Long Oscillations Poems
Long Oscillations Poems. Below are the most popular long Oscillations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Oscillations poems by poem length and keyword.
Guarded by towering hills on the East
And flanked by the Arabian Sea on the West
With its easterly shore of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep,
There is a land, my land of green vegetation
Nestled among palm trees and paddy fields.
Oh! I am in love with this narrow strip of land
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
Of gibbering monkeys and singing cuckoos
What rich diversity you graciously provide
A land dotted with temples, churches and mosques
Where Hindus, Christians and Muslims cohabit
Where diversity flows through her arteries
And unity beats through her throbbing heart
Here souls dance to the timeless rhythm of music
Of diverse genres, vocal and instrumental
Classical and folk, sung either as solo or in groups
With the accompaniment of (2) 'veena',(3) 'tanpura' and violin
Their varying pitches beautifully synchronized!
In the serene dawns and dusky evenings
The atmosphere gets abuzz with the soft strains
Of (1) ‘Sopana Sangeetham’, the ethnic music of Kerala,
It comes floating from inside the Hindu shrines
Flooding soul’s enchanted shores,
And opening the floodgates of piety
In healing murmurs and throbbing notes,
As the symphony builds up its circuitous round
It descends down as a stream of blessing
Drenching devotees in its moistening sweetness
Like the drizzle of dew drops from heaven
Making hearts ride in the palanquin of joy!
May.21.2023
If your Birthplace- Country was a Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Anoucheka Gangabissoon
This poem is about Kerala, a small state in India, which is my birthplace and its geography and culture.
1.Sopana Sangeetham is a form of Indian Classical music, developed in the temples of Kerala. It is sung, sitting by the holy steps leading to the sanctum sanctorum of a shrine.
2.Veena- a stringed musical instrument, one of the oldest of Indian musical tradition, played sitting cross legged, capable of producing all oscillations of Carnatic music
3. Tanpura- a drone instrument of Indian origin used mainly in a concert of classical music, creating a melodic background, but not a melody.
“That which has form is not real
Only the formless is permanent
Once this is known
you will not return to illusion”
A koan, a quiz
Let us begin by saying it like it is
We bleed, we experience pain
We live through loss & gain
If a dream within a dream ad infinitum
The dream is real within the continuum
Beginning thus with a contrary view
Let us rotate polarity to live anew
Thought rested in intuitive stillness
The external replaced with Divine connectedness
As oscillations slow down
Fears & desires drown
There is felt within a definite consciousness shift
Magnetism within rising that does uplift
The essence of our being at the core
Enlivening us with ineffable bliss we never felt before
Our being-ness thus in permanence in stillness
Whereupon we recognise the eternal attribute of formlessness
The external being ephemeral
The internal being eternal
(19-August-2019)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Verse revisited on 23-October-2021
Setting aside speculation
We make void, our orientation
Taking consciousness as aliveness
Recognising delusion of separateness
Why then negate this offered experience
So we celebrate play of illusions in innocence
In, within but not of the the turbid world
We meld with bliss currents unfurled
Moment to moment, love entwined
Vaporised, nothing to be divined
10.8
“For how many lifetimes
have you done hard and painful labor
with body, mind and speech?
It is time to stop”
Ah! This entreaty
It has this ring of compassionate divinity
Emanating from a true seer moved by our plight
Enmeshed in delusion oblivious to the light
We are already free but we choose to indulge in illusion
We know our conscience is real but are addicted to delusion
Fear of freedom keeping us bound
So we reincarnate again & again upon this ground
The reality is simple in that we co-create
A partner in crime with the ego that agitates
Misaligning our attention blocking the divine connection
Reclaimable instantly in stillness of meditation
(20-August-2021)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Verse revisited on 01-November-2021
Shhh! Read this one and pause
For it is wisdom discerning the cause
Of our suffering, feeling of incompleteness
Arising from wayward stuporousness
Truth this: we are not mind -body
Fears and desires shoddy
Let’s admit we have a split personality
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rotating in continuity
Ego driven lower mind fuels cravings of the flesh
Spiralling thought forms that freedom enmesh
Whilst conscience whispers love vibrations
If we listen, we awaken bliss sensations
Silence and stillness shows us the way
In tranquil thought rested awareness we pray
Oscillations slow down, vibrant is our soul presence
We reclaim innate innocence and luminescence
Empty mind body vessel, with love resonates
Each node within form, to bliss gyrates
We are a receptor and God the doer
The doing is all done so let’s move slower
We are as He so in truth there is no separation
Reality of oneness recognised in deep meditation
Oh hermit, this dream life is a reflected reality
Womb of silence reveals truth in clarity
Path simple; just align head with heart
When desires cease, bliss ignition does start
Consciousness is then in but yet not of the world
As moment by moment we see bliss unfurled
We shine in full glory as the living light
Obtaining by grace, spherical sight
Tomorrow you will wake up
drag yourself out of your bed
even when your mind is tired
so is every cell in your body.
