Long Entwine Poems
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As the gatekeeper of both time and space,
surfing the bardo that lies in between
aether and form, wherefrom radiates grace,
existence reveals its throbbing bliss sheen.
Singular Self has an urge to create
a domain where ascent follows descent,
that by piercing the veil, soul shapes its fate,
requiring simply, to grant love consent.
This choiceless choice to ingrain deep learning,
that emerging from the cocoon of bliss,
soul may ascend by willingly burning,
it opts to plunge into a dark abyss.
The stage is set for the soul to forget,
that love may grow, placing on love a bet.
That love may grow, placing on love a bet,
appears on first glance, there’s nothing to do
but memory erased, caught in fear’s net,
the soul finds it difficult to break through.
Mistaken that it’s merely body-mind,
soul’s awareness becomes externalised
and bemused by illusions, it is blind
and thus truth of Self is not realised.
Having itself set life into motion,
joy of union, pangs of separation,
silence alone ends thought flow commotion,
invoking Spirit for bliss gyration.
In timeless time, the bliss energised form,
swathed in gentle currents, both cool and warm.
Swathed in gentle currents, both cool and warm,
earth life interface, the ego, recedes,
transmuted finally by this love storm,
whereupon it follows and bliss throb leads.
Cessation by kenosis is the way,
softening attention, with touch gentle,
ego cravings no longer holding sway,
that soul effusing love transcendental.
Love being the pure divine elixir,
all opposites dissolve within its womb,
causing nodes within feeble form to stir,
bringing to life thus, a bliss catacomb.
Ego takes a backseat, heart is upbeat,
light dawns when polarities meet and greet.
Light dawns when polarities meet and greet,
melding in the cauldron of agape love,
wherein heeding love’s pure endearing tweet,
head and heart conjoin, acting hand in glove.
On soul seeing that it is living light,
it begins to employ mind of the heart,
feeling bliss pulsations by day and night,
deeming all souls as one and none apart.
Separation ends when egoic will bends
and all beings on earth, with love entwine,
each soul as God’s essence, slowly ascends,
all gathering under the oneness sign.
Self knows that there are no puzzles to lace,
as the gatekeeper of both time and space.
~ Oh, maiden of light cracks the wispy air open ,
wandering around viscous spaces
like virgin shadow caressing the edge
of sleep… and the days stretch longer,
taller than guava trees dreamingly shedding
laces of northeast streams when
songbirds, orbits, and a pageant of flowers listen
to a single humming breeze… and when all else
is sprawled quiet, waterfalls marry her certain
lingering star straying on mouths of gentleness
past eons bound by nuptials in iridescent realms…
*O, ilaw, sa gabing malamig, wangis mo'y
bituin sa langit… O, tanglaw, sa gabing tahimik,
larawan mo, Neneng, nagbigay pasakit. Ay! *
Somehow ,curlicues drape a fragrant smoke
leaking out a folk sky; dancing in the mirror
of the mountain pool… a serenade weeps;
quivering, moaning along the inland pass that
someone said morning becomes electra,
that learning how to hear her blossom or
pearl stone unravels the very skin from
which it was born is allowing time to
shed her purity far beyond unknowing a
water’s need to keep still: the juice spills…
**Gising at magbangon sa pagkagupiling
sa pagkakatulog na lubhang mahimbing;
buksan ang bintana at ako'y dungawin,
nang mapagtanto mo ang tunay kong pagdaing. * *
Peeling new faces of time, shaping the width of
endless rhyme in sprays of endless mystery...
like so, a thousand times before and after,
twilight and daybreak entwine… oh,light elusive,
passing through calm eyes of young maiden’s season
is love’s way of coming back to itself. ~
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* O, light, in the cold night; you're like a star in the sky
O, light, in the quiet night, your picture, Neneng,
makes one ache…. Oh!
** Awake and arise from slumber,
from your sleep so deep.
Open your window and look out to me
So that you may understand my true lament.
~ this poem is inspired by a harana, a traditional Filipino serenade. The suitor
is accompanied by his friends who back him up both vocally.
At first, the woman's window is closed. The man calls out to her
and if she's interested, she'll open her window.
