Unlike all other species on the Earth
We do not explore and move and spread out
Based on necessity or compulsion.
No, we do so simply because it’s there.
It is our nature, given us at birth.
We are restless unless we move about.
Our wild, restless hearts fuel our propulsion,
And onward and forward do we repair.
Our unquiet hearts are surely a sign
Of our heavenly home for which we pine.
Cosmic Adventure
There, upon the launchpad, the countdown proceeds
as bolts explode, and the umbilical apparatus releases,
and massive amounts of energy bursts from engine ignition
to create propulsion thrust and lift-off reaction
for the vehicle’s escape from Earth’s gravitational attraction
in sequential stages, skyrocketing into the orbital trajectory
of slingshot phenomenon to the universe of cosmic adventure,
likened to explorers in olden days piercing the unknown aperture.
Through the porthole, astronauts marvel at the spectacular scenery
as they watch their country on the blue planet disappear gradually.
Emotionally restrained, the astronauts resume their mission,
methodically pushing buttons and recording observations
in a four-dimensional continuum relativity experience,
limited in scope by the laws of scientific ingenuity.
My heart breaks
over his indifference.
He sweeps past me
as though I am nothing -
nothing,
as though I am invisible,
eyes brimming with hope,
with love.
My heart breaks.
Perhaps I am invisible to Him.
Perhaps I am unimportant.
Yet to me, he is the opposite.
Oh my,
this bloody boy -
my only propulsion.
My heart shatters,
shatters in pieces.
My eyes burn,
burn from tears -
tears without end,
dropping from my eyes
like a silent English shower.
My heart shatters.
I see it now:
he made it clear.
I am nothing.
He doesn’t care.
He never did.
I was foolish…
My foolish heart is broken.
I believed in love.
He wrote me -
but why?
He cared.
I know it to be so.
Yet he fooled me.
My foolish heart is broken.
Never to be fixed.
I give you my word,
you, otherworldly boy -
I will never fall for it,
fall for this insidious feeling,
other fools call love.
If innocence presumption
Prohibits the assumption
Then Federal Intelligence
Provides the Introduction
Enforced with the propulsion
That dealing with corruption
Has factors of the that
That innocence presumption
To Justice the obstruction
The object does determine
As guilty hypocrite
On level definitions
Concerned with composite
And thus investigation
Of the administration
For damage to the judgement
Occurs this fine INIT
CON,
the CONSOLIDATION!
Fed,
BURRO.
Information.
Coming around the bend to find the atmosphere so clear
Seeing that off in the distance fields of diamonds growing near
No one holds onto this string; It flies oblivious to all forms of fear
Kiting through heavens gate falling a million lightning tears
Time holds no grip on them and will never be able to in a millenia years
Clouds are unique in that way; that no one controls or steers
The human soul on fire allows propulsion deep into the nights' sky
But succumb they will not to the same oppressor as you or I;
If all yielded to which we wield within our time, we too shall fly
Fishing Holiday
A kingfisher sitting on the old harbour wall
Listening to the geese from the mud flats call
I'm here for some sea fishing until after the thaw
Braced against the north wind so cold and raw
No Kamikaze diving into a frozen pond
The quickest route through to a life beyond
I need to cut a hole to fish with rod and line
To catch minnows like an Eskimo for my tea time
A sound of crunching from the lake what can it be
I fly over the marsh to take a look and see
Two swans are on the salt lagoon a winter wonderland
I watch from the sluice gate where the water is damned
The leaders pushing through the thick sea ice
Slowly inching forward, heroic self-sacrifice
Jet propulsion is required, web feet redesigned
Whilst tail end Charlie swims serenely behind
The Buntings skating through the reeds ask me to stay
But I've frost bitten feathers and don't want to play
The brochure promised beaches and sunshine every day
I am flying further south for my next Seaside holiday
Keyhaven Marshes, 17th January 2023
White and pure
Light and soft
The swan shows strength
As launched aloft
Gliding smooth
Across the lake
Majestic king
Or disguised fake
He swims so gently
Yet below sight
The propulsion needed
Take all his might.
Analogous with calm
And chaos in equal measure
The swan hoodwinks us all
In his apparent pace of leisure.
Mediocrity, Excellence two shores
Waves of Efforts connecting shores
Surf on tide, swim against flow of ocean
Be ashore leveraging art of propulsion
Mediocrity, a reality, almost repulsive
Excellence, a rarity, almost elusive
Race of Excellence, making man a rat
Each gnawing at other to breast the tape
Peaks exist because of bottom layers
Underneath layers vital for peak to be there
Peak below feet, mark of Excellence pursuit
Feet dragging at layers, a mediocre feat
Peak and layer, complementary pair
Live with conviction, dash of dare
Peak accommodates just few
If at layer, gear up, stir up, be amongst few
-----------------------------------------------------------------
© Dr Hitendra Mehta
As damned territorial as lion,
On this, kind of unflinching Iron.
