Short Rasa Poems
Short Rasa Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rasa by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rasa by length and keyword.
black and white photos
with no black
they're blank
i blinked
and banked
my book
would not
be a
blanc album
record
of a full life
we never lived
You never knew you would make it till here,
Rising above the sky was never a chance
New beginnings don't end happily always
A true fighter at all times stands on the ground
Comfort never proved to be a true healer
You never knew you would make it to the ground.
This house is empty
without you
though you've never been
here to fill it.
I thought it would help
to find a place
you have never touched.
But all I am has
been touched
by you and there is
nowhere to go.
How can laughter echo
through a place
it has never sounded?
monotonous
pulsating
perceptions
of
formal
coherence
in
open-ended
fantastical
fragments
in
the hinterlands
of
ambivalence
gaps
hiatus
lacunae
errors
&contradictons
discarded
then
restored
an eclectic
mystery
of
ongoing
scepticism
faded
in
a surfeit
of
analogy
No, my child,
our soul is not a " tabula rasa" as some men of
learning want to make us believe
for
our Lord has
written on her volumes of His wisdom, that life's
experience, helps us to retrieve!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
27 January 2020
* Tabula rasa is the theory that our soul is a blank sheet of paper
that our experience writes upon.
Page upon daunting page;
Chaste white awaiting impression.
A vast archive, consisting only
Of untold stories,
And unsung songs.
From blank to blemished,
Vision must fill the void.
Meaning is born to idealism,
And to intellect.
Conception is the key.
Emaciation is only cured
When emancipation takes place.
Endless possibilites are written,
Upon the blank slate.
Emptiness evokes evolution.
TABULA RASA
A mystery, even to myself
I’m not an ogre nor an elf
Am I really a mouse that roared
My soul still remains unexplored
A mixture of thought and feelings
Matured somewhat in my dealings
Perhaps old wine that’s gently poured
My soul still remains unexplored
Enough of this hocus-pocus
I might suffer from poor focus
Yet when I looked down as I soared
My soul still remains unexplored