Then you will ponder
over the idea of your existence
while your body habitually
gets drenched in hot shower.
May be you will have ideas
of the grand escape you dream of
while you munch your toast
or wonder of your might-be fantasies
while your throat gulps warm coffee.
With lumps of mundane thoughts to puke
while peeking over the traffic enroute
with people buzzing their way through
you will remember that forgotten city
that leaves you wondering who you are.
And when you press buttons on the elevator
you will think of leaving a footprint there
reminiscing the way you breathe atop that old cliff
while your feet walk their way to work
all you have been thinking about is to leave
when you really don't know where to.
But even though your mind is clueless
for discovering another journey
now that you are at the end of one
with all the glory it has offered
you will hope of finding it the next day
while you return to your bed at night.
And with a million oscillations in your mind
like the unwritten pages of your story
you will remember having read somewhere
on a worn-out whiteboard in blue
'Existence is a struggle'
and you will hope to write some day
'But it is worth finding'.
May 9, 2020
For BRIAN'S CHOICE 8,any form,any theme
Winner: Third Place
Free Verse
I live not far from humankind the cradle that is of
what and where we are all coming from Johannesburg
so they say and going to one human race of every colour
no need for power domination colonializing margins
The ‘dark continent’ where the ‘savages’ did not abide
by our expectations of what civilized should be and mean
where it was us the other 'othering' cannibalizing our flesh
of freedom dignity compassion lost in money mind and soul
My cradle rocks and sways in the wild gentle winds in
torrents of emotion mood reflection history anticipation
certain of uncertainty of what the intermingling retrospective
past and future web together like a tapestry of life a bricolage
Lost threads there are and double knitted faults and hollows
shallow worn out spins and spiral knots and missing patches
mended winding fabric scars and wounded oscillations
swings and roundabouts cul-de-sacs and four-way stoppage
Is there a pattern to cradling the moment to memories to
fantasies of rooted wings and flapping roots a human kind
of compass joining needles implements of mass construction
subjective individual shining lights and armour idiosyncratic beauty
Are we starving demising suffocating for self-righteousness
loosing the plot and all the marbles thrown high up in the
air with juggled balls we aim to fix the waters rivers flowing
on their own with push and pull of light and lighted gravitation
Just here and now not there and then when sunshine rises
where rainbows glitter melt and wax the wane all of the colours
into violet prisms focussing condensing refracting blinding darkness
understanding knowledge of the shadows and bright clarity
When I write some thoughts on paper on the screen of modern
techniques and ancient art of crafted words and scripted meaning
the cradling of the moment takes its paths of where I’ve started off
and might be going once and only when the moment passes
02nd July 2016 written in Johannesburg and everywhere
Have you ever considered
how your shoes will look
without your feet?
I should call Dr. Killeen this afternoon,
find out if I have cancer
but I’m enjoying the extra weekend of not knowing.
Strong oscillations
gather rhythm
and expel me or accept me.
It’s annoying
being the center of attention,
the dead man walking.
Things often work out better than you expect
and this probably will too.
In the transition to non-existence,
Ken said, you get what you believe.
Now that is a truly scary thought,
even scarier than Life is but a dream.
Pain serves the purpose of preparing
one to die.
Other methods have been tried but this works best.
You tie up your affairs
or maintain the discipline you possessed
when feeling well. Eschew
certainty about the afterlife.
All will be given
that must be what faith means.
Don’t forget to breathe.
Rain happens. We supply the reasons.
Leave no footprint in eternity. No smell.
Multitudinous micro-
oscillations manifest
misleadingly,
Quarks quintessentially
quantify questionable
quantum- permanence,
Subatomic structures subtly
simulate substantial
superficies
Macroscopic mutability,
Fleeting fluctuations
fabricated from formless
frequency- fields,
Intricate interfaces interlock
intersecting illusory imagery,
Disintegrating dimensions
deceive dedicated density-
seekers,
Evanescent energies
effortlessly evade external
examination,
Architectural absolutes
automatically atomize along
apertures,
Vaporous voids vividly veil
vast vacuousness.
Fleeting matter masks
quantum voids.
