Indefinite Infinity in space and time aye doth toss,
Itself diffusely, enclosing entirety in the cosmos,
Only to baffle the stupid,spellbound ,eerie puzzle
Of forms and moulds that ever keep up the dazzle
Every little odd thing claims its own due existence ;
All great marks, flags and colours make no sense
And look like just little dunes and pits on the spot
Or if more, are spilled,broken and torn ones a lot;
Every living thing darts across to catch the other,
Feed on,feast on or enslave all that it doth gather
The lava that erupts from within the restless land
The lofty sweeps of storms and winds reprimand
The deviant excess that yields the froth and slag
As futile tertiaries do stem out of the empty brag !
Upon opening the door
the scent alone will cause you to faint
There is barely space to walk
Loose boxes and pallets
almost stack to the roof
as though ready to fall
Kitchen utensils remain unwashed
with pieces of broken glass
everywhere
the dust on the curtains
makes the color fade
How often you see a place
neglected by someone
who has no decency
and shows no concern
to correct any mistakes
broken chairs with missing legs
Knives without handles
unsanitary foodstuffs
with expirey dates
Bottles of soft drinks
under the cupboards
and loose clothing
wrapped in between
Infested by termites
with filth falling from the ceiling
with moulds becoming mountains
on the floor
swollen can foods ready to explode
plastic bottles split open
due to heat of the sun
The walls seem ready
to fall apart
while the locks seem
to have no life anymore
wealth prosperity abundance not synonymous
accumulation leads to conceit of rich
complex opulence
dualism anxiety
inferior-superior byzantines
wealth increases mentality illusions
fierce finance hoarding arise
this happens only in material plain
having does not guarantee prosperity
second always embrace aspects of being
relationship and active community —
when prosperity focused
simplicity flows, transparency results
philanthropic outlook gives
circulates
flourishes self and others
breath within breath clear
core strengthens
organically
prosperity, abundance a potency
in mentality
subtle vibrations move heart
slowed frequencies develop
transmuting third dimensional character
increases focus on spiritual as
starting point
abide quietly, knowing
abundance moves each sand grain
ear of wheat, water atom
every thread of chromosome
it moves in circles
live spirals in human flesh
giving back to family, community
ultimately to divine
fresh moulds are circulated
dances authentic
powers stability, serenity, peace
contentment births clarity
of godly purpose
______________________
Shall every dawn a gentle sculptor be,
That moulds the clay of thought with softest art?
As yonder flower, bathed in crystal sea.
Doth catch the light and teach the drooping heart.
From golden vein where dewdrops slowly trace
Their shinning path along the petal's curve ,
So doth the mind, in quiet, sacred space,
Absorb the strength that daily trials serve.
Teach it to trust the root that grips the earth,
Though tempests rage and shadows cloak the sky;
For in the bloom that drinks the morning's birth,
Lies power born where fragile droplets lie.
Thus shape thy soul as dawn's own hand designs--
Believe thine own bright strength , and claim what shines.
Pouring the verbose
into cracked moulds.
Pride teeters up close—
poets’ wisdom holds.
Soft dawn
no longer you
steam curls from my cup
palms pause on the chipped mug edge
still here
Each day
I set one down
memory moulds its shape
pen scratches, ink hardens slowly
again
Outside
light rain falls
waning petals drum the glass
shoes splash across stone puddles
lingering
Rooms learn
my slow outline
shelves echo my careful tread
clothes folded, dishes stacked, life
counterfeit
My breath
keeps a tally
poems slip forward past my hand
past the hands that fold, sweep, and lift
still on
In all that you do,
be it lie or truth,
do not mind to boo,
what despise your youth!
Do mind your liver,
as well as kidney,
if each does shiver,
while in cool Sydney.
Do not dump dirt there,
either to heat it,
or to shield, beware...
of stains so unfit!
Both are the cleanup,
that sieve not smoke,
but watery syrup,
that does rarely choke.
Meanwhile, enjoy folds
of gleaming desires,
which rough pleasure moulds...
by time, lust acquires.
What gladdened heart wants,
burning mindful wish,
to swim through their fonts...
and baptize your fish.
Long waited to tell,
how it feels been hot,
yet at ease in hell...
how good shooting shot!
Huh! hush! hah! hash! hmmm!
space silent prattles,
of skillful styles known.
what broad bed battles!
Also be aware,
that fun is peace theft,
claiming to be fair,
cum gains so bereft-
Of weird caregiving,
to heal broken heart,
yet unforgiving-
gains aimed as an art.
African treatments,
well cultured package,
of basic ailments,
with tested garbage.
High your sanity,
and low your ego.
all been vanity-
death's best amigo!
Oaring through the vast ocean of knowledge,
Tiding through currents with courage,
Diving deep to find pearls of wisdom,
Guiding with a prism through the kingdom.
