Long Auditory Poems
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Niitthaar Perumai: The Fundamental Role of the Ascetic, Kurals 24, 25 & 26, Translations with commentary
K24: niraimoli maanthar perumai nilatthu
maraimoli kaadti vidum.
The might of men whose word is never vain,
The 'secret word' shall to the world proclaim. (Tr. G.U.Pope)*
* In the Pope edition of the Kural, this's number 28.
He who guides his five senses by the book of wisdom,
will be a seed in the world of excellence. (Tr. W.H.Drew & J.Lazarus)
In this world, the ascetic's greatness will reveal itself
through (magically) unfathomable means. (Tr. T.Wignesan)
K25: suvaioli pooroosai naarramen rainthin
vagaitherivaan kaddee ulagu.
Taste, light, touch, sound, and smell: who knows the way
Of all the five, -- the world submissive owns his sway. (Tr. G.U.Pope)*
*In the Pope edition, this kural is numbered: 27.
The world is within the knowledge of him who knows the properties of taste,
sight, touch, hearing, and smell. (Tr. W.H.Drew & J.Lazarus)
Only ascetics who control the five senses: gustatory, visual, tactile, auditory,
and olfactory - can influence (and possess) the world. (Tr. T. Wignesan)
K26: seyatkariya seivaar periyaar ciriyar
seyatkariya seikalaa thaar.
Things hard in the doing will great men do;
Things hard in the doing the mean eschew. (Tr. G.U.Pope)
The great will do those things which it is difficult to do; the mean
cannot do those things which it is difficult to do. (Tr. W.H.Drew & J.Lazarus)
Men who have renounced this world can do what is out of reach of those who
remain attached to this world. (Tr. T. Wignesan)
(Here, it would be tautological if "niitthaar' were to be translated as"great or noble" men in the sense of the "jun tzu" of the Yi Jing. The emphasis is clearly on the element of sacrifice: the wilful suppression of the rewards of the five senses and their concomitant detachment of benefits available for selfish indulgence, so much so that a more literal translation would sound rather platitudinous, such as:
Big things can be done by big people. Small men who attempt to carry out great undertakings will fail.
In other words, the purpose of this couplet is somewhat dubious (it doesn't add to our knowledge); it rather looks like a "filling in" of the decade. T.Wignesan)
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
I hate robocalls!
Inxs of recorded messages
transmitted automatically
to my telephone number
by automatic dialing device.
I turn off damn ringer,
and disassemble (carefully
as disabling a time bomb)
internal workings nevertheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls
digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape
gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into
outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
(minus the green eggs)
oh... yes even after life,
while weightlessly
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...
yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal
spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author
instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly,
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly
vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)
sundering coalescence
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,
contributes to conspiracy theory
linkedin with ghost calls
thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams
on a green day.
Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living person
asked courteously by his name
of the human league,
I police tell the caller
purely coincidental!
Brought back from the world of fantasies
By the 8’o clock warning device
Raised up undesirably at a lazy pace
Retrieving the welcoming hateful whole day race.
Jaded by the whole day lecture and ruined by assignments
Projects got to be compiled and pending PPTs
Next week’s above mentioned tasks
The lecturer did a job on my weekend plans.
Beetling of from the blue mind
On the way back paid for a RS pint
The evening amiability
Then changed my midday adhor.
Desirous roomie on my glass
Extended my evening all to night.
Budget hashed out and yet a penny left
Contribution counted to three
Held back for the late-night hour,
Program scheduled just after dinner.
Prepared nuts and crisped chicken
Horror flick lappy screen and encircled auditory sensation
Filtered flake lit up and welcoming the upcoming
Pollyannaish mood.
Three ready glasses and poured down first small pegs
Mixed with soda and measured cold drinks
Awaited Cheer up, is now appraised.
Valueless gabs and college couple scandals
Tittle-tattle few lectures and against soul mate’s lambasts.
Last sip downed
And the empty glasses quashed.
A bit stronger second and third
And the time seems to date-back.
Bulge out blushed eyes and orbing love stain bed
Latent hostility and fags myriad.
Enthroned activities
Except time none to put an end.
Deaf-mute fourth and last
Heedful sore past
Lonesome few moments and
Unenviably brought back.
A maudlin reverie expression
To see the past back to present
If matters could be deepened
Would endure the malign again.
