Short Turbid Poems
Short Turbid Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Turbid by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Turbid by length and keyword.
In the rampant wave’s roar
Turbid, murky and furious
I see the cosmic light glows
Surrounding everywhere.
Nel ruggito del'onda
Torbida e furibonda
Brilla la luce cosmica
Che ovunque mi circonda.
when faced with unjust ugliness
we forget the truth of oneness
we react but then soon recover
swathed once again in bliss shower
momentary is our weakness
16-August-2021
turbid thoughts leave us in the lurch
end then the search, on bliss beats perch
the past is dead, future unknown
‘tis here now where love seeds are sown
rekindle then, heart’s innocence
beholding soul’s luminescence
Too many kabobs
to skewer
plus bone-dry ribs.
Me? I’ll stay
with pink lemonade
and watch
the turbid sky
and watch
the stars reload
And so study
serious stockades a
stick up their collective
She may or may not
have sensed her ovulation;
neither did the men
whose heads
capriciously turned.
Their eyes pursuing
as she opened a path
through the turbid smoke
in the shadily lit club.
She sat down slowly;
her dance card empty.
Cyclic joy and pain
Caused by attachment
Manifest as fear
Mirrored by desire
Spawned by turbid thought
On cessation
Head melds with heart
Heart lotus blooms
Rainbow in view
Path now known
Surrender
Stoop to rise
We be
As we
Choose
10-March-2021
Palate of my art
A blank page
So dark
The velvet blackness
Of naught
Caught my frustrations
So fraught
With turbid
Thought
To free oneself
Of constructed
Tort
To feel
My self
My pen
My thoughts
Express it
With self-colour
An Echo
To bounce
Upon
This page
Feel each flicker, as heart contracts
Owing to aversion
For desires too, feeble form reacts
Turbid agitation
The mindful eye sees all
Nestled in a bliss squall
Responding to His call
Subtle whisper
Feel each flicker
03-October-2021
Quietus
ripples in an anticipated sequence
in as a mismatch in time
if causing thoughts to go viral
are quietened betwixt bliss beat’s chime
such facilitations that are granted
require our eye to be single
that turbid winds impact not the flame
in heart of Self where pheromones mingle
It seems
A sadness creeping in
An errant breeze
Bereft of ocean scent
More an idle odor
Mercilessly meandering
Tingeing all
With its turbid touch
Recalling
From the depth of joy
A hidden angst
A faded scar-like distress
Painless
Yet
Somehow
Calling attention
To itself
Self-fulfilling prophecy dawns
Misaligned heart’s desire
Do we know not yet, ego cons
We face then outcomes dire
We did spawn Frankenstein
To destiny resign
Now our choice, laugh or whine
Turbid thought cacophony
Self-fulfilling prophecy
01-December-2021
Quietus
Ferality
Brutality
Remorse
Gratification
The gains
Illusionary
Repression
Sublimation
Ego games
Specious logic
Self hypnosis
Delusion
Web of thoughts
Gluey desire
Myriad fears
Habit patterns
A limitation
Self-imposed
Fear of freedom
Thus keeps us
Bound
20-May-2021
I stood at the center and
Started to draw a circle,
Moving along a circular track with my moon
That grew from half to full, day by day.
And everything that was muddled with
The smoke from the pyre of dead fishes
That used to play in the turbid water, stored inside that circle, is
Clear again in that full moon.
The turbid octopus
arises from the depths
of the heart,
as from the sea.
The affections were distracted
a day before, laughing,
and dreams, sensing danger,
steered around the hollow,
as a snorkeler avoids
a treacherous shelf.
But the monster,
often stronger,
becomes more intense,
sapping life and hope,
immobilizing its prey.
Quiet flows at dawn the turbid river
Thu’ the trenched terrace of thicket
The morning mist of mystique aura
Rises from sunshine splashed water.
In wobbling water wades weary angler
The fishing line flung for the rare catch
Hopes a trick will emerge out of his hat
Hook a fish soon for company at dinner.
May 7, 2019
Photo chosen : # 3.
Stroke Victim
Time is Brain
F.A.S.T. learners gain
Bleeping Busy Bees
Busy Robo- apians
Censoring Homo- sapiens
Turbid Transparency
Dark money donors
Opaque Senate owners
Turtle Hurdles
Baby sea turtles
Face huge hurdles
Take Responsibility
Stay in front
Bear the brunt
Checks and Balances
One man's solution
Trumps the Constitution?
as we journey through life
through many a turbid storm
silence and stillness ushers
divine bliss currents warm
oscillations gradually dampen
as we shift towards the centre
these are silent subtle shifts
bubbling bliss our heart enters
negating nothing embracing this-ness
as head melds into our heart
vibrant void of silence all pervading
fulcrum where bliss ignition starts
15-February 2021
In the country, we do not have city shine,
we have luster,
we have the glimmer of voles,
the fumes of turbid crawlers
under the slow burn of iridescent woods.
We who night-watch
see from sunken waters,
gather light from luminous cisterns.
We understand black;
how it sheens the clapper claw.
On the pitch of the concealed
a country ken leads us to a quickened vision,
we see as a horse sees
fleeing from a fire breathing barn.
praying for opportunity
to share loving feeling
immersed in turbid duality
delusion love concealing
illusion of separation
of identity from the source
blocks divine illumination
so we fall to urgings coarse
the dilemma self created
indulging in the ephemeral
stagnation has us sedated
our life thus tragic-comical
to exit the hypnotic trance
all that we need to do
is to flow in gentle innocence
divine pulse within renew
30-August-2020
Don't laugh at turbid winter-wine brewed by farmers,
In an abundant year there is plenty of food for visitors.
The pathway along hills seems to run into a dead end,
There pops up a village amidst the willows and flowers.
Dressed in ancient simplicity, playing the flute and drum,
The farmers are rehearsing for the Spring Ritual Prayers.
I wish I could henceforward visit the village anytime,
Walking with a stick and calling on the austere villagers.
(Tran.)
Liken the fontanel as the tenth door,
which soon after birth, slowly becomes closed,
whence blinded from truth, we feel not our core,
immersed in hypnotic trance self-imposed,
floundering about through life indisposed.
Freedom’s enabled when we pierce the crown,
which occurs when our turbid thoughts calm down
and heart purified, ego is decried,
that love entwined, in stream of bliss we drown,
in the vast void glide, amazed and wide eyed.
Thoughts turbid & uncontrollable
So why make complex the simple
If lower mind wishes to play, let it
With but one condition: don’t let it sit
No sooner thought grasps an object
We send it off on another quest
Thus thought being unable to stagnate
Quietens on it’s own into stillness sedate
It is not the movement of thought per say
That cause any divine connect delay
Rather it is its tendency to grow roots
Which we need to stop, getting it to reboot
16-August-2020