Praxis Poems | Examples

INCOHERENCE

         


The rich are getting richer,
the poor are getting poorer...
they call this meritocracy
and they still ask for and win votes...!

Echoes of Shared Heartbeat

Written: December 06, 2024
                          ___________________________

We were born into tribes
cinctured by bonds and praxis
welded by ambits and dictums
an eyeless chasm.

But scope a sounder view
just under the shimmering surface
and the outcome will be luculent
our parallels often outshine our oddities.

Our blood is crimson
all of us slipshod weeps
all of us longing for love
all of us fail to face our fears.

Our zeal fashion fetching flow
our souls seek seraphic symbiosis
we all itch for a warm welcome
and achieve startling accolades.

But, we build walls,
and draw lines in the sand,
we judge hinged on appearance,
and ignore the outstretched hand.

But if we may just foresee,
beyond the color of our skin,
and the language we spree,
we may find kin.

Because in the recesses of our souls
within our deep cores
all of us are noxious
rhapsodic around finding fulfillment.

So let's slip away,
from the chains of tribalism,
and gasp our kinships,
with love and hope.

For only then,
can we for real unite,
and transcend our differences,
Into a world of light.

Life's A Journey

Every big goal 
Starts with a single leap
Think about what's your role
Why it matters to you to jumpship
Sometimes, change is courage
Set small pace to achieve milestones
Running though slow is a sure advantage 
Along the way are fires and brimstones
It’s normal to face challenges
They’re part of the journey's praxis.

The Praxis

I always believe
Smiling doesn't need drill
It's panic relieve.

I And Me

Fighting against external enemies is natural.
Isn't my fight against myself a Herculean task?
Desires and drives that decrease me into an animal
In my predicament, my consciousness is in a mask.

Values and valuations, like heroes and villains, fight
Benumbed by existential angst, I resign to the fate
My conflicts between power, peace, and patience reach their height.
The poles of physique and psyche pull off in a hate state.

Discord between desires and deceit, like lane dividers
Divert my inner equilibrium from its axis
Even thick kith and kin seem out of the blue outsiders.
There's no logic between my philosophies and praxis.

As though unbridled, my horse of existence runs trackless.
I run fight battles within and lose hapless and helpless.

Rotate Consciousness Polarity

Rotation of consciousness, like grease in axis, 
Smoothens the meditation process in praxis; 
Yoga Nidra, like the sleep, relaxes each part,
Meditation, like music, turns an art of heart...!

Isn't hydrogen and oxygen form water?
Nitrogen with hydrogen Ammonia polar;
Ethanol or Lithium or sulphur oxide, 
Each by polar properties delightfully dyed...!

Nature gives unconditionally like mother,
Streams, hills and vales could be replaced by no other;
When soul says to fall into their flow if mind spurns,
In us polarity of grabbing highly burns...!

Lust, often, like CO2, extinguishes flame of love,
If both mingle love-life toward delight does shove; 
Surrender to the truth brings divine grace of peace,
Lies, conflicts and dominations leave none at ease...! 

Splits should give way to unity and lies to truth,
Anger, annoyance and fight should turn gum-less tooth;
Love and liking for virtues, should like palms-trees, thrive, 
Compassion, like ember in furnace, be alive...!


11 November 2022
Rotate consciousness polarity Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker

The Labyrinth of the Muse

There is no design wall to entrap the spirit
Inventiveness is born to last
free of prosody or syllable count
coordinated refrains hide bareness, a virtue
purity string belt for blooming worshippers
sleeping quietly in squatters' glades
who swoons poetry pads?

Fans will be amazed
that lauds syncopations of dazzling pleas
metaphors were constantly shaped and sealed
It's a sparse universe
for those who can't fly inside their walls.

Outside praxis, quill grows from seeds
creating a mental image not visible in a set
It's a voyage without doctrines.
the vibrations within rejuvenate the page
separate thoughts seek an upswing.

1st Place contest winner 


Written: March 16, 2022

A BRIAN STRAND 1090 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand

Roots and Blossoms

Earth's organisms patriotically
and yet matriarchally wise
wonder if both of these could be true:

1. Poverty and prejudice breed violence.
2. Capitalism and patriarchalism feed conflict.

If so,
is the first
or the second
history's enculturing root system?

And is the Other
our aggressively threatening
viral 
chronic
pandemic blossom of oppression?

EarthMothers wonder
if natural family empowering
is also spiritual species enlightening
cooperative Wisdom
inviting humane peace,
restoring divinely inspiring
expiring multicultural justice
more than monocultural JustUs!
means not you Others 
too

Mothers gather our global EarthTribe
with less dissonant debate praxis
preferring to invest
in more resilient dialogue practice
forest green
and sky blue communions 
instead of ancient cold gold
and dead red competitions.

Non Dwindling River

I was hovering across a brook that echoed slump.
I was inspiring a hoary praxis out of camp.
The river, with its vibrant species, reflects my pain.
It flows but never dwindles, unseen to our brain.

Somebody is endlessly esteeming in glances to you.
Living in this shining world is lenient with such subdue.
You utterly reach a staggering ability that we bear.
Grasp, you merely racked a seemly time spare.

This onslaught of life rebukes is not for your tastiness.
It is the most momentous implement in the universe. 
His opulence is being bequeathed to you powerfully.
There is something you recognize bearing out swiftly.

