Roses
of the unborn
planted in
my childhood
Blooming
not once
but forever
in my memory
Blooming
not once
rediscovered
in my longing
Petals
of transcendence
falling softly
— out of time
(Deamsleep: August, 2026)
It's done.
The flame doused, tears ebbed.
The hour I dreaded has come,
All feelings end.
It's here.
Numbed by long desperation
Beyond all pain and fear,
Estranged from emotion.
It's eternal.
Deaf to murmurs and whispers
Of souls, infernal.
I rise beyond shivers.
The reason I write poetry
Is not because I love you.
It is because when you love someone else
And shed tears for that person,
I loved even those tears of yours—
That is why I am writing poetry now.
And my poetry exists because, when you love someone,
Right there for you,
I loved even the love of the one you love.
That is the reason I am writing poetry now.
Therefore,
Do not forget my love.
For I am already a being
Who has transcended my own love for you.
In the beginning, my existence was this:
When you so easily forgot my love,
I had to send my tears away upon the cold wind,
Shedding tears all by myself.
And when you truly loved someone else and wept,
I was a being who had to swallow my own tears in secret,
Watching your retreating figure from afar.
But now, I have transcended all such loves,
And I have become the light
That protects you.
Also, remember:
The reason I still write poetry to this moment
Is for you, and you alone,
Who are reading these very lines right now.
The dog's paw clawing on the linoleum,
Restless pacing while the kettle starts to
Activate steam. No, it's not a choir of a
Nimbus of gold, just the unmistakable,
Sudden realization that the sink is leaking
Cold tap water on a Monday morning -
Everything is heavy, until it isn't
Nobody told him that climbing out of
Despair felt like a wet, damp blanket
Eventually hung up to dry by the fire
Now, the prolonged static in the radio clears
Cutting through the kitchen grease
Exposing the manner in which dust settles.
Our central vein is like a band of steel
As such, how may we speak of chakra points
Upon ego death we begin to heal
In a oneness field where God’s touch anoints
Embodying the light within we see
Boundaries drawn were merely thought constructs
Our pristine consciousness is always free
Known clearly when lower mind self-destructs
Manifestation is a wisp of smoke
Dancing as just do, puppets on a string
When fires of desire we cease to stoke
In the void of silence, we alone sing
Chakras was what we were talking about ~
That in truth nothing exists, have no doubt
That in truth nothing exists, have no doubt
Yet in life’s lucid dream of we but pause
Stuporous mind stilled and our heart devout
Clear light dawns as our identity thaws
In early days chakras were in focus
Representing realms we needed to cross
But ambling gently along love’s locus
Prayer on our lips, we discard the gross
In time nodes entwine, with God’s will align
That with map of our consciousness redrawn
We become the flame that carries His sign
As transcendental light that ushers dawn
On ceasing thinking we begin to feel ~
Our central vein is like a band of steel
he recited my poetry at the local bar downtown.
my solider, my soulmate.
lights.
reflections.
mirrors.
that was the name of his poem (well technically mine)
an embrace of transcendence, an embrace of color.
let me feel the glow of your skin.
he said.
unblemished.
he said.
hold me while I hold my hands.
glowing and growing freely.
A whimsical word, so light, like a bird,
It floats on the air, with care, unheard.
Then floats to the ground, no sound, but it sings!
For all, all these years, in our ears, still rings!
A wisp on the wind, a poet, a friend,
Thus, from beginning to end, your light will transcend!
Within this sanctum
of breath and bone—
ten trillion anchorites
mimic their devotions.
Bacteria threading
blood’s vermilion rivers
braiding holy water
into the cathedral
of now.
Their alchemy transmutes
starlight
into the wine of existence—
decanted
from Orion’s mythical vine.
Viruses—
those threshold wraiths
between being
and unbeing—
inscribe new verses
in the living gospel
of our chromosomes.
Fungi a cappella
in mycelial tongues
through marrow’s moaning chambers
decomposing resurrection
from each small death
we die.
We are not hosts—
but cantatas
still composing themselves
in light.
Each cell—
a verse rehearsing resurrection.
Hark:
your pulse conducts
this unseen choir
where mortal breath
becomes immortal song.
And in this sacrosanct
communion of kingdoms,
we learn
we were never “I”—
but a constellation of prayers:
timeless,
boundless—
Bacteria
Viruses
Fungi
Me—
becoming
one.
Recognising thought and senses as veils,
to exit this maze where dream forms amaze,
we enter staid silence whence presence sails,
in the vast void, invoking grace that stays,
pastures of bliss, upon which we then graze.
Bliss too transforms as peace beyond space-time,
where we as living light, heavenward climb.
after “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” (also sometimes called “Daffodils”) by William Wordsworth
I wandered weightless as a feather,
a muted plume from mourning dove.
A tuft afloat in breezy weather
connected now to skies above;
as long as winds will carry me
from over fields and out to sea.
My glad esprit more free than birds,
detached from mortal needs I fly,
where spirits long to share their words
among the songs in clouds, I sigh...
for Earth was never this composed,
this high I travel unopposed.
Oh cumulus, a meadow white,
I feel at home atop your waves
illuminant, in purest light.
Mid savored heights my mem’ry saves
inertia of the clover green
and shiver of the water’s sheen.
Such riches now I do enjoy
in solitude away from fray.
I'm free from living once so coy;
in spirits’ realm I long to stay,
for then, myself I will fulfill
with gild as gold as daffodil.
though we’re caged in this body-mind
within our heart always springs hope
as we shift into pathways kind
opting to with love to elope
our heart tells us we’re always free
though we’re caged in this body-mind
yet once with God’s laws we agree
we escape lust’s demonic bind
imagined fears are left behind
when to the truth impulse we bend
though we’re caged in this body-mind
in silent prayer we ascend
feeling pulse of bliss beats renew
with divine pulsations aligned
we have the cake and eat it too
though we’re caged in this body-mind
Movement of form in enigmatic space,
measured against the sun gives birth to time,
as heliotropic flowers seek grace,
echoing in all hearts as bliss beat’s chime.
It is said time and tide waits for no one,
save those lovers lost in each others eyes,
blurring boundaries as mind comes undone,
paving way for bliss magnetism to rise.
Memory records embrace and release,
within the lifespan allotted to us,
wherein mindful souls who flow on with ease,
dissolve time itself, aboard God’s bliss bus.
Time too is confined, to this realm dual,
which we exit, if love be heart’s fuel.
Memory erased
and free from conditioned thought,
I Am as I Am, pure bliss.
Memory intact,
yet transcending space and time,
I transmute as love and light.
Trapped in the open, free within
Spiralling thoughts makes our head spin
In time we lose all we hold dear
We’re burnt by desire, scarred by fear
Notice head and heart stand apart
How then may bliss ignition start
Though God within us, is so near
We’re burnt by desire, scarred by fear
We can, if we choose, be now free
Gambolling on a joyous spree
But unless we lend love our ear
We’re burnt by desire, scarred by fear
In time as our sight becomes clear
We transcend both desire and fear
when we be both
form and space
and time a strum
a ripple in the void
what then remains
to be done on earth
save being present
in innate vibrancy
of bliss magnetism
reverberating within
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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.