We traverse life seeking coloured feathers
desire silk gowns like fools dancing around
sand grains become ashes spoiling heather
stand we sapped witnesses to contexts found
Halfway we perceive abundant date palms
recall that we are here to live as whole
Almighty requesting kindness and alms
pass infernos with ignorant blind moles
Banish states of limbo lust and deceit
masses of souls circling as if in traps
immoderate are actions though seem neat
wade not in oblivion, find due maps
piano frequencies in harmonies
you will perceive, rejoicing amid ease
Maps
Arise appearing
To make sense
Of the unknowable
Territory~
But the territory is
Totality including all
Maps~~
We used to keep maps
In our home and the car
To navigate when
We were traveling far.
Most were AAA issued;
We got them for free
For New York or wherever
Our next trip would be.
When planning a journey,
We’d highlight the route
So, aside from construction,
There’d be no dispute.
We relied on our maps
Until GPS came,
Then a voice gave directions;
It wasn’t the same.
With WAZE, there are updates
Of traffic, we’re told,
So our routes can be switched
With no maps to unfold.
Our stash, which once helped us
Avoid getting lost
Has, except for some strays,
Been, quite candidly, tossed.
.They think they've got us neatly fooled,By global maps and globes in school.But look outside, it's plain to see,The ground is flat as it can be.If we were spinning out in space,We’d all be flying off the place.The water would just spill right out,Of every lake and water spout.And don't get started on the moon,Or NASA’s giant space balloon.They hide the ice wall at the edge,With penguins guarding on the ledge.It’s just a giant dinner plate,No spinning core or heavy weight.So drop the math and look outside,There is no curve for them to hide.
There were some mysterious maps
I found lying down unfolded on the deck
of an ancient secluded mailboat
in the middle of the shallow water banks
As I took a glance at these maps
I was unable to find my way home
I saw no traces of any islands, cays,
blueholes, pristine seashores,
pineyards, coppice forests
banana holes nor mangroves insight
to plot on these unusual slice of poster papers
as they were all distant memories
which faded from the surface of the Earth
all I saw was nothing but blank maps
crammed with endless layers
of oceans, banks, bights and sounds
without any given names charted on every end
as if my homeland was evaporated away
into the depths of the Bermuda Triangle
Sometimes
the non dual exposure
settles into fixities
with words holding
and detections of
slight separation
brings on the
orthodoxy police~
That seems the
downside without
the "discovery" that
words do not map
the Territory~~
I am a world traveller.
I am a reputable cartographer and explorer.
I grand-fathered Google Maps.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
I have drawn the maps of my sorrow, with borders of ochre and ash,
rivers of longing winding like silver snakes toward the empty seas of unfulfilled dreams,
the valley of abandoned thoughts, a cemetery of withered promises,
and the desert of sighs, its sand made of words
that shatter like glass under the weight of silence.
In the center, a mausoleum of dreams sculpted in marble,
they shine enclosed in the amber of memory,
the winds erode them like a silent sculptor,
the inevitability of forgetting etched into stone,
a dance of time drawing spirals over memories.
I wander through this landscape like a drifting shadow,
traveling through tunnels of the soul,
where every corner hides an echo
of a lost love, a whisper of yearning.
When night draws its curtain over thoughts,
everything becomes a tomb of silence,
and in that darkness, only I remain,
a guardian of dreams that hide their brilliance,
a sentinel of a universe that will no longer bloom.
Thus, I continue to carve my path,
through a universe of melancholy and falling stars,
seeking light among the dense shadows,
in a never-ending journey,
through the uncharted maps of my soul.
Reality those waves defy,
asleep you can finally fly;
Sea is heated by a cold sky
sweet lullaby, sweet lullaby;
Feathers decorating whitecaps
the fence holding you in snaps;
No need to hold onto old maps
bridges collapse, bridges collapse.
Locations for everyone to know truth!
I realise just how old I am, when I don't even know how facebook works,
And I don't have any idea how someone twirks.
I read maps from an atlas book,
I don't like google and the way it looks.
I like to have cash, I like the way it feels,
But I guess it does make it easier to steal.
I want a theatre ticket that can be held and be seen,
Instead of showing it on your mobile screen.
But as life goes on and time passes by,
I guess just to keep up I will have to try.
I have been accused
(And perhaps it's rightly so)
Of having simply no idea
How to get from go to whoa
I must confess that's true
I so easily get lost
My inner sense of direction
Gets it wires crossed
I hesitate too long
When turning left or right
Landmarks keep on moving
Often changing overnight
Fear not, I have the answer
For those who can relate
Your confidence will rise
And your stress levels abate
As you grip the steering wheel
About to nervously collapse
A disembodied voice speaks -
Thank God for Google maps
Word
Selection is
Apparently the
Map of the
World for the
Individual..
Separation's
Terms from
Struggles of
Daily survival..
Or more settled
Words of science
Religion or
Contemplation..
Searching for
The better word..
All are stories
Maps of separation
Things of beauty
And of horror..
May we speak of
Escape..??
** THE GLORIES NEAR **
Here! The Glories have arrived from
afar..as far as east from west.
The Glories come riding mists
To lead us leaping over our discontent;
over waves lost from their beaches,
their glimmers grayed,and moon sunken.
The Glories bring our maps to
The Exquisite: our longing, our desire.
But, the routes, so hard to decipher…
We are slow pioneers of the holy-All!
May the Glories set aflame our spines,
Running currents to thrill us up from
Our sleeping, our trances, our
Vagaries, so we may again seek and see…
———————————————————————————-
(c)sally young Eslinger 1/5/22.
Glory to God
Silhouetted
Houses trimmed
in sapphire sky indigo
Deep in midnight
Diamonds strewn
across heaven's vault
Holes in regions
Where star die afar
Space between and seen
Sacred secret streets
Down endless maps
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