Best Transcendental Poems
Incandescent illusions of massive transfusions
For we are all trapped in tautological time
There is no escape for when you awake
A punitive prisoner that has committed no crime
Silent components dictate progressive opponents
Any resistance is pointless regardless of pace
Metaphysical complication an intellect's dilation
Enthusiastic ecclesiastics question the race
For if time is an arrow through the nefarious narrow
A paradoxical passenger in the line of thought
We travel through seasons without any reasons
Our vanquishable views left to rapaciously rot
Time is no adversary, each breath is temporary
It has no value for destiny, no respect for fate
What use are monetary needs in a mortuary
All is lost when the heart is in a motionless state
Then time swallows whole our collective soul
Radiolucent ruins amidst residual ravenous rust
Tumultuous time carries on to a new distant dawn
For we return to the earth as decompositional dust.
July/26/2017
Collaboration...Silent One/Winged Warrior
Not for any contest...
...welcoming back an old friend from the Soup...
He enters into a deep trance
The soft music nudges him on
A lucid dreamer he is now
He gains transcendence
A soul travellor he is now
The secrets time and space
His to master his to explore
He has a taste of the divine
He is jolted back to our ream
His skin tingling with static
Purity of heart and mind elevates Man's consciousness to the sphere of transcendental light!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
08 August 2017
Bergson* contemplated
To the core and found;
Immediate experience
And intuition are reality in whole,
Science and rationalism
Follows them in pursuit due.
(* French Thinker)
Their elan and their eclat only made my ennui bloom
It made me long, made me yearn for the womb or tomb
When given carte blanche by the dilettante masses
I found my creative spirit to be lacking true passions
I pined to be a paradoxical paragon, a peculiar paradigm,
An anomaly in the cacophony, not a soldier in peacetime
I had a feeling of deja vu while they bantered and prattled
In the baroque anteroom I was illuminated yet addled
To be avant-garde, nay, prototypical, I must make them look inside
To see the truth, to eschew the ersatz, to embrace what's bona fide
Most everything written
(and learned ya in school)
Yukon coon sitter, (and bet
your bottom dollar) tibia bunch
of contrived information
all details bu...bu...bull...low knee
within this poetic missive
after spending a lifetime crunch
ching numbers, the following
singularly just my hunch,
but despite minuscule
approximate i.e. kid size lunch
meal, (sans two clenched fists,
and weighing about 1.5 kilograms),
not much to munch,
yet if smacked in the kisser
by a pugilist visited
square in the jaw deadly (Judy hush
hiss) sucker punch
whereby the unlucky
recipient may see "unlucky stars"
after brows severely scrunched,
thee above poppycock, and potentially
"FAKE" though (Ripley deed lee)
believe able to ye,
nonetheless behooves me
to segue-way (by Segway) to pre
sent a "TRUE" revelation see
(gnome hatter, aye
cheese silly contradict
mice elf alias Stuart Little) prithee
please just accept what I write
with a grain of salt
(from the Sultan Sea),
cuz yawl do yarself grave
injury and lodge a gree
vance against this harmless
right ham handed cree
chore from the outer limits
of the twilight zone, thus
I STRONGLY ADVISE thee,
NOT to stake eh knee
un mensch chin hubble cogitation,
and figuratively swallow,
hook, conga line
and sinker thine highly suspect re
dunk yule us gobbledygook mee
cully (meekly) reed this
more so asthma
childish entertainment, hence oak key
jist put aside any urgent task
to revel as sigh bee
devil logical syntax
with sum man tricks
playfully wasting yar
precious time free
cully (freakily) inventing outlandish nee
incoherent yawping, towering,
and brutally butchering,
Brooklyn speak (homer over
mayor later mother), she
nearly always... er added
letters "er" at'er the ender
her sentences - er stain?
. for public domain
We experience returning with clarity,
from where thought is not just a rarity,
it does not exist,
we let silence persist,
as the two blend together in parity.
With speech and action a similarity,
as they gain with silence familiarity.
When all's said and done,
they all become one
consciousness unified in solidarity.
We practice programs with regularity,
with diligence, ease, and sincerity.
Our lives join the bliss,
not a moment remiss,
and blessings we bequeath to posterity.
