Our journey is long, so be strong,
our resolve firmed by the Om gong,
that thus thinning out the ego,
divine aligned we do no wrong.
Let love laced be the seeds we sow,
seeing God in our fiercest foe,
poised as awareness self-aware,
free from desires, our thought flow slow.
Once with the vibrant void we pair
and ego cravings we outstare,
starved of attention, it soon dies,
light of Self shines, naked and bare.
We see the truth with our own eyes,
reality mind cannot size,
completion beyond space and time,
transcendence beyond scripture’s lies.
One with oneness, we hear love’s chime,
heartbeat of God, a sublime rhyme,
a golden globe, in which we merge,
that higher peaks we may then climb.
Take a look
Read me like a book
Fill my brown pages
If you find them empty
Write in me feel at ease
Make me happy sad good bad
I’m a mirror of your imagination
Like an Etch a Sketch
I’m easily reset
I’m here for your emancipation
I am the art of your heart
Paint me if that is your spark
Speak me if you have winged words
Sing me if you prefer like black bird
Make me firmed of red clay if you can
Play me like music with your very own hand
Do with me your hearts desire
Only burning within your fire
I’m that idea you had last night
Waiting to be set free to ignite
A Brian Strand Premiere No 1224 Poetry Contest, Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Written: June 20, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Zealous
reflections
wrest my heart
humble
pitapatting
Honed
toward my ears
A thrum
glides
alone
Into a
scene
within
finger
tipped
firmed
curved
notes
Seeking each chord
of tempting harmony played
intimately in heartbeats among
the rivulets of a tempo step
Everything is felt in music
This happens as if holding
onto each note of my own life
Feeling harmonic vibrations
in deep resonating moods
of cool evenings on the patio
Crackling embers at a campfire
Voices recite songs held as would
become a tradition of simpler times of
childhood friendships grew together
Held as if we could hold onto moments
of hopes, of loves, of dreams. The stars
seemed to fall only as we looked away
Gained as one humble guitar absorbs
a night sky of improvised melodies
Each harmony found by instinct
by touch, by invisible sight
**********************
Once I remember, I was pupil a decade behind
Nada flowing in my gist,but parent rememberance
Who toured, Pearls me a day and infinity
To be onto twinkle today's milieu
Oh a nibble was a villager of its effects!
Abhorring schooling with silence reactions
While genders groaning for being with
And therefore,crowns shelves eyed at a stage
As the dreams of their series term
I became limbo for the school-edges, frozen claims as the student
Wandering my precious days on deplorable doors
That couldn't goddess my further steps
The crowns-burden retired, which led them down.
Still nothing to en masse , instead of calm
Edged,my sphere swirling darkness the serenity
Because of my battering crown's words
Blacken moonlight mournfully to drag me out of it's aura
Hopeless,the crowns bedded off from the globe.
Letting me rages between ridges
Further mirth,astrocious astray beside the scenic colours
Where the screams is?
"Nostalgic groans would never refill
The hungry staving thy intestine
Dance down and shelves:for rosy you ascertained paths"
Alas!firmed should be I and flicker on your stamped!
For the next of my ghost-days.
Players in the stadium
Patient as waiting soldiers
Seek stirring to signify
Attack artillery emboldened
Provisions are messages
Loaded with fresh opening
Responses rapidly fired
Lonely's ease encroaching
Place plus time is firmed
Balaclava covered burgler
Creeps comically around corners
Salivating, smiling, eager
Tally the touches, gripped tap
Slithered fingers, swimming fish
Sock threaded leeches reach thighs
Standard restraint abolished
Meddled with moods hang resplendent
Sexy ceremony elevates
Podium of passion captures
Camera's fleeting forever embrace
31st July
Third or First
Bronze Gold high
assiduous
spiritual voices
whisper veracious words:
faith tested
is faith strengthen…
firmed like tested muscles…
flexing mind
expands and joyful spirits
dance as mental quills
ink blood of truths…
hemorrhaging
melodic metered sounds
flowing freely from
the sable cerebral womb:
delivering new hope
sucking leaking nipples
of undying faith…
THEY LAUGHED, HOW HE WORKED HARD ALL NIGHT AND DAY,
THEY TEASED AND TAUNTED HIM ALL LONG, BUT HE COULDN'T SAY.
A PERSON WHO IS BOUND TO DO SOMETHING HAS 3 THINGS ON HIS LIPS,
SILENCE. SERIOUSNESS AND A SMILE, WHICH ACTUALLY MAKE MANY RIPS.
THIS SAVAGE ATTITUDE SAYS MORE THAN WORDS,
A PERSON WITH THIS PERSPECTIVE IS SURELY, FOLLOWING THE BIRDS.
TAKING FLY, NOT BOTHERING THE CIRCUMSTANCES,
AND MOVING AHEAD LIKE STANCES.
