in moments when unfocused is our gaze
yet our attention is animated
the veil of space thins wherein if we laze
with no agenda by presence stated
the pulsations of bliss unabated
positions us in peace tranquil and deep
readying us for a consciousness leap
God asks us to wait
to metamorphose
so meanwhile we laze
in blissful repose
I love a brand new day - you prefer the night
I love a nice red wine -you must drink the white.
I love the country life - you are city bred
I love our great big house - you enjoy your shed.
I love our fluffy cat - you walk with the dog
I love to laze around - you then run or jog.
I love a sunny day - you will pray for rain
I love to catch a bus - you get on the train.
I love black coffee strong - you sip on white tea
I love to read a book - you watch a movie.
I love our different ways - opposites attract
I know that you love me - that is just a fact.
Can you lie if they lay down the law
Or lay in wait for the lie
Some play the ball where it lies
Amidst the eggs the hens lay
Some laze about while lying
Others lie in wait for what lies ahead
Denying that they got layed
Because they are prone to lying
free from thought
at peace just sitting
unfocused our gaze
bliss rapture rises
even as we laze
the Bindu chakra
expands its domain
the energy grid looping form
acts as a seamless whole
conjuring a bliss storm
the head ovoid glistens
an energy band encircles the chest
tingle at palms is mirrored at our feet
what is there to search or seek
when we are bliss replete
space has a rapid blink rate
revealing clearly the light of heaven
we remain in the zone for several hours
perfect stillness time stretched peace
wherein formless presence flowers
our head ovoid
is capped by God’s hand
each node in form shines like a star
Divine Mother plays music within
on spine’s 33 stringed sitar
By unfocusing the focus of our gaze,
the shift enabled solely by heart’s intent,
by restoring vision focus we amaze,
presence in the path of ascent and descent,
caused by choiceless choice as in the void we laze,
whilst granting our innate playfulness consent.
After sight it is hearing, touch, taste and smell,
detachment from form, for ego it’s death knell.
with Bindu as the centre, bliss mists spread
enlivening all nodes they graze
and with cravings of ego long since dead
in meadows of rapture we laze
And those forever on the run,
Vain like rain ‘pon a verdant wood
Lush with leafy weeds wildly grown.
Or early morning’s fog in haze,
Gossamer gauze in its sheer mood
That vanish in lingering laze.
Or take a sun, rising nigh late
From behind tall hills like a hood,
That sets, ere entering my gate
Imagine a mid-summer’s breeze
Bare before I have had it good,
And faces doldrums’ sudden freeze.
Poems all, I was pregnant with
Once ‘pon a time, but now to brood
And miscarried nigh oh like a myth.
_______________________
Reflections |12.03.2026| breeze/wind, fog, sun, woods/weeds, tercet
We turn inward our gaze
To meet God in heaven within, our ordained fate
And then laze
Each breath sunrise
Thoughts cease, vibrant bliss beats pulsate
Pride dies
Peace dove
Mission does state
Love
We turn inward our gaze
Thoughts cease, vibrant bliss beats pulsate
Love
Misty oblivious haze
Rainforest appear to laze
Danger veiled by your daze
Lurking in lethal shadows
The sun long set
The sun's feet burried yet
In the dense canopy threat
Blind to the rumbling silhouette
Tranquil leviathan lake
Ripples soothed the ache
Tranced yet awake
Mist matched mind
Growl from behind
Tore trance from mind
Hazel orbs in fear
As the historic terror nears
Dreamy is our gaze as we laze,
we yet feel within throb of bliss,
God’s touch, which always does amaze,
transcending the way lovers kiss.
The outer world holds no allure,
dreamy is our gaze as we laze,
childlike heart gentle and demure,
in this dream that’s a passing phase.
When trapped in thought, life seems a maze
but since we are free from desire,
dreamy is our gaze as we laze,
with no goals for which we aspire.
Doing simply what heart does ask,
in bliss pastures we let soul graze,
with no to-do list and no task,
dreamy is our gaze as we laze.
on the shore
shells dance spin to implore
toy tops pirouetting in sea foam
tiny ballerinas twirling for me alone
as I splash in the shallows on the walks I roam
to enjoy the warmth of summer's blaze
on beach side holidays
laze daze faze
I Am a Time Waster.
I Love to laze away the day.
But I Am Happy. Yea I am A Happy Man.
I have time to appreciate the beauty of Nature,
Never in a hurry. I like to take my time.
I have time to spend with my loving pets.
Time enough to communicate with them, and to play with them.
Time to Feed them. Time to surf the net.
Time to write Poetry and read poems.
Time for Dominoes. Time to Lime. Time to waste.
Time to help others wherever I can. To help someone along the way.
Time to rescue an animal.
Time to hail a friend. Time to chat.
Time to check up on the cricket scores
Or Watch cricket. Time to enjoy a movie or a good documentary.
Time to eat and drink. Time to laugh. Time to joke.
Time to daydream and reminisce. Time to go to bed. Time to sleep. Time to dream.
Time to think of doin something else. Time to end this poem........this story.
Eyeing forward the sky
Eclectic, unending, space fly
Moon reflecting, antennae, sky-high
Hitherto' I yield, ensemble quietness
Silent my eyes, motionless
Peaceful musings in my mind bless
It quiets me
A place, I let no other enter free
Not a solitary soul to be
My place. My space
My quietness, embrace
It is there inside, I laze
To call upon when
I wake from blurring dream zen
In midnight room den
Resembling to find serenity
Sense of harmony
My peace and tranquility
Paris is about attitude and the art of slow living, where nothing’s urgent and everything’s fine.
But if you’re in school, that’s not true. I just began a group project (gp), and to paraphrase William Shakespeare, the storm has come again! GPs are big affairs with slow moving parts, like conceptualization and collaboration - and all that happens before any actual work is done.
Some cultures treat deadlines like casual suggestions but I get absolutely hinky in the loom of deadlines - I pace, chew fingernails and fret.
The other day, a TA (teaching assistant) asked me if I was trying to “prove something.”
The French invented ‘laze faire.’ after all, but I’m American enough to have dismissively said,
“I’d like to prove I can complete the assignment on time.”
Let’s get poet-y..
A trial comes, like a cloud, so dark it should thunder
but there’s no bromide, offer of shelter or tent to mock the storm,
it’s for us - as strangers - to return results which opinion crowns fair.
.
.
Let’s sing the blues:
O.K. I'll Play the Blues - Deanna Bogart
Emotions and Math - Margaret Glaspy
Preachin' Blues by Larkin Poe
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