Long Submerging Poems
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We have no sabbath sense
deep enough
wet enough
searching baptismally enough
for Earth's oceanic atmosphere.
Sabbath is for monotheistic cities
and castled lands
we anthro-supremacist share
to weekday busyness hold them
six weakly orthodox dry days per week
On lands we sell ourselves
to uneasily rest
deeply contest
land-based sixes
and sacred sevens
Crowding human over-splattered population
huddling beneath self-mattered desecrated sabbaths
longing to land-based rabid breed
deeper nourished oceanic sacramentals
higher flourished seasoned ornamentals.
Over these past several seasick years
Sunday crawls back toward Atlantic's western shore,
border stretch of dry as lustless dust
then wet love-drenched sand
leading out to ocean's deep sustaining
Atlantis-Pacific round wet sabbath
Populated more and more
by all-consuming human barging desecration,
I notice my slowly growing urge
to run then walk then swim to float away
from continental fractured unrest
Compelled to seek a cooler wetter nest
where sabbaths still speak sea-psalm gullibly
in bygone blissful birdsongs
swaying surging suds
of soulfully submerging
saliently surfing
salty sacramental tears
reviving EarthPacific SunDays.
As sunrise silently
marinaded morningtide meadows,
our lips flowed like two streams,
merging within an exclusive estuary
so we set home upon the river bed.
At first we floated like butterflies in Babylon,
deaf to the squawks of mercenary crows,
blind to the creeping weeds,
which wandered amongst delicate petals
nor did I notice our submerging embankment.
As our estuary began to evaporate,
you left me stranded in the silt and mud.
My heart, once a blossoming garden,
evolved into a wasteland of sedges and sludge.
Still I wait for soothing streams to return,
but all I am left with is marshland of regret
and the silence of the butterflies.
“The dark wasteland of life I need to traverse
kindling the beacon of hope at the edge of time” – by Poet
In the flooding river of the tormenting time,
spreading the arms of smothering agony,
I feel my exuberant essence drown disowned,
and for an anchorage I cling to the string of hope.
You disappear from collapsed plateau of yearning,
I hear the call of the distant bell tolling for me,
submerging the music of my life’s broken violin
in the flow of the sonorous stream of solitude.
As the tide of time searches for the edge of eternity,
in the fading twilight of despair I breathe forlorn
the melancholic air that whispers the sunset song,
echoing the rhythm of my soulful susurration.
From the enwrapping expanse of wasteland dust
I’ll rise with the indomitable resolve not yet lost,
and on the trail illumined by the rays of the new sun
with tinge of hope, I’ll travel to the horizon of ecstasy.
_______________________
October 31, 2021
Contest : "S" Contest, New Poems
Sponsor : Constance La France
Oh, beatific lotus flower, blossom of my pious soul
How brilliantly you ascend, sparkling in sunrise gold
Being the emissary of divinity ancient tenets behold
Invigorating spiritual vibes unwavering beliefs extol
Oh, tender touch of angels, purity of enlightened life
How mystically your petals divulge esoteric delight
Kneeling for mortal beings, submerging into the night
Yearning renewal upon cleansing unwelcome strife
Oh, sage of wisdom, imperial emblem of knowledge
How you rise again and again, edifying life and death
Heavenly spirits you elate awakening human intellect
Illuminating senses in revelations of Buddhist texts
Oh, symbol of rebirth, essence of pure revered faith
How prayers of sacred words in your epiphany toll
Where rhythms of my heart in tenor of nirvana echo
As you grant eternal peace to mortals lost on earth
Oh, beatific lotus flower, blossom of my pious soul
January 1, 2021
Placed 5th: Lotus of my heart poetry contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Placed 5th: Your choice (43) contest by Brian Strand
"Other Worlds"
Drifting through
my mind once
Apollonian
I am enticed
by the larger
Dionysus
I am
a very small creature
twee, so
point.on.the.delivery
irrelevant
a novel conundrum
where? the exact position to place?
like a hummingbird with
fast beating wings
violently violet and honeydew beak
singing towards
The Fields of Elysian
All that IS
I am
Recklessly Unknown
blending into the middle path
no standout
I am now
Divine
Other Worlds
beckon me
For what Was
is not Now and
never was sanctuary
I am beguiled
through an
opening mind
Inwards hooked
the magnet tugs relentlessly
at my free willed warm tides
I leave behind
without a care
the wasted -
those living in
the broken shards
of my frozen memories
they are all submerging
Tied up in sheets
the weight of senseless stories
throughout the years, sink rapidly
they bare me no life essence, they are
wrapped around the fast falling
anchor of acquiescence
They will rust and perish
in the forgotten
lost chronicles of time
A past and irredeemable future
dissolving, fizzing like a soluble drug
the tincture swallowed
In one breath gone
Now
emerges
a sharp escape
I am all butter soft
and melting
safe and aeons
away
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
gvlm/llb
Bassnectar & Dorfex Bos - Other Worlds [Reflective Part 2]
https://youtu.be/q_hBf1ghAGE
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elysium
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollonian_and_Dionysian
In my foamy bubble there 's ample room for
free-floating and even, once in a while, submerging for a while
beneath the surface, where the wild things are and disturb
tranquility.
