Experience has shown that to be a jerk
It actually requires very little work
So what does it take to be a true friend
Be part of their life unconditionally to the end
A friend will listen and never judge
A friend will stand by you and not hold a grudge
A friend will be will with you when you laugh or cry
A friend will sit with you and just stare at the sky
A true friend will stand by you and always understand
A friend will be there to hold your hand
Most of all a true friend will listen to all you say
And know when its best to just stay away
Being a friend is not hard to do
think how you want others to treat you.
Humanity suffers, totalitarianism reigns,
Vanity crushes our personal gains,
Mankind is weeping and working as slaves,
Those who refuse are remembered in graves.
This is the fate of the people who cry,
How do they rate if they do or they die?
How do you choose what to do with your life?
Most people can't who succumb to the strife.
What does it take to be free of it all?
How do you win or be ready to fall?
What do you do when you don't have a gun?
Where do you flee if there's nowhere to run?
We've got the numbers to do as we must,
Even though people are lacking in trust,
Who do you turn to and when should you speak?
What do you hide or be ready to leak?
Suddenly angels appear in their strength,
Prayers of the righteous are answered at length,
People are saved by the sentries of good,
Mankind is spared when we do as we should.
Delusion manifests as a thought form,
which we mistakenly take to be ours,
whereby arises a need to conform
but the taste of the fruit over time sours,
with ego seeking magical powers.
Though dreams within dreams in this way replay,
detached from outcomes, the pure of heart play.
What does it take, to be free,
in joy, frolicking carefree
childlike heart, divine entwined,
bliss suffused, with love aligned?
It’s not difficult to see,
that we are bound to mind’s tree,
consumed by desire and fear,
blocking God’s light to draw near.
With the coordinates known,
as of seeds by us now sown,
we are and be as we choose,
the flavour of our heart’s muse.
Conscience guides, as God inside,
heeding which, we wingless glide
but the choice is left to us,
to get aboard, love’s bliss bus.
”Oh hermit, our eye cannot be single ~
unless polarities within mingle”
~ quote by poet
Narrow is our perception,
leading to misconception,
which if we take to be true,
makes delusional our view.
Sensory inputs and mind
an inexorable bind,
yet within the gap, the pause,
we may escape from its jaws.
Polarity interchange
frees our soul's cognition range,
by abiding in silence,
resting thought form violence.
Sans thought, awareness heightens
because load on heart lightens
but most take this as fiction,
due to thinking addiction.
To transcend mind, we rest thought,
whence no longer by fears fraught,
we see ourselves as we are,
luminous like yonder star.
What silence ushers is this:
we imbibe love, light and bliss,
which radiates within form,
propelled by magnetism warm.
Obtaining spherical sight,
entwined with bliss beat delight,
as we slowly come undone,
we see God and soul are one.
Looking back, we now can see,
that whence free from our mind tree
and on adding love to cart,
we sense God within each heart.
What does it take to be seen
What does it take to be heard
A kind hearted human being
With a caring kind word
God’s luminous sublime womb,
we take to be a dark tomb,
since mind-body looks outward,
our actions thus untoward.
Bemused thus by our senses,
living life in past tenses,
we’re rarely in this moment,
self-blocking bliss bestowment.
Do not grieve, for soul’s reprieve
is when thoughts we cease to weave,
free will choice we each can take,
to boundless bliss, now awake.
Void of silence let’s befriend,
enabling soul to ascend,
heart receptive and porous,
a bliss magnetised torus.
25-July-2022
It is a ritual the old man has observed since he was a little boy…
a ritual that fills his heart with love and fills his mind with joy…
Every morning…the moment he rises from his bed…as he thinks about his yesterday…and about today…what lies ahead.
He turns to the east and prays for the respect that will help him to behave…then he turns to the north and prays for the courage and strength it will take to be brave.
Next he turns to the west and prays for wisdom and truth…then to the south for kindness and honesty…then he turns his gaze to the Earth and prays for humility.
Next he pauses for a moment before turning to the sky above
and to whomever is up there listening…he begins to pray for love.
For he knows if even one direction of his prayers is answered…
when he walks out his front door…
he will be a better person
than he was the day before.
we readily admit that we know not how
the tumbler falls each morn
enabling us to awake
from our slumber
we are astonished!
so here we are then
like a computer rebooting
memory infusing sense of continuity
to our fleeting mind-body ego form identity
which we then take to be the real us
even though facts are otherwise
we yet think and act as fools
we are astonished!
musing in silence we see
that even though we have aged
innate aliveness, screen of consciousness
remains unchanged upon which earth life does play
we are astonished!
universe tests and jests
posing problems needing solving
we assume the role of limited doership
jubilant at our success and sorrowful at failure
while the hermit living next door just smiles
doing nothing save choosing response
dream life plays on in both cases
one is happy, the other not
we are astonished!
