Short Rancour Poems

Release rancour...pain 
Etched in heart ...in skin
Explodes ... harming
Indiscriminately
Dissipates in the ether....

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She is a complete woman 
Filled with elegance
Trod the landscape in grace
In her presence devoid of rancour
A blessing from mother-nature...

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borne of ignorance 
an incongruity arises
causing a ripple in the void
witnessed without judgment 
thus offering no anchor
for discord or rancour
staid silence smiles...

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Let us raise a toast
Exorcising the ghost
Fear-anger-desire
Love now our inner fire

Double check rancour
Onto which ego anchors
Emptiness magnetised
Divine bliss self realised

31-July-2020...

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Jagged like spurs, harshness of curs
Relying on instinct
Spewing slurs, heart’s radiance blurs
Roaming ego’s precinct

We flounder in stupor
Rabid desires anchor 
Enmeshment in rancour

Ragged
Jagged

11-September-2021
Quietus...

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Forgiveness issues plagues most souls
With family and friends
We suffer when ego controls 
Heart in darkness descends

Stop thought, ego begot
Rancour, a dark soul blot
Reclaim love, we forgot

Step in others shoes
Forgiveness issues

19-December-2021
Quietus ...

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Freedom from thought forms that anchor
Exhumes fear and desire
Bereft then of lust and rancour
We reclaim our soul’s fire

When thoughts cease, ego dies
Love takes us to new highs
Enabling rapture rise

Be thou self-taught
Freedom from thought

19-February-2023
Quietus ...

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each impulse
born pure
until coloured
by perception

feel it
see and know it
as it creeps upon us
surreptitiously 

both joy and pain
are but flickers
until magnified
by lower mind

bring it on
anything
we offer no anchor
for rancour

oh hermit
there is no one here
save a bliss mist
pulsating

20-September-2021...

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Thoughts singeing
Or love singing?

As we choose
Without excuse
Coordinate of preference 
Following the fragrance 
Of love divine
As we align
We provide no anchor
For hostility or rancour
Embracing the leper
As also the beggar
With a carefree unbound spirit
Judging neither fault nor merit
We are and we be
In our moment to moment entrée

Free

01-August-2020...

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I checked my last two poems
Then I searched for understanding
But then I realised the love

The poem allows for ignorance
The lack of understanding
The disobedience of language
Its rules and colons
Its commas or decision
That is my love

The ignoble is now the monarch
Where are the rules of language
They are lost in rancour
That the message is passed
There is my love...

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URBANE DISDAIN

Rapier wit, persiflage and banter
In repartee, an eloquent out-flanker
Faced with insult, virulence and rancour
His response could not be ‘insoucianter’

When attacked or critiqued
He will not be piqued 
Smooth as whisky antique:
These - his words cool and sleek

“You’ve a face like a snapper,
 Your sister’s a slapper,
 Your mother is built like a tanker”


....

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NO ANCHOR FOR RANCOUR

It’s loose, upset, resentful and bitter
And seeking solace, it’s not a quitter
Nowhere to stop and put down roots
And with burning rage it’s in cahoots
Maybe this grievance will never end
And into madness may just descend
It was a flame, now a burning ember
Such an insult one has to remember
Revenge will be the solemn pledge
As it smiles and sharpens the edge...

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Both desire and aversion,
cast on soul’s light aspersion,
egoic thought spirals of doom
allowing not bliss to zoom.

Habits we form, an anchor,
manifesting as rancour,
contracting joy in our heart,
till expectations depart.

Let interruptions delight,
for we see now by clear sight,
that earth life is but a test,
where love doth rise and fears rest.

18-August-2022...

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Listen to poem:

vexed to gall
no anchor for rancour remains
no safe harbor for grudges on crutches
nor bitterness born of regret's aftertaste
for we agreed to differ, with our bygones forgone
to move on to settle on a calmer, sheltered shore,
where rancour's chains and anchors hold fast no more
and we'll ride out the tempest with sails lee-bowed or on ashore
let it be, let it be,
let the rancour
be done!
...

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How may we as the witness
centred in emptiness 
in silence experience 
without thought interference 
each imbibed vibration 
hued by our perception
arising from memory imagery
recalled automatically
manifest involuntarily 
unless our hollowed out form
swathed in bliss warm
is throbbing in fullness 
free & above narrow rancour 
offering ego no anchor
in unbroken continuum 
devoid of delusion residuum 

15-October-2020...

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Long-lasting anger, bitterness, and spite
Sometimes can penetrate the heart and mind
To taint the joys of others' earned delight.
If left, can sink its anchor deep to find
Its permanent aversion- to be kind.
Then, like a ship that's firmly kedged at sea-
Entrapped by vicious waves and cannot flee,
That hate caged deep inside the aching heart,
Just eats away to never be set free.
Not till that anchor's pulled- may it depart.
...

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Sour grapes make for the most 
bitter wine.
I drink from it daily

Seeing lives I wish to lead
Moments I wish were mine
Familiarity breeds contempt
Brewing this hatred inside 
No longer happy for you
No longer living through you
But resenting you
Questioning, why you
Not me
Turning all these sweet things 
sour
Turning all this love into 
rancour
Turning these brown eyes, 
green

Filling my glass to the rim
I take another sip....

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Gently flows fond thoughts that be
Above the stones of malice
From heart to hand tis given free
As peace within beauty’s earthly chalice
Impeccable in its wildness and jubilee

Searching skies of tendered blue
Each cloud untouched does softy gleam
Mountains, rocks and rills ring true
Nature’s gift so flawlessly streams
Offering reverent peace as an anchor that renews


August 2, 2023

No Anchor for Rancour Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker...

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Anchors without rancour are rare today.
They don’t just report rumors, they dissect some.
Men like Brinkley and Huntley, anchors aweigh, 
anchors without rancour.

They steer clear of party-lines with no humdrum.
No newshawk floored CBS such a long stay 
as Walter Cronkite whose candor ranks as plumb. 

War correspondents, like Murrow kept at bay
and cleared away critics like so much pond scum.
Mark Levin at FOX deals much in the same way -
anchors without rancour....

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Persistency of grudge, grinding you down
Animosity causing permanent frown
Ill will causing bile to rise
Living like that isn't wise

Let it all go, float away on the breeze
Sail past the conflict with a sense of ease
Shed that weight of debilitating rancour
Freely move past it, resist setting anchor

Make peace, do your best to forgive and forget
Release all need to stress and fret
Don't permit yourself to be tethered to regret
There is always still time, it's not run out yet...

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Caution

Coal and violets strewn among your bone
Frosted the night, icy glaze of patient fire
Bending and breaking as a knead
Stammer and as tremor, shallots sake 
We play in the billiard righteous in wavery
Banner and bacon, in frivolous ache
And she flies high as one seed rivaling
A building stalking rancour
The peddling of this small river fish
Venturing in reference to a hone
A pyre of tigers eye the longest lead
The bones of balms are one ready
So like the turtle, wisely...

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Stirrings of heart in poems symbolised,
creations crafted as heartfelt emote,
oft by narrow minds cursorily sized,
since heart and head ride in different boats.
Nonchalant to criticism, we do float
as a bliss mist, in joyful innocence,
engaging not in this churlish parlance.
The jibes and taunts whizz by us harmlessly;
our centred presence in tranquil balance,
throbbing in rapture of love endlessly.

07-November-2020

Written for: ‘Judged By A Jury Of Your Peers Poetry Contest’...

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