Long Hitherto Poems
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March 14 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Joshua 16-18
Key Verse– Joshua 17:14 And the children of Joseph spake unto Joshua, saying, Why hast thou given me [but] one lot and one portion to inherit, seeing I [am] a great people, forasmuch as the LORD hath blessed me hitherto?
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO BLESSES US
Praise be to God for blessing us as we:
Love Him with devotion
Labour for Him with diligence
Live for Him with dedication
Learn from Him with discernment
Lean on Him with determination
Joshua 16:4 Praise be to the Lord for
His given inheritance that is:
Precious midst waters’ provisions
Priceless midst wilderness’ pests
Pure against wickedness’ perversions
Perfect by His Word’s protection
Profitable through His ways’ preservation
Joshua 18:3 Praise be to the Saviour Who is admonishing
us not to be slack in possessing our blessings by:
Remaining in our selfishness
Retiring in our self-sufficiency
Resting in our self-righteousness
Relying on our self-improvement
Rejuvenating in our self-confidence
Retreating in our self-pity
Rejoicing in our self-esteem. Amen!
March 14, 2024
18.7
“Seeing everything is imagination,
knowing the Self as timelessly free,
the sage lives as a child”
18.8
“Knowing himself as Absolute,
knowing existence and non-existence
to be imagination only,
what is there for the desireless one
to learn, say or do?”
Employing conscious thought to choose meditation
Then handing over the baton of awareness to intuition
Intuition resting in the stream flowing Divine connection
Rests allowing manifestation of ineffable blissful elation
If the point we miss
The learning is this
Just be to become
With Divine Love one
In childlike innocence
Without resistance
(23-August-2019)
~~~
Verse 18.7 to 18.8 revisited on 12-January-2022
What is the underlying noumena
Birthing all manifest phenomena
Self-hypnosis in the hall of mirrors
Fears and desires giving us shivers
Being but illusions we did manifest
Akin to a lucid dream playful jest
At day’s end we slip into deep sleep
Thoughts fade, bliss sinks in deep
We awake each morn sans memory
In stupor continuing our life journey
Yet while awake if we opt for silence
We reclaim divinity of our innocence
Oh worthy lama, cessation the way
Fearless, desireless, given to play
In monk mode embrace and release
Free flowing like the morning breeze
Presence within but not of the world
Sees with each breath, joy unfurled
Mind-body that hitherto was subject
Shifts into the void, thus an object
Pristine awareness free from thought
Devoid of thought, is not fear fraught
That that remains our soul presence
Blissful love and light luminescence
I suddenly became aware
(although rooted motive not clear)
avoiding self castration ere
yours truly back during
forty three plus summers ago
(do the math and figure out what year)
long haired pencil necked geek
applied dull razor
to remove, (albeit temporarily) hair
covering these skinny legs.
The missus asked me
(hitherto known as her bozo)
just mere moments ago
to craft humorous poem to glow
nsync with the shiny nose of Rudolph
keeping syncopated metrical flow
thus methought to crow
about being equally as foolish
streaking naked outside at five below
so without further here I go
rattling off gibberish as common Joe
King cole, a merry old soul...
dirt poor, hence without any dough
to embellish endeavor as literary pro,
who also sought to catch eye of Mister Perdue
(yea him of agribusiness fame)
to sacrifice self for New Year's barbecue.
Yours truly repurposed courtesy rigged
easy to assemble cannibalistic spit
with large fig leaf covering puny naughty bit
meekly (née willingly) surrendered
matter of fact, I paid with bitcoin chit
recognized latest currency
ever since legal tender easily susceptible
and oftimes confused as counterfeit
money forged, smelted, and hammered
linkedin with pendulum that swung within pit.
Thus analogous to
Five Chinese brothers immune
yours truly constituted more'n one secret boon
such fiery flames (hot enough
to melt like molten rock)
could harm not a hair
of one *****sapien baboon
matter fact simian in question could become swell
think hot air balloon
allowing, enabling and providing me quick escape
national anthem playing as most popular tune,
a capella, I simultaneous croon
as hot embers snap, pop, and crackle
token human crisply cooking
taking place at high noon
despite the most ferocious typhoon,
no worry, I defy being drowned
survival skills inherited sophisticated protozoan
symbiotic eukaryotes since time immemorial
livingsocial within tight quarters
with not mushroom
to maneuver - oh... hold on,
cuz I will be done lame
reasonable rhyme really soon
ah... just about done
getting cooked the color maroon.
Quoth felon fate t' nosy nature -
savoring sapid strays punctured.
Worn winds for eerie eavesdrop tarr':
"Why oft does thou nurse salty scars?"
Nosy nature hewn smooth visage
'to a sassy smirk - crushed chins' sway.
Ergo writ she ñ plagued papyrus,
torn tallies acumen smothers.
Fate anon her equipage husked
a" h' nosy nature's lured lotion gulped.
Ergo went h' with th' eerie empress,
t' apt agora leased b' swoon's interest.
Athwart dangled tamed twain 'cross track,
'n' fate hith'to ñ nature's lackey manned.
'20:07:22:08:46
Note:
a) of nature and fate.
