"Humans delight in the comfort of friends.
If not, the joy of commingling ends."
__by Poet
My neighbor, next door, remains single-
It seems she knew not how to mingle.
She refused to join in
And would not let us win-
Just stayed in her human-proof dingle.
One day, we created a jingle
Hoping it would send her a tingle!
“Joining groups, so much fun
You'll be pleased when it's done!”
She hung her “do not disturb" shingle!
She never did quite intermingle-
Strong neighbor support soon did dwindle.
So she missed the delight
Of her God-given right-
To share in the joys to commingle.
both heated palms and vibrant soles of feet
commingle ushering heightened delight
borne by divine sublime magnetic heat
revealing light of Self, soft white and bright,
assuring us that we will be alright.
Enlivened spine and chakras join the show,
as soma nectar within starts to flow.
quiescent heart and vibrant spirit
enlivened by bliss beats commingle
manifests within delightful surprises
ushered when pheromones mingle
“The aforesaid five objects, which are the negative attributes of the five electricities, being combined produce the idea of gross matter in its five forms: Ki, solids; Ap, liquids; Tejas, fire; Marut, gaseous substances; and Akasa, ether.
These five forms of gross matter and aforesaid fifteen attributes, together with Manas, Mind, sense consciousness; Buddhi, discriminative Intelligence; Chitta, the Heart or power of feeling; and Ahamkara, the Ego, constitute the twenty-four basic principles of creation.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
In the realm of heaven, our eye is single
but with no adversities to overcome,
so the one becomes two and then they jingle
propelled by the power of the cosmic hum
and in the five elements they commingle,
ego distanced from heart, though soul is welcome.
Poised thus in subject-object relationship,
we discover God when love is our flagship.
Waking, dreaming and deep sleep,
offer a consciousness leap,
if we be therein awake,
focus firm, calm like a lake.
In staid stillness choose to meld,
with space between objects held,
that thus our eye then single,
in-form pheromones mingle.
Bliss mists deeply penetrate,
each offered consciousness state,
that though awareness may dip,
presence gives ego the slip.
Immanent yet transcendent,
breath by breath, bliss resplendent,
chakras whir, boundaries blur;
with love and light, we concur.
Whether outward or inward,
ego lust is untoward,
so if all that is be Om,
in all states, Self is our home.
Turiya or the fourth state,
staid peace that does not abate,
witnesses the play of light,
centred in drunken delight.
The Self in heart does anoint,
itself at a stillness point,
wherefrom all states then arise,
beheld by us in surprise.
When our soul’s eye is single,
all three states then commingle
but until then we’re trapped,
light of Self by ego capped.
As awareness self-aware,
if dark desires we outstare,
in Turiya, the fourth state,
we fulfill our ordained fate.
of the chakras seven, where energies play
prior to refraction of the rainbow’s hues
the zone where polarities commingle
glows God’s light in heart’s womb
light of a star, viewed from afar
the bubbling joy of children at play
building sand castles on the sea shore
soul’s smile at morn when stretch and yawn
pristine snow flakes mark birth of empathy
enabling us to hold the hand of a beggar
the agendaless vibrance of innocence
hastens to forgive errant brothers
coming of age, compassion dawns
the robe of a pope, the symbol of purity
recognising underlying unity of the universe
love’s luminosity expands beyond all horizons
bliss magnetism pulsates in mind-body prism
we become love’s flame that has no name
touched by spirit our eye is now single
pulse mirroring heartbeat of God
Our soul invoked a divine scent,
the wafting breeze, it came and went,
renewing at will, love’s bliss tease,
which when faded, made heart lament.
We wish this rapture does not cease
but angels dance as they do please,
caging us in the after-burn,
longing from which there’s no release.
Here now within mind-body urn,
toroidal currents make nodes churn
and as pheromones so mingle,
touch of grace is the boon we earn.
Oh hermit, making eye single,
each cell of form feels this tingle,
fragrance of fairies, here on earth,
as God and soul, so commingle.
If this magnetism we’d unearth,
each breath must usher soul’s rebirth,
free from fetters of lower mind,
whence heaven reveals our true worth.
