Upon the winds affirmation
The leaves high above the ground shook,
Content with overlooking a young man’s journey.
Through the woods he walked,
Directionless in meditation.
While he walked the woods opened to reveal his internal contemplation,
And he followed the path that beckoned his conscience.
Deep into the depths of the earth he explored,
Circle through circle,
He discovered the inescapable sin upon which his life sat.
Alas he ventured as far as he could,
And upon seeking escape the guard shielding his chains proclaimed:
“Your life is drawn to my dominion,
sin and virtue share a weight,
Your liberation is achieved through weightlessness,
Though, you are bound to the shortsightedness of desire.”
A, U, M as alphabets in mantra Om,
have been by the scriptures over analysed
but riding waves of thought we never reach home
for as long as life is weighed, measured and sized,
like a directionless soul, earth we will roam
and the truth of God will not be realised.
Let the gong of Om arise all by itself,
revealing to us in time, the light of Self.
Imagination is Divinity's show
we see what is in store and stock, old or new
challenging problems from various viewpoints
non-linear timeless, moves directionless
concretises void contents self perceives pure
evidence of things unseen in moving realms
fountain spring of all new wisdoms from unknown
dust it off, open it up, ageless it is
a no cost preview of coming attractions
on expansive landscapes we project wishes
monotony becomes lucid excitement
here we wipe slates clean of misery, boredom
conceive what will be perfected colourful
not knowledge, therefore has elemental wings
lubricates creative manifestation
impacts possibilities, gives rise to will
intent, configuration, action results
holding evidence of vibrational prisms
peace tool for misqualified energies lost
imagination infinite crucial cued
foundation tool for human creation
unequalled gift given to humanity.
PLACED 3RD: PREMIER CONTEST
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Track me for a wind, blind
But not reasonless.
Changeful, even directionless
Yet under heart's sway.
That is if, little human
With puppy in tow
Life's free step dare to follow.
Loving whom you may.
When the seed of fear is planted in minds,
It germinates in brains as a tormentor—
Sometimes sown by a whisper,
a shadow,
a lie repeated twice.
When illusion becomes reality,
And starts by making the heart
skip a beat,
then more of its beats,
then all of its beat.
It creates monsters in our eyes in the dark,
Born from our own imaginations.
And it can make them fly,
swirl,
drawl,
crawl,
and do anything—
Make our hairs stand on end,
Our feet walk on eggshells,
on a slippery slope.
It can crimp us into a shrimp.
When it creeps into our grip,
It brings a nice gift of heebie-jeebies—
That send us on a purposeless,
directionless meander,
Like a chicken with head just severed
and left unrestrained.
Fear teaches our hands to fight,
And reaches our legs to take flight,
But it’s never patient to judge us right,
Even when fear is out of sight.
When the seed of fear is well tendered,
Fear can even make us no longer
fear fear.
When its taproot has eaten deep
into the hypothalamus,
Then the mind is already gnawed by monsters
That, time and again, we created
out of nothing.
You can't hold it both ways, In meaning.' You
Are either direct.' Or directionless..And thus
In a mess.' No less-en-ing, yet less kenning will ensue.' Though
You deny..Its more obvious..Showing through'
True.' Reality denying.? I find it at best tedious'
Not to mention trying.! And now cov-idiocy is
Really dying.' Symtoms seen, idio-tantric bouts
And much de-crying..Tantrum-atic antic's its
Virtuless incandesacnt-cy liquid spleen venting, venting' yet never airing.' Instead there
Is resenting and vitriol..And severe dis-connect, much fruit less conversation, born.? that really
Cripples the formerly upright soul; struggle of noble
Nations...How do I quantify.? Highlight the prints of such scorn.!
Streets are filling with needles, disease, and narcissists.
The airways are rimmed with demands for respect.
If you don't agree 100 %, they'll wring your neck
People U-turn to the outhouse to retrieve souls.
Not realizing until it's too late.
That they've flushed it all down the toilet bowl...
Grasping blindly through turds of madness...
Directionless.
They turn from Love and God into the blowhole
of influencers, YouTubers and TikTokers.
Pods of dolphin people flipping for clicks...
Looking to make a name for themselves.
Not through talent, class and hard work.
but through shock and crassness.
They fancy to blame boomers for failures and madness.
I once had a teacher (frustrated by our terminal self-centeredness)
who once told a bunch of giggling know-it-all kids...
" One day the world is going to scare the living hell out of you".
How right you were, Mr. Adams.
How right you were.
