(amar sakal dukher pradip)
Thistle Thal, My reverie floral, beyond the valley and greenery, handheld delight, the sun
Incomplete ritualistic my pain, meditation to be fulfilled in completion
Whence the day is done and the returning birds are back to the nest, very own.Bestowed
Dusk of the twilight hue heard the bell, still afterglow dispersing the beset, even though
Then my last log will be my solitary feast, the fire of the divine, my life
A festive fire will have my pliant knead, and a plethora of my remnants chime!
.Shinangan through shenandoah , knew us through delighted knickknack, canopy
The fullest brim is tossing and turning to greet you whence wilmette, wills met a noon
The festive fire will lit up starlight one by one , aurora borealis, the kindled and the boon
They’all a rise together to the superlative, in chorus, a hymn, on the eve, beseeching
The flight of a song , the sunset, and the reason, and the resilient passion of yearning !
September came in like a sombre whirlwind,
Eclipsing the deadening blossoms of summer.
Pallid moonlight coats glistening frost,
That coats the last strands of grass holding on.
Embers of a pagan pyre swirl through the air,
Mass ritualistic hymns ring across realms,
Breaching otherworldly barriers,
Evoking sacred cosmic rites,
Resurrecting scattered souls.
Falling bodies collapse to the slaughter,
As one soul is given in exchange for another.
Loss begets loss;
Lightning suddenly surges through the skies,
Signalling completion of an unholy ritual.
i love you ...
to the cold marrow, i do
beastess of black
the art of you, ritualistic, raw
all your names wrap me
savage, winged and wondrous …
tempt me, tepid dragon
i dream of the pursuit
wrought in timeless space
wispy, winding the world
biting my tongue with bitter citrus
or dripping with rhythmic, parenthetical
perfection …
dance for me -
break at the score, residue-righteous
engendered non-generically
come, venerated venom
and strike true -
crimp, shine, bubble, breathe
sing my veins ...
hot, horrid harlot of the haggard heart
neuron-nasty and aflame
a receptor conflagration, reborn
divinely devilish …
i - Mad Molly's sullied son -
curse you with all i know
and woo you with my innocence, lost
i nail you to a cross
of considerations and care
only to worship your ruin
the lion's paw to your Androcles, merciful
acid tears to wash your feet
and blood …
to bind.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 7, 2021; update November 24, 2023
Part II
What would have happened to million’s fate,
If Subedar Ramji had failed, thee to set.
In 1891’s simmering heat of April
Born true nationalist Phule’s pupil.
Being motherless boy, thee set sails,
Thee had to bear brunt of devilish veils.
Under the curse of being an outcaste,
Hiding behind were satanic verses vast.
Fighting stiffly with ethnic bigotry,
Thee maintained disciplined gallantry.
Thee was not allowed a sip to drink life source,
from glossy vessels tainted by ritualistic force.
Passing exams with flying colours,
Thee received scholarship armours.
Baroda Maharaja fuelled thy intellectual leap,
Thus, begun stripping naked waists cheap.
Guys,do you know what is an oath?
An oath is a solemn promise or assurance Do oath and vow is similar? No,a vow is merely a personal pledge
But an oath is a promise made before the head
Nowadays ,oath is merely a declaration or it may be a verbal promise only
If you take an oath you will follow it at any cost Do you know, a liar is always lavish of oaths Parliamentarians take oath before the constitution. Will they swear to exercise their functions with dignity, conscience, independence, integrity and humanity ? Where there is a mental reservation. There's an official oath.
Religious dogma, be it any faith,
any handed down belief,
any once sincere doctrine
now has but one purpose
and that is to
hide God from yourself.
By doing so
it controls your freedom
of self-inquiry,
demands that your blind faith
is better than seeing, than knowing.
Religion wants you to seek
but never find,
to follow a ritualistic way
and be awed by the path ahead
but never take that path.
All religions have great truths in them,
but the greatest truths are deliberately buried
too deep for the faithful to find.
until they come to see
that crumbling wall around their own power of knowing,
That those notions of hell and sin
are a religiosity created only by fear.
If you have to,
respectfully, reverentially,
break that doctrinal wall down,
and not one ancient brick at a time
but in one hammer blow
of adamantine of insight.
religion
ritualistic, judgmental
kneeling, praying, seeking
fear, shame, compassion, acceptance
connecting, feeling, recognising
childlike, pristine
spirituality
18-January-2023
Delightful Diamante Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Sans ego, who are we
“All that is, is God-consciousness ~
Dance divine, in sheer playfulness “
____________________________
Presupposing separation from God,
we thus eclipse the light by our own hand,
playing mind games until heart’s lust has thawed,
whereupon soul’s freed, right here where we stand.
We’re here on earth, to imbibe love by touch,
suspending judgment and narrow belief,
letting go of ritualistic crutch,
making room within, granting soul relief.
Let love distil each and every action,
before it’s release as thought, word or deed,
mindfully calming ego’s reaction,
which is self-serving, spawning fear and greed.
Strange is this God-search game of hide and seek
His abode’s in our heart ~ take a sneak peek
23-June-2022
I am the queen of self destruction.
Ritualistic Razor sharp scrutiny of my reflection -
constantly spewing hate at my mid-section,
whilst effortlessly faking the pursuit of perfection.