28-July-2021
Finding your muse poetry contest
Sun overhead
Our shadow is small
Heart heavy as lead
Back against a wall
Consciousness contracted
By believing that the caricature
Is us, magnificence subtracted
Crestfallen at our fallen stature
Within the bubble of illusion
We take to be reality
Sleep walking in delusion
We are our own casualty
Observing our coordinates
From a centred stance
As duality oscillates
We see our schizophrenic dance
In stillness
02-November-2020
COWARDS, NOT HEROESv
Cowards, not heroes, Call them what they are
Not Martyrs, killers of babies, children, people both near and far
Cowards not heroes, not terrorists, Call them what they are
How much courage does it take to mow down children and people in trucks
How much courage does it take to be armed with all kinds of ammunition
like a sniper and shoot down cops like sitting ducks
How much courage does it take to shoot unsuspecting people in a store, a show a school
To kill and brutalize black, brown, white folks going about their day
To fly into buildings, blow up people having fun running in races is beyond cruel
Oh you say, it is for what I believe in, I have courage to risk my own life
Or they deserve it, poor me, I have been hurt, I am angry
They will pay with a gun, bomb, or knife
Cowards not heroes, that is what terrorists are
Even an old woman could drive a truck through a crowd of people, shoot cops
Plant bombs, shoot into crowds and kill people near and far
COWARDS, killers ,not terrorists, not heroes, not Martyrs
COWARDS willing to kill babies, children, mothers and fathers
COWARDS let us call them what they are
COWARDS
Struggle
I struggle day after day,
to get out of bed and go on with my day.
I struggle night after night,
just to get a full night's sleep.
The nightmares are just to deep.
I struggle to keep a fake smile upon my face,
when the pain just wants me to cry.
I struggle to be that one person that wants to be left alone.
They say that I have courage in my heart,
But this girl is tired of walking around trying to be brave knowing that I am not.
I struggle to be a good mother, a good daughter, a good friend.
I struggle just to take the medicine I have to take to be me.
I don't even know the meaning of me anymore.
I struggle to not have tears run down my checks anymore.
I just struggle thru life in hopes that one day it will be better and the struggle will be gone forever.
Writing is my compliment to speech
To articulate with pen and paper
Not fully knowing who it will reach
The great poets of yesterday
Shall always be in remembrance
A recollection from the past
Fine tuning my poetry in resemblance
What does it take to be a great writer
Should I make it dark and heavy or a bit lighter
What if my pen doesn't like my hand
What if my paper doesn't understand
What do I write about
Where do I get inspiration
Should I write a short story
Or a commentary with narration
Writing has its elements
One being redevelopment
What does my pen want to say to this paper
For now I'll put it down and come back later
Distance ripping souls.
Insecurities taking over.
Feelings can't be exposed.
Tired of the uncountable times that's taking over.
Longing the taste and the touch,
how long will it take to be over?
Why is this my luck?
Tell me my lover.
I'm sick of it.
I'm sure you can clearly see.
How do you feel about it?
Is it like me?
Don't be silent.
Speak it out.
Let me hear your thoughts.
Tell me it'll be over.
Tell me it'll all be alright my love.
It takes life to live life,
Fresh air to breathe;
Sunlight to have energy,
And a power to create.
It takes war to win freedom,
Courage to be a hero;
Pain to be a poet,
And two to tango.
It takes humility to say sorry,
Forgiveness to forget;
Meekness to make apology,
And mistake to show regret.
It takes a long hard road
To go the extra mile;
And a cheerful moment,
To make someone smile.
It takes smile to stay young,
Speed to beat the clock;
So much love to have time,
And shepherd to feed the flock.
It takes prayer to realize a dream,
To be perfect, more practice;
Self-discipline to improve,
And time to gain success.
It takes work to prove faith,
Truth to set man free;
Proof to accept the truth,
And heart to be holy.
It takes trial to be strong,
Faith to move mountain;
Blood for man to be redeemed,
And hope to reside in heaven.
Endless things so it seems,
For everyone to learn and see;
In a perfect world of glory,
What does it take to be?
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