Fiction evolves from reality.
Even Truth in stranger than Fiction
Again Fiction has the power
to initiate real stories.
Fiction is the reflection of Reality
and vice. Versa.
The measure of power of Fiction
depends to what intensity
it can influence readers.
The more the reader is engrossed
or impressed, more powerful is the Fiction.
Reality and Fiction apparently resemble
two poles of a magnet, attracting one another.
If Fiction be the shadow of Truth,
Truth is Shadowed by Fiction
Life is not a Continuous Function -
But contains chapters of discrete function
as several happenstances
producing Fiction of ruthless Truth
Two quacks walking side by side
one looking one way, the other the other
disturbingly similar, they could be one
and never the twain shall meet...
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
When did I start believing in reincarnation?
When it was presented to me in fiction.
Truth is reality itself is stranger than fiction.
Atoms are only a made-concrete projection.
When did I come to reach this conclusion?
When I finally see we co-create the simulation.
All is light and sound, all of it is an illusion.
"Illu" as in illuminated, "sion," as in confusion.
We're all victims of our own subtle delusion
That we are less than God's ultimate fusion.
When we realize we are one, we'll reach union.
We'll see God is all of us if we just look within.
We exist eternally, always worthy of affection,
But at times we must earn through reflection.
So when did I start believing in reincarnation?
When I seen cycles of time through divination.
a growing indifference
roses and thorns will not release me
I try to get along, ‘doesn’t come easy
it isn't the money or the phony power play
y' just don't want me in the most familiar way
I've seen your eyes with a new distance
that won't be denied, a growing indiff'rence
oh yes, oh my
poor me, and mine
no burning rubber, 'hardly rollin' slow
talk to your lover, go, tell him, let him know
that I've seen your eyes, stranger than fiction
that won’t be defined, a growing indiff'rence
I guess, love resigned
poor me, and mine
now, from a distance
a growing indiff'rence
change clothes and go
poor me, change clothes and mine
and go, and mine
it has been said that truth is stranger than fiction
so perhaps what’s affirmed could be true
although it seems unlikely
ludicrous in fact
that by controlling breath
and visualising grace of imaginary deities
along with chanting mantras and holding postures …
we can realise God
who we know not
have never seen
not even felt
yet who can tell
let us leave the door ajar
ceasing thinking and just feeling
the pulse of divine bliss magnetism within
Imagine a fine conduit looping form,
over front and back, splitting us in two,
within which bliss currents, both cool and warm,
in time stretched silence, pulsations renew.
This show of delight, by day and by night,
fixates our fickle attention within,
God’s grace gifting us the boon of clear sight,
even as bliss beats prance on our skin.
Poised at heaven’s gate, in stillness sedate,
essence of presence inhales love’s incense,
reshaping fate, as nodes within gyrate,
effusing joyously our effulgence.
Truth eternal is stranger than fiction,
of rapture borne by benign bliss friction.
"If truth is stranger than fiction, you need to take a stroll inside my dreams!"- by me
Weave me a story; weave me a tale.
Whole histories I need not hear.
But juicy tidbits I love well.
You can whisper them in my ear.
Books are a joy I love to read.
Weave me a story; weave me a tale.
Non-fiction or science – no need!
On the swell of romance I’ll sail.
Give me drama. Spare no detail -
good movies to both hear and see.
Weave me a story; weave me a tale.
At theaters I love to be.
I fall to sleep and my mind weaves
thrilling things. It never grows stale
what imagination conceives!
Weave me a story; weave me a tale.
April 23, 2023
For Writing Challenge - 'W' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
It has been a long time.
Summer of sixty-nine.
Dad, Uncle Don, and I
Their decision to fly.
Wires, you control type.
I ran and walked inside.
For Pepsi cold as ice.
Was there under five.
Had just arrived.
He hit a high-tension line.
The mega-volt kind.
The arcs flashed, pure white.
Blinding light, ten feet high.
As we knelt by his side
tears welled, began to cry.
It has been a long time.
My Dad survived.
Etched forever in mind.
Truth is stranger than Fiction.
