Dear Moon,
Each syllable of your name sings a melody so serene, I find the scarcity of my own tranquility immersing on the tip of my tongue.
The hum of my profound fragility twirls along the brittle attempts to submerge into the cloud of my thunderous delicacy.
The remnants of my soul crumble into a decaying, dispense of dust, floating through the basins of Earth’s hue.
The scent of you radiates off of the vex of my skin.
An ethereal blend of elegance, silver and the spirit of my distillation.
I find each celestial fragment of my embodiment thickening in the night sky, enveloping itself into the safety of the split space within the stars.
The green of Earth farewells the gleam of my cells.
Each one shines with the shimmering pride of a newfound purpose:
The stillness of perpetuity in lunate.
The hush of eternity in galactic saint.
And the appease of permanency in cosmic quaint.
A final exhale until my excess joins your divine rock of tragical, obscured beauty.
Your gravel brushes against my skin, so calamitously determined to test my devotion, oblivious to the ache my ashes fester for you.
Dear Moon, I call your name.
a forever mark
altered universe
rewrites history
permanent scarring
natural tattoo
powerful proof
marking event
cold nostalgia
permanency
here to stay
past mistake
memory
healed
sharp cut
scar
Released from captivity are the sons of Israel, and with tears of joy they are received by all. Today is given the name Peace 2025 indicating an ending of brutal war. Neither adversary was present, yet an extraordinary event. Can’t build a lasting peace with hate as a building material. Is it true tranquility is what awaits the world or a temporary armistice, a break in the storm—lingering disarray of what is already rubble and dust—a dystopian gray. What shall these torn nations find in an entanglement led by hyperbolic politicians, known for their vacant promises. An immovable permanency that shall lead to unity that was once in our illusive dreams, is it what it seems? Oh is it what it appears to be? What happens to a dream deferred, does it dry up like a raisin in the sun or bring a new bloom of blustering flowers from beneath the desert sands. What tempests are these that blow over deeply rooted in religion, in the eras, in the cradle of civilization.
Freed!
anticipation
Jewish son freedom now comes~
their wait exhausted
HATE’S MONGERING GRIEF
(A Couplet Quintet)
Hate attempting to destroy love,
Has yet to realize loves permanency:-
While Hell’s fires have their longevity,
They’re no match for the waters of love:-
Remember, Pontius did not wash hands with love,
As did Jesus with the washing of his brother’s feet:-
Buoyed and/or swimming in waters of love,
Will always surpass burning in the fires of hell:-
In every experience in the life we live,
Where love resides, hate cannot abide:-
”Existence, consciousness and bliss are the longings of the human heart.
“Ananda, bliss, is the contentment of heart attained by the ways and means suggested by the Savior, the Sat-Guru.
Chit, true consciousness, brings about the compete destruction of all troubles and the rise of all virtues.
Sat, existence, is attained by realization of the permanency of the soul.
These three qualities constitute the real nature of man.
All desires being fulfilled, and all miseries removed, the achievement of Paramartha (the highest goal) is made.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
quiescent heart ushers bliss
whence we see we’re all of this
form and the unmanifest
in God Who’s always at rest
in form we have sensations
caused by soundless vibrations
when our will to God we bend
in staid stillness we transcend
rest knowing conceptual
getting to the factual
enabled when we let go
of the maverick ego
we exist beyond space-time
where yet resounds bliss beat’s chime
truth of Self, simple and stark
is our true Self is God’s spark
When the wheels of time move and the birth-death cycle ceases
Piercing through perishables Atman gains permanency.
Dharma (righteousness), Artha (values), and Kama (eases)
Lead to mirthful Moksha (liberation) marvellously.
The thought of attaining this Moksha in me is endless.
Its thirst is like the thirst of a nomad in the desert.
Goes on for days and months; physique and psyche grow restless.
The feeling my soul undergoes pleasantly does hurt.
Like the owl of Athens, the phoenix, and the Sankofa
The wisely existence of the present and the future
The heavenly world, the surface world, and the underworld
Each spider-web-like realm is spun as though by a suture.
Fountains, streams, and rivers flow on till they reach the oceans.
Oceans, beyond all notions, withstand cosmic commotions.
Coloured thoughts
So many bad reports
Fighting my race
The group that forgot about the wonders of grace!
I trace their mistake in the face of jealousy
Hoping to help the new teachers entering the system and
Letting them know the danger of clicks in the staffroom
While at the same time exposing the misrepresentation
Of acting a certain way for a permanent post!
Teaching at a young age
I saw how teachers try to put you in a cage
So many clicks try to give you permanency as a teacher
With the hope that you will be a part of their gang!
Not liking them means no permanency
But this system is diabolical!
I reject my people’s attitude
Sitting with my pen
There are men and women from hell
Let me tell you a tale
The pale truth is that there are more
Gangs in the staffroom!
Gangs create gossip
A crime of our time and this
Prevent teachers from reaching their prime!
Judging my race in the staffroom
Coloured thoughts
So many bad reports
I trace their mistake in the face of jealousy
Hoping to help the new teachers entering the system and
Letting them know the danger of clicks in the staffroom
Copyright 2024
Sometimes there are people, places, and things we must revisit.
Some lines and letters of a pen, written with a need to re-edit,
are occasionally found difficult to rewrite or to erase. And even
If one succeeds in altering the lines, there will always be a trace.
This trace, even if invisible, will continue to render their permanency.
