Having once died, I found the air like there moist and still.
Humming along soft with unseen green wings of light,
The echoes of a song long written unfulfilled,
That wove through veils of gold and endless night.
Each step a path, each path a stair case unseen,
Where shadows melt and shimmer into cold flame,
A silent guide, a voice both fierce and keen,
Would call to me gently, softly speaking my name.
The first was joy, a laughter spun with my tears,
The next, a peace that wrapped the soul in ice and fire,
The third, a mirror bright with all my fears,
Unveiling depths of love, and lost my desire.
Each level bled into the next unknown,
A spiral wide that never ceased to grow,
In realms of thought, of heart, and dream alone,
Where time unraveled, infinite and slow.
How many levels?
In each plain of existence,
none measured whole,
For each contained the universe of each unborn soul.
This my poem is number three
Because my husband
Challenged me
Because ten poems
And nothing more
I wrote on site in '24
So here I write,
Please bear with me,
I'm challenged now,
With poetry!
Amidst the splendor of a grand estate
Four cats of regal blood did rule with grace
Each one adorned with fur of the finest state
And eyes that shone with wisdom in their face.
The first, a stately Siamese in white
A cunning strategist, a fierce defender
Her piercing gaze could strike with deadly might
A warrior queen, no foe could surrender.
The second, a Persian of royal breed
A creature of elegance and charm
Her soft meows could bring a king to knead
And soothe the troubled heart with calming balm.
The third, a Scottish Fold, so dainty and gentle
Spurs could melt a heart of stone
A diplomat, she kept the peace complete
And smoothed out conflicts with her gentle tone.
The fourth, a Bengal with a fiery soul
A wildcat at heart, untamed and free
Her agile moves could make the bravest cower
And in her presence, all would bow the knee.
Four cats of royal lineage and might
In harmony, they ruled with all their might.
Before you have affixed to anything a label.
Before you even have a single thought,
practice NDA when you are able
whether you’re “aware” of
Non-Dual Awareness or not!
Relax and breathe; now SEE
an object – any object – as an ENTITY,
an entity which also is aware of YOU.
Move on to a second thing, a third, a fourth
till at last you’re noticing a bigger view.
Everything is ONE and you are now immersed
in your environment – free and unrehearsed!
July 29, 2022
for Unseeking Seeker's Non-Dual Awareness Poetry Contest
Better to compose than to write the song of life -
but I am no musician.
It would have three movements.
The first: an ever-accelerating dance of experimental rhythms.
The second: a collapse of harmony and speed into ponderous, broken chords.
The third: a controlled melody that breathes acceptance and cautious hope.
It seems I had a slim chance of a podium position
In the viagra eating contest I faced such stiff competition
If I don’t get at least a third, a medal I’ll be missing
And that’s a shame because it isn’t cheeks that they’ll be kissing
Perhaps I’ve been blacklisted since the time I won first place
I got my medal but then I was sent home in disgrace
When the mayoress knelt and hung a medal on my little guy
That last viagra kicked in and I poked her in the eye
I left so quickly that I had to go home in my shorts
I got some knowing looks but I couldn’t read their thoughts
A few young ladies seemed to think that I was rather hot
They looked at me then at sky and all they said was ‘What?’
She sat there
Reaching for another
A third a fourth a fifth
She’d lost count and
Wasn’t keeping track
Thought no one else was
She didn’t care
No one else was drinking
There was no difference
Between her and
Her alcoholic brother
Other than the opportunity
The one within her grasp
She chose to throw away
AP: 3rd place 2020
And so it begins, At 2am
awakened by Muse,
I grab my pen;
my journal open To a blank page;
I set the scene upon the stage.
From Muse’s mind to mine,
down the arm to the pen,
flow letters, words
and they spill haphazardly
upon the page;
painting the first scene with,
colors bold.
Repeat, repeat;
a second scene…
a third, a fourth,
now pouring clean
and fresh, crisp;
more legible;
and I wonder…
Will she ever finish?
I need sleep.
Written: 2-9-19
There are three loves so far that I have found,
like triplets, different minds, similar face,
the first where one's feet do not touch the ground
two souls oblivious to time and space.
