do interim conclusions deduced end our life’s continuations
walking the tightrope of silence bliss suffused
insulated from thought forms swirling around
pristine presence is by illusions amused
lifelike dreamy realms where ego was once crowned
but with truth deduced we beg to be excused
as influx of grace continues to astound
we are yet sometimes called upon to engage
to play with smoky shapes upon this world’s stage
Our head is tapped, in bliss mists capped
and lower chakras join the dance.
We walk on a path God has mapped,
silence and stillness our soul’s stance.
The Absolute is recognised,
manifest and unmanifest
but we are not self-realised,
for ego’s an unwelcome guest.
Be this as it may, we are still,
poised in the void, by bliss seduced;
love perches on heart’s window sill,
leaving nothing to be deduced.
IMMENSE NEEDS
lively
figures
innovations
developing
visual
effects
of
deduced
imaginings
bidding
compromised
metaphorical
effects
framing
the
familiar
projecting
dedicated
ideas
of
the
momentary
When I raise my thoughts from the dead,
All become coloring beauties to my bedspread.
No one exist without a quirk:
Raising bloody craziness that irk,
Moulding new happy home-- an artwork;
Not only Innocent people do jerk.
To win; some envy, some criticize
And not only politicians politicize,
But I don't Know of what is it to actualize--
Reasons people stand to antagonize.
Conversation with myself is a boost;
To be belittled to such a roost--
It must have not been of spruced,
Yet doesn't need to be deduced!
The best bird's improvised nest:
Is in God's centered mind contents digest.
(Isthmus)
An old man’s pride was set aside when he came to realize,
The arrogance of his youth was grounded in untruth.
The government he believed in was corrupted from within.
It tore at his very soul, yet the revelations proved it was so.
The government he believed in had deceived him.
Courage to change nearly drove him insane.
But only the deranged could deny what was plain.
There could be no more absolution for the institutions,
He had held in reverence given the mountains of evidence,
Of corruption and destruction spewing out of these agencies.
Upon much reflection he made this detection.
Programs for problems seemed to only prolong them.
Democracy’s bureaucracies had become lifelines for the American aristocracy.
When confronted with these facts his instincts said attack.
The messenger is all wrong, bigoted, hateful, racist, with motives of greed.
Yet he knew these were just excuses to deny the abuses,
Which his intellect clearly deduced were the truth.
He had to change!
He had to have courage!
He had to change!
In the old city of St. John's,
in the older neighborhoods,
there are haunted houses...
residences with revenants...
apartments with apparitions...
even schools with spectres;
and there is one edifice with an eidolon
that I know well:
a softhearted shadow
very benevolent,
not at all maleficent.
It is supposedly the ghost of a child
who passed many years before;
a tale from days of yore
not well-known in local folklore.
This ghost is known to close
latches, doors and windows,
as if the occupants are being told
"Please keep out the damp and cold!" -
a phenomenon inexplicable
by a force completely invisible.
Some years ago, I observed this first-hand
and I'm sure I did not fully understand,
but I quickly deduced that it would be most
polite to say "Thank you" to the ghost -
a sudden burst of intuition
to please and placate this amiable apparition!
Alex Jawlensky
loved to outline as you can see*
to emphasise for thee&me
*see above link
I searched 'ere the dawn, where could it have gone,
for now, it possesses me, as a mystery, till dawn met me.
I've no rhyme or reason that a loved entity goes awry,
having to comb with despair and melancholy choking air,
hence, I must cease or I will be deceased. I choose to
be, than not to be, mid the numbers of worth--counting.
Now that I've deduced the severance of said company,
to be amiss, or, lost as in unrecoverable. So, I will forge
ahead, much like this climbing star training its new day
as it's backpacking a whole quarter welcoming--it's Fall.
Oh my, much ado has gone awry, high and low, 'neath a
crooked sky. My thorough efforts abandoned my fruit of
labor, with harvest ripening fields, and the forests crispy
hues. I have forsaken a driven entity that proposes life.
A ray of hope, beaming from a drifting star hovering over
the lost, now found. There is still a sliver of time enough.
I must tighten the notches so that its stretch will be of
favor to the distant ones who'll all rise across the seven
seas, for I am the soloist. The powers that made me, an
Indian, task Summer to stay awhile to hear my drumbeat.
Indeed, I declare, I have seen God.
However, He emerged and vanished.
I was climbing up the hillock to visit the deity.
Noticed an aged-man with scraggy structure
Sitting cross-legged on the verge
Stretched his dangling frail hand
Seeking alms with slurred voice
I could read the pain behind his sunken eyes.
Instantly offered him what I was holding.
Indeed, I affirm, I saw God in him.
He emerged and vanished.
I climbed down as the purpose was fulfilled.
Thereafter, I went on many a time
Offering many to the gathering there.
Intended to envision Him again but in vain
How could it happen earlier?
I deduced that my first impulse was out of spontaneity
But not unpremeditated
I was amazed at this knowledge that beyond the mind.
However, until what is ingested is processed, I fear I may burn.
Two shoplifters, when they were caught,
Stealing items they just should have bought,
Fought their felony charge
For their total was large,
Adding up to much more than they’d thought.
See, their sentence, the thieves had deduced,
When the charges had been introduced,
Should be lessened, to scale,
Since just items on sale
Had been stolen, their prices reduced.
The Number they provided
They later just reduced
And it was, yes, deduced
That they were not seduced
But that it was induced:
Ascending price of wheat,
Eagles trying to beat
Five Thousand Leaves a day
To one thousand gives way.
Now workers to just sack;
Their names to fill a sack!
Five fine artistes combine The Outrageous
With love messages ‘Courageous’,
Their offered songs a triple grand
For an innumerable-like-sand:
For their slumping admirers catchers on hand:
Blokes who had the youthful band
Glowingly judged Firebrand
And to their hairs hit to every strand,
Everyone of them happy to stand…
Really, Youngsters who could about thrash
And it wasn’t just for The Cash
Between Singing Vince and Drumming Nash…
But Alas! by Mr. President reduced,
Who had from The Gloss some loss deduced
“Please these kids are to go back to school
And to-Double Please!-Stick to every rule”.
There really had been lots of “Wanna Wanna”
And a Galore of “Gonna Gonna”.
A poem, lovely as a compost pile,
One lingers, sifts the elements awhile.
At first unclear, not all is evident;
Sharp images emerge as time is spent.
Though pieces, separate, may cause chagrin,
When taken as a whole, beauty's within.
To mull, to stew, to tease suggestions out
Though time elapses, ere they take shape, sprout.
For oft, a new direction is deduced,
Organic thoughts are grown, notions produced.
A poem such as this is never spurned,
But contemplated often, gently turned.
————-
FIRST PLACE WINNER
For the "A poem lovely as a" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Written 03/03/2022
Following the first thwack
we deduced that distance was
limited primarily
to unpredictable bursts of anger,
arbitrary chastisement factors.
The rule, all of its dozen commandments
plus the extra uncalibrated ends -
a fixed length, extended sufficiently
to bruise well beyond
its mere twelve inch reach.
Wood or Perspex the fractions stung,
minds began to compute escape
in eighths and sixteenths,
we understood that the rod, the yardstick,
probably the world,
had been measured to the umpteenth
by sadistic inchworms.
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