One with oneness, loving and kind,
with divine pulsations aligned,
doing nothing, save being still,
one day this secret we shall find.
How do you balance
the kind and the cruel
The good and the bad
of life’s golden rule
As reason pulls tightly,
treason pulls back
Living in conflict,
together intact
Tragic, comedic,
while often as both
Angels and Demons
commingle betrothed
A savior, destroyer,
calling our name
A garden of riches
—caught in the flames
(Haverford College: February, 2021)
The so silent quiet depths out of which
all of my so secret passions do imbue
onto my landscape they transform into
colorful cosmos of kaleidoscopes and
ideas falling evenly through the chasm.
And as if that weren’t quite enough so
along come some taunting tantalizing
bends, sharply risking onward along
swiftly until, subtly cavorting crash
and commingle sultry scenes splash
spill swirl then linger so harmoniously.
And just in time too for as suddenly a
myriad oasis of images undulate careen
tumble turn untangling and unfolding
out of daydreams inspirations passions
flourish calmly curiously from prisms
in my mind meander so gently forth.
To finally unfold gloriously out of my
contemplation into realization to look
lovingly serenely at me from this page
creased and torn came my dreams from
the so silent quiet depths out of which
all of my so secret passions do imbue.
(click on my pic to purchase my book of poetry!)
Frosty air tingles
Sleigh bells jingle
Gleeful hearts
-- and song --
commingle
Here comes
Kris Kringle!
We enter
this realm,
like a pebble
into a
pond.
Immediately
we leave
ripples.
As we
move along,
the ripples
grow
interacting
with other
ripples
an ocean
of ripples.
Our ripples
commingle
influence.
Cascading
influence
over time.
Positive ripples
or
negative, greedy
ripples.
Which will we
leave behind?
In the end,
will it be
about power
and money,
or,
the ripples
of kindness
that will change
it all, and
reflect
well
on our
passage.
I loved you from the very first day
Amidst the noise of dish and tray
And the people that attached to them
For I was caught up in this hymn-
A song written solely of brown
And I began to cherish the sound
'Cause your eyes were as notes of changing tune
As high and as low as an evening moon
Yet, always to commingle free
And provide the sweetest melody
Your skin and hair would then combine
To produce a soft and wavy rhyme
Each verse would touch the heart and soul
Trouncing my heart with its gentle loll-
The birds of song that come in Spring
Envy the song of brown you sing
And I have never felt so fine
Your song is in this heart of mine
The sky looks so much bluer
And the grass a deeper green
the trees are stronger, taller
As I think I’ve ever seen
The sunshine brighter
Clouds are whiter
Every step I take is lighter
All around is suddenly alive in every way
Am I high
About to die
Should I scream, or laugh, or cry
And why does my skin tingle
All my senses now commingle
It must be love.
His thoughts go off like bombs inside his mind,
so deafening, so poisonous, so doomed
to thrash against a dam of memories
that take him back to hopeful yesterdays.
His thoughts will shout but never make a sound,
his mind as sharp as when we was a boy.
His body, once so strong, has flickered out
like flames that reach the end of blackened wick.
His head is full of words he longs to speak,
but in this hell, he cannot move his lips.
As constant tremors steal his weathered pen,
his stranger-hands will never touch again.
He yearns to feel her porcelain petal-skin,
to count the fervent beats beneath her chest.
But she can only kiss his hollow cheek
where salty tears commingle in despair.
She sits with him and holds his withered hand.
She runs her shaking fingers through his hair.
He needs to see her soft, angelic face
until his lungs can't hold another breath.
Dedicated to those with ALS and anyone who has had to watch a loved one suffer through this terrifying disease
Now sat among the debris of the day
confused and helpless as a child at birth,
his senses pounding hard within his frame -
mixed messages of equilibrium.
All frames of reference cast into a jar,
commingle as a coalescent broth
into a jumble of perceptiveness,
now pushing to be free beyond his mind.
At last the signal snakes down to his lips
and snaps his jaw awake as breath is sought;
feeds hungry lungs which roar within his chest
and urge his flesh to swell against the press.
New vistas draw a whisper from his throat
a new word not yet spoken … Tsunami.
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.