Singing harana originated during the Spanish
colonial period in the Philippines.~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYueJU0Ufws&feature=related
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For Debbie’s Bi-lingual Poetry by nette onclaud
Under the delicate veil of reality, unseen worlds weave webs of mystery,
There, beneath the clear surface, lie extinguished universes, full of hidden stories.
I floated like a child in a dream, feeling the call of these distant realms,
With no proof in hand, just a deep premonition that magic and mystery walk hand in hand.
In the blue sky and the scent of flowers, there are mirrors of hidden goodness,
But in the same breath mingles a wild force, a pain that kisses the edge of being.
Every petal that unfolds under the sun hides a shadow of old, forgotten times,
A dance of secret degradation, painting the world in hues of melancholy.
Under the starry mantle of enchanted nights, when the stars pour into unknown waters,
We feel the echo of another existence, a deep murmur that disturbs our peace.
And thus, in every blooming flower, in every dream that takes flight,
Light and darkness mix, writing an unwritten story of an unseen destiny.
Our lives are symptoms of an ancient spell, a dance of shadows and light,
Where beauty and suffering entwine in a world of shimmering metaphors.
We are but travelers through these constellations hidden beneath the daily venom,
Wandering through worlds of curves and extinguished fires, seeking a revived dawn.
Our eyes are gates to those parallel universes,
Where every moment of joy is shadowed by a tear of eternity.
We are born from stars, but carry within us the ashes of extinguished galaxies,
And in the infinite waltz, we laugh and cry, gathering star memories in unknown hearts.
So, when we gaze at the sky, the blooming, and hear the silence of enchanted nights,
Let us know that beneath every heartbeat lies a flicker of unseen sadness,
That beauty and pain are two mirrored skies,
And only by accepting this dual symphony can we understand the deep magic of life.
In temples forgotten by time, in rivers singing old ballads,
We find echoes of those deep realms, where light and shadow dance together,
And thus, in every moment of life, in every childhood dream,
We learn that magic hides precisely in this ethereal duality.
Let us live, then, with hearts open to both beauty and pain,
To seek those secret worlds beyond the daily veil,
And to breathe their magic, letting our hearts sing,
Even when the echoes of pain whisper their old secrets under enchanted skies.
In the silent corridors of the cosmos,
where whispers of ancient wisdom entwine with stardust,
lies a realm unseen by the mortal eye,
where truths, pure and untainted, float like ethereal whispers.
Literal thinking, a shadow upon the sacred light,
turns the divine into chains of superstition,
crystal-clear waters of wisdom, now murky and confined,
where once the spirit soared, now tethered and bereft.
In the twilight of understanding, where shadows breathe,
a journey begins, a river of consciousness unbound,
flowing through the valleys of forgotten lore,
where the heart's whispers are the compass true,
guiding the soul through labyrinths of light and dark.
In the dawn of creation, where the first light kissed the void,
truths whispered by the divine, gentle as morning dew,
were pure as the first breath of dawn, untainted by man's hand,
yet as they touched the soil of mortal minds,
they hardened into idols, rigid and cold,
sculpted by the chisel of literal thought.
Metaphors, the language of the soul,
once vibrant and alive, now dulled by concrete minds,
where the moon's gentle glow becomes a sterile sphere,
and the sun, no longer a celestial flame, but a mere star.
In the silent temple of the heart, where shadows and light dance,
a candle flickers, fed by the breath of the divine,
its flame a guide against the encroaching dark,
where superstition lurks, a specter in the mind.
The inspired truths are rivers, flowing free,
unbound by the dams of dogma's cold embrace,
seeking the vast ocean, the infinite expanse,
where the spirit merges with the cosmic dance,
and wisdom's light shines in every drop of time.
Oh, to break the chains of literal thought,
to see the world through the eyes of the soul,
where every leaf whispers the secrets of the cosmos,
and every star sings the songs of eternity.
In this sacred dance, where metaphor reigns supreme,
the heart finds its voice, the spirit its wings,
and the truths once perverted by the concrete mind,
become again the living breath of the divine.