DEEP INSIDE, THE HARD WORKING PERSON KNEW, HIS WORDS WOULD NOT BUT HIS RESULTS WOULD SPEAK,
BEING FIRMED ON HIS WAY, HE DIDN'T WANT HIS IDEAS TO LEAK.
A DETERMINATION IS NEEDED,
IT COULD NEVER BE GRADUALLY SEEDED.
IT TAKES A WILL TO EMPOWER YOU,
IT'S NOT THAT EASY, LIKE TURNING A SCREW.
KEEP YOUR MIND NEAT AND FRESH,
MIND ME, AFTER BEING AT THIS POSITION, NO ONE THRESH.
- YASHASVI SHARMA
11TH AUGUST 2020
she wrote
that she
confirmed me
meaning her
flight
i knew
because
we con
firmed
each
other
it seems
dinosaur
ages ago
before
the supposed
comet hit
wiping out
exsistance
even while
they were
digesting
suggesting
suddenly so
violently i can't
even breath
while trying to
write this but
i'm a bit of
a survivalist
but my poetry
only exists
because
of her
and
so she
becomes
more then just
a lightning strike
but the rubbing of
wood
against
flesh get
ting a spark
to at least start
a flame
where as
she has not
but i have not
shaved pubicly
(spell check tried
to correct and
suggest that
perhaps i
meant
publicly)
but i'm not
into exposing
myself unless it
is with her poetry
There it stood
in its bright
off-white shape;
head held in perfection
by its firmed neck.
A proud mushroom,
signaling the transition
of summer into fall.
Beneath its shade,
little black ants
scurried to and fro.
On Day One God created the Heavens and the Earth
On Day Two He firmed up the sky
On Day Three to dry land He gave birth
On day Four He created the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars we navigate by
On Day Five He created all life in the water, all the fish in the sea
On Day Six He created life on land: birds, animals, humans -- Adam and Eve
What He created next was for all life on Earth, especially for you and me
A Day of Perfect Rest, the Crown Jewel of Creation, A Day for all Eternity
So, what did He do on that Holiest of Holies, the Sabbath Day?
Why, He rested from all of His creative labors, that's plain to see
Instructing humankind to do the same, to glorify and praise Him
To bring Heaven and Earth in sync for a day, in glorious harmony
Entry in "What Did God Do on the Seventh Day" contest
Sponsored by: Curtis Moorman
You see no scars and laceration
But it doesn't define that I'm not wounded
I smell and looked great to you
Hey! It just my make-up and perfume
But If you really want me
Caress me no matter what season
Stand firmed for your reason
Embraced me as I am
Love even my demons
2-2-2016
Mysterious_aries
True Love
True love is a vast ocean
Calms and churns with highs and lows
Shaped by ever-changing tides
Firmed by commitment.
January 13, 2016
Contest: Your Interpretation Of What Love Is
Sponsor: Bobby May
The sun hung low
over the valleys girth,
ready to enter
the bosom of the earth.
Dust rose up
into the blood red sky,
a line of horses
moved as if to fly.
At the end of the forest
they hastily turned,
towards the enemy
as they firmed.
Then at a gallop
they approached,
man and horse
lives to be poached.
Swords glinted as they
were sharply raised,
towards the enemy
they came unfazed.
With a sickening thud
they fell in the mud,
as they were mowed
and death was sowed.
Horses and me just
floundered about,
some did scream
and others did shout.
Crimson breath bubbled
as they lay huddled,
horsemen now rested
for they had been tested.
Medics attended
as others commended,
at a charge that was
supposedly splendid.
Horsemen stood before
their wounded steeds,
and put an end
to their heroic deeds.
Our only source of water,
the spring lay to the west,
downhill from the house.
Its flow gurgled up
to form a creek which snaked
through a field toward the barn.
Cold spring water firmed butter,
and chilled the milk,
kept dry in tin buckets,
dropped underwater daily.
Our old sow would root, nose
under the fence, and head
on a straight path to the spring.
Mother hated that sow.
It took hours for the milky,
muddy water to run clear.
No milk for supper.
We wished for the milk
to curdle in her stomach.
Once I finish oiling rusty joints and dusting these old bones,
it's time set off on down the trail.
Where I'll head I haven't a clue;
by heaven perhaps to find you.
No, not some yellow brick road,
a highway for the broken and in-firmed.
Cracked and crumbled; musty and stale,
pathway to lost dreams express rail.
Cacophony slideshow playing in my mind,
as I slide into my seat to speed along.
A thousand what-if's circle to choose;
though now no regrets and nothing left to lose.
Finally my stop time to depart,
the repository of a million unseen dreams.
Doors drag open creaking as they go
gazing upon shelves stacked packed high and low.
Some like boxes shiny sparkling new,
others hanging darkly; skeletons waiting to pounce.
So many choices of where to start,
eternity to shuffle through the trappings of my hidden heart.
All the forks along my road,
ready to explore a life's worth of could have been's!
Oh the glee, to see my dreams and greatest glory,
sifting through my un-lived repository!
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