Best Stuporous Poems
In the ethereal domain
Ascended masters we revere are seen
Thus soul’s ascension seems endless
Is the clear knowing from this that we glean
We are as yet in a primitive stage
Myriad fears and desires still bemuse
Awareness stuporous, we flounder in darkness
Falling prey every time, to ego’s ruse
Of what use are scriptures, if we heed them not
All that’s asked of us is we learn to love
The path too has been clearly mapped out
Let head meld with heart, acting hand in glove
We are ignorant, knowing not who we are
We’re fearful to let go of lower mind
Tragic it is, we know not we’re living light
To glory of our soul, we remain blind
22-July-2022
Categories:
stuporous, mystery, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
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:
stuporous, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
enlivened by the wafting breeze
a deep desire arose
heart was hesitant to release
rapture within that grows
walkers, runners, both young and old
shared gifts of Mother Earth
the void heard all stories untold
of both sorrow and mirth
as of our stuporous routine
we walk the path clockwise
this habit leaves some sights unseen
which we do realise
one with both the formless and form
our heart hummed a soft tune
swathed in bliss mists both cool and warm
with existence we commune
Categories:
stuporous, introspection, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
Where could you be tonight, Sinatra?
Love and Marriage
Love and Marriage
A chant I heard reverberate
As far away as the length of the waves
I rode indisposed
When I was bound
To a remote island
Named Buyukada
The permanent content of what you mean
Transcends me the moment I kiss your lips
And I know that meaning is produced
Only in an unexpectedly rambunctious union
Succinctly, I dissect everything
Looking for generic terms I left
Back somewhere in Kadikoy
At nine o’clock sharp near the theater
Where I heard a beautiful young voice
Lamenting Istanbul in operatic tempos
Barbarossa Hayreddin Pasha
Fatih Sultan Mehmet
Jalal al-Din Rumi
All proceeded towards Istanbul again
Alas! Nothing remains the same
Everything is only revisited once again
Even the empty sunflower fields of Kutahya
Detach yourself, postmodern Kerouac,
From the vicissitudes of a stuporous life
Isolate yourself from mundane places
Where nothing transcends the ephemeral
I know that I will meet a deadline
Just because life manifests itself
Unintentionally in those experiences I weave
I thought my days could end
On a ship to Prince’s Island bound
Alas, a Russian girl took me aside
To recount her Icelandic memories
To a dismembered Moorish heart
Categories:
stuporous, journey, loneliness, love, travel,
Form:
Free verse
Skeletons hang from family trees
Swinging in closets we don't see
Attention drawn to rattling bones
As memories dance and gremlins groan
Scratching an itch of dark pretend
Beckoning demons echo within
The thread of life, a toxic pin
To sew on garments made of skin
On dusty saddles or plain bareback
Monkeys ride a bloody track
Whip and spur a savage attack
In weakened moments as will power slacks
With reddened face, a chemical air
Rushes the body and tickles the hair
The stomach knots, the brain impaired
Demonic angels arrive to share
In numbing sleep at gallop pace
The mouth is dry from just a taste
A stuporous madness in mindless haste
While skeletons laugh right in your face
!
An original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Categories:
stuporous, abuse, addiction, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Last night about you I had a dream
Punching the marketplace time clock
“Morning Ralph, Morning Sam” and so it seemed
At work we always laughed a lot
You came to me and lotioned your hands
With the candle I made just for you
We stole a lunch of fruit from your mothers’ bins
And I bought us cheese enough for two
There we sat planning our next run
A decent Friday night pizza we did seek
Living in the hills of Carolina was no fun
The bland food left us feeling weak
This Morning I remembered when I moved away
I feared to leave you in such a state
A sensitive soul with no ability to pray
I never imagined your fate
By phone in your voice, I heard your subtle cry
But I could offer only words
At the end of a frigid long distance line
I was afraid you would succumb to your hurts
Then one winter night, I heard of your plight
Words still hanging in the stuporous air
“He gave up the fight, he took his own life”
As if you didn’t even care
Categories:
stuporous, friendship, sad, suicide,
Form:
Rhyme
We have been up, down, sideways and phased
displaced by lonely nights aimed to raise
shunning suns of spun solitary pains.
Numerous strains of darkness dispensed from
fights ceaselessly warn my stuporous heart
that wrongs now death drag the good our love had.
Whenever the quiet is still
and I’m alone with silence,
I ache for an easing of our pain,
seek release of our twin aches
and pray a deep heart speak begins
to end our souls’ toils in foils opaque.
Whenever life is in motion
and time moves thru feels stolen,
I feel like a mockery as your wife,
as an anomaly to your true self
and my spirit sits with matrimony
fears and loneliness rife striped with limits.
I am good enough to live harmoniously as me
but I am an awkward bluff in this union of us.
I wish to no longer cry into tear damp pillows
while gaps clamp me to our shared bed’s edge.
Let our hearts stretch towards our once best middle
to find bye's that spare love further death dwindle.