So let us journey, with hearts unbound,
through the mystic realms where wisdom dwells,
and find in the dance of shadows and light,
the inspired truths that set the spirit free,
in the sacred whispers of the cosmos’s embrace,
where the eternal song of truth and love forever resounds.
Ink flows like a river, a poet's soul on fire
A maze of words, where emotions unfold like a desire
Each line a path, a winding road that beckons me
To the heart of the abode, where secrets wait to be free
Fragments of self, embedded deep, like a treasure unspoken
A reflection of the heart that beats and seeps with every line
A dance of words, that weaves a tapestry of heartache and design
A kaleidoscope of pain, a symphony of feelings that entwine
The poet's emotion, like a river's flow, ebbs and grows
Through every line, a symphony of feelings, as the heart overflows
A reflection of the soul, where emotions forever align
A dance of words, that whispers secrets, like a heart that's divine
Most readers glance and pass, blind to the heart's design
They fail to see, the emotion that will last, like a love that's sublime
They read the lines, but don't feel the weight of every word
Of each word's power, that the poet conveys, like a heart that's unheard
For empathy is key, to truly understand the poet's heart
To feel the pulse, of each word's design, a work of art
To be immersed, in the poet's emotional shrine
Where emotions flow, like a river's stream, forever divine
A true poet gets lost in the lines they create
In the labyrinth of words, their heart does await, like a love that's great
For in each phrase, a piece of them resides, like a heart that beats
A reflection of their soul, where emotions forever meet
They pour their heart, into every single word, like a love that's true
A symphony of feelings, that are forever heard, like a heart that's anew
Their emotions flow, like a never-ending stream, like a love that's free
A tidal wave of passion, that crashes on the dream, wild and carefree
In the silence of the night, they find their heart's voice
A whispered truth, that echoes with every choice
Their emotions raw, their feelings exposed, like a heart that's laid bare
A poet's vulnerability, that most people have disposed, like a love that's not there
In the labyrinth of lines, they find solace and peace, like a heart that's at rest
A refuge from the world, where their heart can release, like a love that's blessed
Their emotions flow, like a river's stream, like a heart that's free
A poet's catharsis, that's the heart's esteem, like a love that's meant to be
Part Three of Ancient doubles poems
(5.)
Tonight The Heavens Sing A Melody
Bright heavens are sewing new stars tonight
While earth churns its deep seas and pauses not
Sleep the children, all tucked in so tight
We thank God for life and our humble lot.
The wandering moon its beams freely sends
The sky broadens to gift its golden rays
Nature its great beautiful bounty tends
Light streams down as night critters are at play.
The wafting breeze its dancing waltz bestirs
As gentle hours caress this lonely heart
Once these long sadden years cast a dark blur
Until this night refused a new start.
Tonight the Heavens sing a Melody.
Of Love, Life and Blissful Eternity.
R.J. Lindley, Dec. 15th 1978
Sonnet
******
(6.)
After Love Lost Its Bright Vanishing Light
Now when the dew glitters the ground
I remember your eyes and weep,
My brain aches my sad heart hard pounds
I pray ceaselessly in my sleep
Nay- not for the beauty so lost
You made the heavens again shine
While I became the dying frost,
And on agony sat to dine.
Soon the play ends, the curtain falls
Yet this brief moment we still see
From the grieving seas your heart calls
To I that prays on bended knees
My angel, my darling- my all
Pray I, your hear this sincere plea.
With you here and our life anew
Paradise will our souls entwine
For me, there exists none but you
We both drank passion's sweetest wine
Dawn, I wake and morn's echoes bring
Memory of our midnight kiss
I see your face, my angel sings
Tears fall, for the love I so miss.
R. J. Lindley, Dec. 5th 1978
Rhyme, ( Memory Of A Love That Vanished )
Note: This is the third and final offering
of ancient poetic doubles. Poems composed
42 years ago when I was a very young
24 years old. Still untarnished in my innocence
in regards to the dark ways of the wicked world.
I was learning even then about heartache,
misery and how many aches and pains and
sorrows can come upon a lost soul. One as
yet ready to seek the much needed light.
A poet that wrote and wrote =yet kept it
hidden. Life went on- I changed and now
regret not pursuing a career as a writer.
Paths not chosen, life is full of them and
the--what ifs-- that they bring.
God bless, Merry Christmas to all the
many kind talented and wonderful poets
here!
A gentle rainfall, of emotions,
whispered by the sea.
The stage aligned as her gaze meets mine,
a golden treasure to me.
A cave of solitude,
she will find me, for a spell
she will bind to me,
nestle to-of warm by and by a sea shore in a shell.
She is my nemesis, of a God scourned, my eternal punishment burn.
So on and on, we chase, of my yearn- her
strange land to taste,
my wasteland, ruin,
gemscaped, sojourned continuum.
By lapping tractor beams, dressed in the private
night of exclusivity, gown of huntress
to preying emnity key of the unknown,
scale of medusa, justice,
raptors of Valkyri, dawning crown,
of day, rays
of proximity to speak in unimpede, as she may,
mongrel fish as she please.
I am for her, and she freely shines for me.
She is a revelation- as shadows play-peek aboo
behind the scenes, Lyred puppetry
spread upon the wall,
looking back in grin and thrall,
she does not recede, in fact not at all.
Time, she bends, over and overture,
draping like a bowed music, seed of heaven,
caricature of my completeness,
seven times seven.
In the theater of twilight, where whispers entwine,
a tapestry of emotion, your heart meets mine.
As gentle rains murmur their secrets to seas,
in our silent impediment,
dance on the edge of eternity’s ease, of we.
Your gaze, a constellation, draws me in tight,
while lapping waves beckon, a soft, secret, contrite.
Dressed in the velvet of night’s soft embrace,
the dawn conspires your beauty, in a luminous grace.
For in this moment, I am wholly for you,
the sun it is in your laughter, the stars in your view.
You are a revelation, a canvas where I am rushed anew,
with shadows that frolic, and dreams brushed through.
Lyred puppetry sways, casting stories so grand,
and the walls of our hearts weave a world,
grand halls, a throne at hand in hand.
Time, a silken thread, weaves its opulent spell,
as the music of longing in mind like a siren's wail.
Here in this dreamscape, surrender your fears,
in the soft glow of day, intrigues the old seers.
As the cloak of the inevitable draws me close,
and the moment does ring,
does yoke,
know forever, my dear, you are my everything,
with rhyme, but not a slight, jest or joke.
POTD 19 September 2017
Apprehensively I tramp with my lamp - through a path shrouded in gloom
Silvery shafts of light entwine and fight through foliage as they creep
Gnarled branches twist as I resist their sinister outstretched grabbing reach
With a hushed bated breath I move in stealth - to allow the restless spirits sleep
I have heard and have feared the ancient Mystical stories that are told
Of a fabled cave of age where these immortal spirits abide
A sacred and elated reverie this questing soul with them seeks
To allow ‘The Oracles’ now - to show where my elusive love hides
I have heard it expressed in a blessed rapturous appellation
This glowing love from above that eludes this restless yearning child
A bliss infused kiss that Celestial Beings have been heard to applaud
A connection of perfection that would make Heaven look down and smile
In my quest to find the nest of undying unconditional love
I search alone to find my throne in the mighty caverns of the sphere
May the spirits guide until I find my bride in barren breaths of cold
And now I see in this mystic cavity an apparition does appear
In a gentle voice I do rejoice and hold captive in their chambers
My son are you the one seeking lasting love in our golden grotto
I say yes and will you bless my jaded journey thus far I have made
We’re beings of infinity descending divinity as above so below
I fall to my knees as they say with ease - Feel the vibes of the stone
Before you embark look within your heart - Love explodes there and beyond
I shed a tear with a cavernous cheer and find where I have failed
My soul anew now I'm due for my love to be Spiritually spawned
Acknowledgement from Maria (Down Under) -
To my very dear friend and Poet Extraordinaire`-The illustrious (((Winged Warrior)), for producing this collaboration together with me. It is no surprise at the effortless speed of this production - virtually overnight (because of the time difference), and then another night with the sprucing up. It was good fun and we must do it again WW.
POTD 19 September 2017
Music by Yakuro – ‘Through The Galaxy’ - Published on Mar 22, 2016
Copyright – Maria Williams and Winged Warrior – September 2017
Gazing, at its own reflection is the Magpie.
