Self Seeking Poems

I hang on hiding pain in heart

Pain held in heart I’m hanging on,
Amidst life’s grave gloom, going on.

World vicarious watch as if fun,
From cracked mirror I’m peeping on.

Smoke billows from my burning heart,
I battle but it’s blazing on.

How self-seeking can be this world!
Friends as foes askance looking on.

My woes are out to wear me out,
Though hurt my heart keeps humming on.	 
_________________________
Ghazal |20.07.2025| pain, heart, world, woes

Greed governs some love

Humans, long a self-seeking breed,
Oft concoct love foreseeing need.
With tender grass lush green 
Does a butcher fatten
His sheep in his own selfish greed.
___________________
Translation |37.01.2025|
 Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. This verse says that man by nature is a self-seeking breed. Keeping in mind a selfish motive, a butcher concocts false love and fattens his sheep with tender grass. But it is only to fetch better price in the market, not for any altruistic love. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows (sandhi duly separated):

Kaarya-apekshee  janah praayah, 
preetim aavishkaroti alam |
Lobha-arthee shaundikah shashpaih, 
mesham pushnaati peshalaih ||204||

Armageddon, for evil'

If you are disillusioned use what you can, put not your trust in self-seeking men.' Or women for that,.In all events will not
Do.!! We need Jesus.' And also do our neighbours this
Is (the whole world through!) If you are honest to you
Look at the signs upon this earth.' And call to the only
One..Who is faithfull and true.' In princes and leaders
In presidents and kings in pharmica a type of magic.'
What are they intending to bring? Look back over four
Years from this two thousand twenty twenty five to see

Only Jesus put all the confusion aside.' Pray in your
Waking, as you drive before you sleep.' As you awake
Call upon Him.' To return! to remove all evil; to wash
Humanity in his blood that dissolves all sin.'

the circle of evil

the circle of evil 


Christianity is embedded in Europe's mind
alas, it is losing its grip under the influence
of other religions and heathen life
The clerics have nothing to offer, only
platitude and sex abuse behind glorious 
brocade and oily words.
Love, charity, and forgiveness are 
forgotten in the melee of free expression 
We are served a TV that lacks humor
banality seeking to mollify the masses
Comedy is no longer ironic but is about
using filthy words to harvest laughter
Politicians are self-seeking and corrupt 
even when wrong,  go on telling lies
Newspapers, too, served as gospel truth
because we have lost the real meaning
which is about respect and love
peace and forgiveness; the rest is humbug 
spoken from pulpits, in churches, that
has lost all credibility

Minus Identity Who Am I

The existential bird in the supreme sky 
flies abandoned with the rhythm of swan song.
The tapestry of time wraps with eternity hue
the innate immortality essence, 
etched for the uniqueness of being. 

The winsome whisper of the extant wind
rustles the lively lotus petals of perpetuity. 
In solemn space of sanguine solitude of mind
deranged clamor subsides 
in the eroded silent sanctum of entity.

Beneath the worn out layers of individuality,
thousand suns shine perennially in blissful bay.
In the seraphic sky of divine perception,
ageless consciousness dances 
with the rays of nirvana.

I am then the immutable hymn of sanctified soul,
echoing through the melodic strata of consciousness.
The devout mantra intoned in the temple of heart, 
resonates with the symphony 
of the sacred spirit indomitable.

I am the essence of connected oneness,
transcend the self-seeking perimeter of identity.
The cosmic creator of resounding silence of eternity
makes my awakened soul proclaim the divine decree,
I am His absolute definition.

Delusion

The assigned unseen lamp hidden somewhere, 
someone kindles for you when you’re made to arrive.
Unperceived, it creates reflective beam of contemplation,
illumines the pathway of your destined journey.

The free will you make as the mental mural of pride, 
the lamp makes it ostensibly self-radiant, 
enmeshing your soul within the maze of formidable ego, 
that designs the deviant road you travel undisciplined. 

On the way you pick up some flowers of wilderness,
someone graciously blossoms only for you,
but you think these are epitome of your self-made image, 
worthy of affirmative celebration of self-seeking euphoria. 

On the way you tread on the trail of anguish thorns, 
you think you would pave a new amiable track soon, 
and won’t suffer on the stinging journey for long,
but the perpetual torment lingers on. 

The disowned lamp then gets extinguished by itself,
in depth of darkness you lose awareness unrestrained.
The willful psyche clings to the sense of disarrayed self,
and gets confined within the bubble of delusion.

I Am

In the live network of intricate unassailable design,
layer on layer, the latticed mind is stratified,
the spiritual strata of the innate awareness align,
unique sagacious patterns of perception are unified.

Many existential attributes of sole distinction gain 
access to the sanctum of the secret psychic recess,
transcend undefined the fading limits of joy and pain, 
as fluid sense merge with the sea of absolute consciousness. 

In my journey within as an introspective explorer,
I discern the enlightened soul in the sanctuary of bliss, 
suffusing me with the supreme essence of divinity,
I get liberated from the dungeon of the corporeal abyss.

I am then the immutable hymn of the sanctified soul,
echoing through the melodic strata of consciousness.
The devout mantra intoned in the temple of the heart, 
resonates with the symphony of the sacred spirit.

I am the shared essence of the connected oneness,
transcending the self-seeking perimeter of individuality.
The cosmic creator of the resounding silence of eternity
makes my awakened soul proclaim the divine decree I am He.