The second, when the giddiness subsides,
terms and conditions made, a course now set,
doubts cast aside, life now a smoother ride,
comfortable, as good as it will get.
The third a maelstrom, tempest, barren skies
her hand grips his lest they be torn apart
as age and pain rinse colour from the eyes
and circumstance assays the strongest heart.
But as the years progress I feel maybe
there is a fourth love, even greater than the three
whose combined works make it like yeast arise,
a love, once faith, becomes one that we see
when one is taken from the other's eyes.
That fourth love is not a 'where', 'tis but a 'when'
but be assured- I love you until then.
For contest 'Love poem', sponsor Heidi Sands
April 2nd 2018
Robert e Lee was a treasonous ole soul
To defeat the republic his goal
Slavery was abolished the people were free
But only two third a southern decree
The republic with stood the brutal onslaught
Capturing the rebels stopping the plot
50yrs after the civil war
They put up a monument to lee's slavery once more
In two thousand and seventeen
They thought it was time the south came clean
Remove ole Lee off his high horse
But the white supremest and KKK had no remorse
They march on Charlottesville with torches a blaze
Singing Nazi slogans eyes filled with craze
Their hate of black and Jews they proclaimed
Three dead and trump said no one to blame
All people just want to live free
But hate filled hearts and ignorant animosity
Another day in racist America rose in Charlottesville
White Sheets and a rope looking for brother to kill
When raised to the third - a power of two
The number of corners on dice or a cube
Legs on a spider that some people dread
Orbiting planets 'cept Pluto 'nuff said
For nerds the number of bits in a byte
Pawns in a chess game - side black or side white
Brings luck in the east - by no means a curse
Number of lines in this numeric verse
---------------------------------------------
Three sisters - two as lovely as the dawn,
the third, a travesty of face and form
and we - a trio of fine gentlemen,
(to all but former flames, who'd disagree!)
Like Musketeers, we fellows made a set -
one for us all and all of us for one!
So too, these ladies, we learned with dismay,
which left us with no choice but to draw lots...
Good manners and good breeding tantamount,
we chose three cards and tossed them in a hat -
two Queens and one that we had scratched to white
(which would, of course, prescribe the oafish girl)
At times, one is the cart... at times the ox
This night, a beast of burden I became
The first man pulled a heart, the next, a spade
but last to choose - alas! I drew a blank!
---------------------------------------------
I began the day we first met. Pebbles clattered.
I picked and hacked, my mud-spattered mattox.
The first layer of earth was smooth, cool, compact;
hard to break. Once breached,
easy to up-heave.
The second layer, malleable;
my pick penetrated in even sweeps.
The third, a clay core;
years spent mining,
I reached the heart,
bipolar as a planet.
This vision ahead intoxicates
near waters edge I sway
Rydal lake beyond so crisp so clear
as though created yesterday
I sit a while to soak the scene
swiftly turn, to see, to spy
faint flutter aimed towards my ears
a most elegant enchanting dragonfly
With precious delicate opaque wings
he floats amongst the reeds
I hold my breath, behold the sight
candescent blues and greens
I just cannot believe this view
one more bound for the reed
a third, a fourth and now there's six
a great dragonfest indeed
Rays upon the glassy mere
swaying grass neath slender tree
lay my head upon the clover
to watch hypnotic matinee
Like shooting stars with rainbow hue
more grace there could not be
they hover afore sharp dart and swoop
dragonfly ballet witnessed only by me
This vision ahead intoxicates
Near waters edge I sway
Rydal lake so crisp so clear
As if created yesterday
I sit a while to soak the scene
swiftly turn, to see, to spy
Faint flutter aimed towards my ears
The most elegant enchanting dragonfly
With delicate opaque wings
He floats amongst the reeds
I hold my breath, behold the sight
Candescent blues and greens
I just cannot believe the view
One more bound for the reed
A third, a fourth and now there's six
A great dragonfest indeed
Rays upon the glassy mere
Swaying grass neath slender tree
Lay my head upon the clover
Dragonfly ballet witnessed by me
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