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Quoth - said
ii) Tarr' (tarry) - waited
iii) Oft - often
iv) Visage - face
v) Ergo - then/consequently
vi) Writ - wrote
vii) Anon - immediately
viii) Equipage - Military dress
ix) Husked - undressed
x) Agora - a place of gathering
xi) Swoon - infatuation
xii) Athwart - from side to side
xiii) hith'to (hitherto) - till now
xiv) lackey - manservant
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) t' - to
ii) 'to - into
iii) ñ - on
iv) a" - as
v) h' - he
vi) th' - the
vii) b' - by
viii) 'n' - and
Chapter 1: The End of the Eastern Gilded Age
'Twas thrice yon 'ere time clichés galore, albeit, one two many times, that fairy tale's opening wouldst hitherto a harp. History, the effects of narratives indulgences of a period, like an opening performance as a harp is being tuned then it's time to play expressively to narratives who hear a fiddle. History emerges to a gridlock, then it lies and waits for its prey tomorrow, to give its due. It forces off and reloads it with narratives for in this approach all is done kosherly being formal and beliefs necessitate reassurance. The earth learns that history never replicates itself, just the hereafter and those that are uncovered. Some inequalities are constant and relatively taxing to the accountants who are toiling the timepiece, sort of speak, it is fate that reprises since narratives are an irritant bent on annihilation ergo it reinvents itself a new chapter hoping that the old will catch up and take part but the past feels it lacks motivation, hence, it too reinvents itself, a better way, an effective outlook, they repeatedly say that the results are quite promising, with that on the table, why change history.
Young Crown Prince Imperial, Alexei, Heir Apparent to the Imperial throne of Russia, has been diagnosed as a hemophiliac, ...
*The opener of My Short Story: A Century Turns: Soviet Union's Life Expectancy
Curtis was never one to stay in one place for very long
Oh my God they said when they looked at his passport
Multiple entries border crossings migration and search of
Inner Self and ironically a fix point in his travelling mind
No go zone was merely an encouragement to defy advice
Grand locations unexposed jewels magical treasure islands
Baking in the sun basking in downpour and floating on joy
Another journey one more rite of passage before settling
Coming home to hidden places he had never been before
Kaleidoscopes Katzenjammer Kettledrums Knowledge
Hitherto homeless he gallivanted to more distant shore-lines
On full steam of restlessness experiences and adventures
Minded his voyage but remained a foreigner nevertheless
Eventually he ran out of escape routes and returned home
21st February 2021
rushing clear, wild, and free
I am a tumbling mountain stream
this perpetual motion I'm addicted to
from now on, I'm warning you
whatever I reach out to hold onto
I'll honor, I'll cherish, then slip hitherto
away to drift, to roam recklessly
after attempting, but, oh, so fecklessly
to stay, to settle, to build something ...
shameless... I so should be running
yeah, karma... it is your boyfriend, love
even if you were the prettiest dove
this energy past from life to life
in me, I fear, will always reside
why, leaf, are you lost in the wind
blown away and never seen again
it's the season, something you can't control
warm days too short and long nights too cold
to hang onto what gave you your precious life
I know.. you laugh... to think you'll ever die
leaf you've lived and never lived at all
your destiny always and ever is... to fall
dripping like a faucet down the drain
there is no struggle there is no pain
even for the life to which you've clung
on the ladder you're just a rung
for another wanderer soaring up
who'll evaporate into a stormy cloud
leaping from which, he'll cry out loud
because that clear, free, wild stream
is where he's always longed to be
Keep studying the Word, my friend,
For in it lies a powerful blend
Of truth and knowledge, wisdom and light
To guide your path both day and night.
Let it seep into your very soul
And watch as its mysteries unfold
Revealing secrets hitherto unknown
That will lead you to a life full-blown.
Study to show yourself approved
Of God and His ways so pure and true
Let His Word become your daily bread
And give you sustenance to forge ahead.
For, in studying you'll find the tools
To launch yourself from heavenly rules
And learn to walk in purity
As you seek to live in victory.
So, keep studying the Word each day
And let its truths light up your way
For in it lies the key to all success
And the power to truly live and bless.
Sri Krishna Jananam
It was a dreadful night of tears
amidst He came as a child
in a desolate prison
with a promise to protect the good
and demolish the evil
Devaki’s sacred womb
Carried this invaluable gem,
The doors of the prison stood wide open
A divine light was there to guide
Vasudev, the frightened father,
To carry him across a rising river
Lord, over ages you have ferried countless
across the river of life, and lo!
the lean Vasudev carried you across Yamuna!
What a devotion…
A new sun, the Lord, rose in Gokulam
to fill the waiting hands of Yashoda,
A celebration of rare motherhood,
Not hitherto heard of before…
Yasodha, the divine mother, clasped Him
She clasped Him with tears, tears of joy
that was held up in her eyes for countless lives!
Krishna cried too to inform His arrival
The whole world has been blessed…
Even when in dream
And all the more
Life be not what it seem
But lo, a revolving door
And we step thro’ without knowing
What awaits the other side
A silent horizon; a twilight glowing—
Or a teary long-distance call—
That lets us know,
A dear friend has died.
And the tears we cried as we’d decide
They are better off, now the pain is gone,
Or fool our own selfish desire
To have them yet by your side,
To laugh as we once laughed,
And cry as we once cried.
To fold ourselves within each others lives,
And giveth a hope that beyond all, love survives—
Death and every end we perceive;
The sun setting in a bitter eve,
From which, we lift our heads from the drowning dread
And lay ourself down to bed,
With the memories that brought us the most joys;
The golden years when we fought over toys
And relented in “sorries” said,
The best of best friends,
And to the later love we were led.
Let love transcend—
Let sorrow say it’s last goodbyes,
We’ll always have yesterday
Till alas,
Our ancient flower,
Our destiny—
Blooms and hitherto dies.
(and gods little bee, with pollen, flies)