Line of inquiry:
“joy, empathy, compassion
on an upward arc
an effervescence eternal
causes bliss ignition to start” - Unseeking Seeker
When sanctity of sane sense turns into anger inferno
with fury embers erupting from the violent volcano,
curling up feral with the spreading smoke of spite,
rationale rays remain concealed in sobriety spectrum.
We need not run away from the blaze to self-heal,
or seek shelter in the disdained den of disregard,
nor we should ignite another flame in enraged soul,
face malice intrepidly, and feel good in retaliation.
As a fire can’t ever extinguish or contain another fire,
for, it burns fast in the linked space of attachment,
we confront malevolence with calm confidence of poise,
don’t let the flame incinerate the serenity of our souls.
When flow of absolution springs with love from within
with embracing empathy of mounting divine fountain,
compassion douses spiteful fire with sympathy shower,
emanating with timeless joie de vivre of innate ecstasy.
Early morning and the gantry cranes
at Webb Dock look like long necked
dinosaurs lining up to drink from the river -
and the sky is aglow as it might have been
when tinged by the first hint of that asteroid
slamming into Yucatan on the other side
of the world 66 million years ago.
This is 2025 and no asteroid threatens
our fragile planet, yet more subtle
things do - things that reside in the dark
precincts of the human soul that pour
out pollution and in silos and undersea,
stoke embers that could at anytime
break free and incinerate us all.
Do we allow the compelling mind to control our unwilling steps?
Do they obey or deviate from the path smeared with insecurities?
Isn't it sad to seek unfairness instead of much desirable closeness?
Many have adopted this absurd concept that leads to nothingness!
Incredulity is the changeless anthem of the cynical and the stubborn,
within their unyielding spirit lies the ultimate reason of self-treason;
they won't settle for anything less than a bundle of useless allusions:
their trust spurs from doubt, their anger can incinerate aspirations!
" Quell clamorous voices, hush their madness before unrest rises! "
Is this suppression or plain ignorance to compare the final outcome?
The enraged Vaillant emerges from the cussing crowd and shouts,
" Isn't it sad to seek unfairness and desert others that show pride? "
" We'll be defeated and furthermore humiliated, whipped or stoned
in public squares and the mob, as always, is devoid of conscience. "
No interlude can spare lives, no pardon from popes in fancy robe;
no tears from sobbing mothers can halt the ax that drips blood! "
Insipid be the bounty, lain before the masses.
Languishing are those the ravenous harasses.
Mortals just morsels to a hunger never sated.
Fear laden blood keeps who feeds intoxicated.
The crazed stare unphased, their beckoning insidious.
They whom lay slayed, just meat for the carnivorous.
Of men or of babe be plated and devoured.
To this they're enslaved by ritual empowered.
Disposed as they go the corpses they eviscerate.
Now over, the glow danced by as they incinerate.
From The Coal Mine …
Liars …
early prophets
of impending doom
(The New Room: February, 2024)
The Moment Shared
We often forget
wrapped up
in our own drama
— that everyone feels the same
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Circle Game
The purpose of war
is peace
The guarantor of peace
— is war
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Crucibles
Moss
hides the message
Whose altar
ascends
In joy’s
adulation
The pilgrimage
— ends
(1st Book Of Prayers: February, 2024)
I Bequeath Thee …
Birthing a memory
o’er future and past
To carry my words
inside others to last
Birthing a memory
o’er time and space
To those still unborn
— my welcoming grace
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Four Steps
Incinerate
all kindling that burns
Articulate
the knowledge that yearns
Reciprocate
before it’s your turn
Elucidate
— each lesson hard earned
(The New Room: February, 2024)
True Fortune
Good health is loaned
— but never owned
(Deamsleep: February, 2024)
I have always been a fire starter
burning the unnecessary
to mingle with the ashes;
I do not stir the pot
just toss out excess;
Incinerate
all the fluff
in my
path. p
In your blazing blood-shot eyes I see
you seethe inside in the inferno of anger.
The twisted tongue throws out raging words,
charged with the toxin of your venomous mind.
The sanctity of sane sense turns into
fury embers erupting from violent volcano,
curl up feral with the spreading smoke of spite,
rays of rationale you don’t see in the sun of sobriety.
I don’t run away from you to self-heal,
or seek shelter in disdained den of disregard,
nor do I ignite another flame within enraged me
to face you intrepidly, and to feel good in retaliation.
As a fire can’t ever extinguish or contain
another fire for they burn fast the linked space,
I confront you with composed confidence of poise,
and don’t let you incinerate the sanctum of my soul.
Flow of absolution emanates from within
with embracing empathy of divine fountain,
my compassion drenches you with serene spray,
douses the fire in you with the shower of forgiveness.
