Short Paradoxical Poems

paradoxical
    concisely informative
    an oxymoron...

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There is fortune,
weather and climate,
is several,
paradoxical....

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Solve the impossible 
Love chaos, peace lives 
Unchain through restraint...

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PARADOXICAL DRONES


God’s drones love to death;
Putin’s drones drop hating death—
Paradoxical:-...

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We always move forward into our past,
Whether it be paradoxical or oxymoronic ;
Our future is only our past.......

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A well honed

Paradox

Results in laughter

Which clears the deck

Of all of  

Refined arguments

And questions......

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No two snowflakes are the same,
Each one is unique.
It’s the paradoxical similarities,
In their uniqueness
That adds to their mystique...

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Virgin Mary 
I am not
Running wild
Generating chaos.
Organised chaos, mind


*Inspired by Danielle White, Acrostic Astrology Contest...

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Time heals and destroys;
such a suttle of caregiver
brings forgetfulness
demonically toxic
 paradoxical monster.
...

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I gave thanks for everything on my plate,
but in my paradoxical state, 
I deeply regret
everything that I "et"
or is the pronunciation "ate"?...

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I wish I could eat black garlic
Its so paradoxical
something axiomatic 
eating sweetly caramelised
like an ironic joke
or a thwarted after dinner speech...

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Miracle

Stories can

Seem as

Paradoxical

Happenings..

No figuring out..

Stories attacked

By the rational

Consensus..yet

Suggesting 

Not-two.....

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No such thing..

No such thing as nothing

No such thing as everything

However

Nothing appearing as everything

Paradoxical..resonance..

Might make all the difference..!!...

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A paradoxical marriage
Of danger and innocence
Savagery and tenderness




Contest: Image Me a Poem
Sponsored by Mystic Rose
09/30/2017...

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when identity recedes 
there’s no one here
thus nothing to seek
yet the paradoxical truth is
we feel blissful and complete 

dwelling in the void thus 
we slowly rediscover 
light of our Self...

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Little is known when ignorance apparent
yet those that use it as a weapon arrant,
when implanting seeds of hate
with paradoxical bait,
surly to most of us oh so transparent.

© Harry J Horsman  2015...

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After

All the stories

Complexities and

Contexts

It comes down

To the paradoxical

Notion of

No separation with

Appearances 

Seeming to deny

That notion......

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Tiptoeing on eggshells
So the silence of mercy won’t be disturbed.
Hungry, I wait a tiny morsel.
Thirsty, I wait the morning dew.
Yet she looks,
Holding tight to her precious gift
That wills my soul
To keep yearning for it


Michael...

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This communication

Not sent or received

Resonates for some..

Seems to resonate 

When questions

Never seem answered:

A spontaneous ending  

Of sender and receiver

As paradoxical messages

Melt the need for

Any Q & A......

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The question of healing..

This

Is nothing being everything..

Everything is nothing

That's the paradoxical 

Resonance..the end of the

Belief of separation..so

Healing may consist of

Recognizing that

There is nothing to heal......

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as form we sense ego’s response
to the ebb and flow of shifting tides
we dwell in form and so must enagge
whilst recognising that life is but a dream
thus harbouring paradoxical emotions 
we are poised for action in surrender
knowing that what will be will be...

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"Appearance"

Seemingly a better

Word for expressing 

The not expressible 

No-separation..

Not-two appears as two..

But then:

Blue appears as red

Is the same paradoxical

Expression..and these

Might be unending..

And seem like Freedom......

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Stuck in the mental muck of my own thoughts.
Lost in the maze of my mind in a daze,
Things around appearing as in a haze.
The quicksand pulling me further in with every struggle.
Eventually becoming a vassal of my own thoughts,
Paradoxical for if the thoughts are mine,
Shouldn't I really be the chief?...

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A thing so paradoxical, sin
So all encompassing it’s grasp
A curse of eternal thirst
though we are drowning.
Our hands desperately scratching for a life raft
Secretly made of the same water we drown in,
Our hearts repulsed by the light
So we continue our daily floundering
Chasing a trail of crumbs we call “Hope”...

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A number’s value is relative to its use,
If you find $10 it would be good,
But, $100 is a golden goose.
As for age, when one’s young,
They wish they were older,
But, when one’s old,
They wish they were younger,
Of this apparent paradoxical enigma,
You need not bother,
Because at age 53,
You will never be older that your mother....

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