... CayCay
August 24, 2019
Categories:
stuporous, heartbreak, identity, loneliness, longing,
Form:
Free verse
stuporous
guard down
past tendencies
rise within instinctively
manifesting as rage
condoned by ego
as being fleeting
thus leaving residue
of past animal nature
within our radiant soul
the faint traces
of identity nurtured
enables us to bilocate
between the immanent
and the transcendent
unique wabi-sabi stains
like the spots on the moon
diminish not soul’s beauty
but rather accentuate
innate luminosity
we forgive ourself
21-March-2023
Categories:
stuporous, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
“If God omnipresent, He must be resident within
We must feel then now, bliss tremors on our skin”
__________________
Been there, done that
Fleeting pleasures fall flat
Mitigated pleasure of intimacy
Foiled by stuporous delinquency
Where may be found zenith rapture
Raising stature above body caricature
Where peaked ecstasy each throb renews
Climax unending as soma nectar bliss spews
Restless Anna set off on an adventurous world tour
Lifestyle bohemian, French-kissing many a boor
She tried Kama-Sutra, frolicked with Shamans
Finally all proved to be ephemeral liaisons
Her heart burning with ardent yearning
She found not that ecstasy enlivening
Upon reaching point of exhaustion
Surrendered, entering meditation
A voice then broke the silence
‘Choose divine entwined parlance
Here and now, in this feeble mind-body
Meld head with heart resting desires shoddy’
Anna did as was told and in timeless time, behold
Polarities within form manifested ineffable bliss untold
Hidden conduits throbbed with magnetic electricity
Radiating from within, climaxing joy in continuity
Anna now knows, in being and so becoming
Vibrant blissful soul presence scintillating
Bliss bubbles burst, quenching her thirst
From head to toe in bliss so immersed
Thunderous rapture within pulsates
To the music divine her heart gyrates
Moment by moment, all moments be one
Her aura radiating glow of the spiritual sun
16-August-2021
Anna And The French Kiss Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
stuporous, kiss, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
our fault line
is ego
so what’s next
can we shed
each belief
here and now
seems we can’t
so dream on
in stupor
20-March-2023
Tricube
Categories:
stuporous, introspection,
Form:
Other
i emptied my heart, dug deep within,
peeled off the layers of dust
that smeared my life.
i turn this way – the dust
chokes my head.
i turn that way – the dust swirls
around, engulfing me yet again.
my wound stings, my head spins,
my heart aches.
NOW!
i watch helplessly
as The Hand erases all the fingerprints
from each page of lined paper.
Existence is swallowed by the rag
with which The Hand swabs viciously.
the pine fragrance lingers.
my wound raw, my head stuporous
my heart sore.
Categories:
stuporous, angst, loss, sad, heart,
Form:
Free verse
any agenda
deflecting focus
away from the Self
for more than one breath
is a stuporous trance
genesis of delusion
anchoring us here
15-December-2022
Categories:
stuporous, introspection, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
Time has passed by since I wrote
No awards received, not even a vote
Book shelves are filled with all the best sellers
Libraries kept mine down in their cellars.
I tossed out the old glass oil lamp
It let me down when I wrote at my camp
I was alone there, and never disturbed
Accept for those squawking blue jays, I got perturbed.
Warm inside, plenty of wood in the box
I would feed the scavengers including the fox
Plenty of writing paper and now new quills
Denture cream supply and my arthritic pills.
Maybe if I write in unique styles
There wouldn’t be frowns, only smiles
Publishes would not answer my calls
Bookstores closed their door on me at the malls.
With a quill in hand and blue lined paper
I decided to write a mystery caper
I need a plot, but will leave out a clue
Thought of Jekyll and Hyde, but that won’t do.
Writing is difficult, hard to make a living
No sales have been made, no one is giving
Maybe I should change my pen name
That would look better in the poet’s hall of fame.
I dipped my quill into the ink jar
Came up with a enticing title of ‘pappy ol’ pa’
Pappy was a word that I had to find its rhyme,
Now that my ink well is low, I am almost out of time.
I know my poems don’t always rhyme
It’s because after dinner I always have wine.
I’ll write literature books like Longfellow
I am lost for words, I’m just too mellow.
Sip up some liqueur for a nip and tuck
Then go for my classics and try your luck
Being a bit stuporous you’ll get through
But mine are better than Nancy Drew.
I tried writing something for a classical piece
Halfway through the music the conductor ceased
I had added words to Bach’s Fugue in d minor
Was there something else that would be finer?
So now you can see how hard writing can be
Happy Lark is my pen name, but you don’t know me.
Categories:
stuporous, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
love, wisdom and power
as the threefold flame of Christ
until imbibed and assimilated
signals awareness is as yet barren
stuporous consciousness sedated
Categories:
stuporous, love, spiritual, wisdom,
Form:
Rhyme
our stuporous awareness
determined to co-create
is quite prone to falter
doublethink the thought
this time from the heart
using love as a compass
06-March-2023
Categories:
stuporous, heart, introspection, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse