Long Extinguishing Poems
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I combed through the sand mirrors,
removing them all.
Wildland was centered on a horde of foes.
I appeared on the seashore,
as a result of a tsunami.
From the ramifications of a waterway.
I've been looking forward to the coming days.
You were also the most skilled craftsman.
I walked across the breeze,
scaffolding to the apex.
The length of his lashes had an impact on him.
I've wished for days that would never come.
As a painter, you were unbeatable
Looking up, I was able to,
overcome the breeze connection.
He shortened his lashes,
to the length of a chestnut's.
What are you hoping to achieve?
You're extinguishing your vigor.
Written: August 24, 2021
Depression vol 13 ~ Loveless
How dull I feel, writing of the same
eternal misery like all those before me;
All my fellow poets, or the regretful
artists lyrics, that forever seem to plea,
As fickle as a coin toss, as
rare as the solar eclipse,
If you happen to lose, the
agony as brutal as warships,
Still no matter the price, I still yearn
desperately to gain the magic promised in this prize,
However, I can't help but doubt that
its all nothing but naively held lies,
The concoction of soul mates and love
at first sight; just whimsical, misplaced hope,
Still wishing of knights in armour,
whilst modern men just cuss and grope,
Such an alien concept, watching all the
connections others seem to effortlessly make,
Maybe I should be grateful my delicate
soul doesn't dare risk this stake,
Yet, feeling the even slightest of
butterflies, it instantly quells my nihilism,
Ignorantly forgetting disastrous past
attempts, the causality to my cynicism,
But reality eventually always kicks in,
brutally extinguishing my daydreams,
Reconfirming this simply will never be,
slipping me between the two extremes,
Either miserably longing for
the simplest of attention,
Or drowning in loneliness,
isolated like in permanent detention,
Forced to absorb the suffocating
joy paraded around by other couples,
Knowing for me this shall never be,
bitterly unclenching my knuckles,
Like my demons would ever allow
me true happiness to ever take place,
As if I would ever be ahead,
in this or any other rigged race,
Maybe I'm just never to understand
the complex torture that is romance,
Doomed to continously be
discounted at any first glance,
Turning stupidly, jaded with envy,
I still attempt to appear remorseful,
Hearing friends petty quarrels,
trying not to be too forceful,
I guess it shall remain an unsolved mystery,
whether I will ever grasp it,
Leaving the question for my psychic,
but doubting I shall ever ask it,
Trying my best to wish all those
happy partners well in their peaceful bliss,
But just attempting to forget the
trauma of my dreadful first ever kiss,
Wondering if I can find meaning in
my life without this missing part,
Striving to find contentment,
even with the gaping hole in my heart.
By the dead pan look in your beautiful eyes and the disparity of your smile
I should have guessed that the ending of a fantastical journey,
was coming to a close end;
I dreamed of babies, white picket fences, and rippling laughter
kitchen whispers, between bites of toast and honey
so many places I envisioned with you,
yet none of them will not come true now that you decided
you needed someone new.
I should have seen it coming, the stars extinguishing their light
the sun closing shop and slowly fading out of sight
I should have known a a younger me would soon be
holding you;
by the way you packed your bags and walked out the back door
I should have known you weren't the one,
who would lift me off the floor.
January 31 2023
“is life an illusion?” ...
As a young kid, loved the magical illusion...
With every flick of the hand, a world unfolds,
Mysteries hidden in stories told,
Where wonder reigns and logic defies,
In the heart of magic, the illusion lies.
As a grown-up kid, illusion took over thoughts ....
In a world where wands weave dreams so bright,
Illusions dance in shadows, taking flight,
With whispered spells and secrets to unfold,
Magic's embrace reveals the tales untold.
As an adult, chased illusion every day ....
As a mature adult, realities started to sink in.....
A moonbeam drips across my shadow—
a silver tear on the canvas of night,
yet it trembles, weightless,
as though woven from breath,
a mirage cradled by wind.
The desert of my mind stretches,
each dune a memory that flickers—
a flame extinguishing itself
in the vast mirror of my thoughts.
I chase a golden grain of truth,
curling through fingers
like sand in an hourglass—
each bead a moment
that slipped just beyond recall,
recalling Poe’s plaintive question:
is all this “a dream within a dream”?
Kabir whispered that life
is but a bubble, a moon’s reflection—
a fragile orb suspended
above an ocean of emptiness —
I catch its image in my gaze,
yet the bubble bursts before I know its name.
Silhouettes of truth shimmer—
a forest of fractal whispers dancing
with branches that fold into themselves —
reality unfurls and folds,
a kaleidoscope in the mind’s eye.
In this hall of mirrors
I press my palm against glass—
feeling warmth
that dissolves into cool air,
a phantasm of made-believe.
Still, I wander through the echo—
where light splits into shards of phantom hope—
and learn, as Amy Lowell watched the beetle hide—
how beauty flees when chased .
In the end, illusion is not an absence,
but the prism through which we see—
and even as it fades,
its fragments paint the world
with wonder.
as long as we search for a this or that
employing a prayer or mantra or a chant
the doer in us manifests and thus we fall flat
we believe that unless we strive for what we want
we will be denied elixir of divine sublime bliss
we need to stand erect but posture slants
ascension is as joyful as a loves kiss
truth ego mind would have us disbelieve
we need to do nothing, yet struggle to finish
how simple can it get, yet the truth we try to weave
God omnipresent, He must be here, now, within
save love yearning no truths there to sieve
immediate and intimate, closer than our skin
God Himself breathes us enlivening feeble form
head and heart melded with love, we are free of sin
surrender is the only way, inviting the benign bliss storm
extinguishing ego spawned delusion of separation
felt within clearly as magnetic heat warm
thus divine energy sensed as bliss ignition
vaporises our lower mind once we cease to resist
gripping thus our attention in continuum of meditation
this, dear hermit, is the all of it and the gist
we be to become a divine entwined bliss mist
18-May-2021
Yuval Noah Harari
suggests that Nationalism's
Big Three Nemeses are fear of
nuclear holocaust,
degenerative climate trends,
and Business As Usual disruptions
of eco-politically salvific technology.
When I first read this list
of his global Three,
the one that stood out
at least for me,
to potentially
break through our tendency
to see through lenses
nationalistically
is Earth's great climate pathology.
Still,
all three are LeftBrain dominant,
StraightWhiteMale privileged,
Patriarchal-Capitalist nationalistic systems
of scientific reductive-rooted secularism
and defensive
extractive-infested
militarism.
Aside from a home habitat
in WholeEarth Crisis,
extinguishing all hope
of future peace health
is our cooperative multicultural wealth
regeneration,
our ability to distinguish
which of these three
is most transparently
exploitive and disempowering
our SunShine EcoSystem,
To dialogically determine
which is most polyculturally vulnerable
to inflaming
already repressive Patriarchal/Capitalism,
Which is most unenlightened
and monotheistically RightWing
StraightWhiteMale
LeftBrain dominant
May also be the unholy Fascist fascinated
demonizing ecowomanist healthy choice
and Earth as sacred Goddess
panentheistically denying,
Holy Nature/Spirit indigenous defying,
climatically degenerative Nationalism, yes,
but also, more fundamentally dualistic,
AnthroSupremacism
over ecofeminist healthy wealth
of fertile sacred Earth
Where monoculturing climate "change"
may become most easily defined
by Yanged out RightWing predation
fueled by a competitive economy
of hierarchical
from-above produced
and massively media marketed scarcity,
rather than from-within
ecological healthy robust wealth integrity.
Then again,
I could also see win/win opportunity
for health as wealthy polycultural activity
in co-immigrating away from global fear
of nuclear nationalistic hostility
Emigrating toward global polypathic thrival
post-secularizing revival
of sacredly uniting cooperativity
principles of Eartherapeutic Energy
as healthy integral international democracy,
NonViolent Communication fueled
by
and for
and with Whole
Holistic
Holy EarthTribal
win/win systemic
authentic
intricate
exquisite sacred global integrity.
Shadows of the Valley
creatures of the dark pitted dome
scantily clad dryads' hissing drones they rally
without souls—pod like, they roam
throughout forests assiduously marled
awoken from the darkest depth
twigs and branches splayed and snarled
shadows of the valley doyennes adept
distracting sheaves as straws
spewing dirt they bask in
on battered brain gnaws
Taken in is florescent energy
of the soldiers asleep wondering lost
deep in the woods a shadowy synergy
offering oak caskets at any cost
protecting their woodlands and wild
and sacred groves
the lakes are red
the fireweed’s piled
thickened blood broth nauseates
the marshes are fed
man’s liberation it confiscates
deliverance emits rigmaroles confusion
the mind like strobes swirling
they detest the army’s intrusion
Casting a shield of leaves they scatter
to hide thorns on stems
refining unsightly grey matter
hybrid nymphs whittling femes
on the verge of extinction, losing sight
consuming the troops
and extinguishing their light
Set erect are the maiden’s free
planted are the seeds of iron
into the twisting gnarly shadowy tree
chorus ~
Walk through its musky breath
in the shadows of the valley of death
they rape our land
we strap their hands
the now abandoned
I plead indulgence for my ineptitude
if I seem rude, it's not intentional
You see, my attitude is dimensionally dark...
a painter's plight as daylight fades to night.
It's been labeled 'a fervid fever of fixation."
A calcified complication from the lack of trust,
but I refer to it as the hardening of the heart
as when love has rusted and turned to dust.
The glimmering galaxy is immeasurably immense
but I paint the constellations with pretense
as if Cumulus by day, hide the stars
just as the she-wolf hid Romulus and Remus.
A myth? Perhaps both are that, but...
I believe the clouds spill a thousand secrets
every time malicious Nimbus darkens
and releases his bothersome burdens.
The torrential tears he wept were secrets not kept.
I find no recompense in Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'
and wonder, did he seduce the stars without a script
to capture them shining as light in a lover's eyes?
The only sense I can make of the artist's work
is to view it thinking a torn canvas is two paintings
With oils I do not pause to paint over the constellations...
removing their shine as if they no longer exist
Am I guilty of robbing them of their glory
or is it their secret stories I wish to preserve?
Heavenly stars, if I've wretchedly wronged you
by extinguishing the glow of your luminance,
forgive me for dousing the spark of your flames...
for I am to blame and shaming myself
by melting my tears into your sweet fire.
What caustic contempt you must feel for me
when I fail to conceive the logic of longing.
For my painting I hold disdain as tears must rain
from the watchful eyes of Andromeda and Orion.
No finger and thumb shall ever frame my canvas
nor shall it be given a name, except for "Pain"
My head rests against my empty easel
I tore the painting in half before I could hear
the swooning moon taking pity on me,
forgiving me for my lack of trust in forlorn love.
Tonight, I'll watch the sky without moping,
hoping the Venus in me will welcome the stars
while looking over the shoulders of Mars.
"You are not alone" she whispered to a dying girl
while the angels swooped down to hold a pearl
Unspeakable acts in a world of dishumanisation
mental illness is spreading, inside our Nation..
Why is it the innocent pay for the debt
of sick people they have never met?.
I cannot imagine what Linda was thinking
as she held a dying soul without blinking
In memory of this beautiful soul that died
let us bow our heads and prep our souls
for a moment of quietude and silence
Let us say a prayer for those who died
Mental illness is like a candle stick snuffer
extinguishing flames in a cone shaped world
Its the innocent ones that go on to suffer
in a world where violence/ treason is hurled.
July 24, 2018
“Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to get ready for the dark night haze.” The Poet
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
I settle to watch, inspired by an instant moment, so true.
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
I gaze as the sky bids farewell to the last glimpse of blue.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight.
A sweetness of warmth, a tranquil overtone so light,
As the velvety blanket of night begins to unfold so new,
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, it flickers a perfume too.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy right through.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.