Love, be not proud

Humbly allowed
myself proud-- of
endowed graces

my will is free
pray for me, for
holy, pure mind

purity's crown
makes some frown, but
i'm down with it

my heart agrees
with Kolbe's, that
we please her heart

Immaculate,
sorrows split, if
admit to sins

humbling my pride
don't just hide, from
God's side of Love

friends are okay
unless they-- lead
astray my soul




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no account of wrongs. Love takes no pleasure in evil, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 
(1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

Consciousness Correction

The turning wheel of time stirs up the dust of disarray,
that settles in the crumbling cauldron of disordered life.
In the maiming moments of disdained dejection,
truth tumbles in the mélange of disorienting chaos. 

Under the scorching blaze of the envy flame,
the desiccated soul suffers parched and forsaken,
searches for the niche of sanguinity in self-belief
to get the self-seeking shade of hope in frustration.

The sapling of irresistible longing rooted deep in desire,
nurtured in the receptive core of the longing heart,
blossoms the flower of passionate hedonism,
luring the being with the illusion of impulsive urge.

In the disorderly squall of divesting dismay,
the mangled mind is disheveled to a dishabille state,
tries to snap the chords of captivating greed,  
the psychic cascade of unconcern carries them away. 

Chasing the mirage across the dunes of desolation,
the hope of taking life to the oasis disappears deluded.
As the beleaguering storm of disenchantment blows, 
consciousness takes the correction course to undo despair.

Wisdom

Within the clasping orbit of the craving life 
I gravitate toward the self-seeking centre,
get sucked into the black hole of ego, 
the survival struggle consumes me.

In the anchorless drift of the mundane mind, 
detached from the principled roots
by the dislodging drive of sequential desire,
untamed instincts envelope my senses.

As the needle of ethical compass breaks,
the vortex of  emotions drags my mind
into the transient tide of the changing times,
the inner voice of conscience echoes.

Beneath the surface of mortal perception,
my mind builds the sensual images 
with the contours of new insight,
on the fleeting canvas of awareness. 

Rising from the dismal abyss of agony,
I see the light of wisdom illumine the soul,
attain the sublime state of consciousness,
discern instantly the divine harmony.

I abandon the ego trapped in the psychic web,
strive to evaluate the meaning of existence
in the scale of soul’s quotient of spiritual wisdom,
the portal then opens to the sanctum of profound bliss.

____________

April 16, 2023
Contest : A Wisdom Download
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker

Two Thousand and Twenty Two

Four Billion years or thereabouts
Earth has orbited its appointed place
Slowly and surely developing into
A safe and hospitable living space 

What a strange year this has been
Year Two Thousand and Twenty Two
You seem to have bern so long passing
And I’m so glad to see the back of you.
A year of invasion and Warfare
Of bullies flexing their might
Seeming secure in their belief
That might alone is right.

A year of political spectres
Of crooks, spivs and ghouls
Carelessly showing to the world we
Are lead by blatant self seeking fools.
The greedy and avaricious seem
To want, and take, more and more
Leaving even less for the peasants
To fight and grub for off the floor.

The rich man in his castle still,
Security light and guard at his gate,
More and more decrying the excesses
Of the battered remnant Welfare State.
So goodbye twenty twenty two 
Heaven only knows what we’ll see,
More of the same and worse I think, when  
They usher in year Twenty Twenty Three.

Four thousand years give a century or two 
That’s just about as long as it’s taken
For man to abuse Earth’s delicate balance 
And leave it stunned and badly shaken

Mature Love

Once, there was a love between a man and his GOD.
The man forsook him when God failed to please him.
There was once a love between a man and his WIFE
Until the wife refused to be the servant of her husband.
There was once a love between a man and his DOG
Until his dog was injured in an illegal dog fight.
There was once a love between a father and a SON
Until the son demanded his inheritance and departed.
That was when the father's love also departed. Lastly,
There was once a love between a man and his GIRLFRIEND
Until she became pregnant and refused to have an abortion. 
It's all too clear to see that each man's love was immature.
Each man's love thrived on the benefits that he alone received
From the relationship. They never realized that it wasn't really love.
They never understood that love is not like a faucet to be turned
On or off at will, depending on the suitability of one's own taste*.

101422PSCtest, Once There Was a Love. JCB Brul. 2P
*1 Corinthians 13:5a NIV: It does not dishonor others,
it is not self-seeking,

The Light

He sought The Light of the World
an ancient quest,
yet was easily distracted,
too inclined to dally
with shadows of his own making.

He still sought.
It was his only way out
while still here.

One early morning,
too weary to even think
his mind turned-off
its self-seeking flashlight.

"My God” he thought,
“I have gone spiritually blind!"

Then of a sudden, he began to shine.

God Made Everything Unique

God Made Everything Unique
Miracle Man
4-28-2022

Each sunrise and sunset is quite unique,
the snowflake also holds much mystique.

Also people we meet throughout our day,
will be different from us in some unique way.

When on idiosyncrasies of others we fixate, 
if only in thought we might berate. 

Each person has a niche where he/she belongs,
and “love keeps no records of our wrongs”.

1 Corinthians 13:5
5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Bard Battles

[bard1]
To wit, sans pearl, mere grit and sand,
an irritant, sebaceous cyst,
expressive as a mongrel’s gland,
self-seeking randy churlish tryst!

[bard2]
Eccentric heel’s ethos raised grand,
eschews finesse, rough skewers gist,
a numpty dumpty, brillig panned,
thou frontal lob, now dully bris’d!

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