The migrant mind ingrains innate impulsive expression,
wherein my muse blossoms like the flower of passion.
The patina exudes the excitement I’ve so long preferred,
transforming it into transfixed tapestry of weaved words.
The pent-up mind spreads ingenious wings to soar high,
my muse follows the singing bird in the sapphire sky.
Floating fervent on the rhythmic ripples of rhapsody
with stream of words I cascade with moving melody.
The inspired mind creates contours of excited emotion,
as my muse sails in seamless sea of intrinsic imagination,
on the waves rolling with the rhyme of feeling quiescent,
where the cadence of the heart pulsates effervescent.
The instinctive mind drifts in river of life under rainbow,
my muse glides on senses reflecting kaleidoscopic show,
enacted enthused with the vivacious verve of yearning,
the craving creates the enthralling lyric of love alluring.
If we be complete,
bliss drenched, head to feet,
why then do we choose,
to betray our muse?
From heaven to earth,
opting for rebirth,
to replay refrains,
that heart love ingrains.
Life’s a dream of course,
yet we feel remorse,
so descend to feel
hurts that we may heal.
An easier way,
is to sit and pray,
letting go of thought,
that’s ego begot.
Sans thought, ego dies,
soul flies to new highs
and as living light,
frolics in delight.
It could deplete you after a lengthy trip and oneness.
And I am yet lingering cruel by contemplating bliss.
You've defied steadily and excelled in thriving.
As you're tiresome, illustrate it muses everything.
Aside from any explicit cure, along these lines,
Is much being done to shape the planet more viable?
The sound of racing feet announces the arrival.
As the discourse progresses, fresh ingrains appear.
Is it likely that we need to tackle ruthless anger?
Many suns will rise and set after you are gone.
Eternity is not likely to depend on illumination.
Defying history, it focuses on implementation.
After crossing the street, stay straight. What entices you?
They come from the north and head to the south too.
Is it possible for you to continue without me?
Whose world will they improve or deteriorate?
What sort of altering, if any, will they bestow as respect?
But in a society that loves security, it is all fleeting note.
I hope that you can find peace and can communicate.
I urge you to start a consent and listen to God's voice.
Written: December 20, 2021
Source of our will, is but God’s breath
Infusing life in form
Stop desires, approaching in stealth
Not quite the divine norm
When thoughts cease, who remains
Save presence, free of chains
God’s wisdom thus ingrains
Hermit, be still
Source of our will
05-December-2021
Quietus
Singing our song, let us take all along
Gods pranic force flows through each beings veins
Love and light within, amplifies Ohm gong
Purity of heart, cleansing erst soul stains
Let us break free of delusional chains
Amidst hues of love, is where we belong
Head melded with heart reduces our pains
Singing our song, let us take all along
Pulse of our conscience, discerns right from wrong
Futile is pursuit of all transient gains
Shedding off weakness, let us emerge strong
Gods pranic force flows through each beings veins
Mindful presence, slowly wisdom ingrains
God beckons us, why do we take so long
Let us hand over to Him, free will reins
Love and light within, amplifies Ohm gong
Let’s plunge into the bliss current headlong
Once ego vaporises, what remains
Prayer moment to moment, thus lifelong
Purity of heart, cleansing erst soul stains
Lay to rest pilgrim, feeble ego’s brains
Extract deep wisdom by the divine’s tong
God is our saviour, each life breath maintains
Bliss for eternity, we thus prolong
Singing our song
24-August-2021
Thought cessation, with desires to rest lain
With no ego to size, we vaporise
Inner self shines forth, cleansed of feral stains
Thought cessation, with desires to rest lain
Boundless bliss in renewal, soul ingrains
Magnetism rise, heart beholds in surprise
Thought cessation, with desires to rest lain
With no ego to size, we vaporise
Inner self shines forth, cleansed of feral stains
Thought cessation, with desires to rest lain
Boundless bliss in renewal, soul ingrains
Magnetism rise, heart beholds in surprise
With no ego to size, we vaporise
Gods love and light within, we realise
03-June-2021
Write a “Trionet” for me poetry contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Save our hearts burning yearning to connect,
our doing and striving is all in vain.