And when I free-float my head spins in only one direction, peace. It's quite
comfortable inside my bubble, and nothing can burst it, not even the bullets and bombs and, certainly, not the usual drumbeat of words, such as get a hold on your life and or stop deluding yourself. I've put a tape on my ears and, thankfully, am deaf to disheartening needles aiming to burst my bubble.
In your inner paradise find a priest to wed you to yourself and wish you eternal happiness. Barely I survive my own demons sometimes, and today there's no sign of them. Surprise, we 're off to a long vacation and you can come along, as long as you don't bump into my bubble and drag me to the real world, okay?
I have received many assurances and can rest now knowing my bubble is for the foreseeable future fully intact.
No need to worry about the day after, it will hit you unaware.
On lazy uneventful afternoons
I sometimes venture into the quiet haven
that is my occupied mind as if a voice
in the wilderness beckoned me there.
It's always my favorite place to go...
on a day in disarray to contemplate
and expunge impurities that swirl inside
my head. I would sit beneath a tree as I trap
myself in the undertow of reverie,
submerging in the depth of serene solitude.
I go woolgathering on certain afternoons
in the meadow of my mind, listening to
the wondrous cacophonies of nature.
How delightful the mellifluous sounds
of chirping birds? The rustling of leaves?
Myriad of memories I long laid to bed
would spring awake as soon as I close my eyes
My thoughts would swing like a pendulum
between the past and the future.
It's amazing how much the mind can hold!
A miscellany of thoughts would continue to rage
as I linger there lost in the arresting scenery,
taking in the invigorating zephyr; how it soothes
my skin! It's the most beautiful escape
from the chaotic here and now
On lazy uneventful afternoons
I oftentimes linger there in meditation,
reluctant to leave such a peaceful oblivion,
but I must. I always do with bright smile
as I open my eyes again to a peaceful world.
Date written: 07/11/2016
Swaddled in frozen silence
In a weather so dolorous and damp
The pores of her mind sweat painful memories
Which take a headlong flight
Faster than the beams of light
At times shaking their fearful manes
As unbridled steeds, they come
Raising dust behind
Making all sanity blurred.
Often, they rise from their indulgent stupor
And spill over, submerging all extant thoughts
They never care to stand in queue
Jostling each other with no manners
They bump on one another, breaking all decorum
Like an unruly mob on impatient wait
Caught in the vortex of a whirling current
Her poor body begins to lose its equilibrium
And she plunges into the bottomless depth
To be choked there in whirling gloom!
The Cold Facts of Life**
In her own eyes, she was a flawless woman, embodying grace and beauty so perfectly that many around her often mistook her for a goddess, revered by those less privileged. Yet, beneath this polished exterior lay a vulnerable heart, one that yearned for genuine connection. It was during a picturesque summer at Lake George, with its shimmering waters and enveloping nature, that the man of her dreams swept into her life like a tempest. He stole away her innocence, submerging her in the cold depths of the lake, both physically and emotionally, leaving her feeling heavy with the weight of lost virtue.
As she reflected on her experiences, it became painfully clear that too often, shadows obscure our true vision. Infatuation, with its thrilling highs and intoxicating allure, had led her to confuse mere attraction with real love. Now, standing at a crossroads, she recognized the irony of being impeccable yet careless. Through her journey, she transformed into a living testament to the harsh realities of love, confronting the cold facts that life had laid before her.
I remember the day I became a poet.
In the magnificence of the submerging sun,
I glanced upon her admiring its majesty.
Amidst hues of clementine and lilac,
her image cast a shadow so serene.
My heart began to flutter like a butterfly,
floating towards her -
finally free from the chambers of my cocoon.
Like a silk scarf, scarlet petals wove a path,
aromatising footsteps that led to her.
Who could this mysterious lady be,
that had humbled such a hardened heart?
Although strangers, it felt as our souls
had known each other for eternity.
In twinkling twilight, I could see
pieces of the moon illuminating through her eyes.
How could I forget how the reflection of her smile
invited me to wander willingly into her heart.
Like nocturnal nightingales adrift in the night,
we sang sensual melodies not heard before.
Sensations felt from her soft satin skin
remain a euphoric timeless memory.
Seduced within the substance of soulful desires,
her enchanted essence became my first poem -
the purity of her existence my eternal poetry.
Silent One
19 March 2018