Ghostly fear forms, a dark gossamer web,
caged my consciousness once cradled by bliss
but try as I might, my pain did not ebb,
hurtling me down a bottomless abyss.
Feeling grief-stricken, situation grave,
my weary, groaning soul godforsaken,
searched for heaven’s gate, so that God may save
me from dark despair that left mind shaken.
Trauma bonding with fear no more, I paused,
shifting to heart, pushing open love’s gate,
engulfed in bliss mists, pure intent had caused,
breath by breath reshaping my earth life fate.
Walking the path of light, God-search I start ~
He dwells in the cave of my glowing heart
An echo is felt, touched, recalled,
it drums against our hearts,
strikes softly upon the ringing
shell of being.
An echo hammers upon an open door,
it is unconcerned with any closeted desires,
it is not ours to interpret.
Echo's image comes to us
wrapped within a blossoming,
an ever-opening vowel of vocalic enticement.
Lily-padding slippers tread lightly
yet step loudly upon the mind.
I welcome all dark flowers,
their language is throb and vibration.
I am awakened by the sensual stem,
pulled up into an erotic drumming,
resounding echo's don, the flesh of myself.
Echo is the face of memory,
it is the naming of names,
Echo returns our call
whether spoken or not.
For a moment we tremble like a leaf
that the wind impartially fondles.
© 33 mins ago
To Me
to me your love looks inward
you only serve yourself
from where I sit, no one else is included
even I am left out
why did we marry
“We can ascend, if we so choose
Making love and light, our heart’s muse”
~ quote by poet
Holy Spirit works upon feeble form,
without employing any use of force,
thus progress is faster, if we conform.
Soul turns inward when heart’s filled with remorse,
disillusioned with the world external,
living internally, changing life’s course.
The fire of desire is hell infernal
but no sooner we befriend the vast void,
we imbibe rapture of bliss eternal.
Benign bliss burns see delusion destroyed,
whence our soul’s light shines, pure and unalloyed.
I've heard the beginning and end of many stories told
I've seen life's flame flicker out both young and old
But the world keeps turning
I've had love conquer and condemn us vay
I've seen trenches dug and filled with dreams of the day
But the world keeps turning
Nobody wants to be truly free
Nobody wishes a future they can't presently see
But the world keeps turning
I hope for freedom and peace my friend
I hope as blissful as your innocent beginning was so shall be your end
But will the world be turning?
I wish all hope and goodness is fulfilled
Without the payments of sufferings and temperance is willed
I hope we never see the world stand still
And i know it will keep turning
Diving into the quiet, I find myself
Standing still for just a moment
Open to all possibilities, dreams and hope
I never knew they were there
Possibilities exist for us all
We are unsure where to look
When you find it, you will know
There was always this place for us
Dreams belong to you and me
Yet we can follow ones that aren’t meant for us
They do not serve our path
We know when things don’t seem to fit
The direction is there
Give it time
It will show itself to you
We must be patient
Time belongs to us all
Close your eyes
Quiet your mind
Look inside
Don’t be afraid to search
Don’t be afraid to be wrong
Redirect your course
There you will find hope
A washed-out skyscape
where mountains climb,
only to be ripped apart
by small gusts of wayward winds.
Is it that my eye is gray, or is the day
waiting to be colored?
Sky high hues
are contained in small paint pots.
Our inner artist
is looking upon its featureless soul.
That unseen picture
needs us to complete the rainbows,
fill-in the vivid and half-hidden,
to add color to drab fields,
sparkling reflections to every window
in all bricked-up cities.
To daub uniqueness onto the ordinary.
To take a different and another look
at how it is we,
that can wash in the washed out
with an ever-willing eye.
A Look Inward At Darkness In The Mortal Soul
Strange now rests overburdened seas and hapless stars
Undiscovered jungle villages that think all earth is flat
Those that slow walk total blindness but never drank in bars
And in the tepid night, those that never hit when at bat
Yet Nature marches without clock or a smidgeon of guilt
It far flies its soul outward for all mortal men to see
In the secret alley truth is stabbed up to the hilt
All the while oppressors wage a war against you and me!
Strange now rests overburdened seas and hapless stars
Those that slow walk total blindness but never drank in bars
Yet Nature marches without clock or a smidgeon of guilt
In the secret alley truth is stabbed up to the hilt.
Undiscovered jungle villages that think all earth is flat
And in the tepid night, those that never hit when at bat
It far flies its soul outward for all mortal men to see
All the while oppressors wage a war against you and me!
Robert J. Lindley, 6-26-2023
Rhyme++
beauty,
not the cherished gift
fated to be ravaged
by father time,
but the enduring kind
the naked eyes cannot see.
the beauty that resides
deep within the crevasse
of the soul
and shines out
like rays of the sun,
exploding like a supernova,
now and then;
that's the kind of beauty
that age can never diminish.
inward beauty
matters infinitely more
for it is so true, and lives on
beyond
the span of a lifetime.
Date written: 05/03/2023
Acquaintance
harmonize
praise
optimize
&aspire
serenity
convey
bestow
believe
&bolster
perceive
perform
poise
persuade
&persevere
aplomb
support
sensation
nurture
&cuddle
magnify
maintain
manage
mediate
&motivate
cogitate
handle
heave
hoist
&hone
select
alternative
celebrate
compete
&connect
vanquish
reconcile
venerate
graciously
&vouchsafe
chivalrously
weave
weep
whisper
&withstand
unbuckle
reveal
understand
to untangle
&utterly
1st place contest winner
Written: March 08, 2023
Strand Premier No 1096 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
If a man is blessed with outward beauty but lacks the beauty of the soul
Never he, true happiness would find!
However,
If a man lacks outward beauty but is blessed with the fairness of the soul
Never he, unhappiness would know!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
28 February 2023
_
As always, I would like to share the honor of the POTW with all of you my friends that stood by me all these years. I also thank the officials of PoetrySoup. Blessings.
-
The years forever lost to time
but each moment is perpetual
Dreams packed and stored in the instant
of the wills inception
Centuries of regret erased
in the flash of a second baptism
Stillness calling us inward
—eternally reborn
(The New Room: June, 2022)
The bark of my knowing
is rotting away
With grain left exposing
what memory betrays
Those things I pushed outward
root deeply within
As the oldest of wood
—makes the best violin
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
Looking inward more often lately
Is it a sign of age now that I'm over eighty
Dwelling on my life
Devoid of strive
Hope my departure won't be too hasty
Silence. All but the scratching of a pencil,
blocked out by a far away place.
Words never spoken, cease to be heard.
Eyes seeing nothing, never telling what they saw.
A state of mass confusion, although forever quiet.
Life, my soul, my mind.
I sit in a room filled with people not there.
Puzzled, yet knowing everything never told.
"I love you" comes out. Why so easily said?
Love's not really there, yet it's rapidly growing.
Understanding everything but really knowing nothing.
Life, my soul, my mind.
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