A magic bird, a mystical creature, with a soul
and the power to see things, the power of scrying.
It sees a tomb in ancient Egypt. It sees death.
A soul locked within a glorious bronze mirror,
Cleopatra and her Maid in a bond unbroken.
Time passes in silence as deep as the unbroken
promise of endless wisdom, gifted by the Magpie.
whose caws the Maid hears, within the depths of the mirror,
calls to the Queen, her Cleopatra, to her soul.
Magpie speaks to She on the Eastern Barge in the afterlife of death,
and to her Maid entombed. The sacred bird so near scrys.
The Magpie sits within oasis staring into the pool. It scrys
for all this time, its vigil, its protection, never broken.
Even when the sarcophagus is carried to the necropolis of the dead,
without, unknown, the bird speaks wisely through reflection, her Magpie.
Entombed, his Queen and her Maid, their bodies but not their souls,
Queen, Maid and Magpie, each cast a last gaze, alive within the mirror.
The Vows of Innocence, the Maid bespeaks the mirror.
Pleas to the Swallower of Shades, both Queen and Maid have scried
to The Burning One, and claim no lie, upon their soul.
As the light dims within the Maids eyes, in tomb unbroken,
she sees the life of her Queen and their Magpie
pass fast upon the brass, last breath of life and dying.
Oh, too soon the end, moans the Maid, I am dying.
Her life's reflection moves bronzed upon the mirror.
She screams, "My Queen," but hears only the caw of Magpie.
All around her other servants succumb and cry, whilst she sits scrying,
and the Magpie flies above in life entombed, eternity, unbroken.
As she beseeches all the Gods to save her soul.
The Magpie's spirit self moves within the mirror's soul.
He swoops gathering Cleopatra's essence, past the dying,
and brings her to the Maids side unbroken.
In afterlife upon the Eastern Barge they join the mirrored
whole, for he, the bird of magic, Magpie, has called and scried
it so. Part light of life, part dark of death, the Magpie.
The essence of each entwine united within this eternal mirror
for the Magpie cannot bear their deaths. He will protect and forever scry
in life the mirror sits unbroken a stolen bauble, and in it they dwell with the Magpie.
There’s an old river course with beginning and end,
now the river runs straight without this river bend,
where the water is still and the reeds do grow strong.
New life has taken over in a billabong.
The mat rush is spreading replacing the sedge,
and old fallen gum trees lean in from the edge
creating a haven in the shelter below
for smelt or gudgeon, and the common minnow.
There’s a ring on the water, so danger is nigh,
and life is now over for one caddis fly.
Dragonflies hover on their predator flight,
so mosquito and midges best keep out of sight.
There is many a song around a billabong
to break up the still with an assembly throng
from birds of the forest, and wading birds too,
so the billabong offer is there to pursue...
... for blue heron and egret, coot and the teal,
and for the banded rail that the bulrush conceal.
In the billabong shadowed by gum and ti-tree,
bellbirds are tinkling; wattlebirds disagree.
An oft-diving grebe keeps on searching for food
for the striped downy chicks of its latest brood,
and a hunting kingfisher waits keen for its prey
from a twig of a gum tree it frequents all day.
There is many a scent around a billabong,
filling the air with the perfume quite strong,
from black wattle and mint bush, or mistletoe
cascading from gum trees where only they grow.
Painted lady butterfly flit upon flowers,
and blue banded bees keep on working for hours
on lilies and orchids, heath, sweet appleberry
and clusters of flowers on a native cherry.
Ribbon weed, nardoo spread out in the shallow,
with buttercup, duckweed; an introduced mallow,
struggling for survival near the water line,
aiding coral pea that does lightly entwine.
The banks of a billabong are dangerous too
with predator snakes not so often in view,
but they are aware, that the growling grass frog
will climb from the water onto an old log.
But tigers and copperhead, red-bellied black
often lay in the sun on an overgrown track,
where the wombat or wallaby travel along
to graze on native grasses near the billabong.
So life still carries on around the billabong
where water looks stagnant, a bond is still strong
with a river now rushing it’s way to the sea,
past the billabong living, where the course used to be.