FACIAL EXPRESSIONS
averting
gaze
rendering
lively
sensations
restlessly
embarking
wandering
in
dramatic
visual
figments
seemingly
transparent
retrospective
augment
energy
to
scrutinise
but
barely
register
isolated
vigour
Traversing forests, deserts, and over plains, baked naked out in the sun,
forlorn, a child sobbing in the rain, or teardrops from heaven falling..,
Imagine just a moment, futility of time,
scrutinise what balance left for self, for humanity
In an age, a place where passion died,
then we ought not to fail but,
inexplicably blind - we do
Like teardrops falling from heaven, where we played, where we cried,
It is not unending this fate, It is not completely of our own undertaking, this given mortality..,
The strangest lie ever conceived - for ourselves by ourselves this odd endeavour,
Look for truth, push for truth, personal integrity cannot perish - ever,
And break the barriers of our lies,
Love seemed to always be the answer, study, practice the middle path,
so engage, indulge in life as best you can, avoid the karma of consequent wrath,
You have to give it, to receive it anyway, which is sufficient and sublime,
Fill your heart, don't destroy another's which is a sin,
Follow self, one's own instinct which is sufficient doctrine,
It's better by design
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
December 2003
My leaves never droop and my flowers stand high
I bloom through the year as the seasons pass by
I witness the daffodils stand proud and tall
I see warmer weather put paid to them all
The alliums follow, the marigolds too
Then plants that will flower the whole summer through
Impressive by some standards, you might agree
But none of these plants hold a candle to me
The roses come close as they bloom into fall
And still here I stand as I scrutinise all
I watch as the wind brings down apples and pears
I won’t drop my leaves but I see them drop theirs
For I was put here by a man with a spade
Because it gets hot and there isn’t much shade
And all year I brighten this spot where I’m placed
I’m plastic - and there’s no accounting for taste
It's something inconclusive
This feeling that I'm not
A perfect human specimen
Lukewarm compared to hot
I scrutinise the mirror
That I carry in my phone
It tells me of belonging
Yet I feel so far from home
I probably need rebuilding
Like a human Lego set
A different type of perfect
Is the answer I detect
A voice within me cries out
Don't change a single part
I love you as imperfect
'Cos you're perfect for my heart
Let's work on your perspective
Stand right here just next to me
Now tell yourself through my eyes
Not more perfect could you be
Sitting in solitude scrutinise stream
of breath surging spontaneously. Still
senses, simply survey the front of nose.
Steadily kundalini opens, spurts up.
Supernatural sensations surround.
Suddenly you sense separation from
body and behold your soul blissfully.
26.03.2021
Inspiration:
Contest Name : SAVOURING SOLITUDE IN 7 LINES
Sponsor : JCB Brul
Syllable count checked at PS syllables counter
Contest winner 1st position
I look in the mirror
What do I see
Not the face that used to be
Greying hair and double chin
Fat puffy cheeks that once were thin
Wrinkled face and furrowed brow
Even my ears are different somehow
As I look closer, to scrutinise
My neck and shoulders are thrice the size
They used to be before
My bosom pointed to the floor
As for my waist, where is that?
Gone forever, hidden by fat
My stomach that was flat and trim
Pokes straight out when I'm breathing in
I look in the mirror
What do I see?
Not the girl I used to be
I am not your archetypal sort
My views and beliefs are all self taught
Based around my own thoughts
Within my own conscious mind
Questioning all truths and beliefs
One thing that I have seen is nothing
Is ever what you think it to be
We accept to much compliantly
Accept what we are so blindly
We never seem to dig deeper to see
If what we are learning stands up to critical scrutiny
We must ask questions and look at sides and aspects fully
If we are to find the truth of all things
You cannot just fall into line like a sheep
Following every word that they preach
Accepting every thing that they teach
Abiding by every single policy
Because when others understand you just accept their bidding
They will feel they can do anything without you questioning
Then they will exploit you
Then they will abuse you
Because then they will believe that they have control over all you do
Stop and question everything
Don’t be the archetypal compliant being
Scrutinise all that you’re told
And question all the beliefs and teachings you’ve been sold
And you will see this is good for the soul.
What's in this Life?
It's nothing but conceited.
I'm afraid it will corrupt me
And make me obnoxious.
What's in this Life?
It's nothing but fraud,
Filled with stories and likes,
Statuses and calls.
Where is that simplicity?
The one that was once praised.
Which used to charm people,
And used to cut through every craze.
What is with the gazes?
That scrutinise your laces.
Why don't they understand?
Prada is worn by even the devil and his slaves!
Though Canton claims it’s communist, it’s not.
Beijing, like Belarus, breeds oligarchs.
There’s nobody alive who’s heard of Marx:
a rickshaw ride’s the only kind of trot.
Seek Mensheviks in Minsk, you’ll end with squat.
In Kursk are cadres countable as quarks,
and proles in Petrograd? Like hunting snarks.
It’s Putin’s perestroika, not Pol Pot.
Why did the whole thing vanish in thin air?
Why’s Sputnik spat on? Why is red so square?
We needn’t be complacent in the West.
There’s lots to learn within the Warsaw Waltz
for, as a tool to scrutinise the faults
of Christian Capital Conquest, it’s the best!
day kills night and night sleeps into day
death profits the earth trees
grow like a girl
girls eclipse the moon the first explosion
corpse paint sun red emotions
hide under the thick bushes
roots grow kisses the sky rain from the
leaves earth frozen spins on
its axis upside down
brown mixing with the black
hesitant
cats roared shadows in the river
shrunk
bloated faces unarming the ignorance
let us exchange our eyes n
scrutinise the secrets of their souls
submerge unto the unborn
to morrow
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