one is a spark,
two is a clash,
three's a crowd bash
four twines the braid
squares up the sides
tradeoff abides
light the candle,
enjoy shared roles,
four conjoint souls
triad anguish
seeks a fourth goal
mandala whole
VANISHING POINT
Does the end of life explode in a blaze of glory
Or constantly diminish toward a distant point
With few left interested in hearing one’s story
And the absence of future days will disappoint
The prospect never considered in one’s youth
As today and tomorrow seemed to be conjoint
I fear the later view is much closer to the truth
With each day in doubt of another tomorrow
As it feels like being in a fortune teller’s booth
Yet there is no need for any sadness or sorrow
Who can tell how far away the ending may be
And no motivation left to beg steal or borrow
Precise timing is of course, very difficult to see
As one must concede there’s reduced visibility
Haven't the brains of beings fractioned into lobes various?
The hearts of creatures have dissections multifarious;
My physique and psyche got several separations,
Like a train or a shelf, yet, these have conjoint relations...!
Classifications and categorizations are good,
If, like good deeds, they're optimistically understood;
Like roots, shoots, and fruits, the sentimental segmentation,
Just as constellations, should have a proper fixation...!
Boundaries are for safety and security we know,
Forming only frontiers, we shouldn't our strength and senses show;
Grouping of goals and prioritization of morals,
Must pave the way, like battles, toward attaining laurels...!
Am I, in the process, keeping away from kith and kin?
Does my passion for lonely liberty lead me to sin?
Do my conflicting thoughts and deeds bring me contradictions?
Does my anxious unconsciousness gift me many frictions?
If self-separation replaces cognitive action,
Compartmentalization is simply a distraction;
As bouquets of various flowers are placed in vases,
Prudent compartmentalization can bring in graces...!!!
I cannot stop grieving this loss
A line of healing, I must cross
Nature has highlighted my life
Wildlife has fled and caused such strife
I never knew what it was like
Empty skies without birds, now strike
Squirrel are not around at all here
Walnuts untouched, I shed a tear
Silence, no songs, an empty yard
My friends are gone and I feel scarred
I can’t find the words to explain it
I’ve never seen such a thing hit
A toxic catastrophe now
Will be seen by all at some point
When repercussions are conjoint
Pardon me for having to write
To maintain courage in my plight
Everything goes way beyond me
I pray for all in tragedy
Grounding safety, peace to be found
On this earth let healing abound
Heidi Sands
2/23/23
Theme: Grief
8 Syllables
Placed 2nd in the Writing challenge – G Words Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Constance La France
Taking into account; the Poeter's quip
Shant it be unfurled to reveal thine
Penned and newly coined path of authorship
Paying out the Poeter’s plumb line
Veering from the course
Plotting new wave points
Carting the next rhyme before the horse
Beginning each line with the next conjoint
Taking time to proceed; and dote
Forsaking time tested ways
Remaking each verse concave and connote
Breaking the norm; within this phrase
Plucking the strings of a mental violin
That one trains to adroit and therein
Making each intellectual a rational linchpin.
Behind old church
Just couple of minutes of march
Beyond the back stairs that lead to the church
Sometimes looking up at the rainbow of time forming an arch
Between where the church and the castle stands on a hill
There is a place where time stands still
Place where call of your heart you can hear
Place where motion of your soul you can feel
The great rose grows in ground that is fertile
Inside the rose instead of nectar there is sun dial
Light animates from the dial
And towards the sky expands light from this marvel
Whoever touches the dial will be able to learn without need for reference point
But if mathematical expanse is learning with reference point
Imagine what someone who to learn needs no reference point
Is capable of if with very idea of learning not continuity but abyss this lack of need is conjoint
With last catalyst it is conjoint
And with time itself needs no reference point
With this kind of power soul the dial can anoint
And that is what this wretched world owes me and that is my point
Mathematical nirvana is the key
To every abyss in all its majesty
The logic in its synchronic beauty
It is the key to doors of destiny
The ultimate consciousness has only one reference point
With minimum of being conscious and ultimate it is conjoint
Because base opens doors to abyss it needs no other reference point
And this ability the very soul can anoint
Abyss breaks the bounds of continuity
Yet it itself is form of continuity
In that lies its majesty
Its spellbinding beauty
That is why ultimate consciousness baffles very imagination
Even if it is a form of realization
But what is beyond realization
For sublime and limitless echo of time is foundation
Days were I have chains on my ankles,
I moan and groan because I don't have a key.
