Short Playoff Poems

It's not the quarterback's fault
If his team was given salt
Missed chances and dropped balls
Which created some walls
The other team went on full assault...

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between the feral
and the ethereal
lust and love
playoff

soul watches
with bated breath

but the fact there's a game on
signals it's yet work in progress

11-December-2022...

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They had one more chance to prevail.
He must catch this throw or they fail.
So excited the crowd
Got really quite loud
His run moved the siz-a-mic scale.





For Royal's contest...

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Parallel lines of attention,
one being urge of the ego,
the other loosening tension,
preferring soulful musings slow,
playoff between chaos and bliss;
in both cases, a deep abyss.

If we feed the demon of lust,
trampling over those who are meek,
soul’s light ebbs due to acts unjust
and our auric field becomes weak
but if our head and heart align,
here and now we become divine.

At the crossroads what do we choose;
ego’s ruse or soul’s blissful muse?...

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five fingers
five toes
five senses

plotting patterns
for amusement
becomes a belief
and in time bondage

instead let’s just feel 
the pulse dual 
pausing in the bardo
where polarities dissolve
before they interchange

sunset
breath
heartbeat
a thought
waves

the playoff between 
head and heart
lust and love
joy and sorrow

feeling not thinking
melding with the flow 
without seeking
or anticipation
each breath virgin
life renews
from source
inseparable from us...

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