each morn reborn an urge arises
to pen some words on God’s bliss hum
our prayer is a whisper in the void
yearning to align with the cosmic drum
mind-body vessel drifts through space
within consciousness, a small bubble
gross vibrations from it have departed
all that remains now is a small stubble
bliss magnetism has something to say
benign burn both cajoling and compelling
we are reeled in to the now continuum
where perhaps residual fears need quelling
flimflam Freddy, Frankenville’s only funeral director
actively sought out numbskulls, dimwits and nitwits
an expert in cajoling them into signing contracts
assuring them that their funerals would be exquisite
he verbally mentioned doves, orchestra, and magic shows
none of this was in the contract they signed
a contract that guaranteed nothing
a contract that assured him of unbelievable amounts of money
funerals that cost others six thousand,
cost these nimb-nuts twenty thousand
in teeny tiny print it mentioned that additional expenses might be incurred
and they were
It’s a little bit warmer,
Much better than colder,
For time’s a transformer
And thus, I am older.
We’re subject to weather
Beyond our controlling
And, lone or together,
There is no cajoling
Since Nature likes toying
With our expectations
And, though it’s annoying,
We make adaptations.
The heaviest jacket
Is not what I’m wearing.
This cold, we can hack it,
But I am preparing
For temps to start crashing
Once we think we’re past it
As Nature, eyes flashing,
Will once again blast it.
Locked in a flow sweet and gentle,
bubbling and warm it’s so calming.
Finding peace was accidental,
this rose quartz rivulet rolling.
Your prose with it’s edge cajoling
allowed my sensual side to rise.
A mere glance at this blush growing
is sure to melt those stone cold eyes.
Upon the light of a new dawn
my adrenaline starts to rise.
I get after it with guns drawn,
the daily prize is that surprise.
I’m carrying lethal supplies,
my blood is on boil and rolling
A remedy like newborn skies,
this new day whispers cajoling.
drawn to a fragrance we claim as our own
as the pull divine propels us along
path strewn with rose petals we walk alone
attuned to the throb of the cosmic gong
cajoling glowing heart to sing soul’s song
doing nothing save following the scent
granting love consent paves way for ascent
“Self observes waking, dreaming and deep sleep ~
In stillness taking a consciousness leap”
~ quote by poet
Relying on instincts in the dream state,
there remains neither logic nor free will,
as we accept therein, our ordained fate,
with no knowledge of our inherent skill.
Perhaps the waking state too is a dream,
conjured by an unknown force in control,
cajoling us to dance on fate’s moon beam,
which we accept as our destined life role.
Waking or dreaming, for soul is the same,
if detached consciousness be self-aware,
with neither fears nor desires left to tame,
having no needs, save a breath of fresh air.
Detached and nonchalant to what appears,
divine dweller of our heart, life course steers.
here we are encased in body-mind
feeling incomplete, we wish to expand
we sense there is more to us than this
but who we are we do not understand
thought and senses are the tools we use
yet form decays and one day we will die
cognition operates in a limited spectrum
our heart’s secret desire is to wingless fly
trapped in the open we are yet free within
in time stretched silence when ego recedes
from a centreless fulcrum love calls to us
cajoling us to gentle our words and deeds
softening attention, our eye nonjudgmental
we are then with our inner voice connected
the false falls away, light of Self is revealed
soul stands erect, stooped stance corrected
And in this hot summer night
I dream of April rose sprouting
Coming innocently bloom looking
Too many colors wishing to greet
Every heart coming to fruition
Morning has come I wake up joyful
No more nightmares in the night
Early birds I heard their songs
Busy bees I see them stride lately
Farmers in hats I feel your labor
Wife's cook cajoling in the kitchen
I see all are busy in my community
I observed these things with ease
I smile this cup of tea in my hand
Feeling at ease now and contented
Summer here I am ready to mingle.
"Planes"
Sea planes cross my vision
the bridge gleams
in all its shining golden splendour
laughing at me
cajoling the dream
like I'm on an abstract mission
I paint the canvas in words dripping honey
amber coloured cashmere strokes softly brushing satin skin
over you dappled deep waters and your silvery shadows
recalling
the sensual shape of love
incorporal, velvet warm, flowing
in all its stars and planets
turquoise spills over you
the depth of a cool plunge
you watch on
I am treading water
an Opera in front of me
monsters underneath me
the feeling of silky fins
sandpaper grazes
the terror shelved in the forgotten
your bright smile bleeds
burning hot into me
calling me back in,
like the Sun;
somewhere underneath,
the monsters circling
watch on
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"She said, "The battle's almost won
And we're only several miles from the Sun"
the guru resides just below the crown
conjoined so to speak, He is one with God
He guides our path plugging energy leak
cajoling our heart to give love a nod
we are the universe, all is within
knowing we are That, we cannot be this
with this recognition we breathe slowly
invoking grace that form be filled with bliss
Aesthetic expectations, quomodocunquize,
An exasperating farrago of marketing lies,
Conning client desires,
While promising celestial skies.
In the "Selfie Era," so condescending,
Filters sculpting phantasmagoria, never-ending—
Painting a majestic illusion,
Regality of beauty, a fleeting delusion.
"Ageless," a dream that transcends all streams,
Flustering the mind’s membranes, it seems;
Cajoling artists, ripping through pockets,
A glamour tornado that ceaselessly rockets.
Embrace imperfections with pride,
Challenging the conventional tide.
Luminance flows from deep within,
"Mirror, Mirror, let self reflection begin".
storm clouds relentlessly
crashed on rock bottom
with the only crack dragging
wreckage and carnage through
a trapdoor into oblivious fog
gruelling sediment confined
a rotten Self of incarceration
the stakes were high
for being impaled
a sizzling cauldron
waiting for a sumptuous feast
manna from hell and a spell
on the barbed wire walls
just behind the firing squad
gift of despair cajoling
hope from the darkest
of abysmal recesses
a balancing act on a
thorny yet slippery cross
one road leading to nowhere
the other painful but promising
no middle way to be had
between death or surrender
fear of the unknown certainly
better than certain demise
Phoenix just be aware of
of the message of Icarus
then the moon will be
waning and waxing
in perpetual motion
dancing into the light
In the countryside, while walking
It was a joy to pick and eat wild guava
Papaya, star apple, lomboy, and berries
Our mouth always stained milky or purple
Life was so sweet to remember then
Going back and forth from school walking
We had this routine finding fruits at roadside
If we find one, all my school companions busy
Picking and cajoling the fruit tree's blessing
It's fun, joking and merry eating around the tree
Almost dusk we arrive home because of that gag
Until this moment of adulthood I can still recall
My high school days had never been that fun.
Poised in silence, doing nothing at all,
mindfully noticing movements in form,
observing ripples as they rise and fall,
breath simultaneously cool and warm,
deepens calm, cajoling us to conform.
Bereft of thought, ego cravings recede,
relinquishing will, which to God we cede,
with presence drenched in elixir of bliss,
pulsations of love then take up the lead,
that feeling complete, nothing is amiss.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.