Roused up from blues and faced the benighted
Sleety mezzanine and beetle-browed breeze
Yet stood placidly
To face the agony.
Mere empty thoughts
And faded memories
Seemed to calve a baseless spirit.
A sudden wink,
Out from the world of miasmas
To a reining state –
Caught up with existing faith
A new time ignited.
Bibulous state and duple images –
A feel to fly
And uncivilly liberty,
Did a moment time
An unexpected eternity.
The night to welcome the dawn
And unwished obscurity nap
Impermanent few hours of morning
Lasted till…….
Retrieving once again the hateful whole day race.
Form:
Darkness looms, even in the stariest of night.
Fears come forth attacking those with sight.
You hinder, you holler, but no one can see, what my minds eye is trying to tell me.
I myself cannot, place a finger hold.
I myself cannot, hear what is told.
I myself cannot, be ever so bold.
With shaking hands, and knotted gut,
Thoughts litter the soul, for what?
Anxieties fester, emotions run high,
Dreams or visions flying by.
What is truth, neigh it false?
Be it death or with a pulse.
Aromas, auditory signs come with;
having sight, not always a gift.
When one cannot gather what's meant to be.
Why was sight given to me?
The dead come, memories they share.
Of people I don't know, raping my mind bare.
Messages, colors, gems or smells.
Reminders that not all is well.
Nor Gods, nor demons, we understand.
Nor Angels, nor the power of the common man.
Nor past, nor future shall bestow.
Her eyes show only transverse modes.
To feel others pains, to share in their sorrows.
Makes life unbearable at times, to search for brighter 'morrows.
To keep the secrets from prying ears.
Acting normal for many years.
To bear the fruit of others labors.
Wish upon wishes, thankless favors.
"Turn to your tarot cards" my horoscope did say.
I have yet to do so, till this day.
May it be because of fear.
May it be because I don't want to hear; what spirit may speak.
May it be because I don't want to seem weak.
Black magic,
Voodoo dolls,
Fortune tellers,
See'ers of all.
Shall I choose to open the cards?
Being sure to take safeguards.
Only seek the light and love.
Only seek the information from above.
It is odd when a spirit takes hold.
As though you're not listening to what's being told.
Your body reacts in so many different ways.
JUST TELL ME ALREADY, my minds ablaze.
When unable to tell if good or bad.
Sensations have been known to drive people mad.
What ever it was has since returned.
This story is what's happening, pages turned.
Colors and whispers, they unfold.
There is something unfortold.
BUT WHAT? PLEASE JUST TELL ME?
OR OTHERWISE, PLEASE JUST LET ME BE.
~mp (copyright protected)
Spring equinox arrived March 20th, 2021 at 5:37 AM
No burlesque across the globe
upstages mother nature's emergent style
soundlessly donning and trumpeting
resplendent metaphorical pregnant Gaia,
whose all encompassing bulging robe
magnificently, albeit modestly evinces
matronly dame parading and sauntering,
she intimates readiness to give birth
regarding multitudinous flora and fauna,
whereby swath groundswell of color
and panoply of sound bursts forth.
A symphony with terrestrial
ecological community, which life forms abound
via natural laboratory qua nature,
especially at seasonal dawn of spring tide,
where multifarious existence can be found
carving out a figurative zoological niche
in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds galore
idyllic melodic musical sound
artist palette of rainbow blended sights
assuage auditory and
visual sense pleasures respectively.
No gofundme donation required-
unless ye clamor to proffer expense
(toward fame and fortune
concerning one garden variety
long haired pencil necked geek
to regale sensational experience,
but before further lines get read
please be mindful
to take lock, stock, and barrel
of mine existential sponsor,
thus a brief plugged statement to
??? ???????? ???????? ????? ??0?????0? ?0? ????.
Now back to regularly scheduled program
trying to entrance ye dear reader
incorporating titanic and tectonic processes,
(albeit all natural wonders)
constituting eight ways
to build strong bodies
bred courtesy punctuated equilibrium
nudging advantages to outvie
one living thing
versus another organism.
Winter of our (collective) discontent
alleviated courtesy pagan earth goddesses
prestidigitation delivering cathartic holistic
and poetic botanical balms,
which salve (age long in the tooth)
psychological wounds.
