Long Relinquishing Poems
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path any, what is pointed to is this
simply enter silence, stop flow of time
that God’s magnetism may fill us with bliss
and vibrant heart heeds the sublime love chime
relinquishing each conditioned belief
softening attention and gentling touch
on its own consciousness turns a new leaf
breath by breath thanking God ever so much
layer by layer, the false falls away,
revealing our true Self as divine light,
rapturous in bliss mists by night and day,
holding firm sconce of love by day and night.
let not narrow ego cravings befool ~
love’s the only rule in this earth life school
Inside familiar folds of my hanging apron
I encounter a blinkless miniature figurine
Glossy, posable, plastic as a Lego creation
Loyal component of kitchen enforces routine
Breakfast allures with buttery muffins toasted
Lunch- a- lot predicts sandwich towers teetering
Dinner calls for lavish legs of livestock roasted
Day which follows knows a sequence repeating
Pack away cycle of soap, soak, replace, bench polishes
Scouring for recipes, Lego lady's eyes neatly smile
Cinnamon wafting whirlwind with servitude accomplishes
Devourers' belches earn her Master Caterer title
Beneath bed, which ejects me at six am alarm
Failed slipper search produces palm sized plaster sculpture
Icing faced, eyes without memory, eternally calm
Solid base she stands on stops commotion from toppling her
Nine am sees my arrival, politely inquiring co-operation
Afternoon forgets to yawn, incessant key tapping keeps on
Harsh carpark steps echo, repell dusk's contemplation
Traffic jams tomorrow's chasms, where dreams hold reunion
Crisp gives way to crinkles, plaster sculpture refutes
Her congeniality and aptitude due to exhaustion
Chalky cheeks split with encouragements' overuse
Legs held as one are motionless to express discourse
Steam escaped open door shows mirrored me showered
Bounce of towel buffed flesh rises in delightful nonchalance
Droplets of conciousness roll a path cleansed in empowerment
Serpent tongue hair saturates time, attacks life with vehemence
This flower that gives more than any other
Is sure to be a blessing to those who recover
From illness and blight
Brought from dark shadows to light
To discover its natural gift
Of healing and lift
To those who need most
The beauty of nature's repose
That allows us all to be healthier
Our lives, our hearts, our spirits with less barriers
This intrinsic answer so simply stated
Dear cannabis flower so anciently created
For those whose illness has taken its toll
With the pain and affliction we all know
Relinquishing the suffering of those that need you
This flower that gives more than any other
Is now to be a blessing for those to recover
October 29, 2019
Writing Challenge, October Flower
Sponsored by Wiishkobi Ode
To know who in truth I am, is my quest
Scriptures affirm we are luminous soul
I care, I search, for that glow in my chest
Elixir divine that will make me whole
Fleeting is joy and lingering is pain
It’s a play of desire and aversion
I go in within, to cleanse my soul’s stain
Head melding with heart, path of conversion
God search my goal and to this end I strive
Relinquishing all knowing and belief
The vast void beckons, into it I dive
Graced by touch of God, I turn a new leaf
In timeless time, lower mind falls away ~
I see who I Am, clear as light of day
Golden enchanting warm beautiful magic
falling behind mountains spell binding
A setting sun bows down relinquishing her throne
paints glowing amber clouds faraway in a distant horizon dreams
She smiled while whispering the few very freeing words
while she ran deeper into her bright future
Darkening skies breathing daylights lastly sighs
her last breath glistening gold dancing with the shadows
rippling waves call out inside one thousand echoes
Darkness slowly swallowing light silk satin ebony
The little lights knew it couldn't last
because evil drifts in
as the shadows of the past
Making way for the stars winking silver
Rocked gently side to side on a smiling moon
an eclipsing marriage
when the sun kisses the moon
golden silvery beautiful
This is how we are going to be;
so holy, magic and so great
we carry experience
with the soul and heart to create
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and
Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 02.01.2015 -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Toward Material Trappings
Gold and silver upholds
true value capitalist money tree
Thrown down upon gaunt
lit alter of Midas,
treasured as current sea
Countless denominations
cashiered legal tender to grant
Rich Midas, who straddles
diamond compound,
billed as sacred Kant
Tickles with dollar signs
motley foolish crue scrambling
towards drawbridge gate
Pedestrians malingering
hungry thirst
for wealth of nations to satiate
Inexorable appetite
for wanton money to amass
Fuels reverence
all that glitters even brass
Whence madding crowd
behaviour cruel and crass
Deplorable if perceived
from one-way looking glass
Fool hardiness to revere
what beast called money,
lucre, and green back
Can buy - sweeping across
World Wide Web
scarring globe on fast track
Toward accumulating
high excess lavish life harried style
parade with pomp
and swiftly tailored circumstances while
Ninety nine percent
of less wealthy live hand to mouth
Envying those billeted
behind sealed mansions
east, west, north and south
Except this dollar less chap,
who could not give a rat’s tush
For ka-ching melodic sound
twenty four seven that does swoosh
In burlap sack clothes
and bank accounts preferring
to slog and push
Along boulevard of broken dreams
that resembles nothing but mush
Yet preference prevails
foregoing attachment
to government sanctioned loot
Freeing mind and body trying
to cherish voluntary simplicity,
which does suit
This quest for knowledge seeking writer,
who disparages
tooting his own horn
Nor imposing personal philosophy
that gives reason exuberantly to exhale
Versus vacuity and purposelessness
sans, blind faith toward Holy Grail
Goading most people to persevere
for millions of bucks over hill and dale
Despite owning next to nothing,
yet detaching psychological
bond that doth choke
Ability to experience unfettered psyche
likened to oxen iron bound yoke!
