To French cast Frederic Berjot.
You made iconic art statues, venerable.
You had no idea what was impossible.
Your Iris bust's cast centrum inherit
Within the void that is my spirit.
Only raw art may cure soul abyss,
I adored each shattered artifice.
Shape may your lust conjure,
holy ecstasy is codified by a codger
Written: May 05, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Sculpture-Iris/652278/1789565/view
https://fredericberjot.com/2016/10/20/body-casting-sculptures/
Attention flow
in quanta of time
Let it be mellow
a loving chime
Void of cessation
when trance ends
Throb of elation
to which ego bends
Stretching the void
deepening the silence
In bliss overjoyed
is pristine innocence
Merging and melting
ego with the divine
The non doer doing
is in stillness to align
Once we vaporise
as a bliss mist
No ego left to size
we cease to resist
Awareness unbroken
a flowing continuum
Soma nectar partaken
each node our centrum
07-September-2020
The world of viruses come
With lots unwanted gum.
Quick Heal is a family album
Where I can reject all scum
And freely continued my rhumb.
Viruses for all are season autumn,
Looking into browsers is alum,
Inserting memory cards darksome,
Quick Heal software is awesome.
Don’t worry! You are safe at bottom.
Browsing was like a deep chasm
From where Hacking my info a custom,
All these malwares made me a glum.
At this point came Hoary dictum
Quick Heal is the best centrum.
Antivirus software is an Ashram
Where all viruses to rest swum.
Quick Heal saves from boredom.
Quick Heal software is awesome.
After a soot rain
the grey fear moved centripetally, seeking centrum;
thoughts, saffron colored, in the words
went mute.
You were still searching the head,
of a nameless torso, in a heap of your failures.
The river had run dry.
Why were you trying to revise the script
of anthem after the man made inferno ?
A mushroom cloud was heading this way.
Ah, the prickly lips still eject the same
agenda for dualism,
now the yellow metal was nickel-plated.
Outside the stoic redemption falls the reality.
Man had become a crypt on a grave
of less guilty.
Satish Verma