Shine on me
Showcase me
Embrace me
Encase me
Risk your life to save me
Envelop me
Face-to-face me
Fix your gaze on me
Examine me
Taste every bite of me
Skin-on-skin with me
Lay waste to me
Disparagingly disgrace me
Inflame me
Incinerate me to ash
Hide the Remainder
To wear in a vial in your pocket later.
Enmesh me until you
Outer-erase me
Eat the flesh on me
Don’t stop until
You’re completely full
And wanting more
If you’re hungry
Or thirsty
I’m always
Here for You.
Always.
If you stopped attending paid classes
Would you sell off your reading glasses:
Gladly, speedily drop out if school,
When every scholar is thought a fool?
Are you the type, who would rather bend
To an existing insisting trend:
Hang your helpful business-like manner,
Because you have changed your shop's banner?
Then, you will have become Igneous Rock,
Whose hardness one should fearlessly mock...
From the Good Sages we venerate
"Whatever is odd incinerate"
Only the right trends may control one:
When the wrong ones do, you have not won.
Led through a road paved with fire,
they thought she would incinerate;
Flying with wings of titanium
ashes only raised her higher;
They thought she would incinerate,
instead a hand grenade was thrown;
Propelled with power into the air;
Flying with wings of titanium
nothing could bring her down;
So tough wrapped in a soft sound;
Ashes only raised her higher;
Chipped polish grace sharp talons
of a woman who carved her crown.
Been to hell and back had a re-rack still stacked chips to pack/
Cut all slack and comeback sharper than a tack/
Your life is still intact to attack with so much tact to retract/
The dive your fate had cracked leaves you one ultimatum/
Gain yourself back and just claim him/
I don’t have to spit my thoughts verbatim for you to understand them/
What I’m portraying is I’m done playing I’ll be working through while it’s raining/
Whatever is paining be your own artist just painting your whole station/
You’ve soaked enough taint in forget evil and Satan become a saint man/
Concentrate on what you need to cultivate and gain cultivation/
Walk straight out of hate that’s there to incinerate your hearts clean start engraved/
Develop your own life art to let feelings depart and be torn apart paved/
Become stark with the spark in any masquerade wearing a mask to raid
frigid winds
slice through
forlorn survivors
vicious viruses
infect
silently
ignoble trolls
incinerate
merrily
loitering crowds
frolic
mindlessly
tis the season
for
force-fed
forgettable
FOLLY
her hands trembling
she held her breath.
her eyes shut tight
giving her prayer that extra effort.
knowing it would take
nothing short of a miracle.
she read and reread every word
her life precarious in the balance.
only to have her hopes crushed
in the silence of a massive tidal wave.
no matter. she swore no one could suspect.
better she take their secret to the grave.
striking the match to a corner of the letter
determined in her attempt to incinerate all memory.
AP: 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2023
New day, same day;
Depression drips
Hot on tortured meat.
Bloated grime and
Still doing time,
For beating shrinks
Just for fun we think.
Of grievous thoughts,
Of solid waste
In dampened corners
And diaper paste.
Spit trash and tinsel,
On souls unmeasured
For your child's redemption,
Or thoughts uncensored.
Back to paradise.
Wrong turns incinerate
Your blood and your mood
These brains incarcerate.
Get forked up into
Some greedy god's mouth.
Limp and lame
To rise up the South.
And your prison is yours
Made out of rock
And fried dung heaps of verbs
And fool's nouns and slop.
And the Words continue
As if looking for bliss
That you can dive into,
Just another swing and a miss.
One addiction, one penny
One car and one wreck
We kiss so slightly
The nape of the neck.
Of time driven to sorrow
Time is sliced into fours:
Drinking, dancing
Pills and a whore.
Jump and swirl.
Blasae blah.
All gumption is gone
Hallelujah.
My soul wanders in the dark alley within
with my being plunged in the pitfall of dismay.
The indistinct frailty future uncertain
casts sordid shadow of anguish
that condenses into deep darkness,
engulfing my essence in Tamasic nothingness.
The flame of Christ is then ignited within me
to incinerate the spreading wings of ego,
glow the realigned elements of the dormant spirit,
guide me away from the mirage of opulence,
and flash in the mindscape the sagacious sense,
not to be allured by Rajasic impermanence.
Freed from the errant life’s morbid web,
the cleansed soul shines with Christ consciousness
within the cauldron of timeless deep silence,
where the joy of living resonates with love.
As the rays of insight radiate from the abyss,
I am suffused with sublime Sattvaic bliss.
_________________
June 15, 2022
Contest : Threefold Flame Of Christ
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
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