Have all fears and desires been to rest lain~
Are thoughts and sensory inputs our chain
noticing feeling of restlessness arise
a stirring related to body-mind
dweller of our heart expressed surprise
at how such illusions do bind
poised in stillness we review our rebound time
to return to silence bliss energised
beyond space-time, no mountains to climb
where truth of Self is realised
sensory inputs amplified by ego
have served us well but to escape their spell
we shift into the boat God does row
which is how the cat we so bell
since we wish not to live life in past tenses ~
we embrace and release inputs from senses
the mirror is shattered; there is no one here ~
all that that is, is God’s presence everywhere
Maya, the veil we may call illusion,
is differentiated perception,
which believing real is delusion,
sensory inputs causing deception,
conditioned belief and preconception.
As long as we believe we’re body-mind,
cravings of ego grip us in their bind,
freedom from which requires a shift to heart,
love enabled, with all mankind entwined,
eye single, whence our God-search quest can start.
caged in form, memory erased
constrained by a fragmented mind
sensory inputs leave us dazed
to light of Self within heart blind
scriptures cajole us to explore
truth of being and so awake
by being still, making heart pure
lust and fear choosing to forsake
with head and heart poised in balance
viewing life like a lucid dream
mood and mode vibrant nonchalance
we sing a song on love’s moonbeam
in timeless time, ego recedes
we dwell in the eternal now
through our hands God performs His deeds
with each heartbeat in joy we bow
with thoughts rested, time too slows down
we recognise space is a veil
at peace within, in bliss we drown
soma nectar our preferred ale
in as ordained, our ego drops
the dead leaf falls off from the tree
the universe fades and time stops
revealing our Self, at last free
living light, shaped like a heartbeat
is who we are, outside space-time
self-existent, feeling complete
in peace it renews heart’s love chime
holy scriptures point out the way
prompting us to metamorphose
that we may see God, clear as day
whilst resting in blissful repose
A-im
N-either
T-o
O-ppose
N-ew
I-nsights
N-or
O-bstruct
Q-ueries
U-ntil
I-deas
D-o
D-etail
A-ll
M-essages
©bfa051025
Monocrostic (Birthday of Antonino F. Quiddam)
bombarded with sensory inputs
each nuance felt but not analysed
as pure awareness witnessing this
the boons of grace for us customised
we remain at peace suffused with bliss
Caressed by a gentle breeze, we’re at ease,
fully present in the eternal now,
where all we do is embrace and release,
God-graced sensory inputs that endow.
We get to the source without use of force,
regulating neither breath nor our thoughts,
feeling bliss magnetism charter its course,
having no urge within to join the dots.
Suffused with cool heat, which is now the norm,
in truth there is nothing for us to do,
save remaining centred in this bliss storm,
wherein each rapture spasm is felt as new.
Strewn with rose petals, we walk the bliss path,
each moment in time, a holy sabbath.
Amidst the noisy world,
A unique character is bound,
Every creature has a sound,
A little moment shared, will find.
A day cold and drizzly,
Folks remain warm and sturdy,
Thin icy drops cheer their voice,
A dense squall amplifies the noise.
A rough buzz in the debate ground,
Eyes glued to the stand,
A diverging array of political discourse,
Convincingly, to retire the crowds’ doubts.
Cheers to whoever gifts the gab,
Some fellows are a conviction hub,
From thin air, they weave a narrative,
A magnetic tale, captivates even the brave.
A hard, engaging problem,
A simple mind game,
A peasant knows where to expect the most yield,
Conditions, inputs and efforts revealed.
The clock ticks, the dusk is near,
Eyes aghast, stomach butterflies in fear,
Cheers and jubilations crown the best,
Who knows what’s in mystery chest for the rest.
Leadership isn’t confined to a position,
Inability to win over crowd isn’t the end,
The courage to try is a sip of champagne,
Sit with the kings, wisdom ascends.
sensory inputs and thoughts blind
these impulses relate to body-mind
there’s no harm, we signed up for this
but at our core, we’re love, light and bliss
sensory inputs and thoughts that bind
they relate to body-mind
there’s no harm; we signed up for this
but at our core, we’re love, light and bliss
A hospitable host for the poets all over
Decorated with the festoons of poems
Disseminating the aroma of knowledge
With eye-feasting and insightful portraits
Serene and sweet music of audio clippings
Ragas of divergent genres with positive vibes
Free from the constraints of domestic walls
Cognizance of rich inputs with impartial judgements
Supportive dais for classic and novice poets
Sharing of different beliefs and traditions
A storehouse of passions and emotions
Bringing myriad thoughts across the world together
A lovely platform that has accommodated me
Poetry Soup – A new world of linguaphiles!
Place : 2nd
There are 12 types of joy:
simple joy
almost joy
systemic joy
Saturday joy
expressing joy
knowing joy
all joy
max joy
constant inputs of joy
single greatest joy
sacrifice or joy
the face of joy
at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.
Outro
It’s only noise when
evolving’s not desired.
Static sounds akin
to burning uninspired.
As resentment steams
no one dreams
of movements that might have been.
Look again, the audio’s adjustable!
Loudness muffled and hushed…
Fixed? Unsafe? Combustible.
“This tune will not be rushed!”
Operating the soundboard
the inputs slide and fade
until something new's discoverable.
Though wanting to suspend
settling the score
a movement’s been penned
(like many before).
The creative endeavor
that seemed would last forever
is simply at its end.
When we were created, we were given limited senses,
perhaps so as not to overwhelm our finite minds.
Like God, we delight in order, and there is much that we can do.
But our appetite for inputs has become a perilous addiction
and strains the limits even of our strengthening reasons.
We cannot tease the story from the storm.
So we snap-
13 October 2023
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