Trapped
in the machinery
enmeshing his pain
Orphaned on
the loading dock
of yesterday’s fame
Laden
with the icons
of perfidy’s haze
Wandering through
the desert
— of destiny’s maze
(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)
An unseen lamp hidden in the realm of the mind
someone kindles to light up the dark gaps of thought.
Unperceived, it creates the beams of contemplation,
illumines the concealed pathway of the destined journey.
The paused thoughts create an intricate mental fresco,
the time transcendence makes it ostensibly self-radiant,
enmeshing the soul within the maze of the craving ego
that designs the forlorn corridor for the lonely journey.
As the lamp gets extinguished by the self-created gale,
awareness is lost in the abysmal depth of darkness.
The willful psyche clings to the sense of entrapped self,
getting confined within the bubble of illusion.
The obsessive free-will seemingly dormant,
enwraps the misty mind with an unreal veil,
for the free-rule tenets morph the ego into a trap
in the sphere of the fantasized self-deception.
In the ensnaring realm of fabricated passion
the cage of self-image captures the deceptive being.
As life swings on the cradle of the lingering time,
reflective pause causes the polarity interchange of acuity.
wandering in wasteland
of denuded life
desolate
sinuous track
takes me
to the terrain
of nowhere
nebulous
I’m entangled
in enmeshing web
of
enigmatic conundrum
shall I escape
from decay delirium
or not
I can’t decide
ingrained imprint
indelible
of
wheel of time
turning
in destiny domain
twisted out
of tormenting tangle
of tortuous trail
of passive past
steers
with promise
of pride
my fraught mind
out of maze
shows me
the pledged pathway
to fervent fountain
of misty meadow
protected
I break open
there
invisible barrier
you’ve built
of seclusion
around your garden
secret
blooming
furtive flowers
hidden
from me
but
I’ll saunter
there
suffused with
seraphic shine
sanguine
of sunburst dawn
new
I wish
before I walk
the last mile
our paths
will cross
entranced
coalesce
into oneness
someday
When the music of life gets silenced
in the broken violin of the extant in an instant,
submerged in the regression of solitude,
morphed soul hears the murmur of the ancient stream.
Released there from the clasp of karmic destiny,
I transcend the limits of time and space,
where the pristine petals of awareness unfurl,
bloom the divine flower of the cosmic essence.
In the devout sanctum of heavenly freedom
the soul attains the timeless form of euphoria.
The beauty of ultimate oneness it beholds,
merging shapeless with the absolute supreme.
Detached from the transient life’s enmeshing web,
I lose mind-body identity in the sanctum of divinity,
where time is lost in the eternal deep silence,
the soul is configured into His omnipresent image.
For the maneuvered inducement of the being,
the transmuting tenet of the unique identity
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
paints the shape shifting façade of the celestial entity.
The assigned unseen lamp hidden somewhere,
someone kindles for you when you’re made to arrive.
Unperceived, it creates reflective beam of contemplation,
illumines the pathway of your destined journey.
The free will you make as the mental mural of pride,
the lamp makes it ostensibly self-radiant,
enmeshing your soul within the maze of formidable ego,
that designs the deviant road you travel undisciplined.
On the way you pick up some flowers of wilderness,
someone graciously blossoms only for you,
but you think these are epitome of your self-made image,
worthy of affirmative celebration of self-seeking euphoria.
On the way you tread on the trail of anguish thorns,
you think you would pave a new amiable track soon,
and won’t suffer on the stinging journey for long,
but the perpetual torment lingers on.
The disowned lamp then gets extinguished by itself,
in depth of darkness you lose awareness unrestrained.
The willful psyche clings to the sense of disarrayed self,
and gets confined within the bubble of delusion.
the human experience
defined by three states
waking, dreaming, deep sleep
compels us to navigate
nuances of each realm
hemmed in my our mind
enslaved by senses five
pristine soul yearns for freedom
but captive to hypnosis
demonised by darkness
ego entity here manifest
is merely a thought form
yet has hijacked soul’s attention
enmeshing us in illusions
of dark fears and desires
the fluid matrix taunts us
a Frankenstein we birthed
yet in vibrant silence we are free
sans thought we’re awake
in all three states of being
awareness dehypnotised
wherein we are unfettered
innate aliveness termed as Turiya
recognised by full freedom
is the light of our true Self
Are anchors fetters or do they stabilise,
acting as moorings, holding us steady,
that we may stay grounded in our comfort zone,
whilst battling fierce winds of duality?
We walk alone yet seek safety in numbers,
opting to adopt culture based on birth,
deludedly following narrow beliefs,
although in our heart, gong of truth rings not.
We feel within our bones that we are a soul,
so why then do we cling to illusion,
more so recognising that it is transient,
enmeshing mind in a gossamer web?
Employing specious logic, we justify
fear of freedom, inventing a new script,
languishing thus in darkness and rewriting
beliefs in secret code we can’t decrypt.
17-March-2023
New Moorings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
An unseen lamp hidden somewhere
Someone kindles for you when you arrive
Unperceived it creates beam of contemplation
Illumines the pathway of your destined journey.