To Your transcendental music my soul dances my Lord minding its steps your choreography to observe!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
11 July 2017
Transcendental love
Descends from heaven to earth
Souls' jubilation!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
14 December 2019
Temporary nirvana (albeit elusive),
nonetheless I strive to access
attaining bliss mine soul bless
exceeding exhilaration winning
(with fewest moves against
deadly opponent) bittersweet game,
where life analogous playing chess
mortality embraced hesitantly, I confess
gnarled, knotted, pitted... old fingers
wrinkled mottled flesh doth dress
unavoidable senescence
upon body politic mortality doth express,
though severely myopic,
yours truly eyewitness
self positing query,
asper meaning of life
oft times rhetorical question fathomless
lacking satisfactory resonance,
this mind strives to second guess
time spent probing haphazardness,
asper gaining insightful purposefulness...
coalesces, sans clarity when idleness
experiences Zen, albeit approximately
inducing light trance smooths jaggedness
inviting mindfulness, lucidness, keenness...
absolute zero distraction eases lamentableness
assuaging, deepening, massaging
psychological state with limitless
ascendence toward manageableness
decreasing mental din and clangor
allowing, enabling, providing...
cerebral nearsightedness
to escape into temporary nothingness,
a foretaste of eternal obliviousness
free from preponderant woes,
incessant sweaty palms, a painless
dimension unfeeling unimaginable quietness
impossible to envision raptness,
when death be not proud reiterates stillness
silencing roiling tempestuousness!
In reality
You’re more human than you seem,
The truth is, you’re more
Than just a human being:
You are so transcendental.
I moved from one cave to another
out of fear of the demons tempting me,
and so, I discovered that in the wilderness
everything bears the color of darkness.
In the absence of love and kindness,
I accepted the embrace of death
with the smile of a person who thinks
that beyond the light, the dark is beautiful.
I separated my soul from being
in the azure of a spring morning,
when butterflies and birds staged
a masterful annual spectacle.
Patiently, eternity dressed my soul
with the insomnia of the Universe,
and to not feel loneliness, it threw me
into a void full of twinkling stars.
Suspended Transcendental Meditative State...
Temporarily relieves, loosens,
and detaches worldly weight,
albeit bearing heavily straight
away upon well balanced,
awk credited miniature oblate
spheroid, sans cranial
dome to help alleviate
this principled capital one citizen banker,
whose penurious plight
seeks to make lightweight
oppressive burden clawing
(with razor sharp talons)
tete a tete upon pate
never to abate
pennilessness, which oppressive monetary
crisis could abbreviate
livingsocial, and spur me to abdicate
charade, facade minted "FAKE"
dog and pony Truman
kaput show, doth accelerate
velocity at which body
electric will demonstrate
how basket of deplorable
pauperism existence I abominate
past the tipping point to relish,
where being in the red
financially doth accentuate
swiftness yours truly will acclimate,
where among grave
mausoleums will accommodate
finding yours truly to acculturate
adjusting being housed
with grateful dead help facilitate
mine written posthumous decomposition
once Hades will activate
leverage - haggling with ferryman,
which latter might equivocate
par for the course, especially demise,
asper cessation circumlocution prone
fella never to tubby a freight
of becoming deceased
signifying no more flapping gums
asthma lovely bones disintegrate
into basic constituent matter
repurposed into essence, I cannot intimate.
Traveling the
transcendental highway
early in the morning,
simply an extension
of my daily yoga.
The great semis zip by
in both directions,
like elephants on roller skates
in the first light,
only a flat tire away
from disaster.
Like a zen master I travel
with the knowledge of a thousand days
behind, in front of, around, on the curve
effortlessly, without thought, immersed in thought,
hitting my marks,
Lakeville highway at 5:22,
Highway 37 at 5:37.
One little bead on a tail light chain,
and sometimes other masters from
a thousand trips will be recognized,
and we will travel together for awhile,
safe in the knowledge
that no one will make the mistakes of
the occasional traveler.
On most days, however,
this is a solitary trip,
with body alert and automatic pilot on,
the mind transcends time and space,
and answers to old questions appear,
poetry sprouts from magic synapses,
and many times I have created a world
of only me and you,
and all the things that I should have said
and done,
could have said and done,
are done,
all in the limitless space between
points A and B.
The old Greek had it right. If you touch an
infinitude of points,
you'll never get there.
But I am not that good yet
and still skip a few points,
and at 6:10 the stop light
on Golf Course road
interrupts the transcendental highway,
and a more mundane day begins,
In my travels
I seek thee
Amongst the snow capped mountains,
The scenic valleys,
Meandering rivers
That meets the turquoise sea
The rolling meadows
And sprinkling streams
The azure sky above
Connect me to the supreme being
A transcendental journey
That invigorates and rejuvenates me
On a spiritual level