Long Dualities Poems
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GHOST MIRRORS
Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
A sudden shimmering, in the beguiling mirror of illusions,
As in the icy eerie chill of this frozen man made pool of
Optical delusions, something within shifted and moved!
Disembodiment's outcasts to incisions resistance, cut at
The bitter edge of the graves stone marker, are these
Silhouette shadow beings, trapped within clarities maze
Of solid crystal!
Black sheets haunted, hidden behind the spiritual mirrors
Of religion, encasement's prison of soulless mists, a vaporous
Cage without iron bars, nor steels reinforcement, these are
The lost or damnation's cursed unto the light of salvation!
What skeletal keys can unlock these dimensional doorway,
And just where is the keyhole to fit, this illusionary anomaly?
At the shutters sudden flash, in ethereal creature slides
Across the screen of realities review mirror, a dark
Hauntings presence that alluding the neck eyes detection!
A dead man’s situation lies exposed, by the elemental
Reflection of lights retraction, hidden beneath the graveyards
Bones of the unsolved murder!
Within the winds of the whistling breeze, hear the unruffled
Cries of fates lost children, crying out for justices guiding
Light to save them, from the disembodied hands of their
Tormentors!
Running children of the ethereal night, whom rage in
Vengeance, against the glass prism of shattered light,
Weeping in devastation's despair, for their loss of life eternal!
At the flashing neon point of no return, the devils forsaken
Sake at the tempered glass of realism, clamoring to be
Recognized for once existing!
Within the four squared frame of reality, dwells the
Infinite pool of the ethereal realm, and in its rippling
Waves, phantom faces are shone in the tormented poises
Of the after life’s jail cell, without the possibility of
Paroles final tender mercy!
Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
BEWARE THE MONTH OF HALLOWEEN IS COMING
Caught in the snares of a night divided between the sacred and the profane,
where the stars seem to whisper forgotten secrets, I find myself in search of truth,
on a journey that parts the veil of self-knowledge,
where every tear of light, every shadow
reveals fragments of an esoteric existence, woven from fragile hopes and deep doubts.
Religion, like Freud, bears the burden of a difficult mission,
like a torch that illuminates the abyss of our fear of self-awareness,
for self-knowledge is man's hardest task,
a risk of revealing how his self-esteem was built
on the power of others, in an effort to deny his own creatureliness and mortality.
Character is the vital lie, a veil that conceals
the painful ambiguities of our likeness to worms,
as well as the divinity incarnate in our being,
and people deny both their creatureliness and their divinity,
to live peacefully in the world, fattened by illusion and comfort.
My stream of thoughts flows like an underground river,
where every idea is a wave that digs deep into the banks of consciousness,
and I get lost in the labyrinth of questions, where every answer
is a riddle that exposes how fragile man is,
a creature warring with its own destiny, rejecting the truth
of creatures and gods in the vast dispersion of existence.
On the land of this night, where moonlight filters through leaves
like an elixir of delusion, I find myself seeking meaning
in a world that will dissolve into its own paradoxes,
in a perpetual struggle between denying fragility and desiring transcendence,
a battle between dualities, where each victory brings a new burden,
and in every defeat, a growth.
This painful ambiguity is man's path,
a road paved with shattered dreams and divine aspirations,
where every step is a tribute paid to the illusion
of being more than a mere creature,
and less than an omnipotent god,
watch as every breath is an ephemeral dance
between the fear of the unknown and the desire to soar.
In a world abandoned by certainties,
where truths are but rejected shadows,
I begin to understand that our only refuge
is to embrace complexity,
to accept ourselves as both trivial and divine
walking on the edge of eternity, where illusion becomes the safety net
in a vile universe, full of fallen stars and dreams lost in the silence of the night.
1
Last night dinner
with four couples
points out the difficulties in living together
and apart.
Even the
son of a wealthy doctor, disdainful of
inebriates more artificial than the moon,
full, full of joy for humanity
and life
suffers deepening depressions
like the mist outside a lamplight.
It was a good restaurant
expensive but comfortable
in the alternate life-style way
the cook was a hairy
talented clown
and we clowned though beneath each
facade
was turmoil and decay.
We lay
beside each other like bones
in a boneyard
and find joy (I do anyway)
in the bone dance
to bone music.
2
Without a thought for slash fuel
or deer, the mist
deepens and deteriorates upon
the mountain. The mountain
completely unaware
of its greenness. The ice
is centuries old.
A red-tailed hawk
floats above the unit
observes what small mammals, birds
are in the clearcut
Awaits
the moment
to strike
or fades away almost
silent as the mist. I dream
of it, though I am awake
among my co-workers, the bullet
system zinging cut logs down
to the road, bones.
3
Pardon
me you mountains
for coming to the edge
without mystical knowledge
or belief, only love and wrinkled
eyes for the women and men who
light the fires and wield the chain saws,
drive the cat, swing the ax, I
completely laugh among them like a god
yes, although my face is a mask of hate
and pain, what god does not come to this field
of flowers out of fear and confusion and chains
product of the hot anvil and hot engine
of human history.