Show stopping stunning performance
stills lovers embrace
long anticipating nonpareil experience,
nevertheless straining credulity
of visual and aural senses,
where collective awed pinterests
silences onlookers evoking
masterpiece rendered still life
among webbed plant and animal species.
Besotted winged pollinators
roistering barrage drowned
amidst general insectivorous cacophony
indistinct auditory signals communicated
intermingled with bounteous wafting fragrance
midwifed edenic floral pullulation
sensate admixture viz colored spectrum
amidst unrehearsed extemporaneous
orchestral suite bedded lambs
amorous ewe man like bleating songs
nature all aflutter actively socially vociferating
profuse living color rainbow pastiche
teeming soundgarden smorgasbord
cornucopia ignites mordent Utopian aural swath
visual vistas stilling spellbinding
spilling riotous carpeted web
uniting doubting Thomas's existentialism
despite unanswered queries
asper diverse modalities each specie evolved
to survive despite countervailing destructive forces
generating plethora pandemonium ironically
promulgating harmonic exemplary convergence
Highland Manor concourse aflame with new life
parented by instinctive imprimatur anonymous patents
now genetic mapping usurped with untold outcome
analysis bred crispr discovery Earthlings fiddling
glorifies honied indemnity Judeo-Christian kudos
leaves of grass kudzo resistance mutation immunizes
biosphere once prolific differentiation shrinks
becoming monocultural setting virtual stage
catastrophe plus food shortage would become
global debacle predicated, sans virulent
viral and/or bacterial strain renting asunder
tripwire unspooling delicate webbed whirl
already widely compromised more so
since Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring
*****sapiens population explosion
pits profligate predilections planet Earth in extremis
dire crisis cavalierly dismissed humans
in hot pursuit racking up superfluous wealth
dirty deeds done dirt cheap - tricking
mother nature, who will unwittingly
spring scrumptious feeding off scrimmage
forcing capitulation or total extinction
meanwhile fostering long tall floral inflorescence
a composite having sessile flowers
apiary abuzz, cuz queen bee
can no longer wax bereft of royal jelly.
Five lobes of the brain have we evolved
All doing different jobs but all intervolved.
And all these lobes, just mm thick
But still so unique and they do the trick.
This layer, as thin as can be
Cell bodies, gray matter in both you and me.
All the lobes does a number of things
And to the table each will bring
Some special function not shared at all
And each function is nothing small.
The frontal lobe deals with movement
Having fun or paying the rent.
Anterior to the central sulcus
The primary motor cortex, homunculus.
And on it the body pattern distorted
With motor efferent numbers reported.
On the opposite end is the occipital lobe
And for magazines is the vogue.
For vision here is processed such
That colors we see are so much
Trichromatic we’re called because we see three
Blue, green and red, the cones we can see.
The temporal lobe is on the side
And its importance we will not slide.
The auditory cortex on this region
Has a map of each audition.
Different frequencies along a line
That allow our hearing to be sublime.
And this tonotopic map, just to make it more fun,
Is exactly the same in everyone.
Olfaction is also found on this part
The last stop for smell, quite far from the start.
The only sense that isn’t modified
And gets to the brain without being tried.
Under the temporal hidden from view
A lobe of importance you should not skew.
It is the center for pain and taste.
Life without flavor, what a waste.
And of course pain, not to be ignored
Never builds up, never gets ignored.
Last the parietal, a very odd place
The association cortex coordinating space.
This is where you first perceive touch
And the ability you have is much.
The sensory afferents that lead there
All must need to share
The area behind the sulcus central
Allows you to feel your dog, your best pal.
And the homunculus there functions the same
But this one has sensory function for fame.
Sensory afferents taking up space
So you can have feelings all over your face.
Dreams are a window to the future, real or surreal - poet.
If it was a dream it was like no other,
soft, delicate, with silky feathers
the angel beckoned me to
an enchanting embrace.
I was tempted but
couldn’t break the shackles
of diamonds, gold, silver
and all the precious stones
put together.
They were not just priceless,
they were strung with
a mystical, gossamer thread.
I tried hard but the magical
chains were overpowering,
The angel came close
I could feel the fragrance
of heavenly musk
her breath redolent
with nectar and ambrosia.
She bloomed like a lotus,
face glowing like a sunflower,
something I could never
attribute to women
of this world.
My strength was of no match
against the unworldly magic
of the chains.
