Long Turbid Poems
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Selene was smoldering, the shadows shrouding Her face.
Alone. I crept through limp leaves and decaying debris.
I felt grim fingers grasping, gripping, slowing my pace.
Faint flickers filtered through gnarled trees like fine filigree.
I wondered why I am here; I wondered where is here?
I stumbled over shallow mounds, smelling the stained soil.
Alone. A putrid presence charged me with fetid fear.
My queasiness convulsed in a turbid, rancid roil.
Murky dampness clambered over clammy, flaccid flesh.
If this were dream, I prayed to end my nightmarish plight!
A chilling calm came over me and I feared afresh.
Alone. Selene hid Her visage and sheen from my sight.
Alone. The noxious night darkened, enveloping me.
Notes:
1. Selene, Greek goddess of the moon
2. 13, symbolic of rebellion and lawlessness in the Bible
3. 13 syllables in each line
4. 13 lines in the poem
5. today’s date, 13 October
The ask is silence, let’s see what it takes
To hush the blush of senses five
On flow of turbid thought, to apply brakes
Yet keeping awareness alive
Sipping nectar from heart’s bliss hive
These prerequisites require surrender
Choosing to shift from head to heart
Throb of magnetism, silent bliss thunder
Ignites on adding love to cart
Enabled, no sooner we start
To become as such, we must choose to shift
It’s not a game of make belief
With focus held firm, that we do not drift
We willingly turn a new leaf
At last offering soul relief
Bliss enabled but we’re still in realm dual
As yet enslaved by time and space
Though cravings of ego no longer rule
And we have slowed down our life’s pace
We’ve yet to see God, face to face
A time does come when we see ego die
Simply stated, it falls away
It is then we see, earth life is a lie
Beholding Self, as clear as day
A vibrant, pulsating sun ray
How still is our silence, if we’ve not seen
Truth of who we really are
Light of a thousand suns, is our soul’s sheen
Here within, not somewhere afar
Aflame, like a luminous star
A calm morning with the nippiest breeze of October,
the moss-covered rocks shed the surf:
as it is thrown back into the tumultuous surge,
and on the glimmering and soggy sand...
the writhing shellfishes won't survive without the salty water;
they will helplessly hang on life, only to perish on land!
With wool gloves and cap I'm still cold,
and still my skin is exposed to sunburn;
a motorboat crosses the hazy horizon,
emitting a sharp blast from its noise horn,
but the silent sea-gulls lack the urge to flutter away,
there in throngs they fight off the chilly day!
Sullen as a turbid ocean, I tumble down the soaked dunes,
slammed hard by a ferocious wind not offering solace;
I swirl in agitation reaching for my warm cap,
which gently lands into an abandoned basketball's net!
Why is everything so tuneless as the surly larks...
the sluggard's eyes snap with anger as a hound barks!
The early sunset turns crimson, then gradually swarthy,
warning the haggard fisherman to pull the fishing rod
out of the foul water...to make him feel too forlorn;
suddenly...the windstorm increases the swelling of the rolling waves,
and the beach-goer, so serene and supine, has to leave hurriedly:
this was a remote refuge for his earnest prayers and quite thoughts!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Bleakish heart of pains,
Unwrapped from mortal's feeling of care
Bastardly coined to suit immerse hurt.
Invincible, yet darker than black darkness.
A visitor sweeping through pleasure-less passion.
Cloudy piles of undemonstrative depth.
Unwelcomed, yet rash to adsorb poor minds of men.
I'm sunk in, swallowed of my fainting breath.
Such fear to be stripped in bonds unpalatable to life.
Protuberant six month's count I spill in tears.
Shadows of turbid reflection stealing every consciousness.
As I lie in a mood-less portion destitute in spirit and soul.
Obscurity shadows my psyche to chain all prospect of felicity.
I seek hope, I'm mounting thoughts of mischief to shadow rather in care.
In diaphanous sapphire night,
the drizzle of argentine moon dust,
the existential epithet of
dulcet melodic descencion,
adorns the pearl-laced waves
of the rolling sensuous sea,
spread seamlessly before me,
beyond the baroque shore,
where I saunter with me
in the corridor of the musical mind,
and follow the tune of soulful symphony.
The rain-washed sparkling sky
spreads the seamless spectrum
of my opulent dreams,
weaved as the tapestry of fantasy
with the lattice of chromatic imagery,
the surreal strings design the splendor
of the charismatic rainbow motif,
arching over the halcyon horizon
that beckons me to the concert of being,
and feel fascinated the vibrato of life.
In the stalled turbid times,
defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotive impulse
into lyrical crescendo of concerto.
On its sonorous whistling wings
I fly in the rhapsodic sky of sonata,
to the harmonic realm of afflatus,
and realize the nascent notion
that life is a song.
Ripples intrude in silence without cause,
strange since serpentine desire spirals rest,
so in witness mode, from our heart abode,
awareness self-aware, just looking on,
flows in and out of these dream forms with ease,
relinquishing thought that’s ego begot.
