Metal feet outrun
records of our fastest man
finish line flashes
but nobody taught tin legs
what a finish line can mean.
We build forward gears
but leave reverse on paper
no exit was planned
they say 'you can't stop progress'
'til the finish circles back.
Things can move quickly
once we teach the gears to run
wisdom trails behind
the clever machine stays dumb
doing whatever it can.
Add a thinking cloud
and the price climbs with each guess
false answers sound true
who keeps checking all the checks—
who detects the last error?
Apart from that mirrored
Closest what reflects
Our mystical source, in kindred
Spirits one detects.
moving in the void
peripheral vision detects
ripples of fear and dark desire
scarring the fabric of space
arising from attachment
to ephemeral illusions
hardly anyone asks
the existential question
of who in truth we really are
perhaps it is the fear of freedom
that causes us trauma bond
with demons we conjured
we cannot lift a chair
which we are sitting upon
strange then why we do not pause
movement of deluded thought
thereby unshacking soul
from fetters of ego
Written: May 05, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You crossed the gloss,
Under a star-spangled sky,
To greet me at dawn.
Foggy dreams awoke me,
my brain was amort,
I sense your whisper,
I immediately drew it.
While in the woods, birds sang,
leaving darkness behind,
the haze-modified hues,
would dance with the sun.
I'll acknowledge,
I am mesmerized by singing,
and my senses were enhanced.
Yet, in extending them,
I may endanger your soul,
I created a human ghost,
It is unknown what will occur.
Love beckons you,
Although it seems pointless,
I can't bear my dream,
While on the verge,
There is plenty to consider.
Often ambiguous,
Vague atmosphere,
It almost feels as "déjà vu".
Unreal is magnificent,
I can't break this magic spell,
It lurks near to life,
Some believe it is a vision,
Which detects every sign.
Realistic hyperbole,
for heartfelt times.
Notice how the birds sing long after we listen.
We oft’ are engulfed with our trampoline thoughts.
With gossiping beaks, they chirp and they flap.
We mimic their tweets, in our minds, as we beat
out the negativity of tenacious tumbleweed and burrs.
When wings catch the air - either we can’t breathe
or we catch commonsense & attempt a sound mind landing.
The canal, closest to the great outdoors, detects signals
of the sweetest sounds, beckoning the eavesdropper -
reminders of a mother’s cradle drop; will we fly?
Let go; indeed fly. Flap those wings. Give it a try, baby bird.
All ‘round, the spellbound flight of robins, bluejays, sparrows.
\|/
@@@
-U-
tears
silent
roll down
her face
flow
into
>--------=----------her mouth---------=---------+++ +++
There is a picture in my mind
Of grazing sheep on a remote hillside
The shepherd is mindful of his flock
Guarding each of them with pride
His watchful eye then detects
One little lamb, - that strays away
Unaware of intimate danger
The consequence of being astray
He ventures into the underbrush
With a keen eye, and familiar voice
Only when it's safely back in the fold
Can He be content, and rejoice
Our Heavenly Father, gave a parable
To signify His ultimate love
How much more He cares for you
Than a sparrow, lamb or dove
The lamb knows the shepherds voice
There is a bond between the two
No stranger does it recognize
The Master's voice, is always true
Along our journey, wolves may howl
And threaten us throughout the night
The Shepard has promised us security
We are never, beyond His sight
Colan L Hiatt = 05-17-18
© All Rights Reserved
Acceptant eye in the midst of chaos,
detects a trace of subtle aversion
borne in heart, uncomfortable with loss,
thus yearning for deeper bliss immersion.
Endless seeking to become what we are,
signals soul's blossoming is incomplete,
for in stillness too we struggle and spar
apprehensive when dilutes love's bliss beat.
Identification with body-mind,
in as desiring a preferred outcome,
is the cause that makes us to God's light blind,
stupor stifling our soul's innate bliss hum.
Unless soul's awareness be rippleless,
we will be compelled to make do with less.
11-November-2022
Fate, love, and coffee
turned into substitutable
with reminiscences,
Striving to be free from
cacophonous relics gifted
by your poisonous love
will my violaceous lyrics
mend my wounds, I urge you
a hundredfold of which you
allow no response,
I hold a bleeding soul, but you spurn
degrading you detects me though,
however, we can still endure any spell.
Her coffin slowly drops into the ground,
the little group of mourners huddles there,
all standing pokerfaced, without a sound,
the vicar speaks his lines without a care...
I watch and gulp the frosty morning air.
Although I hadn't been there when she died,
my heart is breaking, overflowing grief;
it's been so many years now since she'd lied -
and yes, although our love had been so brief,
our feelings never died (that's my belief).
And as the rest depart, I stand alone
to wonder if she somehow knows I'm here.
My ear detects a sudden muffled moan -
has she been buried still alive? I fear,
or is she telling me: 'I know you're near'?
written 22nd July for Constance's Q contest - Death
and when
bird, black skin
waves hi and grins
and then does it again?
penguin
----------
eye blinks
my instinct
detects distinct
baby sphincter high jinks
end stinks
----------
fruit tree
sin's entry
serpent sentry
promised wisdom plenty ~
empty
----------
sheepish
not finish
and diminish
wooly be bahd punished
by ewe?
When we encounter hieroglyphs in stone,
we don’t suggest erosion as the cause.
The information in our chromosomes
did not arise from randomness and flaws.
The character of outcomes left behind,
encoded messages, in form complex,
in strings of DNA point to a mind,
through inference, the rational detects.
The likelihood, from chaos, order reigned
indeed requires a flight to fancy grand,
an ordered row of ostriches arranged
with heads, some up, some buried in the sand.
The creature won’t abide Creator’s tunes,
Instead give flight to chance or else impugns.
——————
for the Flight Two Poetry Contest
sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
written on 06/19/2022
Although the moments gone by, we release,
memory sometimes stokes dying ember,
rekindling pain, granting them new life lease,
unless we shrug and slip into slumber.
The fault as always, is our delusion,
yet stagnating in earth bound attachment,
indulgence therein, cause of confusion,
plunging heart into deep discontentment.
Our mindful eye quickly detects the fault,
recognising life play as but a dream,
wherein soul’s immune from ego’s assault,
provided presence shines like a sunbeam.
Pendulum of time swings by night and day,
mattering not if love, be our mainstay.
15-April-2022
A desk
detects
a mind's
neglect
else
reflects
pure intellect
One is not two, as subject and object
The dreamer, thought form illusions projects
Spurred by hearts desire, does shadows pursue
Attention transfixed, in images thus spewed
How then may reflection, it’s stance correct
As actor and audience, who’d suspect
Mind games would spawn this dangerous defect
Of fact that all is one, remains no clue
One is not two
Discerning eye, flaw in the dream detects
That in void of silence, we stand erect
Cessation the key; truth known to but few
Stopping causation of thoughts that renew
In stillness we merge; from dreams thus eject
One is not two
07-May-2021
The audience falls silent poetry contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
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