Patience woven in each fabric,
Kindness poured in noble tactic.
Teachings unlock closed door,
Musings reveal so much more.
In the era of Google and AI,
Information at the fingertips, oh my!
A mentor is irreplaceable,
Moulds futures, so impeccable.
I remember being told
Since I started joining letters together
I was taught to fit them into words, sentences, stanzas or paragraphs
Let your creativity flow they said
How was i to do so?
Just jumble up the words in the voice of another
Be anything but elementary
Use bigger words, a flowery language
Make your writing eloquent and exquisite
No one cares what you are writing as long as you're filling pages
Your poems should have symmetry
And your prose should be lengthy
Kudos! You got the highest marks
Does it end there? Is this what I perspire for?
At what liberty am I to use my creativity
If I can't make new words of my own?
Why aren't I taught that?
Why must I always fit my voice into poetry or prose?
Why must my handwriting be cursive and my poems have a rhyme scheme?
Why must I always conform to these moulds?
He looks shy, timid, and withdrawn, as though he knows nothing.
Yet, astuteness whirls in him like monsoon floods in a dam.
He is an ace at intuitive thinking and judging.
He's a lively lion, though he looks like a little lamb.
He composes music. He plays it. He sings in gladness.
Fervour, fondness, and fluency flame in him like fire.
He is calm even in times when he sings in his sadness.
His strength, staunchness, dedication, and devotion inspire
He loves the complex; tests the untested; tries the untried.
Waves and vibes of optimism flow from them; chill and thrill all.
His thoughts, words, and actions never have any tinge of pride.
Between good, bad, great, and small beings, he doesn't build a wall.
He motivates each marred mind as he moulds his masterpiece.
There, in his soul break, seen or unseen, waves of cosmic peace
The bulbs sprouted
beneath the bright blue
umbrella sky. Line by
line they grew and grew
The lines bloomed into
a sweet fragrant place.
The groom shall
keep his name
and a world shall stand to
greet him
his future bride
will walk the aisle
then to meet him
there they'll stand
in the blooming
field to vow and kiss
and greet
they'll take thanks
and we'll all go there
to dine and dance
they'll leave for there
honeymoon
when the opportunity
creates a chance.
They hid behind the large fiberglass moulds stored in the
shed. she said they kissed there for hours.
They decided to marry that very day.
When stars ascend and illuminate moonlight,
he sits in the midst of childhood confusion,
bricks in ruby quartz, shape pearl-face of twilight,
crafting a castle from artistic vision
where secrets of his heart have unlocked windows;
letters and numbers, no longer mere shadows,
architecting comfort through mini figures
that masquerade ticking truth of lonely hours.
Dyslexic mind moulds an armored foundation,
lego became his true salvation through strife;
reflections of kismet, contrived with passion-
gilded courage framing the frailties of life,
tiny fingers breathe hope through rainbow colors,
whilst imagination carves profound pillars,
stacking the slanted canvas of dreams to rise,
as his strength towers beyond bluest of skies.
Though we take different roads,
We're not fragmented moulds,
Whole vessels we are,
Built by one Craftsman.
As we sojourn, we learn,
As we journey, we yearn,
Our views change,
Our aspirations range.
Our future self is seen in a mirror,
Cloaked by tomorrow,
We see the meadow,
As we pull apart the shadow.
We reach for an unseen hand,
To guide us through the fiery land,
Nature whispers His name.
The night takes us to the same.
August 4, 2023.
Life is a game so play it well
We create both heaven and hell
For we choose whatever unfolds
So let us then, 'twixt bliss beats dwell
Silent witness within beholds
How God in his loving hands holds
The flickering light of our soul
Breathing us gently, our life moulds
His touch alone can make us whole
Divine entwinement, our life's goal
Enabled when fickle heart's still
Restoring soul's light ego stole
Simply by surrendering will
Drenched in bliss mists, voids within fill
We're baptised by Holy Spirit
Making easy ascent uphill
23-November-2022
I am not strong
I fall in sin
But God's gracious
He hears my plea
He rescues me
When I repent
When I confess
I am human
I make mistakes
But God's patient
He moulds me slow
To His image
When I cry out
When I believe
I’m not perfect
I’m being shaped
But God’s mercies
Are new each morn
He heals my soul
When I kneel down
In repentance
I know I’m weak
I am tempted
But God loves me
He gave His Son
Jesus, for me
I look to Him
For forgiveness
I do not walk
In faith always
But God’s faithful
Never gives up
On me, His child,
When I ask Him
To cleanse my heart
I cling to His
Promise of life
I look to Him
When I fall down
He holds my hand
And pulls me up
He is my LORD.
01.29.2022
1 John 1:9 - If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
For Regina McIntosh's "Repent and Believe" contest
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