Once upon a dreary time
A boy set out to note a rhyme
Pen in hand with paper lined
Prepared he was to share his mind
But thoughts lay barren and confined
Without sense, reason, or rhyme
Suffered he did this weary time
Both his soul and cheerless mind
His eyes grew dark, his face grew lined
And tho he sought to redesign
Something, anything it need not be fine
But the words would not align
And in his room he did confine
To seek and pray for some sweet sign
For the intercession of the divine
To show, to prove verse sublime
But chaos reigned and nothing aligned
And so he collapsed under weight of his crime
Chained by shackles of his own design
Weeping tears by misery primed
The poet thus became the sad mime.
Lose antennae? I’m a beetle!
Not one bug in Aleghenny
(at least, none you’ll ever meet’ll)
lose antennae.
Luck with chicks? I won’t have any!
Directionless, centripetal,
wireless wimps are ten a penny!
What now? Curl up? Adopt the foetal
position? Move to Kilkenny?
No proud pest in any street’ll
lose antennae.
A mountain tarn,
a deep-water eye,
high and blackly gleaming.
A scramble down slippery scree
to look within,
then a tingling apprehension
of being too close
to an unbalanced footing,
one that is a lip between
tilting ground
and an entrance to nowhere.
I can't say what I expect to see,
not the bottom of a mountain,
a dazzling sky-window,
or the depth of my soul perhaps.
What I see there,
quickly buries a teetering image
into a fear-fall.
Grains of time,
tumble rootless into my mind,
imbedding themselves
in each drop of sweat.
Dizzily I grapple back up,
the whiskers of my beard
stretching toward a pebble
that was not yet tumbling
into a directionless creation,
or a momentary extinction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note:
A 'Tarn' is a mere (lake), atop a high mountain. It seemingly has no inlet or outlet. "Sree' is an unstable shale that tends to slip under foot.
Fold and make origami
Pieces lost in the folds of time
Ripples in crystal waters of stillness
A riddle searching for responsiveness
Zipline through the playgrounds of my mind
Inverted skies stretch beyond grey
Clinging to air thick with silence
Shaped by a hope refusing to conform
Sleepily sauntering down an alley
Directionless shadows endless in their growth
Opaque walls murmuring their speechless weight
Flickering with thoughts not comprehended
Unraveling the knots of oblivion
Words hang precariously in suspense
A burst of color breaks through the frame
Slowly fading to the edge of a forgotten dream
I wish to inhabit a place where daisies flourish in golden fields, allowing me to create chains from my brown hair and roam freely amidst the delightful fragrance of summer days. I seek love from those whose support keeps me grounded, rather than experiencing the chill of isolation that weighs me down. I do not require a celestial home where the faces of departed loved ones linger. I simply desire the ability to experience genuine feelings on this Earth that are as tangible as the flowers nestled in my hair. If I am meant to run, then who is designated to pursue me? I would be at a loss to begin if I were to encounter a kindred spirit. I am in search of my rightful place. Even a dandelion can emerge through a crack to fulfill its purpose, demonstrating the beauty of a brave weed. Meanwhile, the girl with the daisy chains drifts along the breeze's path, directionless.
When we have all gone mad and lost our reason
And turned into dumb, blind, compliant sheep
And no-one’s left with sense to see the treason
That was wrought on us while we were fast asleep;
When history’s been lost and no-one knows
From whence we came, or even where we are,
And we are left, like winter’s battered rose
Directionless, beneath our wandering star;
Then it will be too late, too late to learn.
The textbooks will have gone, all been taken,
Thrown on the fires of darkness, all to burn:
The wisdom of millennia, all forsaken.
Then what the prophet said will come to pass:
We will have disappeared up our own ****.
In this vast void of existence, we stand,
Hearts bleeding out, met with the back of a hand.
Alone we stagger in life's endless night,
Chasing shadows, devoid of respite.
We drift, lifeless shells, in an aimless march,
Haunted by silence, under heaven's starched arch.
Bound by ancestral chains, heavy and severe,
I ache for release, for the end to draw near.
We're tethered to a world that cares not for our strain,
Our essence cast into the void, our struggles in vain.
Directionless, we flounder between high and nether,
In life's cruel jest, peace is a tethered feather.
His crown, a distant whisper of hope’s demise,
In its absence, our worth under leaden skies.
I'd embrace the void for a sliver of right,
Than bask in the hollow glow of the commonplace light.
For in the pursuit of that elusive spark,
I find solace in the embrace of the dark.
A sinner's waltz, a hollow, echoing song,
In the dance of despair, is where we belong.
(( Oort ))
cloud
embraces
***~~~~~~~~~a solar system~~~~~~~~~***
in abandoned space
within
3 spacious
light years
~~~~~*000*~~~~~
icy
planetesimals
float
beyond
the heliosphere
flaunting
frozen indifference
~~OooooooooooooooooO~~
they sing
they glide
like
silent
floating
islands
in an
indirectly
?????\\directionless//?????
((U*n*i*V*e*R*s*E))
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