This duality, these bone-breaking dualities
this volcanic eruption erupting from some
confluence of beheaded forces, one
powerful with eternity, one
blinding with intensity, meet
and in the middle is me.
It’s slicker'n two wet snots out there today,
my crew boss warns.
Life bests my best synthesis of it
so I begin to pray
for a happy combination
of sun and mist.
It is the unsettling feeling of uneasiness, the unseen
Presence that quickens your pulse rate, are you being
Watched, what lies in the darkened hallows of the
Black shadows?
Why does the whispering wind scream beware, into
My inner ears consciousness, making the blood
Within mine veins run icy cold, light to the touch
Invisible finger tips brush against my bare exposed
Neck, yet no one is there, just the chill in the night’s air.
Then in the hushed silence every sound stops dead,
There is absolutely no breeze, nature seems frozen in
A complete quite stasis freeze of stillness, a rigidity
I’ve never experienced before.
I’m a human statue paralyzed in place, motionless
Just waiting for something to happen, should I
Flee or stay, my mind races with a stood cold’s
Adrenaline's rush, but for God’s sake I’m completely
Unable to move!
What is the definition of reality, as the lights
Flickering, and my four walls of living shelter
Shudder, I’m forced to question sanity vs.
Insanity, thin grows the line of realism!
Dualities cabinet doors swing wide open,
As the plates of life’s routine smash, against
The walls of ethereal existence.
A trickster’s spirit is this wild raw force, of angers
Power unleashed, this poltergeist whom lashes
Out me, from his deadly zones terrorizing abyss.
In fears screaming, I yell what do you want
From me, and It responds in a terrifying
Voice, Get out this is my house!
In a flashes rude awaking, the spell of motionlessness,
Is broken, the captive hostage is released, I’m free
At last to run, and I do so without questioning’s
Reasoning, never to look back, never to challenge
My decision, for it is his house, this poltergeist,
May he dwell in his own living hell forever?
Do you not believe my story, for I care not?
For I’m sound in both mind and of body,
Once a none believer now a born again
Spiritual being, who realizes the other side
Does exist, and it has touched my life
With voracitie's true evil.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
FAMILY. LOVE. EQUILIBRIUM
A pivotal point In this transformational journey
Life is all about family and love.
Art of seeing both sides ~ An invitation of dance
“The Way of the Tao” is neither:
pleasure or pain
disconsonant or resolution
positive or negative
praise or blame
forgive or condemn
evolution or extinction
win or lose
benefit or obstacle
infatuation or resentment
kindness or cruelty
Life is all about family and love - equanimity
Every external event mirrors an internal aspect of oneself Neutralize polarities of elevate or diminish oneself
There are no mistakes
I am honored to experience:
‘lack of attention’
‘Sacrifice of the lamp’
‘Abandoned child’
These events serve to teach me to grow in love
See the seer, the process of seeing, and the seen are all identical
Life is all about family and love.
No one is exempt from the twists and turns of fate
‘Silent voice in a small Pacific island’
‘A blissful life in The Land of the Free at age of 14’
‘Complete Independence in The Land of Opportunity since 1992’
Perception shapes reality
Embracing dualities
Life is all about family and love – equilibrium.
The Mind's Labyrinth
In the quiet chambers of thought,
Where neurons weave their intricate dance,
Lies the mind—a labyrinth of wonder,
A cosmic tapestry spun by chance.
I. Echoes of Memory
Memories echo through its corridors,
Whispers of laughter, tears, and longing.
Faces etched in sepia hues,
Moments frozen, forever belonging.
II. Dreams Unfurl
Dreams unfurl like fragile paper boats,
Sailing across the cerebral sea.
They dance with stardust and moonbeams,
Guided by the compass of possibility.
III. Shadows and Light
Within, shadows wrestle with light,
Dualities waltzing in twilight's embrace.
Fear and courage, love and doubt,
Painting chiaroscuro strokes on grace.
IV. Secret Gardens
Hidden gardens bloom—a riot of thoughts,
Where ideas sprout like wildflowers.
Philosophers, poets, and madmen wander,
Seeking truth beneath celestial towers.
V. The Muse's Whispers
The muse tiptoes along synapses,
Her breath igniting neurons' fire.
She whispers sonnets to sleeping minds,
Weaving verses from cosmic lyre.
VI. The Abyss Beckons
Yet deeper lies an abyss, uncharted,
Where sanity teeters on the edge.
Madness and genius dance a tango,
Their footsteps echoing through time's hedge.
VII. The Mind's Constellations
Stars align within this cerebral sky,
Constellations of hope and despair.
Each thought a comet streaking forth,
Leaving trails of wonder in the air.
And so, dear seeker, delve within,
Navigate this labyrinth of gray matter.
