This clinging dark
not death, not bloom
stilled in air.
Soft walls resist what dares to come
The skin forgets its former hue,
Will light find purchase there?
A hush before the body breaks,
not wing, not wound, but something near...
The splitting shell reveals a vast, cold, bright despair.
no sun, no storm
a silence shimmers sideways
no blue sea
I reach without knowing
am I the lock or the key
held in the shadow’s plea
both edges draw their border
this breath is not yet a name
I live between what will and won't be
Tesla 3-6-9
Writing
in margins
where words never go
The meaning
bipolar
whose ink doesn’t show
Living
inceptive
divorced from the light
Married
to emptiness
— unstringing my kite
(The New Room: July, 2025)
Blue on blue
a sandwich
of the sky and sea
clutching on
jealously
to the distant horizon.
They both join hands,
laugh,
and emit their
features,
creatures and apparitions.
Streaming towards you
like they're on
washing machine wringer rollers,
one spinning out and up
the other,
spinning out and down,
painting the scene
blue on blue,
silk-screened.
Seagulls soar.
Flying fish leap.
Dolphins hobby-horse.
Fishes flip, flop and swim.
Clouds billow and wallow along.
Waves rush onward with crests
on their chests.
All this and more, is rolled out at dawn,
then gets rolled away at dusk,
to wring another day.
Body consciousness, once bliss energised,
entwines toroidal heart with the head shell,
whereupon truth of Self is realised,
after stark fears and dark desires we bell,
freed at last from ego’s hypnotic spell.
As we are we be and so we become,
the flame sublime, synced with the cosmic hum.
betwixt the chaos and happiness
I'm feeling something
In the tranquil nature of wind
In the tranquil sounds of birds
In the tranquil calmness of the pond
I see a reflection of mine
and hope for the eternal peace
to put out the fire
to challenge the eldritch figure
who has destroyed my home
I've been vexed by my haunting dreams
I've been vexed by the actions I take
each step I take feels like dying
each breathe feels like perishing
each thought feels like confined
time to quell this nearer or beyond the horizon
clouds of uncertainty surrounds this question
all I know is a place in my mind
where tranquility takes over my soul
betwixt and between
caught in the middle of doubt
no way to turn
a whole manner of oodles saw
stuff piled under a shelf
a sofa on the ceiling
and a light fitting on the floor
there were gardens
in the living room
all his worth beyond the door
he walked off to the north aloud
opening a gate behind
tipped his hat at Jupiter
his shadow walked to the south
passing statues
in the street
and words flew into his mouth
as evening turned to morning’s ray
and he arrived
at the place he left
something‘s very odd today
and cars reversed
round straighten roads
he thought I must have lost my way
golly gosh betwixt said he twice
to anyone and all
what am I to do
he cried in hope of some advice
if I turn back now
I’ll sure be lost
but go from bad to nice
so back he went to evening’s head
to have another go
jumped into pyjamas
I’ll probably wake up dead
but what a day
I’ll get some sleep
and snuggled down in bed
the next day was the morning before
when all was new
and all had dawned
it started in a boiling pot of evermore
all in its place
and mirrored away
a day of straight not wobbly gore
It seems evil flourishes time after time.
Men follow cycles of hate, greed and crime,
mixed in with apathy, jealously, fear.
I’ve wondered the cause but it’s really quite clear.
For the war rages on betwixt Satan and God.
God requires faith in him and here’s what’s odd -
Satan does not require that we believe.
He has an effective gig going ‘twould seem.
He wins by the mere situation he’s got.
He wins whether we… believe in him or not.
Betwixt and between
Sadness and mirth
Happy but sad
For dear Mother Earth
Feeling sorry for
Adding to the mess
Not really aware
Of my part I confess
Betwixt and between
Feel guilty at times
Having so much
While others are crying
The worldwide problem
Of hunger and disease
Is difficult to remedy
Impossible to ease
Betwixt and between
I sit here and cry
'Bout the inequality
Don't understand why
Do we throw up our hands
Say nothing can be done
Go on and forget it
Just enjoying the sun
Betwixt and between
Filled with sadness and love
Gotta keep on trying
What Lies In The Betwixt And The Between
What lies in the betwixt and the between
Heaven and hell, this world's darkest of scenes
Mankind wallows in the deepest of sin
Parades in blackest deeds, from early teens
Dare we to such foul actions then decry
Whilst our own deep darkness we seek to hide
As we walk under the malevolent moon
Into a land devoid, absent of sky
From this dastardly dream, this nightmare I woke
My legs still broken, my tongue cut off
And a whisper carried from far away
Suffer some more, for this curse is no joke.
As my mind then realize I was fast asleep.
I thought something learned was very deep.
Robert J. Lindley, dark Sonnet
Jan. 25th 1974
"Search for truth and light for darkness destroys. "
Betwixt bliss beats, our soul’s aware
That all that is, is but God’s grace
And thus side stepping ego’s snare
We choose to exit life’s rat race
Childlike innocence paves the way
Betwixt bliss beats, our soul’s aware
That fears and desires make us sway
But we flow with nary a care
We wish to share but none can pair
With love’s vibrance we alone feel
Betwixt bliss beats, our soul’s aware
That God’s breath uplifts our heart’s zeal
There’s no doing we need to do
Entwined with love in an affair
As rapture renews, each hue new
Betwixt bliss beats, our soul’s aware
28-December-2022
God, make your shanty in my room
I firmly fathom, what's your doom
Your handle caused a million streams
Moonlight that bliss, within my dreams
Among moon insight, we'll resume
8th Place Contest Winner
Written: June 9, 2022
The Moon in June (Choose One of Five Forms) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
Betwixt-Between
I woke up
in a dream.
The smell of
tastes gone before.
Authentic tulips
blended with
plastic imitations.
"Bluie" chirping,
"CiCi" meowing at kitchen's door:
A cloak of weariness
vying for more
attention;
as I drift into a
light of sun...
Thama Logan 5/7/2022
he recalls childhood —
betwixt us honeysuckle
chest high chain link fence
scent lingers within
the boundary of neighbors —
heart’s swoon carries it
could i be that bird
that flutters its wings of time —
hover o’er the past
honeysuckle scent —
i come out the door to play
i look innocent
i’m not a poet
yet — just a scared little bird
in need of a friend
lang syne lingers with its scent
1/31/2022
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