The free thoughts you create as mental fresco
The lamp makes it ostensibly self-radiant
Enmeshing your soul within the maze of ego
That designs the road you choose to travel alone.
On the way you pick up some flowers
Someone gracious blossoms for you
But you think these are epitome of self-image
Worthy of innate celebration in euphoria.
On the way you tread on the trail of thorns
You think you would pave a new track soon
And won’t suffer on the journey for long
But the perpetual torment lingers on.
The disowned lamp then gets extinguished
In depth of darkness you lose your awareness
The willful psyche clings to the sense of self
Getting confined within the bubble of illusion.
____________________
May 13, 2022
Contest : Bubble Of Illusion
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
Descent and ascent
Through vibration spectrum
May fan fires of feral sentiment
Enmeshing our soul in ego residuum
To feel fully by touch we enter trance
Leading to dreamy state of stupor
Indulgence in earthy dalliance
Makes endless our caper
Upon reaching exhaustion
We exit the thought form stream
The void of silence, desire cessation
Offers a chance to wake up from the dream
The underlying truth is right before our eyes
Space between us and myriad objects
If restless heart ceases it’s sighs
We see dream life’s defects
Unfocused gaze held thus
In boundless space all around
Resting desires that tend to nonplus
In but not of the world, we’re no longer bound
Mind-body and ego identity then an apparatus
We employ it as of need to navigate life
Playfully going where God takes us
Awake, aware and with joy rife
14-March-2022
“if attention not always free flowing
persona thus but a dead man walking”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Look at waves of emotions arising
within limited mind body combine!
We delight in impulses surprising,
for their origin, we cannot assign
to any source, other than the divine.
Look deeper within, oh hermit, to see
that causation be not ego entrée,
enmeshing us in a narrow domain.
Love, on other hand, to the contrary,
enables us with bliss, pure and unstained.
07-December-2020
On the wheels of time I’ve travelled for long
on the crafted pathway of synthetic stage,
revolving my split mind, entrapped in polarity,
under the spotlight of the contrived moments,
enmeshing the confused me with paradoxes.
In the enactment of the drama of multifaceted life,
I see some bare faces displayed on plain mirror,
really reflecting the radiance of convivial heart.
I don’t perform with them by the prompt,
but I present me truly, for I adore their purity.
I face some veiled faces posing on warped mirror,
disguising the contorted lines of rancid rancor,
I dislike their fake facade, but I play a sagacious role,
my transformed face of spite, the actor in me,
conceals behind the deceptive mask.
July 24, 2020
Contest : 10-20 Lines On Mask
Sponsor : Mohan Chutani
Let us find time and space, my love, where you and I
Fly high, try never again to cry
No matter what flak circumstances try
To lumber on us
When feelings blow hot on the bus
Where for your sake and mine we vow never again to fuss
Over trifles
Emanating from tongue-waggers’ rifles
Caught up in needless scuffles
Which needn’t you and I worry
Harass, embarrass or harry
Regardless of whether the sorrow celery
Lost on unknown streets
Where spooks to discourage you and I send meaningless tweets
Sugar-coated with savoury sweets
Your mouth and mine consider in bad taste
Whether in slow motion or in a haste
Determining to beat down our chest
As we determine to make a sudden leap
Forward to awaken from the sleep
Where from world troubles away we keep
Enmeshing our loving hands
As we surge forth to promised lands
Where our love summersaults on bliss sands.
dripping
tap, tap, tapping
onto the floor of my cavern
creating the supernova
blasting expression and light
silent but omniscient
reaching its fingers to
fill in all the cracks
gasping
we all come in to this world
feeling the pulsing energy of the ethereal
birthed through that holy volva
I learned that lesson from the Aging Tree
roots wrapped around my skull
enmeshing me
to the ever present ebb and flow
working its way to my finger tips
where they dance across tarnished steel strings of my traveling guitar
to create...
stalactites of consciousness
tap, tap, tapping
onto the floor of your cavern
creating the supernova
essence pure of all you are
luminous as angel stars
clearly tracked your soul flight
vast pensive universe delights
soul fragrance unlocked, opened
this heart fast closed, broken
breathing you in draughts refreshing
love's rich, soft web enmeshing
two into one; sweet perfume
satiates sense in your soul room
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, October 11, 2014
As the desire of flight hardens my veins,
Your eyes, cool as the earth, shot with filtered
sun, stay my limbs.
It’s difficult to believe in longing or sorrow
Beneath the eves of yew and hemlock.
Though stepping towards tarmac
Shatters my thin illusions.
You, my doe, exploding through underbrush,
Trump my desire for flight,
Even in the black recesses of wasted alleys
Reeking of piss and moral ineptitude.
Lover bring me solace.
With our souls bound
The minds intricate neurons
Enmeshing our whole.
Lover bring me peace.
When behind closed eyes
I travel wearing down reckless abandon
At least for an hour of fitful sleep.
You the well of my energy
Upon my thoughts, forever
A smile softly on grim lips.
You the response to my question.
You, my summer rose, glowing
in the morning of our lives.
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