in cacophony continuum
incongruent noise draft navigates
the decibel waves
beyond the fringe of discernment
n u m b e d
while the sense of frenzy
feels the quieting caress
f o r l o r n
of still calmness
as the halcyon emotive sagacity
sinks slow in hermit serenity
u n e x p r e s s e d
in the remote impulsive recess
of the mute mind
i n s e n s a t e
disparaging dissonance
finally fades away
in the twilight zone
as the vibrato of the last spectrum
echoes in the sonata of solitude
finds nascent niche
t r a n q u i l
strikes reticent concord
s e n s u o us
in the concerto cord
of the harmonic harp
as the taciturn voice of essence
serenades the lilting lyric of the last mile
in the sanctum of silence
s e r e n e
"Some believe they must earn a life in heaven.unaware heaven is already their home" ~ CayCay
Human life is striving for joy while saturated with busy
bits of an emotional seesaw, its movements leave traces
in so many places, our goal seems pre-disabled. So, it
is that despite emotional throes we seek fulfillment over
and over.
As God's own designed, divine-honed souls, we are
light sourced as formed in His realm. Reincarnation is the
tutorial for achieving the brightest possible spiritual light.
To earth we are sent countless times, exposed to endless
human themed rhymes. We die, into heaven we slide,
advanced souls review and guide us through all we failed
to discern, all we taught - be it good or an influence
incongruent with who we really are. A karma is decided and
once again a soul is flesh ignited. Once a soul has met all
goals, the most radiant color is bestowed; the color of
euphoric radiance star-shining for eternity.
born human on earth
to spirit world all return ~~
man visits tombstones
Rhapsody of rainbow
morphs melted
into morose mélange,
scattered in sullen sky.
Bleeding colors bleached
from twilight cloud
ruinous rainstorm daubs
as derelict blemish
on abandoned shards
of broken heart.
Shades of blue
permeate pining
frayed linen
of lost love.
Requiem of roses
resonates profound
in melancholic concerto.
Drooping petals languish
for dripping tear drops
of mourning dew,
desiccating dismayed
in somber sunshine
in deserted mind,
where for bracing
cold desolate stone
fallen flowers
make bouquet
for deceased passion.
Cacophony capsuled
in suffusing cauldron
of mute melody,
lost in tempestuous sea
of incongruent tune,
chaotic symphony
dismantles harmony
on discordant waves.
Synthetic smiles sneer
scarred scenario
of lonesome life.
Sanguine songs turn
to convoluted noise,
echoing in solemn soul.
Lattice of life
seen through
languid cynic lens
magnifies mystified
into crooked contortion
of eschewed essence.
Air aided in gravel’s travel
Its ricocheting rhythm
Rhythming like the crunch
Of an ocean
The steps of someone
The left and right side
Sway as incongruent tides
Whatever winds wind up
Within an earshot, it becomes
Tapped in our orbit
Wonders of the world all around
Wondering what it will be like
To be a cherished kind of sound
fleck of dust noticed
flicked off our shirt
reflex response
jarring earth life notes
incongruent with harmony
triggers involuntary aversion
within awakened cognition
we seek sacred geometry
as innate pull of our soul
thoughts and sense impulses
wax and wane like yonder moon
beseeching us to seek order in chaos
to this end we shift into silence
contoured by consciousness
until identity drops away
Meeting begins, each puts best foot forward,
in as outer appearances do go,
behind banter lurk motives untoward,
sweet words incongruent with intent low,
just waiting to land a deadly death blow.
Weary of blood and gore, been here before,
we sift subterfuge and get to the core,
our call being, it’s not winner take all,
both sides must rejoice, seeking an encore,
in righteousness thus, players standing tall.
11-April-2022
“He's out of his league” the saying goes
Deliver the words to a poignant rapture
Along the way and through the never
Success brings a certain stumbling
Darker each day, the writing withers
Even the best delay induction
Fortune belies the power to run
A mind to the source instruction
Since a spendthrift soon wilts
Better to crack wide-open throttle
Rather than bottle what cannot be stopped
Stamped incongruent but not incomplete
One may many a scripture read
Of disparate, divergent views,
Incongruent their wisdom’s creed,
Heavy that weighs down to confuse:
Hindu monks walk in saffron wear,
Buddhists in their tawny yellow,
All-white a wear’s what Jains prefer,
And some wear naught but their halo!