Attached to body-mind, heart is fear fraught,
blindly obeying an unknown God’s laws
but do what we will, we don’t get release
and thus life itself, begin to detest,
dooming our soul to drown in shame and scorn,
burdened lifelong thus, under ego’s load.
Finally one day, weary soul bellowed,
‘struggle and strife in life has come to naught,
so shifting from head to heart, now reborn,
may pristine presence escape from fear’s jaws,
acting no longer at ego’s behest,
freed once for all from the thinking disease’.
We may stand erect or walk on our knees,
free will choosing either high or low road
and all it takes is to treat life in jest,
refusing to be in illusions caught,
clinging no longer to whatever was,
for each breath we take, ushers a new dawn.
Nonchalance yawns, seeing fear forms begone,
whence mind of our heart begins to unfreeze
and in timeless time false self dies because
with turbid thoughts slowed, we flow in monk mode,
living authentically as we ought,
with joy embarking on our God search quest.
Vaporised soul has no load on its chest,
dancing playfully like a unicorn,
having reduced erst attachments to naught,
nurses no demons that it needs to please,
lets bliss set aflame every body node,
transcending space-time in the vibrant pause.
Oh hermit, we’re both the effect and cause
and once softened attention has mellowed,
carefree soul sees life as a divine tease.
The Perambulate
David J Walker
(Bach Cello Suite N1 in G Mischa Maisky)
What part of me
Was lost
or
Never was
I see
Refracted
reflections
In a turbid sky
I feel the
Dryness
Of a desert
Cracked in brown skin
I see a crown
Muddied
Bloodied
Without a head
I read a calendar
Faded
In a boarded up
Skelly station
I visit the home of
Discarded
Treasures
Called secondhand stores
I watch reruns of TV
Shows
I never watched
before
I remember every Teacher from
Elementary school
And forget most of the rest
On purpose
I drive an old car
I’ve always
Wanted
But could never afford
I married and
Buried myself
In a love sworn to
Last forever
I’ve lived a long
Life
And wanted more
Employing absolute freedom innate,
as the subject, the object and the means
the triad of energies shapes our fate,
with the light of Self veiled behind five screens,
the densest being our organic form,
God’s vital life breath enlivening dust,
entwined with mind, conjuring a thought storm,
bliss body and childlike heart that does trust,
being then the hurdles we need to cross,
to exit this maze though we’re in a daze,
by choosing to weed away instincts gross
and in pastures of love, joyfully graze.
The aim of the game is to feel contrast ~
Before rainfall, the sky is overcast
Before rainfall, the sky is overcast,
dark and long seems the night, opaquing light,
but knowing that destiny’s die is cast,
our mission here is to garner clear sight,
to which end, that here and now we ascend,
we search for that which does not shift with time,
voice of conscience, to which our ear we lend,
inking the void with love’s beauteous chime
and no sooner we do this, the mists clear,
ego takes a backseat, heart is upbeat,
with soul’s presence sensing that God is near,
felt as soundless thunder of His bliss beat.
We are the blockage, constrained by thought chains ~
First things first, we choose to cleanse our soul’s stains
First things first, we choose to cleanse our soul’s stains,
enabled by melding head with the heart,
eye equal whether moon waxes or wanes,
total emptiness where all fears depart,
that thus having chosen to surrender,
we relinquish control of life to God,
each life breath being beheld in wonder,
gentling our touch by giving love a nod,
whereupon then doing nothing at all,
merging with the all, we become the flame,
mind’s delusion dispelled in the bliss squall,
reclaiming light of Self, our claim to fame.
We transcend turbid storms of fickle fate ~
Employing absolute freedom innate
All alone
just by myself
I journey through life,
Many walk alongside
but all along I walk alone.
Slowly, steadily
at an even pace,
Resting but a wee while
Milestone after milestone
I walk but wearily
the well-trodden path of life,
Never straying afar
Never wading into the rough waters
Just anxious to get somewhere,
Just eager to find myself
a patch of cool shade away from this
searing heat of the mid-summer day.
No compass in hand
No polestar to guide
No beacon beckoning
No sails set
No winds of the sea
to steer the course
as I voyage through life
just hoping to drift rudderless
into some safe harbor someday.
Every now and then
I pause to look back
and see only my shadow
grudgingly tagging along,
and this winding road
relentlessly trailing behind.
The surrounding silence hangs
like a cold breath in the air
and the waves of the turbid waters
urge me on into its stygian depth.
~"Any New Free Verse Poem" contest
by Lu Loo
The moments that have passed, have been erased,
in as we’re always present here and now
and as breath by breath, we are by grace grazed,
vibrant, pristine presence, takes a small bow.
In midst of turbid storms, we remain still,
because we know we’re not this body-mind,
so since God breathes us, voids within will fill,
thus we simply play our role as assigned.
With the bliss current cascading within,
it’s evident we dwell in the moment,
with each heartbeat reborn, afresh begin,
melding with God’s power omnipotent.
Sleep is death and life is play, every day ~
We’ve long since granted love, the right of way