Today I embraced the work Jesus did on the cross,
and now it makes sense that you can be free.
I remember I used to be like Adam, sitting through services without comprehending a word.
Feeling like the world will never unlock these damn chains,
wishing I could Carpe Diem,
and feel like I'm somewhat sane.
But at night I call out to my savior,
I beg for his friendship, I beg for his love,
I beg for these addictions to become bearable.
Then suddenly I feel affection from above.
This affection was celestial,
so I knew it was from my savior.
I felt like I won a prize,
and today I realize..
That we are his portion,
He is our prize.
If you ask, he can operate in your life,
Because his spirit is surely alive.
He can break chains,
but it's YOUR choice to surrender,
and to conjoint faith&reality,
and to feel the love from the sender.
I know I'm not a preacher,
or anything close to one,
But if I send you an invitation to believe,
I wish you could feel like his daughter or son.
Magnificent Alexandra bird wing butterfly spirit can console
He himself is like a painting of a soul
But this is not just a butterfly its beauty to extol
With its colors representing spirits full rigmarole
The mathematical nirvana is the fuel for the trip
To the neural flame’s vision of space ship
But from there spirits’ beauty gets deep
It gets to abstract desire of greatness not just specific airship
The butterfly is painting of neural mind
Without it we fly blind
With it we live mundane behind
And great adventure we can find
The greatness to its definition has its only reference point
And from most concrete to most abstract its essence is conjoint
The soul dashes forward from that point
Until it reaches divine point
The space ship is full of electric veins that feel
Spellbindingly beautiful and surreal
Yet the journey is absolutely real
And in that lies butterfly’s of dream’s appeal
One of the beautiful things about Siberia it is a sea of grass
Like purple color of the soul Roth grass
And flowers like Siberian corydalis hides in the grass
The surreal beauty of flowers sends its divine fragrance through the ocean of grass
The grass covers the endless expanse
This is what inspires poetic romance
The sea of grass in which wind whispers soul will in trance
Among the grass the bears and tigers hunt and antelope will dance
The smell of freedom is mesmerizing
As the father time and mother Earth give birth to daughter spring
Of destiny connected to very abyss the nightingale will sing
The echoes of his voice lift the soul to place fit for a king
The grass is not it but it reflects the visage of genetic zero point
And if one looks for nirvana the fields of Siberia will not disappoint
As with sublime universal energy the spring is conjoint
And can completely lift one to divine viewpoint
Soft hills roll endlessly through the expanse
To the north lights of aurora borealis will dance
The castles on the hills the view will enhance
Sun’s orange glow seems to dry the tears of the sky as west it will advance
The sunset turns from orange hue
To blend of gold and linen blue
The waters of the lake make the reflection of the sunset true
With the grain nearby being golden too
In the rushes one can hear frogs and snakes
Poppies grow red and fire crackling sound makes
The rivers flow to the lakes
From high mountain peaks eagle to the sky takes
With the western horizon sun seems conjoint
But it is the invisible hand behind the sun that is important from divine standpoint
It is the unknown the content of that word is more important and to its form has no reference point
Those words generated by the base but their true meaning is from absolute unconnected view point
The Great Eye behind the sun looks down at marsh marigold
The end of the day is about to unfold
The bifurcate willow and tall birch tell stories of old
The gentle summer breeze moves the clouds that in the sunset appear gold
The endless horizon above the law less world
Swoops down like through the air cuts a sword
By no resistance of any kind it is impearled
It is free and line between possible and impossible is blurred
The abyss to anything earthly has no reference point
Yet at the base with the soul it is conjoint
First spirit the second will anoint
Transforming it to beyond divine from any standpoint
The spider webs sprang on the summer’s day
Tell the story that will enchant but can also dismay
Any that of it blossoming would stand in the way
Blossoming of supernatural otherworldly ballet
His skill
Is far beyond surreal
His face is covered by mask of steel
He is an angel of horizon will
But even if horizon is his reflection to it he has no reference point
By the greatest power he is anoint
He is definition of sublime from every view point
With him the soul of divine from end of abyss is conjoint
He is a divine elemental dream
That from reference point only to itself he would stream
He is above kraken or other biological extreme
He is the visage of the supreme
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