Doubt, dress can cloud a confused mind.
If so whose wisdom should one tow?
Who can help higher up to grow?
Who can help hereafter to find?
You indeed, self help any day,
Be thy own light, find thy own way.
__________________________________
Sonnets | 17.08.2014 |
Poet’s note: Anand was Buddha’s key disciple and an elder cousin. Seeing his master breathing his last, he felt a void without his guru’s guiding spirit. It is then that Buddha uttered his last words: Be thou thy own light. He contemplated on these words and realized true knowledge within a day of Buddha’s death.
____________________________________________
Sonnets | 17.08.14 |
Resourceful
Libidinous slacker resilient convict
Sister of Chad Destiny Trevor Linus and Ray
Lover of freedom fiction and vodka
Who feels insignificant hopeful and incongruent
Who fears rejection withdrawal attachment
Who would like to see acceptance publication serenity
Resident of nowhere
Scribbler
Written 01-28-19
Writing Challenge 2, Bio Form, January 2019 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
Poignant concentric circles speak
lies ever present keeps us in
social chess limbo
one step forward----limitless
backs to a mirrored standstill
focus of one against everything
and yet nothing really stands in
our way, but----------ourselves.
Wavering our intent to do what is
taught right, converges on a purpose
to be US----non levied--incongruent
proactive engaged--centered and corporeal
in our global love, splintered, spawned and sealed
in a charity of actions all of which, what kind,
how many and whose-----------will always begin at
HOME.
This kindred of separation
this breed apart
this top of the food chain
and its self distinction by the manipulation of thumbs
This arrogance of intelligence
with its pocket-sized reasoning of knowledge
and by default applies its logic
this incongruent species of taking everything for granted
These nations of waring factions
and the tyrannies of their religions
and all their obsessive obsessions with death
and all their cognitive dissonance of life
All the distractions
the desperate intentions
to impart some measure of meaning
some inkling of purpose for a life they have never really lived
Predisposed to elitism
by their own sense of division
this bipedal predator of vertebrate mammalian
assumes all of creation was only created for them
And in their frustration
and with their playground experience
they build all manner of weapons
to beat the crap out of the people living with them
Still the sun shines
and only by its grace do they continue to exist
all the quantum theories and universal singularities
do not help them with catharsis
they survive only by the elements of a planetary symbiosis
Digressive Death
Deflected by summer’s breeze
Find me fallen upon my knees
Now it’s time for a pensive prayer
To let go thoughts thru abrasive air
Digressive death, I will weepingly awaken
To search the heavens that have forsaken
Longing for love within the internal light
Drenched in darkness of nocturnal night
To cries of anguish we must respond
Lachrymal lure of Satan’s spawned
Lucid layers of decaying dreams
Suffocating silences in strangled screams
Incongruent idols, immaculate imagery
Fallen angels of beguiling brilliancy
Treasured tombs that satiate the soul
Amongst wandering winds, on midnight's stroll.
Jan.23.2017
The Poet And I - Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose
Tex’s shadow defines him—cut-out
from the heat haze of Karnak’s quartz,
a scintillating contrast to Egypt’s questing sun.
He slouches among the other black castings of
denser composition mottled with grays,
and Prussian blues, incongruent in a cowboy
hat. This six-gun scenario’s frame
disrupts the crafted precision of
a chiseled arch.
****-kicker, lizard-skinned, boots point
toward the desert’s dunes—death hides.
Needing no words to enjoy a taste of antiquity,
Tex shuffles sighs and takes a draw on
an American cigarette. With a flick of his fingers,
he deposits the butt alongside the others
in the white sand. His contribution
to posterity.
First Published in Spank the Carp Issue 21 2016
over joyed by the
imminent alignments
of wondrous insights
completion of this enormous
cycle of transmuted energy
she is a conduit of love
incongruent feelings
harnessed affections
burning in orange flames
pre ordained divine consorts
dysfunctional blood lines
purging pure vesels
she is a conduit of love
sep 14 2016
7.37 pm
Is the data congruent?
Is the hypothesis centrivical?
A mix of incongruent inconsistencies
Go back to the lab
Put in on a slab
Revamp the mix
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