simple truths ~ let us list them out
if heart’s quiescent, mind is still
in staid silence, voids within fill
let not fears and dark desires grout
know this: we are not body-mind
leave imagined knowing behind
God dwells in our heart, have no doubt
He is felt as bliss magnetism
wisdom transcending every ism
to find Him, let seeds of love sprout
remaining at all times bliss rife
recognising transience of life
hold firm faith in monk-mode devout
breath by breath, let go of ego
at peace in the boat, God does row
simple truths ~ let us list them out
let not fears and dark desires grout
God dwells in our heart, have no doubt
to find Him, let seeds of love sprout
hold firm faith in monk-mode devout
seek a way out
yet self-doubt chokes
fears grout the soul
Let’s lay to rest all doubts that grout,
rooted in conditioned belief,
that thus giving our soul relief,
we’re at peace as we go about.
Transforming as vast space itself,
recognising we’re all of this,
all nodes within suffused with bliss,
no desires remain on our shelf.
As God’s grace pours in from above,
our feeble form is energised,
objects no longer weighed and sized
and all that then remains is love.
Judging neither fault nor merit,
all thought forms, we disinherit.
My days are void of color
It seems I cannot speak your name
My consciousness lives within my memories
Holding only myself to blame.
The bleakness of reality
My soul, it perseveres
It lives far outside these bricks
I'm left alone with just my fears:
I am one broken half
To a whole I long to be
I am the shards of shattered glass
Of the crystal rose you once made me.
I am sharp cruel edges
Broken thorns, scuffed out shine
I am every tear shed in secrecy
Every single dishonest "I'm fine."
I am drops of paint beneath tables
Hidden corners, lacking grout
I am every hope and wish and promise
That everyone forgot about.
concrete crib
gunfire lullabies
burnt lungs
grout eyes
weak pulse
slate tears
rubble nursery
lifeless stares
debris clouds
airstrikes rain
blood soaked vest
war crime stain
precious innocence
dusty grey
buried alive
unnamed grave
I watched the projects taking shape,
All varied in design –
A tree, a flower, a giraffe,
All different from mine.
One displayed a pot of blooms,
Another one huge eye,
Each finished effort proving
This was surely worth a try.
With some guidance from our teachers,
Grout was slathered ‘til it dried,
Then we gently wiped it off
And showed our artwork off with pride.
Trying something new’s a challenge
But the effort you expend
May, like making a mosaic,
Come together in the end.
I recall an earlier city than this,
that smaller metropolis had to be
plugged into black handsets for distant listening.
Often, I think that his city is a concrete megaphone,
one we have made from fabricated conversations.
Denizens daily must recycle themselves,
with ever louder words.
A few artisan poets,
with their mortar and spades,
grout the cracked and leaking windpipes,
hoping to calm the roar of a casual chitchat.
They labor on, to shore-up crumbling words,
before they all unplug themselves
from silence forever.
“Simply come undone ~
God and we are one”
~ quote by poet
The power of now
enlivens heart’s wow,
birthing a bliss beat,
which is no mean feat.
To know what is meant,
by being present,
needs thought cessation,
to feel elation.
Myriad fears grout,
filling us with doubt;
sans thought, do we die
or in bliss mists fly?
In the deep sleep state,
where our thoughts abate,
we awake restful,
joyous and zestful.
This validation
is soul’s citation,
overcoming death
by love’s healing meth.
We are the subject
and thought an object,
so let us let go,
in staid stillness slow.
In thought rested calm,
we feel bliss embalm
our decaying form,
by magnetism warm.
To know we must be,
so that we can see
and reclaim soul’s light,
dancing with delight.
When we choose to walk,
path of which monks talk,
pulse of love then leads,
as ego recedes.
By our simple shift,
we let God uplift
us right here and now,
whence we feel the wow!
What is that sticky substance
Right on my kitchen floor?
It's only in one spot,
I can't see any more.
Could it be a piece of gum?
I can't figure it out.
Maybe some milk gravy
Or a tiny splash of grout.
It's a bit embarrassing
And rarely is it seen.
Like the rest of my house,
I like to keep my kitchen clean.
I have to find the answer,
So on my hands and knees.
After a closer look,
I saw it was just some cheese.
a subtle, almost imperceptible vibrational distraction
became an irritant causing consciousness contraction
taking a step back, we allowed the flame to die out
contemplating on why we had so allowed it to grout
as such, the seeming nonevent, though a flicker in time
redoubled our resolve to entwine with the divine sublime
16-May-2023
Have we not as yet,
God face to face met,
fearful to dissolve,
that we may evolve?
Our tremulous heart,
feels not bliss beats start,
renewed with each breath,
as love’s healing meth.
As long as there’s doubt
and dark desires grout,
how may we be free,
tied to our mind tree?
A dead man walking,
with thought forms stalking,
we yet pause not to
God’s love and light woo.
The question is this:
how may we find bliss;
joy that never fades,
in heavenly glades?
By cleansing heart’s stain,
we can yet regain,
the flame of our soul,
that we may feel whole.
07-May-2023
___________
Writing Challenge - 'Y 'Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
FELONY
BANJI SEGUN (leaking_Penn)
It will pass, Yes, it will.
The Earth, the Heaven will pass
like shooting stars across the sky
what comes from the sky, scares not the Earth.
just little showers tingling her pores.
Truth shall live long, long after death
in a thousand years journey, only now matters.
Then will come, to the Now, for Later is yet to come
Three siblings of the mother Time
Emotions are felonies committed against one's world.
Ones repeatedly committed
despite jail time
An unrepentant sinner he is.
the feel of the thought about its feelings gave joy
Its void plundered wide, puncturing deeply
pain filled the "Left", till twas all, that was left
lingering on like burn scar.
clothing the wound, pampering the pain
conjuring the hollowed laughter
crime the grout for this laceration
a felon caught in the act.
It was time for a challenge
It was time to learn something new
All of her hobbies were boring
She was feeling listless and blue
Everything looked impossible
You had to be terribly clever
She felt decidedly average
So the process was taking forever
but wait…..what’s this? Ooooooooooo! Look!
She’d have to spend money, of course
(Far more than what she had spare)
But throwing caution into the wind
She fiscally plunged in without care
Her hobby consumed all her time
And it was all she could talk about
It was certainly an interesting choice -
Not everyone wants to clean grout
walls crawling
inside out
Escher etching
fingernail grout
staring at stares
plaid throughout
plied and played
guts splayed out
wailing away
in bars in stout
When options reduce and there’s no way out ~
Are we yet joyous or do dark fears grout
22-December-2022
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