How long? Before he is 'completley gone?'
An accident? Removes the princ-iple..For
The ripples are rolling.' Many are moved.'
Under real complexity..Who can they loose?
Whats affordable.? Who would stand in those
Shoes.? Billions can't buy decency once so much
Is blued..' SIns of scarlet; golden lies, twelve
Million pounds, and suspect alubis..When will
The neck break.? Or that odd shot come? Maybe
A robbery.? What will be told.? Of whats not
Been done.?
Summer, winter, autumnal and vernal
Nature's tide freely flows through time eternal
As our days are with abandon shorn
Each year laid to rest is by nature reborn
So let the champagne flow this last night of December
To auld lang syne lift a glass so we may remember
With buoyant glee we'll greet the bright new dawn
As the new year struts in with dash and elan
White horses unsure of flight
they unfurl before dawn
they had their chance
alone in colours
The man of gentle voice
was only asking for a choice
They sang of emptiness
epoch making expanses
of self determinism
their forte
What was celebration years ago
people's hearts were to their birth
I walked and plagued my mind
west was born as an after thought
supplanting all others
to pleasant lands we betrothed
the winds came gently
october sneered in a umpirish manner
friends flaked the golden daffodils
refugees shorn of rights
to the dim lands
shorn to the apology of the east
now we are alone
nothing to think
Ceasing thinking, if so done,
is in truth coming undone,
wherein we see ego die,
that we wingless fly.
when we know the light is
but see it not
we are aware of separation
from truth of our being
denied and yet we may not seek
that that is innate to us
because the entity that seeks is not
rather ego is veil of ignorance
in passivity, silence and in activity, love
these transcendent aspects illumine us
erasing narrow identity
which when drops, truth is known
in direct sight
Ego shorn, here now reborn
By Unseeking Seeker
Ego shorn, here now reborn
Pruned gently by life’s lesson
Honed like a sheep’s curly horn
And empathy came as companion
Lower a pride to calm the tide
Allow Holy Spirit to grace and guide
For a thing that’s hard to swallow
Is just one big gulp for an ego
And for a sheared ego to be enhanced
For dignity’s intact-brace, no avalanche
Abide to what had been promised
For trust yields harmony and peace
July 11, 2022 6.41pm
What a zenith of stateliness is ego mine!
Illuminating my worth, strength and charm divine;
Positioned politely it does marvels many,
When sharpened like knife or sword, harms it brings plenty...!
Enriching the attributes of my inner mind,
Keeping me socially accepted and refined;
If clipped and trimmed and efficaciously maintained,
The purpose of my life, here on earth, is attained...!
Ego left on non-channelized, is a drunk ape,
Moving mind to motifs adverse, it does escape;
Ego shorn shines like summer sun dazzling with light,
The earth turns heaven for me; I act with foresight...!
If ego is pure, I am born in life and truth,
New baptism of heavenly waters does me sooth;
Life flows flawlessly fluent like crystal-clear streams,
Guilelessness, like constellation, within me gleams...!
11 July 2022
Ego shorn, here now reborn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
An incessant rage; a tormented home
Ego’s cruel tyranny reigns
An exiled vagrant cursed to roam
Not one shimmer of hope remains
Ego shorn, tormenting flames now subside
Cool winds arise as rivers flow
Blessed peace, with you I’ll reside
With your familiar and welcoming glow
Beyond all time, beyond all sorrow
All bonds to self-will sever
There is no more today and no more tomorrow
Just now’s glowing—forever
7/9/22
Ninth Place
Ego Shorn, Here Now-Reborn Poetry Contest
by Unseeking Seeker
Facing the Storm
Had my ego shorn and heart torn today
The reason, I am hesitant to say
I'll retain it to myself, no one else
But then, who on earth would care anyway.
On reflection someone out there does care
All one needs do is kneel down in prayer
Revealing one's heart, though the tears may start
To God who’s always aware of despair.
God helps to put things into perceptive
Auto rectified are inner conflicts
You, me and us - all we need is God's love
To sooth, reassure, fortify and fix.
So after nursing my bruised shorn ego
I silently made contact with the Lord
Prayed for the light to shine brightly tonight
My ego transcended, my heart it soared.
With heart intact, ego restored, reborn
I have will to weather the fiercest storm.
8th July 2022
*+*+*
Hong Kongs
Big pong
Five are tried
heads hooded
Hands tied
Wolf like packs
Claim a moral low
Truth can't bestow
The depth of facts
Now for all to know
Morals now obscene
As today is seen,
Humanity traded
Weave of life torn
Insanity in-braided
A very aged norm.'
Ego shorn unlike the hairy back of cancer
Taking all but life before even taking that
She hoped to be a mother some day and her
Life would be gone at 26 a hard fact
I look at her in a hat of fur
pink sweater that seems to soften
What a loss of life in her
Hearts sank lower than a coffin
But she was a believer
And her face seems to glow
The world didn’t know it needed her
Angelic virgin the last of a soul
She is found not lost in afterlife
Her familiar smile brightly shines
In heaven she is for us here a light
Illuminating for us all in teal time
Ego shorn here now reborn
An angel returns to her God
If only we could just defeat
Breast cancer that made her a star.
7/2/2022
Written for Ego Shorn Here Now Reborn Poetry Contest
Sponsor Unseeking Seeker
Post Covid, my scalp has been shedding
Hair covers the pillow and bedding
There’s tresses on the floor
If I lose any more
The prospect of baldness I’m dreading!
A great deal of poetic licence about hair in the bed but since I’ve had covid I’ve noticed strands of hair on the floor and also a friend has had the same thing happen
11/27/21
Sue loved to style her auburn hair,
and adorn it with a cute bow.
Then cancer struck, life’s so unfair -
treatment meant her long locks would go.
She hoped in time new hair would grow,
as baldness may cause folk to stare.
Sue now wears a pretty bandeau,
her cancer story I now share.
Checked with how many syllables
Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina
1/21/20
Posting before the verse is done,
the baby not quite born
Feelings chase the words I write
—the sheep not fully shorn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
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