silence
energised
by bliss beats
it is our being-ness
unadulterated and so pure
enlivening emptiness
wherein we rest
magnetised
peaceful
Home Sweet home was our most safe haven,
Only shelter when I was just a kid and minor.
Mom-Dad were there to bear each responsibility
Enjoyed with my siblings at every step of childhood.
Simple pleasures, simple disputes awoke in our home.
Wonderful sharing of sister of my heart to take care.
Excited days settled at night with worry-less sound sleep
Events occurred in sorrow or gay, but to assure,
Top secret of entire peace lay in our sweet home.
Home Sweet Home is now my holy sacred heaven.
On love and care I have erected my home as ideal one.
Mind gets real relief in each distress, dismay and agony
Enchanted days settle at night in perfect profound peace.
Om
Peace
I am as am
Luminous nothingness
Vibrant emptiness
Radiating bliss
Here now
DANCING BLIND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DANCE FLOOR
Bare footed on old linoleum floor
Tapestry music engage my ears (I hear the distance)
I see not but I’m placement mid-center
Of a space placed vivid vibrations flairs (I feel the emptiness)
I slowly spin around, I move to the music
Even in the darkness I’ve rhythm (I smell the panoramic)
My naked feet hear and feels the beat sweet
I can see n mine spirit I dance with the light
(I taste the air, I’ve inhaled, I sense the people stare) {I DANCE}
As my naked feet, legs, tortoise whole body sprite
moves as lighting-bugs in the night
Centered in movement dance steps bright
ViBrAtiOnS feels my steps are not sight
Dancing Without Sight
9/16/26
For Dancing Blind Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
2026©
There’s a kind of power in my failure.
Like a bell that always rings inside me.
Not too loud, but at the same time,
its echo feels like a song teaching me
that failure is but a phase.
It makes the world unpredictable.
It rings when I fall,
as if it's a sign I will rise.
It rings when I cry.
Yet when I hold a pen and paper
and write my pain out,
it barely makes a sound ,
like a bell too shy to ring.
So, I let it ring in its own time,
like it always gives me a chance to be me.
Yet on those days it rang,
it showed me that I was here,
and made me turn failure into a song,
a melody that lingers, uninvited yet welcomed.
eerie emptiness
we float away
our vision distant
longing extinguished
from the world detached
ties disconnected
yet peace suffused
in this void-centric view
cloaked in aloneness
strangely intimate
then we are reeled in
to bliss drenched form
vibrant and aglow
in the borrowed light
loaned by presence
as gift of grace
which we imbibe
to rekindle dying ember
that refractions of love
radiate across space
as a tribute
to our creator
without further inquiring
about God’s divine plan
since our identity
as something separate
from the all that is
has been erased
in place of which we are
fullness in emptiness
emulsified in this urn
wherefrom emanates
the elixir of bliss
commingled with light
banishing darkness
chakras hitherto ignored now pulsate
all polarised nodes wish to merge with source
manner of change varies as does blink rate
all accomplished without the use of force
kundalini being our sole resource
that as subject and object become one
all we are aware of is bliss beat’s hum
time stretched peace in a flat line awareness curve
ever present flowing orientation
positions us in state of bliss we deserve
transitioning to all-time meditation
that as we go about with gusto and verve
although we dwell in the void of cessation
tranquility is the fragrance of our soul
enlivened by bliss beats that make us feel whole
'Tis another sunrise, bright and yellow.
Yet the world that holds me feels so hollow.
My ev'ry breath is but an empty cask.
Yet ev'ry step I take bears a full flask.
Ev'ry thought that I hold makes the ground quake.
Ev'ry conviction makes the wide sky break.
The path I chose remained a cracked tankard.
Yet my journey is a brimming tankard.
All certainty dissolved, and naught remains.
Each thought gives birth to thought in endless chains.
My life is but a bottle with no hole.
I am the sot who wholly lacks control.
Who am I now to stay here, bound in doubt?
To drink, to think—and still to go without?
when the new normal is rapturous bliss
as that that does not come and go or fade
it makes the void a luminous abyss
an ethereal mist in which we wade
in the timeless now for us readymade
is-ness of being-ness has a new name
a tempest of delight we cannot tame
Do l belong anymore
On that l am just not sure
Once it felt like coming home
Now it feels empty and alone
Once l knew it was for me
I had found my place of acceptance and happy
Now uncertainty reigns
The unknown flows through my veins
Once l had definite clarity
Now l feel no solidarity
Once verses now ….at completely different ends
Time has changed what once felt like ….a dear old friend
the homeless man who is begging for money
most believe he must be a drug addict or convict
what if you lost your home, your job, your spouse and alone?
you could end up beside him, lost and hopeless
the cheaters, liars and dishonest people
most think they do not know or associate with them
as they sit in the church pews every Sunday
pretending to be honest, pure and holy
some are teachers, bankers, police officers
a facade to fool the best judges of character
Fiction evolves from reality.
Even Truth in stranger than Fiction
Again Fiction has the power
to initiate real stories.
Fiction is the reflection of Reality
and vice. Versa.
The measure of power of Fiction
depends to what intensity
it can influence readers.
The more the reader is engrossed
or impressed, more powerful is the Fiction.
Reality and Fiction apparently resemble
two poles of a magnet, attracting one another.
If Fiction be the shadow of Truth,
Truth is Shadowed by Fiction
Life is not a Continuous Function -
But contains chapters of discrete function
as several happenstances
producing Fiction of ruthless Truth
Om!
We acknowledge with gratitude
The beauteous pull of bliss magnetism
Transforming us as a pillar of light
Here now in mind-body prism
My heart has chosen you;
Pour love, into a hug, elected –
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