instead of struggling we reflect
how we may maintain our trance state
but try as we might we cannot
since throb of bliss does not abate
so we remain poised in the void
tranquil stillness our ordained fate
whence with bilocation the norm
we’re both here and at heaven’s gate
My mistakes have taken a toll on me
In many aspects of my life
I no longer feel pretty without makeup on
Because i can see the secrets hidden under my skin
I no longer feel confident in revealing clothing
Because i know the insecurities lying underneath the remaining cloth
Mistakes are things you learn from
And I have learned plenty.
I have learned that i am not the person i think i am
Im a coward
I constantly hide my flaws while shaming other peoples
And i make myself into a different person so i can be liked,
Then make fun of those who are unique
Im a fool for ever thinking i was pretty
Because being pretty isn't just your face or your body
It's the thoughts and soul behind those things
The way you process a compliment, and how you respond
Or what you think when someone is different from you
These thoughts and actions show who you are, or who you are trying to be
And i have realized i have lost myself in this foreign body
This is not mine, I am a fake.
Better dead than living,
Better terminated than throbbing,
Better left than held,
Better abandoned than acquired.
Better understand than love,
Better pouncing than dancing,
Better challenged than agitated,
Better hungry than satiated.
Better feline than canine,
Better violence than romance,
Better cunning than running,
Better punched than bunched.
Better sorry than safe,
Better thrown than bowed,
Better disturbed than serene,
Better abused than adored.
Better soiled than vowed,
Better cuffed than chatted,
Better rough than soft,
Better fire than freeze.
Better statued than tattooed,
Better chaos than calm,
Better broken than forgotten,
Better strange than ordinary.
Better… always better.
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
How I Feel Categories
Definition | What is How I Feel in Poetry?
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