Magnetic pull, wherein we stand erect,
draws love by resonation, heart ingrains,
shining within soul, free from ego stains.
Game divine, conceals and reveals in tease,
soft, soothing caress, like the morning breeze,
filling our voids, with the love elixir.
Responding to throb of embrace-release,
all nodes within, in joyful caper, whir.
26-May-2021
When subject and objects merge, what remains,
save breathing pulsation of unity,
as all-ness in separateness ingrains
wholeness of creation in certainty,
throbbing within in continuity?
Essence of presence, in continuance,
feels each nuance through inner sentience,
radiant in the vibrant bliss current,
in playful, joyous dance of innocence,
manifesting the hitherto latent.
25-April-2021
out of the frying pan, we plunge into the fire
succumbing thus to ego spawned desire
ephemeral objects, our ego aspires
where are we headed, oh hermit
our deluded cravings have no merit
fallen from grace, head and heart split
bewildered we are, amidst myriad external illusions
blown away like a leaf, is our fickle attention
clear light dawning in void of cessation
that that comes and goes unreal
save throb of bliss nothing has appeal
fire of bliss in our heart, purges and heals
nonchalant soul presence, pure and unstained
vaporising lower mind, divine joy ingrains
unaffected by worldly loss or gain
deluded ego in separateness
slowly cognises interconnectedness
transcending finally to absolute oneness
earth life then thus a journey without movement
discontentment transmuting to contentment
culminating in blissful love enablement
05-April-2021
Thy self a grand impostor,
what other people see
A bark that hides what fate ingrains,
a cover that deceives
It’s others held opinion,
that pulp you hide behind
Till lightning splits your trunk in two
—the roots left undefined
(Ronald McDonald House: February, 2020)
Death - the still air stagnant with his death
I see the lady, shattered on the floor, no breath.
Dare I touch her, reach out? I can’t - I do,
Cold eyes, a blank stare, soul flown, the ghost of you.
She halts, the ingrains in her cheeks blowing
blooms like beacons, her heart is showing.
I pull her, entice her, and bring her near,
Trap her; iron tight, the beat of her unravelling fear.
The case so bound, so wound, tight and close -
cracked. Just once, and bare eyes turned morose.
Only then, could I see the fissures, attempt the start,
The start of stitching together her broken heart.
Bethany Chipperfield
The panels faded o'er time earlier creativity constrains
Yet the material value of past visions maintains
Canvas now tinted with darker hues; youthful vigor restrains
But each, underlying tone, burnished with yesterday's dreams, remains
Once gilded strokes now meaningless, paternalistic strains
Yet the meandering pattern an innocent quality still contains
Each, delicate, insecure swab the grainy picture retains
But on the brash backstrokes the forgiving eye trains
Every callous blot each year more opprobrium drains
But every thoughtful deviation the quilted fabric ingrains
Glossy pictures of green pastures corroded by earthy stains
But ephemeral beauty from burgeoning fount surrealistic vista still feigns
The counterfeit copy the brokered ideal even more disdains
But the bartered images serve to rationalize nominal gains
My Head has rivers of thoughts through out the day and most of them will flow on
down my river of thoughts with no impact what so ever sometimes one gets stuck in
a yeti and it starts to bite my mine yet the bite has no factual evident to surgest its
true.
Then my Hart will grab that bite and give it a meaning such as Angry, hurt or
loneliness to name a few, and sometimes my hurt influences my head to fine the
thought to bite
Sometimes in a good way sometimes in a bad way but mostly in a bad way
Now the river flows to my hands and the emotions carry’s the thought which impact
the intendeds of the bite
Now my hands are lost to my action and allow the river to rage in fingers and
ingrains into my behaviour
Now when my head has a bite can you please produce all the relevant truth to what
you are saying because if you don’t you stay a stream was I control you.
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