Duality Poems

Fate Tends Hang On a Knife-Edge

All because of that single decision 
To grasp that grate and breathe in the ethereal skies above 
Rather than 
To let go of that grate and suffocate in the foul sewage below 

Because of what he chose 
This is what he is 


Independent 
Not 
Incarcerated 

Whole 
Not 
Wounded 

Confident 
Not 
Confused 


Slipping off of the

THE LAST IN LINE

THE LAST IN LINE*
~~~~~~~~~~~
This poem was inspired by my favorite Ronnie James Dio song/lyrics, “The Last in Line.”

In the fading light of day,
will I find the shadows of my soul
dancing in the twilight,
or will the light reveal my truths,
as I sift through the ashes of my choices?

I pause, pondering 
‘am I the architect of my

Duality

Our words have power
We don’t seem to understand
They are double-edged

Down to Zero

(“The Particle In The Wave”, 2018, original encaustic)

Down to Zero

In the great equation of Life
Everything eventually cancels out
As it naturally balances
And leaves us down to zero.

From the perspective of static
The dynamic is the illusion
From the perspective of dynamic
The static is the illusion.

Buddhism with its notion of a final Nirvana
Takes the former 
Taoism with its effortlessly

Beautiful doesn't mean Safe

The Sun is pretty–Yes ,we know,
It makes the sky and flowers glow.
But look too long, and you will find,
It's beauty scars. It's strikes you blind. 

We're taught to chase what shines the most,
To the love ones who shine like ghosts.
But not all gold is made to keep ,
some glitters loud and cuts too deep. 

Not

Cage of duality

Destiny any, there’s a common thread
in the unique journey of every soul,
going through life, playing their ordained role,
attachments gripping fickle heart in dread.
False is the narrative which we’ve been fed,
ego the villain, who inner light stole,
veiling soul’s sheen with thoughts as black as coal,
negating heart’s love by living in head.

Melding head with heart, we exit

Philosophical Rhythmic Duality

Philosophical Rhymthmic Duality

Imminent calamity collides with structured debate 
Virulent profanity confides with punctured ingrates 
An insolent generation of insanity resides with a debunked hate 
The innocent audacity presides over the opinions that rank and rate

Alchimedes problem solving in the middle of the night 
Socrates deliberating over what is wrong and what is right 
Sophocles writing

From duality to singularity

caged in form, memory erased
constrained by a fragmented mind
sensory inputs leave us dazed
to light of Self within heart blind

scriptures cajole us to explore
truth of being and so awake
by being still, making heart pure
lust and fear choosing to forsake

with head and heart poised in balance
viewing life like a lucid dream
mood and mode vibrant nonchalance 
we sing

comprehending non-duality

intermediate truths will do for now
involving dissolution of ego
staid stillness reveals what mind cannot know
by direct touch, God wisdom does endow
kundalini rises if we allow
whence sailing in the boat which God does row
spirit repays debts of love which we owe 
clear sight’s bestowed when to His will we bow

ego vaporises yet we remain
we as living

The Duality of Fatherhood

a secret    d   r   e   a   m    of peace
youth making dreamers of all – 
amidst enemy   F. I.R.E
p a s s I o n s   rode   H  I  G  H – 
he

the Colourful picture

shadows draw across the canvas
with light oily strokes and dry wet soul 
the white pythons and black mambas
conspire as their tongues slither and roll 

down the canvas. 
like honey, it marinates the mellow white 
bruising it with time… yet as the honey lathers
and the white bathes, the paint stops with all its might

leaving behind the

Duality of Motherhood

Shifting crown of thorns and a crown with the finest gold,
for the most challenging but most rewarding title  
set on woman’s head: All Humans’ Most Honorable Role.

With grandiose bouquet of roses so fresh
yet, frequently withers;
But once her tears flow down her eyes,
her molding hands firmly flail
and her dreams flow lovingly 
at fertile lands for

Paradigm Of Duality

from the  edge of the creative cosmos 
her star lands on her lap with billion candles  
their tantalizing twinkle ripple  
in the rhythmic rapture of the dance of angels 
in sync with the symphony of her heart 
she protects from the worldly winds

the shining stellar sequins  
elegantly embellishing the ethereal robe

What She Gave and Took

She taught me to pray
with hands that bruised the bread
and sometimes, me.

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon,
but the corners were quiet with grief.
I was loved--loudly, then not at all.

Her laugh could warm
a whole December,
but silence followed when I needed June.

She carried me like gospel,
until I questioned her scripture.
Then, I became her quiet sin.

Still--
I make her biscuits

Three Generations Of Motherhood

three generations of mothers created a fourth-
    mine, my children's, my grandchildren's
         between the late fifties and April this year
    I have welcomed thirteen births- my three
five grandchildren, five great-grandchildren 

generations unfold in ways of the times
    as

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