Short Goalposts Poems

shifting goalposts
desires hosted
by ghosts guarded...

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Goalposts shift, as we chase rainbows
Bemused by our own mind
Moment to moment, hunger grows
Until with love aligned

Trauma bonding with lust
Choosing pathways unjust
Love reservoir goes bust

Soul adrift
Goalposts shift

21-August-2021
Quietus...

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the road runner raced within the lucid dream
looking for something to satisfy its heart
goalposts shifted in the desire stream
shapeshifting fears did not depart

as time flowed on body aged
the exhausted soul chose to be still
recognising it had been by ego upstaged
invoking grace it surrendered to God its will...

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our fickle desire
pursuing shifting goalposts
cause of suffering

fear mirrors desire
contracting our consciousness 
cause of delusion

detached nonchalance 
aspect embrace-hold-release
vibrant emptiness 

when head melds with heart 
bliss continuum ingrained
in both form and void

23-February-2021...

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Hark shifting goalposts 
moved by ego’s ghosts,
named fear and desire,
we ourselves did sire.

Choosing then monk mode,
bliss our soul’s abode,
in the here and now,
if we but allow.

Nothing need be done;
God and we are one.
Conscience is His voice,
to listen, our choice.

14-September-2022...

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We feel God’s hand placed right over our head,
His grace in-pouring through the fontanel
and as we are in this manner spoon-fed,
bliss rapture rises boding all is well.
There’s no urgency for soul to ascend,
for there remain no goalposts to defend,
as breath by breath we behold in surprise,
the dance divine taking us to new highs.
...

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Slipping into dark night’s restful sleep
We trust God we will awake at dawn
Readied for a consciousness leap

Fearing not onset of stupor’s yawn
Recognising play of the Gunas three
Layer by layer ego cravings are sawn 

Upon getting head and heart to agree
Soul ascends as will to God we bend
No longer are we tied to mind’s tree

As our ear to whispers of love we lend
There remain no goalposts to defend...

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Bound by chains of gold,
soul growth’s put on hold.
Earth life plot thickens 
as lust thrust quickens.

Prisoner of fear,
heart’s desires hold dear,
we thus trauma bond;
with ego abscond.

In dream world’s movie,
what will be will be,
yet as goalposts shift,
we find soul’s adrift.

Head and heart when linked,
with hues of love inked,
we become the light,
shining within bright.

12-May-2022...

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i kicked a ball and watched it work.the goal posts went bezerk from the idea of 
watching the ball work.the sudden move,the spin,all went in the goalpost

next thing i know a county cop wants to talk to me,wants to know why im recreatin 
on my own time on city property.

guessing its his job,see,i told him i was off today and he said i was off in the 
head.musta been my poetry man,or  my kick.coulda been the talking 
goalposts,guess ill never know....

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