Spontaneity translates heart’s intent,
provided of course our mind is at rest,
so free from fear, actions ensure ascent,
our emotes on canvas of space impressed,
inked with divine bliss mists in playful jest.
The gong of Om resounds in the vast void,
birthed in our purified heart unalloyed,
teleported on wings of innocence,
benign burn by which ego is destroyed,
enabled as always with God’s guidance.
why would we switch on thought
when bliss beats within pulsate
in stillness we are self-taught
teleported to heaven’s gate
Vibrational descent followed by ascent,
duality’s offering for our delight,
that on blurring boundaries we feel content,
as we’re teleported to zenith like height,
upon the bliss current’s auspicious advent,
revealing that our true Self is living light.
Liken life then to a game of hide and seek,
where God hides from us, yet offers a sneak peek.
all doings are being done
although we are not doing them
we behold this non-doing in wonderment
as we are so teleported across time
on wings of magical bliss mists
strange but true
such is as it was
I was kissed one night
in love’s stillness pause
it happened like this
perhaps way past midnight
my presence was teleported
on a wingless flight
nodes within form stirred
I was suffused with cool heat
as magnetism intensified
I heard a loving tweet
Divine Mother bestowed a kiss
right between my eyebrows
behold now dear child, she said
how luminescent aura grows
heightened rapture ineffable
then became the norm
each body cell was set aflame
and I was centred in love’s storm
A translucent bluish-white mineral with a mysterious sheen
I hear them rustling behind heaven's plisse,
fabric seersucker curtains, opaque but unlaced
One breath and suddenly
I'm a teleported being
letting go of all faculties and senses;
A prayer on the lips searching for everlasting hope.
These precious substances of color and charm
both calm and confident, ignite the soul
and usher it to peace, love, and harmony.
Filled with Goddess energy
exuding warm tones of luminescent, ephemeral light
the hand receives what the eyes have encased
lost inside clairaudient auditory movements
Moonstone Melodies;
Yokiko reveries fill me like no other
listen to the sound they make
Angels dressed in crinoline gowns,
swooshing and spreading light
everywhere...
Lost in their chime like sound of tinkling glass
they are un-comparable,
A thousand stars of heaven could never compare
to these moonstone gems,
who seem to claim the heart bit by bit
and then, all at once.
Instinctively following scent of delight,
in as that pulsation that does not abate,
in staid stillness, soul attained zenith like height,
teleported by love straight to heaven’s gate,
suffused in bliss mists thus by day and by night,
invoked by yearnings of our childlike heart chaste.
As we can see there is nothing to be done,
save recognising that God and soul are one.
What is it? A dog? Cat? Gerbil? Albino beast?
I am not sure; the forest does not know in the least.
I watched the creature approach a dried dandelion.
It began to whimper, next, it would be crying.
Go and help it! Someone’s voice came on the wind.
I was frightened a bit, it might be evil, not a friend.
Approaching it anyway, I decided to comfort her.
She teleported away, but I got a small piece of fur.
It's funny how time flies
No wings to flap
Yet fast enough
Never stopping for someone wishing so
Another funny thing is how Nature calls daily
But our busy schedules don't pick up
Missing out on the horizon
Our TV screens show us the beauty so we can't take a step forward into the sunset
Comfortable in our zones
Time whispers farewell to today
Without a warning we're stuck in the morrow
Wishing to travel in time we are teleported to the future
Without dreams to show for it we show up
Time escorts us to the graveyard
Without responded to calls we cry for second chances
But time waits for no one and today is all we have
to hide from myself
in denial of loneliness
I set off barefoot
in search of a guru
the hall of mirrors
displayed myriad forms
some with remarkable gifts
but imperfect like the moon
exhausted, I just stopped
in the middle of a desert
where ghosts wandered about
cloaked in human form
alone with myself
choosing to check the depths
silence enlivened stillness
radiating bliss from within
I stood at first transfixed
teleported to heightened rapture
then in time bliss too transformed
etched in heart as ineffable peace
flowing gently, clinging to nothing
unfed identity withered away
the veil dropped and soul was free
aglow in its native element
these days I tend to bilocate
between the real and the unreal
there remains nothing to be done
but it would be rude if I walked away
In the dead of the night, I stirred from sleep,
waking up in bed to rapture unbound,
borne by bliss nectar that had seeped in deep
and presence choosing therein to be drowned,
found itself standing here on holy ground.
Each node within pulsating with delight,
heart was teleported to zenith height,
as my formless consciousness filled all space
and thus my body, awash with God’s light,
in time dissolved stillness, imbibed His grace.
The ice-cream parlor
is just across the road
from a small white clapper-board church.
I sit in a window seat,
watching the little town
and the sidewalk
as it moves people around,
thought-reading their directions,
as they go to, or come away
from predictable starts and arrivals.
Now the congregation is filing-out
of the narrow church door.
The pastor, has somehow
teleported himself,
to get up in front of them,
he shakes hands and pats backs,
knowing them all,
perhaps knowing too much
about some of them.
Kids are corralled quickly,
strapped into booster seats,
or marshaled across to this store
for ice-cream treats.
It's just a little township,
on a side-road to nowhere special.
The ice-cream is homemade and delicious.
I could trash-talk this hamlet,
these people, these families,
I am naturally cynical by nature,
but I am in love with them all,
and the ice-crem is always so good.
What oh hermit, should we hold dear
Objects of desire disappear
Horizons shift, we are adrift
Where lies true bliss, of which we hear
We know this life's from God, a gift
But how may we, vibrations lift
To get to peace that does not end
Escaping strife and needless rift
If ear to conscience we do lend
And our will to love divine bend
Upon so choosing to do this
We'll feel clearly, our soul ascend
This is the direct path to bliss
Rapture of Divine Mother's kiss
As we be to become God's light
Recognising He alone is
Getting thus to boundless delight
Teleported to zenith height
In joy that does not come and go
Bliss beats throb within day and night
24-December-2022
Priceless Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
The sublime elixirous fragrance
Rose exuding it's sublime essence
Teleported to nirvana, presence
Jarred by piercing pain of a thorn
Withdrawing not, holding opposites
Frozen in time, in the palm of our hand
The pain too transmuted as bliss
Dissolving all inherent contradictions
03-November-2022
I was born decades ago.
When boychild wad was a being.
'No community survives without a boy'
The phrase I used to hear.
I envied the boychild.
Soon the value teleported.
Into the thin air not to be seen.
Today the opposite I see.
The gender I desliked,
The societies' preference.
Day after day, the boy is a looser.
From home to school.
Within and without.
No one to stand for the boychild.
Boys raped day after day,
No activist put it out.
Boys taken to court.
No lawyer speaks for him.
Innocent boys rotting in jail.
His education not left behind.
Every motivation skewed to the girl.
Every activist is feminist.
His performance dwindles.
No one attempts to find the roots.
I speak for the boychild.
?@Kipngeno Robin.
Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk
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