A crumbled up heart beckons restitution in the midst
of train-wrecked relationships,
ruinous friendships,
and crumbled up to do lists,
in white-knuckled fists.
The essence of happiness remains a mere mirage
for one who is an expert in self-sabotage.
With nothing but empty reminders sprayed out on a dreary collage,
it is exhausting living an ever consuming facade.
Procrastinated plans worship at my feet,
whilst brooding and bellowing as I hit snooze on repeat.
Impatiently my ambitions take a seat,
before wisely declaring undeniable defeat.
Daily my mind’s army assumes a familiar avoidant stance.
Love and hate engage, again, in a repetitive dance,
between an avoidant retreat and a stagnant advance.
It is clear: as long as I sit on the throne of
self-destruction,
for me… for being whole..
there will not be another chance..
The lattice of the flowing life so very complex
Spreads on the plateau of time of no ends
Woven in a fashion beyond comprehension
Needs the handiwork of an intelligent designer.
In search of the unseen creator of destiny
Hoping to be saved from the storm in the sea of life
We follow the ritualistic paths of different religions
To worship the common God for His benign blessings.
When the religion becomes the pious way of life
It teaches us to surrender to the Almighty for solace.
The creator engraves His indelible image within us
Enveloped by the introspective mindfulness
Travelling inward on the undefined spiritual path
We discover the eternal core of our essence (Atman).
The pristine petals of the lotus of insight unfurl
In the serene soul illumined by the godly glow
It enters the sanctum of divine consciousness
Finds the mortal agony melt in the pool of peace.
Striving in their own way to get the grace of God
The two paths converge in search of the eternal truth
May 22, 2021
Contest : Religion Or Spirituality
Sponsor : Unseeking Seeker
i love you ...
to the cold marrow, i do
beastess of black
the art of you, ritualistic, raw
all your names wrap me, winged and wondrous
tempt me, tepid, dragon
i dream of the chase ... in timeless space
wispy, winding the world
biting my tongue with a bitter citrus
or dripping with rhythmic, parenthetical perfection
dance for me ...
break at the score, residue-righteous
engendered non-generically
come, venerated venom, and strike true
crimp, shine, bubble, breathe
sing my veins ...
hot, horrid whore of the haggard heart
neuron-nasty and aflame
a receptor conflagration, divinely devilish
i - Mad Molly's bastard son -
curse you with all i know
and woo you with my innocence, lost
i nail you to a cross of considerations and care
only to worship your ruin
the lion's paw to your Androcles, merciful
acid tears to wash your feet ...
blood to bind.
In disingenuous defenseless dreams of the damned have wept
They awaken within sempiternal solitudes that they have slept
They're above all asseveration of tenacious tears they accept
For inside patricentric passage of time becomes illogically inept
The axiomatic assembly of manqué multitudes in pacifistic plight
Their damnation dorms of diversity desecrated upon a fatal finite
Humankind’s humility a harbinger of ritualistic recrudescent rite
And sorrowful sins syndicate with vigorous velocity and appetite
Their altruistic ambient soul tangled torn beyond comprehension
Desolate deprived within a deceitful delight of a demons detention
Isolated and audaciously abandoned onto the grasp of evil intention
May love levitate their tragic turmoil and align them with ascension.
...play the video first...then listen to the poem any time after that...
...Reprise from March.28.2018...
March.07.2020
Winged Warrior
Not for Contest
It's a wonder,
indeed it is
her hand in yours, not his.
The rhythmic beating of your heart
desperate to speak but dare not
for fear of betrayal fearing the start,
that love is more than just a chemical spark
and every glance you take
is but a ritualistic dance and embrace faked
that plays a game of hide and seek
worthy of attempts and repeats
each that may or may not be
beginnings of the romance trot.
Suites of expression creep along the chasms of existence
gnashing and clawing, the ineptitudes persevere for glory
take the high road, end up on the low road just because
you couldn’t remind your self the story was simply not true
caught in the corner, webs of lies disseminating from your lips
denial of the ritualistic behaviors known forever more as you
prisons of silence, spectrums of all colors make the inane pretty
dressed up and no place to go except the free way, only the free way
has toll roads these days...hijacked for existence, held hostage by self
there’s no where to go where the truth doesn’t actually matter
forget about the truth...not the Truth...just your truth because you
ran out of that road a long while ago...deni–I– all over and under
weeping a moment until drought reached your heart
your persistence amazes me...dogged persistence is what I call it
rumors of dead things walking through the night separate you from
the life you intend to live...surround yourself by pretensions of something
other than you...feel better...look better...live longer...live stronger...
fragile is the flower opening in the storm...watch out for lightning!
What is love?
A visual reverence of well-intended discretionary words,
some ritualistic veneration of the beat of heart and soul,
a manufactured display of hunger and amourousness
an embattled vehemence in thirst quenching lust,
the renderings of innate ensuing warmth and trust,
the disquietude of hope-filled dreams and fantasies surfacing,
a fervidness burning the skin, blushing the face, pounding throbs,
that perpetual effervescence that draws one to another
lost in the eye of the unspoken word of love simply being all it is.
For Lu Loo's contest, free verse on love, using the following words:
reverence veneration hunger
amourousness vehemence thirst
disquietude fervidnness
perpetual effervescence
2/7/19
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