells in the cave of our heart
If heart be pure and we seek God alone
We will vividly feel within, bliss ignition start
We have in us, male and female polarities
Energy in potential and energy kinetic
Potential is vast space all around
Kinetic is movement ecstatic
Divine energy is kinetic
It is everything that moves
Within body too, kundalini pulsates
Moving though enigmatic energy grooves
We have within us several energy vortexes
Each node corresponds to a vibration
Liken it to the colours of a rainbow
Refraction causing creation
Divine Mother is at root of spine
Our Father is said to be at the crown
Mother ascends, entwining at the fontanel
Both descend to heart, meld and in bliss drown
This depiction is real and certainly not symbolic
Simply stated, it represents death of ego
Desires renounced, we live internally
imbibing bliss in stillness slow
Bliss fixates our attention
In time, our eye becomes single
Compassion grows, we see all as one
As by day and night amplifies the bliss tingle
Back to the start, when we see clearly who we are
Which is, as we said before, eternal living light
We continue earth life but are now awake
With both clear sight and bliss delight
Categories:
reworded, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
The lilac haze of Dawn creeps up,
With the stealth of a vampire.
Bleeding glistening red droplets into
The blue-black veined forest
And to the monochromatic hills beyond.
~I dissected and reworded Deborah Guzzi's poem Vampiric Dawn~
Categories:
reworded, parody
Form:
Personification
Where lies free will, if we be not awake,
enslaved by senses, in bondage to mind,
fears and desires unable to forsake,
floundering in darkness, as do the blind?
We know not who we are and yet we spar,
questioning not our conditioned belief,
so without purpose we’ve drifted afar,
having not resolve to turn a new leaf.
In states of waking, dreaming and deep sleep,
we find that in the labyrinth we’re lost,
so unless consciousness takes a big leap,
hemmed in thus, our soul pays a heavy cost.
Knowing that we know not, let us find out,
how may mind and heart become free from doubt.
How may mind and heart become free from doubt,
by knowing truth of soul and that of God,
that immune from fears that twirl us about,
gentling every touch, we give love our nod?
First things first, we must learn to stand erect,
by melding head with our tremulous heart,
doing always as conscience does direct,
that ego and soul do not stand apart.
The process then requires our surrender,
dwelling in silence, choosing to be still,
deeming all souls one, no hearts asunder,
in seamless resonance with divine will.
Reworded, we become a child again,
clinging neither to pleasure nor to pain.
Clinging neither to pleasure nor to pain,
our soul’s consciousness enters witness mode,
receptive and acceptant, free from stain,
nestled in bliss, makes the heart it’s abode.
Upon choosing to make love our mainstay,
we flow like the breeze with nonchalant ease
and doing nothing, ego falls away,
whereupon cravings of lower mind cease.
Free from desire, awareness self-aware,
beholds its luminescence with clear sight,
ready to share with souls who care to pair,
with effervescence of bliss beats delight.
The game of push and pull, was our mistake.
Where lies free will, if we be not awake?
Categories:
reworded, freedom, spiritual,
Form:
Crown of Sonnets
No sooner our mind accords preference
to an outcome imagined optimal,
fears boomerang, stifling heart’s radiance,
self-blocking onset of God’s miracle,
manifesting fate inhospitable.
Reworded, our power of creation
births consequence as of thought suggestion,
which being rooted in ego craving,
unwittingly chooses agitation,
whilst cessation enables elation.
09-September-2021
Categories:
reworded, muse, spiritual,
Form:
Dizain
Once upon a time, basking in sublime gardens of Eden
blissful essence of presence did as was bidden
soul ingrained with delight from head to toe
imbibing divine elixir, joyful heart aglow
humming a happy melodious verse
in resonance with pulse of the universe
feeling complete, in heightened bliss replete
until head and heart cracked, love sank to our feet
Reworded, we may say we shifted away from oneness
to a deluded, imaginary stature of ego separateness
presence feeling limited, imperfect and flawed
earthbound till soul be healed and thawed
pursuing desire in maya borne illusion
until exhaustion gets us to the recognition
that joy eternal lies not in the transient ephemeral
we again rekindle love in heart, with cognition spherical
In this journey without movement, we take off ego mask
for which no doing need be done, so easy is this task
our heart which is broken, due to love forsaken
shakes off deluded facade, when shaken
shifting by cessation into stillness and silence
awakening inner polarity of mind-body sentience
fabric of ignorance torn, ego shorn, now twice born
suffused by love magnetism warm, we once again adorn
14-June-2021
Writing prompt ‘flawed’ poetry contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
employing the following words once only:
flawed, mask, broken, cracked
facade, torn, illusion, imperfect
Categories:
reworded, muse,
Form:
Rhyme
Let us examine why we're discontent
with the flow of life as it so appears,
signalling we're not here and now present,
oblivious to magnetism that spears
core of our being, as God's presence nears,
which reworded simply means we're in trance,
so until thought forms continue to prance,
there is no way we can reclaim pure bliss,
ours for the asking if we choose to dance
with life's flow in trust, just as lovers kiss.
07-January-2023
Categories:
reworded, introspection, joy, kiss, love,
Form:
Dizain