Not just on a single occasion
Mention made of his sure location…
Ex-Occupant of Lord God’s Heaven
After acting worse than a Raven;
From it flushed out and he found Earth
And there had been before Creative Birth.
No regrets, though, over Expulsion
On Earth ‘A Flier’ in propulsion
The same chaining for Christ‘s Temptation
Christ muteness on this “Attestation.’’
On Earth, seeker of crowd for snares,
A man there for damage, poor repairs
Also the Non-Trodden Wilderness
Unhappily yielding wildness
Lot after Sodom, Xenophobia
That could just suppress Claustrophobia,
So, that Daughter might sleep with Dad
And The Hapless Old Guy gives a Lad…
My poems are ghost-written.
I scarcely identify the visitants
Mingling with heedless shadows.
Poltergeists outfit my words.
Though we converse,
I hardly know them,
And seldom fathom
Their prophecies.
My poems hemorrhage
In convulsive madness
Like the speaker in tongues,
Unleashing foreboding fragments,
That I might discern some divination.
But my autonomous hands move on
Planchettes over enigmatic spirit boards
For which I act only as outlet.
My poems are ghost-written.
My stanzas are tent revivals arrayed
Down the page with ritual dance.
Faith healers shout and wail,
bending my lines
wending a trail of travail,
They conjure all specters to avail.
My poems are ghost-written.
My words breathe and writhe.
They live as cells squirming for life.
Yet, inflections within them always
Mutter from another,
A propulsion between impression and
Arousal.
knowledge
puzzles lifted
cherishing rising thoughts
propulsion to improvement
wisdom
Cinquain written August 5/21
For Brian Strand Contest, 4 or 5 line poem
restless contemplation
girl sits on a swing
her gaze fixed
comely, resolute
formatting future
she pumps the air
full swing propulsion
leans back, legs outstretched
long hair snakes the ground
body pushing harder, higher
wanting feet to bleed the clouds
like magic happening
to soar out of grimy
to tuck into the sky's release
to slip from the brute inside
his slab of words and deeds
who taunts, "You're just a girl!"
as he covers her mouth with his hand
she wants to jump off
better not
the gravel wounds
she skids to a stop
a small life wedged into cracks
sullen glances
at horizons dislocated
rummaging thoughts
to step out of drowning
hoping her tide leaves no traces
dread weight portends a churning belly-ache
the day sinking ......
relentless countdown to the frowning hours
before the night of fitful sleep awakes disturbed
that day is now here ...... too soon the unwelcome light
numb propulsion, impending imminent
door opening ......
pounding heart, cold palms sweat and muscles tense
room full of others with turning eyes, closing ranks
see inside myself ...... projected back, enquiring looks
I am they, all watching and they are right
feedback feeding ......
clenched fist focus on self-fulfilling fool
someone speaks to me! to me! I feel the blood surge
as flushed cheeks inflame ...... and amplify my distress
slight surprise, recoil, rebuffed dismissal
stranded squirming ......
cornered, hurried walk to any doorway
blunder into the venue hall, seats at the back
anonymity ...... breathe once more, escape route planned
steal away, out of sight, try to regroup
reprocessing ......
unravelled depressing disappointment
sucker punched, floored again, selfish whimper
referee above...... whispers " get over yourself "
“spell of maya, induces a stupor
luminous self, fallen caricature”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pouring our aliveness into the dream,
that each pulse therein we vividly feel,
delusional agenda ego streams,
hypnotic illusions having appeal,
compelling us by contraction, to kneel.
Our choiceless choice to create a dream world,
wherein amidst our own thought forms we curl,
per say a play of innocence harmless
but for indulgence in cravings unfurled;
in stagnation, feeling separateness.
Duality pulse births polarity,
wax and wane, attraction and propulsion;
our anxiety and serenity,
between which there is void of cessation.
Dwell there, oh hermit, in meditation!
We are and be as our attention flows,
stupor by pausing, self inflicted blow,
for otherwise, presence is always free,
imbibing divine bliss in stillness slow,
enjoying gift of life, with childlike glee!
23-December-2020
Two drifting hearts
pining to be one,
hover on the convergent surge
of the winds of yearning.
Once fused, the primal passion
drives their propulsion,
taking them to the carnal heights
of cosmic longing,
consummated in celestial silence.
At the acme of surreal desire
of magnetic craving,
the private spaces of the two bodies
implode to disappear.
Their mingled souls
then turn into the singularity
suspended in deep outer space
where in astral ballet
they sway entwined.
The blended bodies
of sculpted silhouette,
framed against the diffused glow
of the crescent moon,
float to the edge of nebular clouds,
away from the intangible allure
of the blue planet,
that couldn’t thwart
the space odyssey of love.
January 25, 2020
Contest : Picture Prompt
Sponsor : Brenda Chiri
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