For the mind is both map and voyage,
A universe waiting to shatter and scatter.
Poet’s Note : Robertson & Ashton are two small wine producing towns in the Karoo of South Africa. Robertson is known as the Town of Roses & Wine because it is exceedingly beautiful, yet the wealth discrepancies between the farm owners & their workers remain vast, even to this day. I worked on a small fruit farm in Robertson managing a guesthouse & witnessed extreme dualities between rich & poor.
BAREFOOT BROWN KIDDIES
The road from a town of Roses and Wine to
its little sister Ashton is littered with brown
barefoot kiddies eating Niknaks
Pappas remain addicted to
Lieberstein
Mamas continue to slave in guest houses
blond boss ladies do their hair or
paint nails purple
a Makarov and it’s bullets are
memories in the
Dust of Fate
Robertson farms remain
governed by pale
males
Ashton fields despondent in colonial
clutches of wealth
they continue to concoct
“Best Reds in the World”
some drink that new bourgeoisie refine
their taste buds with when struggle
days are long gone
nonchalant barefoot brown
kiddies run annual races from
Ashton to Robertson
ignorant of good
food or any vote
achieved
Neither am I happy or sad
©GhairoDanielsPoetry
2011
If a poem or essay can end with a conclusion or its opposite, either one,
Can it be of any use to anyone?
Do the discrepancies and disparities, dualities and densities, reflect only
the dementia
Of the bearer of the pencil?
First entertain, then enlighten if you can. One stretches truth in order to
pretend,
Another leavens with levity one’s inevitable end.
Most days it's not possible to bring your life into an expressible state.
Disparate hopes, arduous chores, word choices. And, of course, the
state of the state.
Driven by ideas rather than rhymes, for it is not metres, but a
metre-making argument,
That makes a poem. Convenience store or university English
department
The day's disputes, down to the meaning of the weather, leave you
indisposed
To share your heart of zero and your inner rose.
It is the strong force, the energy of the loved ones combined with
cooperation for good or war.
Dad's years in New Guinea fighting Japs, he said, were his best by far.
The best that can be said or done is Be where you are. Love the one
you're with
Not necessarily an adult of the opposite sex, perhaps just a kid who
hates math
And school, dresses goth, reads rarely but learns a lot from movies and
YouTube,
Has the presence of mind to say I am who I am, deal with it. That's who
I want to be
And have always been. Today clean the house, again. Woke up this
morning to two thoughts:
How sweet to be alive! Life is tough.
"""""""""""'""""""""'
say what? gibberish jabber and jive
thrown off by that name design
i’ll pause for hee-larious devilish crime,
just this once, yo!
befriending puzzled game of who i am
roarrr! gotta hang loose and chillax...
click the clock and go with moment’s groove
if i hear some laughs, i’ll con you with slum stuff
for now, i ain’t your momma’s sweet thing
to give what’s due, let your green bucks talk
my tricky demons have been impatient,
now let that flat tire settle you.
this rhythm spins for bad, bad girl i’ve never been...
drums roll for a con girl… i’m ready for bullying
spinnin out scum and knowing i spit the shots
sleeky me, too not quick to catch
upside down and underground,
brace yourself or turn around. if you do please,
keep your smarts… street life is my major major punk
i’m callin last call, and all of you, hear this...
it’s time to bail out and bounce up,
live beyond lucid dreams and spark your plug
far beyond the images we see, there are split
mirror- dualities of what seem to be… see, i fancied
the title “Candle Net Out” also known as
nette on the clouds…too pretty and normal,
i’m experimental,
let me shock you from inside out…
just for today, it’s wickedly freaky showtime!
all rights reserved
©
*twisted because this was the teenage side of me
that wanted to rebel..but just did it half- way through!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
PD's Any Twisted Poem
by: nette onclaud
Life is a saga of dualities,
No one is perfectly happy here
Everyone lacks something or other
All have some problems or other
Rich, famous, healthy all are unhappy!
Why is no one at peace?
That is because earth is a place of sinners.
All those who sin in heaven are send here as punishment
We are given thinking capacity and free will so that in the end we may achieve salvation
But if we misuse both our sins increase and punishment too
We are all hopelessly struck up!
We know it all yet act as if unaware
That is the play of God.
The day he wants us out he will remove the veil and we will be liberated
We will go back to our own land and stay till we sin again
No use talking big, advising people.
If God wants he will make us smile in miseries
Otherwise he will make us cry for stupid things
That’s life.
We are totally powerless except in small part, our free will.
If we listen to our conscience and do not further increase our sin
we may get out of here faster
No one is good, no one bad
Nothing right! Nothing wrong!
98% is as per god’s wish.
Life is best endured with acceptance.
No point trying to change others or circumstances.
Nothing will happen until God wishes.
Don’t think too much
Take it easy.
After all it is temporary.
_______________________________________________________________________
10th March 2021
Inspired by
Contest Name : Life At A Glance
Sponsor : Mystic Rose Rose