Pre-puberty years
Playful innocence
Warm ready embrace
Quarrels, aberrations
Rapidly erased
An uncluttered mind
Open, forgiving heart
Reborn each morn anew
Growing up, ego manifests
Taught to be street smart
Testosterone levels high
Feral instincts prevail
In the game of one-upmanship
Need to win our obsession
Heart shrouded in darkness
Conscience whispers in dreams
Upon expending our energy
Recognising earth life transience
We look at dark thought spirals
A Frankenstein we created
Remorseless devouring our soul
We are astonished and dismayed
Looking at these sunken vibrations
We have chosen to stagnate in
To erase negativity from its roots
We stop the flow of turbid thoughts
By shifting our attention inwards
Into the hidden recesses of our heart
In time stretched stillness and silence
Negating the oscillations that surface
Until we become a rippleless lake
Choosing to remain for eternity thus
In timeless time, the false falls away
Fulcrum of our consciousness, space
Our mind-body now an empty shell
Cleansed of erst ego borne dark stains
Reveals from deep within our heart
Our true self shining, bubbling with bliss
Magnetised by the healing light divine
Suffusing all nodes with ecstatic rapture
Boundaries blur between others and us
We feel underlying interconnectedness
Recognising in time that love alone real
All other vibrations but thought constructs
Entrapping our attention in myriad illusions
Plunging our consciousness in delusion
Thus we meld head with heart and love
Twice born here now in the flesh, erect
Earth dream life yet plays on in as ordained
We enact our role in resonation with love
Our vaporised self is immune from harm
Simply because there is no identity within
That that is, is a bliss mist, a living light
Empowered by the sublime breath of God
Thus we inhale vital life force with gratitude
With exhalation in simplistic childlike surrender
16-October-2021
Flower power
“If you’re going to
San Francisco be sure to
wear a flower
in your hair”
long and shaggy
shagged longing wild
And to Berlin or
Paris for that
matter to dream to
meet a girl and more
under the fountain
The “Fountainhead”
on your mind
“Atlas shrugging”
all the weight of
established rigour
tremors oscillations
generational discord
transmitted juxtaposed
agonising opposition
Budding opening
freedom harmony
erect and upright
subconscious conscience
That girl with
curvy bottom and more
outer beauty inner fire
no curve balls
simply passion
adventure living
loving one in all
Embraces soaking
wet the moment
living on for now
for past and memories
intertwining venture
What is
what is coming
what was to come
appeared enlightened
what did not happen
withers lingers
explodes from
Venus-mangoed delta
reappears in wetlands
of pruned and rooting
ecstasy high rising climax
It matters not
if cobbled streets
descended from Montmartre
or mountains climbed
in open spaces putting
petting lips and heartbeats
openings and new
beginnings novel closure
It matters little great
deaths not so petite
at times of passion
'enlived' 'enstoried'
restoried recomposed
narrated and retold
episodic dedication
Floral bouquets
wild herbs and spices
arrangements
derangements
cinnamon bark on
your underbellies senses
Gathered over time
reflections longing
hope pragmatic
bold appeasement
ceasefires dynamic
bonfires bonne fires
static momentary
life and for the
living levitating
lovers
You are not going
to Paris all that
often any longer
but the scent free
spirit erotic flowers
frisson crescendo
warm hearted climax
exhaustion images
Is there in you hair
still shaggy longing
seduction floating
coming together
Is there in
your path’s ways
Is there in
your dreams
I stand in the aftermath
between the oscillations of time
wondering idle thoughts of you
I feel my mind haunted by
the passing moments of you
like passing effigy’s funeral parade
idle images n bright photographs
only your shadow hides in my mind
as time lingers on by
these moments caught in apathy
have you seen the leaves drifting in time
turning the colors of Crimson, amber, sublime
see orange fires, a hue of Oblivion’s season
watch then fall over and over again n again
thinking only of you, only of your hue
have you ever seen
the snowflakes suspended
in time, caught in the cold air
before it leaves this moment
down, down, flutters, and spins
melts away
how can you dare
Not understanding what I bear
all along my stair
I see you in the flowing night
It jars my mind
filled with ruminations
deep in my eons primordial form
I stand in the glare of the oncoming light
floating in your eyes, drifting in your smile
I stand in the aftermath
between the moments
of you n seconds of my wrath
linger the idle images of you
dividing the turns of the hand
into moments divided
into some infinite
infinity of parts
the black flock of the clergy, pass
I see you there in the snow
as it drifts upon your hair
the church is bare
all have left the service
streetlights flicker on
I stand in the twilight watching
wander away, not saying a thing
feeling the snow, fleeting
linger in the air, feeling your shadow
linger on quietly n despair
I stand in the aftermath
between the oscillations of time
wondering idle thoughts of you
I feel my mind haunted by
the passing moments of you