Just one letter from you that's all I ask
I know our romance was way in the past
Strong promises you made before you left
A letter each week, you'd give me your best
They said you were among all the missing
I was told no more, it was a secret mission
If we had married like you wanted us too
A family I'd have, but just loneliness I brew
Everyone thinks I'm a foolish old lady
Possibly even a little bit kinda crazy
Truth be told life is stranger than fiction
I'm sticking with my one true conviction
Somewhere out there you might still be alive
With this thought every day is how I thrive From this little piece of land I'll never move
No better way my eternal love for you I prove
Author Eileen Clark 2023
Truth’s stranger than fiction;
we speak of purring bliss,
felt within at our core,
rapturous divine kiss,
we hear of in folklore.
Truth’s stranger than fiction;
sound of one hand clapping,
within heart ovoidal,
soma nectar dripping,
bliss currents toroidal.
Truth’s stranger than fiction;
we’re not body but soul,
here for an earth sojourn,
playing our assigned role,
as ways of love we learn.
Truth’s stranger than fiction;
from God there’s no distance,
if we but slow thought flow,
ending our resistance,
His light within will glow.
16-May-2022
Identical
Fantastical
Twin brothers sought
Twin sisters caught
And tied the knot(s)
Poetical
Noetical
But we’re not done
Each had a bun
Each was a son
Familial
Genetical
Their DNA
Would brothers say
But records? Nay,
Cousins!
----------
A strange story: identical twin brothers met identical twin sisters at a conference, got married, each had a baby boy, and now, all live in the same house. The boys, though first cousins, have DNA that would normally indicate they were siblings. Truth is stranger than fiction!
But is he the real Santa Claus? The child asked.
I did not have a ready answer, for I truly did not know.
But he looked like the Santa I had always dreamed of.
He brought presents, and he said “ho ho ho” right.
I think he is, I replied. But I am not sure how I could test him.
Ask him what Mrs. Claus’s first name is, she suggested.
He told me to tell her “Winkie”.
That sounds good, she agreed. I guess he is the real Santa.
I have no idea why that was the deciding factor
but truth is usually stranger than fiction, right?
Right
half male,
left, female,
as Shiva and
Shakti together;
our twin flames so unite,
which evolved yogis so feel.
Fact stranger than fiction no doubt,
we do know someone, who feels as such.
Ardhnarishwar, affirmed in scriptures,
is mostly taken as folklore,
dismissed by logical mind
as a mere fairy tale,
till we encounter,
such a being,
right in front
of our
eyes!
26-October-2021
Ardhnarishwar, Sanskrit word, little known
Male and female poles, within our form sown
One aspect active, the other dormant
Just as we are partially sentient
Seeds of head-heart balance, yet to be grown
In silence, we all feel magnetism warm
Five sheaths of consciousness adorn our form
Material, pranic, two minds and bliss
When aligned, manifests divine caress
Pulsating within, as a benign storm
The truth is indeed, stranger than fiction
Garnered easily, through meditation
If we choose to let go, we may get to
Truth of Gods breath, which within us renews
Divine union birthing bliss elation
We see around, sacred geometry
Ardhnarishwar; our form in harmony
01-May-2021
Divine light, soft white
Accompanying bliss delight
Pulsating within through day and night
Prismatic refraction displays beauteous hues
Crown lavender, third eye lilac, throat azure blue
Even as heart aquamarine green bliss throb renews
Spleen chakra chartreuse, blend of green and yellow
Manipura at our plexus, bright lemon fire bellows
Whilst coral-tangerine-saffron lust bedfellows
Muladhara awake, crimson scarlet bred
When dormant, watermelon pink-red
Rainbow in full view, in aura read
Our energy body displays all colours
With flower petals opening in playful caper
Deep truth revealed when we awake from stupor
Know, oh hermit, that we are all self-luminous beings
We see this in clear light exiting ego urges limiting
Head-heart melded, love and light becoming
Simple truth is oft stranger than fiction
Within us glows an electro-magnetic radiation
Sound and light show wondrous defying delineation
05-April-2021
Changing colours poetry contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
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