Like an oak, their roots are deep, and like a mountain their ascent is steep.
Like the indelible you, your lines cannot be erased and are here to stay.
So, go on being you. Make your mark and leave your lines beneath the
shadows of time. Set your own pace and don't make haste. But you owe
it to yourself and other mortals like you to finish the race.
043023PS
I am in transition,
with intentions of
building a new house.
Presently, I don't know
when I will have a sense
of permanency in housing.
In 53 years, I have moved 19 times.
From South to North;
From North to South;
From South to West;
From West to South Again.
While in the West, I raked
more leaves than a man had
a right to. Now retired, I think that
trees and the raking of leaves on
the next property will be rather limited.
I lived for more than 35 years in a city of trees.
My last home had 9 trees, and you might say
that I had a love-hate relationship with leaves.
I loved the shade they provided but hated when
they came falling at summer's end. I loved the fertilizer
they provided for my garden, but hated when they
came falling in Autumn. I loved the exercise I needed
from raking leaves but hated when they came falling in
the Fall. I loved the beauty I often observed in a single
leaf, but hated when the time came to rake them up.
090422PSCtest, Fall Flavors. Regina McIntosh
Theme Choice: Raking Leaves. NA
Contest 120422, Writing Challenge - X'd Poems Second Chance.
Constance La France. 4P
Hawaii's Kilauea volcano erupted,
as lava splashed over its cauldron!
The quiescent
Goddess awakes!
What once was a placid pool of liquid lava,
has morphed into a geyser of magma.
And it's ejecting molten plumes of rock
high into the atmosphere, lighting up the night.
When Gaia flows into the sea,
is she giving birth to the land?
Time contradicts;
permanency.
Nothing is permanent
Baby to Toddler,
Toddler to Child,
Child to Adolescence,
Adolescence to Adult,
Old age then death.
Appearance vanishes,
No permanency in-
the growth of human.
Nature is there,
It’s destruction acts,
Change features.
New features,
New growth.
It’s appearance exists,
Permanency expires.
Happiness, Sadness,
Failures, success,
Never last long.
It’s like illusion.
It teaches,
Nothing is born-
to stay for ever.
Be calm and composed.
Changing world,
Accept it.
New generation,
New views.
In the name of development,
Changes take place.
Realise no permanent -
existence for anything or anyone.
Expiry date is permanent-
for everyone and everything.
THEREFORE-
Be more tolerant.
Be more forgiving.
Be not judgemental.
Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPad
Speak gently of me in the twilight hour of grace
With kind words and thoughts, think of a better way
When I shall reach the finishing line of life’s race.
No stifled cries or keening when you see my face
Remember the joys and triumphs of fond yesterday
Speak softly of me in the twilight hour of grace.
Strange we oft forget that all must forfeit space
No mortal shall forever here in permanency stay
When I shall reach the finishing line of life’s race
Into the eternal gates of some ethereal place
Consider it right and proper that I should stray
Speak gently of me in the twilight hour of grace.
No somber music, please; marchers keep the pace
Bright-colored shirts; no suits of somber gray
When I shall reach the finishing line of life’s race.
Do not my "flawless" record at my wake deface
Yes, laugh, be happy that here on earth you play
Speak gently of me in the twilight hour of grace
When I shall reach the finishing line of life’s race.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's Poetry Contest
written May 27, 2021
HONORABLE MENTION
"Should I Cry or Laugh" Poetry Contest
All Poetry - September 19, 2021
Was this, what it was for?
This path of metaphor
Trails of similes and imagery
Summits of sun-tossed poetry
Have I run this marathon
Bulked up my artistic bond
So on pretty words, rely
To bear witness, as you die?
I would return it all, every single line
To feel your flesh warming mine
How weakly, pen and paper breaks
Under the toll of heaven's weight
Now alone, facing the permanency
Of forever, my tears take a knee
I surrender, I concede, I relent, I submit
To whatever relief belief can give it.
Maybe
If I say my prayers
Just right
Maybe
If I cleanse the sin
From my sight
Maybe
The stars
Will show where you are
Tonight.
7/12/20
It’s been a Year, plus One, and plus a Half!
And who’m I, that at Victory, I should weep?
To sing praise, and to kill the fatted calf –
So, I should do, and yet, instead, I sleep.
You’ve made of Self, a Permanency now,
You sit at His right hand before the King,
You walked from here to Heaven, Unbroken Vow
Was every moment stamped upon your Ring:
‘I will please God first!’ and you always did.
No other Spouse will satisfy me than
The One Who in my Secret Heart is hid!
And yet, Love never grew pale, weak or wan
Than Love for God, there is no greater Love
And you, my Joy, my Light, my Strength, my Dove!
TYRANNY
Self-centred narcissism -
Lying, cheating, stealing.
Uncaring interest only in money :
A monster all want to be rid of.
You can call it evil if you want, but it’s
Lurking inside ourselves; it’s part of us all because we’re all human.
Cutting the head off the snake urges it to grow another.
Yes, of course, this is idiocy personified.
What foolishness - debilitated by sex and money !
Yet these human traits are in me and you.
This idiocy is the evil seed in all of us.
Such an utterly bad purpose in life -
To cast doubt over the goodness of people
In the world inhabited by our children !
Even after the idiocy “goes” the world won’t be the same as it once was.
We have lost the feeling of permanency.
We have found there is no end to the misery and deceit of selfishness.
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