Proximity of the angel and her
intoxicating body scent
was driving me, transporting me
to a far-off land unlike
any I had seen.
My tired eyes gazed at the pink seas
and blue sands, woods a
pale carmine yellow, the birds of a
colour rainbow danced
in tune with the music
created by the rhythmic
frothy, cream-pink waterfall.
The sky was
of a deep crimson hue
as if a gargantuan had
been slayed and the
tapestry above stained
with ungrateful blood.
It was both surreal and
utterly believable
at the same time.
My legs were still
in shackles, and I
was resigned to the fate
of an eternal prisoner.
I thought of the angel
who had come so close
to me offering an embrace.
What was her motive?
Was she offering me the
Kiss of death?
Am I going to die, dying, or
Am I already dead?
Amidst the cacophony
of the animals and birds,
my auditory nerves were
transporting faint signals of
someone approaching.
The sound of the steps
muted by the soft sands,
the dull sounds were from
behind, I turned around.
The angel was close, but
this time there was no
musky fragrance, only
earthly smell.
She touched, a bolt
of lightning hit me
and I blacked out.
Not sure it was a dream,
if I ever wake up I’ll find out.
PHONEY BALONEY
They said:
"We've come here from head office, to help you reach your quota
It's a selfless act on our part and we're going to devote a
Day or two to set you right and get things under control"
I thought:
"Phoney baloney, plastic banana, good time rock-n-roll"
She said:
"This new law will be wonderful if we can only get it passed
Then we'll find out what is in it that makes it such a blast
It's far too complicated for the likes of you poor souls"
Aw!
"Phoney baloney, plastic banana, good time rock-n-roll"
The President was so clever he'd make fundamental change
Transform his 'evil' country, redistribute, rearrange
Take from those who had succeeded, hand it all out in a dole
Clever?
"Phoney baloney, plastic banana, good time rock-n-roll"
It was spread across front pages, it was broadcast on the wind
One week later on the back page in small print was the rescind
If we accept it all then maybe we'll believe anything we're told
Though it's
"Phoney baloney, plastic banana, good time rock-n-roll"
Galileo had a problem in reporting what he saw
Church had faith that it knew better, and those days controlled the law
Signor Galilei was persuaded his integrity had to fold
Gave in to:
"Phoney baloney, plastic banana, good time rock-n-roll"
Man-made Climate change now dogma we must not question nor belie
'Debate is over! close down research! it is heresy to deny'
If that's what we now call science, we've caught an intellectual cold
For it's
"Phoney baloney, plastic banana, good time rock-n-roll"
So have care with what's accepted and what 'everybody knows'
Observe and make your own judgement; don't fear majority to oppose
Be an 'Enemy of the people' * if that's where integrity leads; don't condole
"P B P B G T R & R"
[The PBPBGTR&R refrain in these verses was inspired by the great Rush Limbaugh who tickled my auditory synapses with its use.]
* Ref. Ibsen play
Eluding My Ressurection
Eluding the proposition of more work to be done
Prelude to the inquisition that is blocking out the sun
I can only conclude that the ammunition was hard fought and won
While the interlude for the intermission has only just begun
Statutory situations from behind a judges bench presiding
Defamatory imitations that aren’t worth justifying
Auditory insinuations that see a person testifying
Crematory conflagrations that are somewhat death defying
Intercontinental ballistic missiles heading for a major city
Coincidental trajectories on the inside that are the opposite of pretty
Environmental projectiles that leave humans loitering in complicity
Developmental officials that stunt the growth of those without pity
Acrimonious altercations that leave you shocked and stunned
Parsimonious purification that has men reaching for their guns
Disharmonious communications that make you feel inclined to run
Sanctimonious salutations that remove the laughter from the fun
Aberrations of contemplations that leave my thinking incomplete
Abdications of compensations that keep you working on your feet
Complications of innovations that seem to be headed for defeat
Combinations of annotations that keep your words strong enough to compete
Augmentation of technological conversations altered for their privilege and stature
Conflagrations of mythological consternations that have people waiting for the rapture
Insinuations of psychological manifestations that make you feel like you are captured
Constellations of astronomical configurations that engender awe and enrapture
I’m hoping that the tides will flow in favour of my direction
While eloping from the slides that show my wanting predilection
For downward sloping motions that grow upward in their redirection
As they live while coping in the know of my resurrection
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz