Best Sacra Poems
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
Julius Caesar Act 1, Scene 3
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( From that to this, youth, poetry and into aged mind )
In Youth, Beauty That Sets Eager Hearts To Flutter
Sea waved at scantily-clad sunning girls
breeze gifted cooler winds in soothing swirls.
Sand, bikini, colors the beach adorn
great was blessed views on that July morn.
Laughter, joy and loud play, call for the day.
Clear blue sky defeats world's sad morbid grey.
Picnic and fun- as early summer treats
innocent youth, deeper mysteries greets.
Beauty that sets eager hearts to flutter
as silent prayers, hopeful teen boys mutter.
Laughter, joy and loud play, call for the day.
Clear blue sky defeats world's sad morbid grey.
As racing sun, bright radiance gifted
thoughts of Love, romance many hearts lifted.
Cool waters waving, and hearts swift beating
Cupid shot arrows, Desires were heating.
Laughter, joy and loud play, call for the day.
Clear blue sky defeats world's sad morbid grey.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-02-2020
Rhyme (Time And Its Magnificently Long Flowing Arc)
Note:
"Quod Perpetuus in suo circulo, praesentes vero illud omnino sacra et sacrificia
bona spe esse donari invenire poterit et beneficiis. "
Many forms of life populates
this watery planet where much
of it still remains to be found.
Trees as tall as buildings, flowers
that catch the essence of beauty,
animals of the strangest form that
they defy belief and plants that
have the ability to heal all wounds.
Still much of this life remains
locked up in forests that are larger
than the eye can see.
Sadly man is scarring the land with
destruction thus life is either
depleted or lost entirely only
to become a fairy-tale of what
could have been.
These sacred forests are home
to all sorts of life regardless
of how small but still man decides
to take what it wants forgetting
the laws of life – you take without
thinking and consequences will arise.
Someday these sacred forests will be
gone only leaving a barren landscape
where beauty does not exist.
But beauty is resilient for land
never remains barren for long
for life is ever healing the
scars that man creates but sadly
once a life form has gone it has
no way of coming back for man
has erased its being from this
watery planet but still seeds
are spread by the wind, water
and carried by life itself to
almost every part of the land that
has become our home.
As time passes by sacred forests
sprout once more and life once
again secretly evolves providing
man with another chance to change
its ways.
Anon! The shadow chilled, mimikri and frosted with domineering dogma.
Thou wast trying escape and melt with thy magna carta.
The shadow was asking thee about crossroad and miniatur epic.
Who always doth fighting versus tyrannical peasant of lingua sacra?
Nay! The shadow given the souls and was sparkling in purgatory, but the light is so poor.
Accepted the unfathomable ferocity,
yearning all the while as patriacal era?
Aberrant behavior is chalked forth to tradition by robbed some of its faith, aroint thee!
Canonized the triumphant for dram of science or saint paramilitia?
Neither of these seems as blurring and ambigu answer.
Why should not members of the holy
suffering paranoia?
The shadow already blended patriach rebels, prithee!
His eyes twinkled criptically as luminated magenta and elegia.
The shadow built antedates canonization and say, "God-den Padre, gramercy!"
He goes through on his hurlyburly journey and ever reflected pareidolia.
Five beldams ate many doits, flying in the dunnest sky.
The shadow was striking tabor, unyoke, hasta la vista!
A simple one life,
is contrast to the urbanites,
less emphasis on punishments.
Wealthy and powerful people,
create new beliefs and holy books.
Government capitals,
and corporate stocks,
rent heaven and hell.
Pilgrimage of silicon valley,
depicts religious chants.
Clergious environmentalist,
chews street food.
Crown chakra, divine connector
Entwined with a pure heart
Summit of each in-form vector
When we add love to cart
An open fontanel
Path to God’s miracle
Making complex, simple
God sacra
Crown chakra
09-February-2022
Quietus
Just like a germinating node,
so are the childishly preened pudenda load.
Ecstasy in fluffs of dew are bestowed
as croissants for neonate are getting bold.
Silky gazelle of a nymphet endowed with
sacra enshrouded in rotund paunch.
Void of fangs and mouth befitting are the teeth
of the edifice in humanoid with no grouch.
The seed of yesterday grown into belle
with dribbling tactics like that of Pele.
Flaunting is the resolved fate
of the sacred supplements to beckon dates.
Beauty turns a bristly cave to hot zone.
Porously damaged by the bruises of intruders than ozone.
Countless are the palms that perched on bristols.
Maw sleazily sips syllabub of bullets from pistols.
The sacrosanct abode is completely looted.
Detritus is what left in meretricious package for the prudent
who services in honour of the temple,
even though he is deprived of sacred virtue.
No sooner did she coruscate
than bean cake burst into hot palm oil.
The past becomes a hunter of the present,
so once valued lifestyle turns to toy.
Seductive lustre of her face turns to squeezed monster
by the harvest of sacrilegious treats
deliquesced to sweep away the sacred grace offered
as a companion and visa to yonder.
Bedridden attire inextricably adorns the body of a raver.
Cosmetically pimped face is decked with burnt patches.
Pimps desert their client in company of debilitated beavers.
Sacred virtue that breeds grace is not found to save its owner.
Venetian artist Carlo Crevelli
once imprisoned for adultery
Used the sacra conversazione
with a Gothic fantasy
Guru chakra maintains vigil
Regulating bliss heat
No sooner we surrender will
God’s touch has heart upbeat
Soma begins to flow
Then thus does, our soul grow
Through five sheaths, conduits glow
Master sacra
Guru chakra
11-February-2022
Quietus
Se fosse tutto vero e fosse solo sincerita',
mi aspetteresti, non saresti sopraffata dalla trauma
e mettere in scena il tuo dramma teatrale:
che peccato e' vedere una stella esplodere su di me!
If all were true and it were only sincerity,
you would wait for me and not let trauma
overwhelm you and act out your theatrical drama;
it's such a pity to watch a star explode on me!
Tutti siamo all' estremo della nostra abitudine...
vera o immaginaria: chi puo' mai sfuggire
al destino? La sola consolazione e' di restare
vicino, senza arrabiarsi e gridare parole vane!
We all reach the end of our painful extremes,
whatever they are real or founded on imagination:
who can escape fate? The only consolation
is to stay closer without shouting vain words!
L'unica consolazione e' la sacra fiducia,
la solenne promessa che restera' intatta
e ci rafforzera' nei giorni piu' difficili;
si, crederemo nei momenti piu' felici!
The only consolation is the sacred trust,
the solemn promise that will remain intact...
it'll strengthen us in the toughest times;
yes, we'll believe in the happiest moments!