Sing standing atop this rolling blue ball
little that we ever hear stays the same.
Spirits of life sound in the wind for all
there is no one else to ignite this flame.
Earth connects with each single living thing
deep within dwells the soylent shaft to strive.
So this truth can universally ring,
sing its song out loudly and feel alive.
Sense our world's center core, pent-up, stone heat;
when will it irrupt, we cannot be sure -
piercing through the crust down below our feet.
By our letting go, we shall all endure.
Learn the turnings of spirit globally
be the balance to be forever free.
108 words 14 lines Sonnet 2/7/23
Tribute to "Spirit of Life", Unitarian hymn.
References made to Buddhist principles of
"oneness", "letting go" and "impermanence"
in the text. Mention of the phrase "Soylent
Shaft" refers to the 1973 movie Soylent Green.
Illustration in colored pencil by G. Gaul
Categories:
irrupt, analogy, deep, earth, environment,
Form: Sonnet
Try to open your third eye
Sharp your sixth sense
You can clearly see
This earth is still passing through ice-age.
People would say
This summer was the hottest ever!
If you’d inquire, you must see
The sun is now heatless
Not able to melt the deposited ice
Of this helpless earth.
Who knows when these fossils would get back
Their lives, how ?
Who knows, after stepping up how many stairs
Life would take the shape of human ?
Who can predict the exact moment
When this civilization would reach
At the zenith position of the square
In the lightless sky
When would this indolent sun
Burn the impurities of million hearts ?
Oh! The belated winter is unbearable
Fear in my body
Impotence in my flesh
I’m collecting my bones
To set fire and burn my soul.
One day ashes of my body would be deposited
Under the igneous rock
To irrupt as a Volcano.
Categories:
irrupt, beauty, motivation, mystery, myth,
Form: Free verse
Ambivalence amends itself
when ambition challenges the amoral freedom
like the ambrosia we partook of,
something prohibited to humans...
that only the mythological gods
had the pleasure to enjoy;
and we adorn our heads with narcissus,
defying our worthless repulsion...
until we suffer the first defeat with dismay:
and as ambiguity leads to anguish,
there's little left that we can relish!
What if shame made us anonymous,
and all the senseless living done: were bleak existence,
cursing torment persistently to absolve every fault...
nipping the nocturnal stillness
with its fulsome, invariable obscurity?
We'll irrupt our consciousness,
make an invidious invocation to nothingness,
inviting helplessness irascibly:
and as ambiguity leads to anguish,
we have no choice but to invent excuses,
making up words to invert another unsound thought!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
irrupt, confusion, introspection
Form: Free verse