UNSEEKING SEEKER CONTINUUM
The Seeker can never be
unseeking for what is
sought is forever seeking
stillpoint is continuum
neither end nor beginning
membrane is not
holding woven
for what weaves loosens
then leaves
space expands then binds
twenty four into forty eight
at the middle disentangles
unmusically gently
three from two is enough
for now
as six is a resting point
overlapping spirals
fountaining colourless
Categories:
disentangles, change, character, extended metaphor,
Form: Verse
Focus, the master key that unlocks
Stoutly locked doors to your future
Feeds on discipline that blocks
Distractions and fractious fractions in your culture.
Focus, the gismo that breaks
Deadlocks and tames dreadlocks
In your environment where reckless wrecks
Catalyse red herrings teeming with simplistic spokes.
Focus, the catalysis that fires up your determination
To soldier on in spite of red herrings
Threatening to derail your momentous mission
As your momentum disentangles itself from surrender strings.
Focus, the factory that fabricates strategies
Techniques and methods to realise your potential
As you embark full throttle on your mission despite elegies
Composed and crooned in celebrations detractors deem essential.
Categories:
disentangles, poems,
Form: Free verse
Naked Truth
N~ascent truth resides at the heart of wisdom thus
A~story conjects still naked waits for refutation
T~he emperor’s clothes devoid of the latest chique
I~ntimately risqué when average normality beckons
V~ie for veracity rescued from the scrap heaps of time
I~n candour modesty disentangles sexy sound bites
T~o be naked or not for whom where how and when
Y-aup those who lie in winning words instead of reason
11th November 2016
Written for contest ‘Naked’ judged 16th November
Still Naked
Naked with no laurels for my glory could I yawp in
Awe of other poets’ winning well versed script though
Kinder to myself and fellow soupers do I give merit
Eject my sulking disappointment from the scene and
Defuse what was as to denude again the naked truth
Expanded on 26th November 2016 for the contest
‘Take The Dagger From My Heart Please - 3
Categories:
disentangles, heartbroken,
Form: Acrostic
Naked Truth
N~ascent truth resides at the heart of wisdom thus
A~story conjects still naked waits for refutation
T~he emperor’s clothes devoid of the latest chique
I~ntimately risqué when average normality beckons
V~ie for veracity rescued from the scrap heaps of time
I~n candour modesty disentangles sexy sound bites
T~o be naked or not for whom where how and when
Y-aup those who lie in winning words instead of reason
11th November 2016
Categories:
disentangles, truth,
Form: Acrostic
In the mountains the wind disentangles,
the sun glows vagrant on lonely peakes,
dreams go chasing each other,
the rain falls in dancing figures,
A golden eagle slips down from the west,
high on the evening stars,
My heart sobs,you are so far away,
I want to kiss you but earth hide's you,
Sometimes my dreams float on clouds
that cross the sky towards you-
I see myself forgotten,like
the lost hearts of autumn-
Even the moon saddens when evening rests here,
My heart grows tired,lonely and forgotten,
You are so far away.California Blue
Categories:
disentangles, heartbreak,
Form: ABC
Here I love you, the seas so calm.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorus on the still waters.
Seasons, all of a different kind, go chasing each other.
The snow unfurls on the shores like dancing figures.
A silver gull soars down from the skies,
sometimes like a sail open and graceful…
Sailing high, high up to the skies.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone, sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the Sea sounds, and resounds.
In the far distance, a port off the still waters.
Here I love you, the horizon hides you in vain.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels,
they cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moores there.
My life grows tired, hungry with no purpose.
I love what I do not have.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights,
the night comes and the stars sing to me.
The moon turns it's clockwork dreams.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes,
as the pines in the wind want to sing your name,
with their leaves of wire.
Categories:
disentangles, lost love, mystery, sea,
Form: Free verse