 When may I reckon to heed the ring doves whistling?
Rivers have burrowed their way into my soul pursuing.

Written; December 23, 2021

Eros

The sublime chorus of voices
Bring out a shamanistic praxis,
With brevity displayed,
With bravery supported.
How do you dance with your own destiny
When you are betwixt and between?
It becomes a sequence of inwardness,
And askesis of the will,
It manifests itself in resistance
As a precursor to a life-long battle,
And great wonders of exceptions
And concessions we allow in life.
I evade the ambivalent truths
With passion of a prophet,
And may I be I with a touch of divine, 
Every time,
And time again,
As a fable of life, and of death.
And may I be I, a particle of truth,
An instance of
Self-indiscretion that is opaque in eloquence
But transparent in stanzas
Of the living whether it’s challenging or ecstatic.
Reincarnate weeping of the Eros
Is an indication of a grim future,
Hissing whispers of a serpent
Tell of it in the depths of azure oceans,
Passing the message onto the sirens
Who surface in the shades of willow trees,
And may I be I as I watch them efflorescing
To the most phantasmic beauty
That makes the living free,
And the Eros alive and well.

Practice Makes Resilience

When I mention my morning meditation practice,
many respond with wishes and hopes
they could
would
should discipline themselves
to also join in to this practice
practice
praxis
until fragmented uncommunicative ego/ecosystems
finally get life resiliently realistically right
more than ego-narcissistically wrong.

But this,
I ego-think and eco-feel,
reverses what is a more centrally profound point
of ZeroZone cosmic-organic view.

Everyday life is already our active meditation
which we Win/Lose unpractice,
Business As Usual LoseLose dis-practice
praxis
until we hope to get us egoWin-ecoWin
interdependently healthy right
more than pathologically diseased wrong.

Growing Competing Anxieties

What is the best available treatment
for cancerous climates of anxiety?

Well, 
imagine you were born in a USA
time and place
when we knew only one retributive model of justice,
both internal theological punishment for being merely mortal
and external anti-ecological.

Now imagine you live in a Win/Win 
time and place
wherein Restorative Justice Peace Warriors
are also PermaCulturing Designers
of natural landscapes,
internal and external,
and spiritual-experiential-sensory climates,
internal and external,
nondually co-arising.

Best still-available long-term therapies
for growing Wonder and Awe
and Grace and Good Karma Climates,
long-term restorative health co-designers,
for democratic regenerative polyculturing outcome optimization
WinWin planning and strategics and praxis,
and not so much merely against
Republican DeGenerative MonoCultural Income Hoarding for Plutocrats,
dissonance,
disarray,
dismay,
decaying Win/Lose
toward Lose/Lose (0)Soul Trends,
4D RealTime double-binding nihilistic
denialism of Win/Win ego/ecotherapeutic 
sacred/secular co-equivalence,
cosmic cosmological co-incidence.

Interpreting Dreams and Nightmares

I have always had a fondness for the narrative of dreams.

Why this may be so
I could not speak.

I do recall a former life as a psych major
reading Freud's Interpretation of Dreams.

Recognizing his iconic topography
yet wondering about his training
in phylogeny,
predicting one's pre-adolescent healthy ego
and ecological restorations
of our species' cooperatively maturing habitat
throughout our multicultural
matriarchal-dominant rebirthing story.

I hope to feel
this timeless sacred narrative
of Earth's reweaving Sabbath,
regenerating Eden's therapeutic dreams
of polyculturing Paradise.

And, 
not quite so many patriarchal pathological nightmares
emerging shared paranoid and claustrophobic punishing vocations
so vulnerably naked without potential integrity,
somehow not yet patriarchally here
with matriarchal now,
co-arising.

I LeftBrain dominate with far too retributive
non-redistributive neglect of justice days
manifesting competitive WinLose assumptions,
haunted by LoseLose nightmares
of a merely secular mortality.
I RightBrain dream 
in restoratively manifest destinies toward WinWin
ecopolities of cooperative therapeutic praxis.

Absurdity

Is it a new phenomenon,
Known to the world
Through Beckett and Camus?
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Aegean.

Oedipus, Bhartrhari, Buddha—all,
Over a period of intense suffering,
Learnt to cope with it,
Each resorting to a different praxis.
King Dasaratha perhaps thought 
He knew—until a moment came,
When no knowledge,
No cut-and-dried theory,
No ready-made solution
Could possibly help.
He succumbed.

Kierkegaard could see.
Husserl could show.
Eliot could feel.
Frankl could cope with.
Christ had known.

—	R. V. Ram

Colors In the Dark

Tic toc tic toc ticing 
Round I go nowhere new
Innocent encircling 
Stoical hitherto
Tic toc ta... ... Where is time?
Decoupling tic from toc
Freedom, is that a crime?
Tic dont skip He's time jock
On the wall on their wrist
Infamous tic don't miss

Low middle upper class
Reap what your parent's sows
Our birth grouped by known mass
Compounded bias grows
A zealous radical 
Thought is, equality?
Real or abstractional
Freeman's dichotomy
God creates and gives breath
Best used by date stamps death


Planets orbit the sun
Also round it's axis
Constant can't be out run
Ascertained through praxis
However how bout, you?
Isn't change an option
Forge your change in hue, a
Rainbow draws[back] attraction 
Like an archer, to pierce
The hearts who weary in fierce

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