Quote: “The healing power of time is not a myth but a reality. Given enough time, most emotional pain eases and eventually disappears altogether.” – Allan J. Adler
Time, the alchemist of wounds,
When my heart is shattered, and despair consumes,
I am imprisoned in dungeons of darkness and solitude,
But time's fleeting touch offers solace, a momentary interlude.
Time, the mender of sorrows,
Weaving a tapestry of healing tomorrows,
Yet the heart remains in fragments, shattered and torn,
Your presence lingers, in every sunbeam and moonlit morn.
It may take an age, a lifetime or more,
To find someone who understands the depths I explore,
Together we'll embrace the blossoms, the birds, and the bees,
Discovering pearls in oysters, on sun-kissed shores by the seas.
Time, the essence that forever slips away,
In my pursuit, I often forget the love that holds sway,
Attachments and desires, earthly and crude,
Peace of mind resides in relinquishing their delude.
For in surrendering to the divine's embrace,
Time finds eternity, a tranquil, timeless space.
I feel amused by the sentiment of homegoing
And yet still have not arrived to the understanding
What it all meant, going home and not coming
Though to come may allude return to one’s source…
The nuance of the verbiage, though discreet, is deliberate
For the naked youth whose cry dare shatter the continuum of space itself
And yet need not rupture the now theoretical cord
Brought forth by miracle of life as mother nourishes babe
Is it treason perhaps, relinquishing ration that home is the fertile nest
Knowing not to retreat to womb but invited to exist in unison
With murmuring which echoed outside as much as from within,
The chords of the calling tone, pray, come here, do not go
Though, home I go, at death no longer guided to the place of birth
For home was never branded in her but a fire lit still for us
Was not predestined by seed but planted in ear by love’s embracing whisper
Home I go, not to remind me of where it all began but where I yet grow
For if to home I come by reverse memory in this way
We know not if it dare invite us in, nor bear fruit this day at all
If home lived in the peripheral lens where the soul was informed
Of its sentience, then to come home defies the law of pursuing only the uncharted.
Pray I recall that no such spectacle signifies the homecoming
A memory I may revisit but not relive promises no longevity
No prosperity within the oracle of time beyond, and thus
I shall go home to the familiar tune I have yet heard from outside the bound.
“We are not this limited mind body
We are not instinct driven, thoughts shoddy”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Attachment the glue which binds and confines
Debilitating and contracting consciousness
Throwing us off course, as we misalign
Shrouding presence in darkness
We easily discern ego as cause
Seeking body pleasures ephemeral
Upon spiralling thoughts put on pause
Addictions vaporise on choosing life internal
The cravings which arise, mental or physical
Powerless once we become a bliss mist
Relinquishing doership, life simple
Surrendering, ceasing to resist
There are short term measures
Help lines, therapists and doctors
Yet in the end if Gods love we treasure
Vibrant bliss vivifies all our in-form vectors
All addiction essentially yearning to grow
Deludedly choosing domain transient
Shifting in silence and stillness slow
We regain joy, our native element
24-December-2020
Addiction poetry contest
Sponsor: Rob Levasseur
Gripped by transgressions in life of destitute
Withdrawn she lived in deviant troubled youth
Orphaned long ago by her own living parents
When in substance abuse she buried her soul
Distancing benevolence as church-bells tolled.
Abdicating love, she traded for buzz of lust
Forsaking trust to bolster deceptive purpose
Relinquishing sapience to forces of insanity
Finding her pleasures in discarded emotions
Someone volunteered on disgruntled streets
At midnight hour agog in tumultuous alleys.
Yet, her vacant heart was soon transformed
When jettisoned chorus found her repertoire,
As she spent nights singing hymns of joy
And read stories aloud in her mother’s voice
Cherishing how she swayed in her father’s arms
As the song of her own womb sung of a new life.
From place to place she went scouting spots
Where kind-hearted people lived downtown
And there she went when the church bells rang
As she said a prayer after a very long time
Asking for blessings as her newborn baby cried
On a stranger’s porch near a posh high-rise
Hiding long enough till someone took notice,
Swiftly thereafter from the town she vanished.
June 17, 2020
Placed 2nd: Thesaurus – Abandon or Abandoned Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Based on true stories in the United States