¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ our island woods grown dim and blue;
O’er the waters ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ the pearl dust of ¦¦¦ eve
Hides the ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ wave rippling through:
The chill for ¦¦¦ warm room let us leave.
Turn the lamp ¦¦¦¦ low ¦¦¦ draw the curtain wide,
So ¦¦¦ greyness of ¦¦¦ starlight bathes the room;
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ see the ¦¦¦¦¦ face of night outside,
¦¦¦¦¦¦ vague as a moth’s wing ¦¦¦ the gloom.
Rumour of the ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ city far away
Breaks ¦¦¦¦ the peace that aureoles ¦¦¦ rest,
Steeped in stillness as ¦¦¦ some primeval day
Hung ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ o’er the water’s breast.
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ eyes that flame and ¦¦¦¦ the heart that burns:
In quiet we ¦¦¦ hear the ¦¦¦ primeval cry:
God gives wisdom ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ that upturns:
Let us adore ¦¦¦¦ you and I.
Age ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ is heaped ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ as we hear:
¦¦¦¦¦¦ hurry to and fro with giant tread
From ¦¦¦ deep unto ¦¦¦ deep: ¦¦¦ do not fear,
For the soul unhearing ¦¦¦¦ is dead.
(Blackout of Prayer by Richard Crashaw)
Rays of a warring star where the eclipse
Trying for his dune by the sands of the lighter eye
Kaleidoscope into which the opus
Right into night the stallions of colossal strike
And among the night lovers
Between the prismatic mare
A small trace to come to render
The array of less than fonder tears
For the belly of the sun is most in leisure
Where the velvet cast upturns the rain
Utmost to the lifting homage
The barring of the telling tie
Very close as comfort would hurry garnets in the snow
A feline so mystique where dreams collide with night
So nature along all boughs of love
For smitten in the shadows of the day
realms defence launches
dice, reckless soul hoarder
upturns death hourglass
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Watch the teary ferns
Scars on her skin
Carrying wounds engraved
Curse devious grin
And snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom in her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Profuse tears of fern
They observe
Drip on her burn
Numbing pain so perverse
Weeped the clouds
In meloncholic ambience
Silence crept loud
Spotting redemption in defiance
Step out the vines
Adorning her bruises
Wind's penchant to divine's
Yearning, she refuses
Blanket of ferns
Ease her shivers
While the moon upturns
Bogs were her new weavers
Time passed by
Has been watching the sky
Fern decays
Her soul repays
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Her soul burnt and torn
Scars on her skin
Carried wounds engraved
Trust, her sin
So were snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom from her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Silence crept loud
In the woods still stern
Moon upturns
Summoning weeping clouds
Tears unfolden
The woven maze
Outside the haze,
Lies a fern pretty golden
Threads, now vines
Adored her bruises
Illusion's penchant to divine's
Were flood sailed cruises
Time passed by,
Venom decays
Has been watching the sky
The fern now sways
A-mid shared thoughts,
shuffled 'cross mortal uncoil,
no central judge;
choices re-sound, choices spoil.
Principles form an unspoken pact,
reciprocity in action, a silent (re)act.
In trans-action of duties, a treaty defined,
acknowledgment, values, (re)flections, they bind.
Not a-lone acts, rather sharing confessions,
indices echo (echo) moral impressions.
Choices ripple ~ a moral surge ~ ennui overtakes,
no single emotion can play ducks-and-drakes.
In life's upturns,
steepening truths subtly heaved,
concrete reverbs, in every gesture, conceived.
The sordid thought thicket thrives
within the dungeon of the dark mind,
where the web of tormenting roots wriggles,
entangles all the escape routes,
as qualm deconstructs life’s forest path.
Unsure frail footsteps falter,
deranged wobbly tread dithers,
the root trap and the abyss wait
for the traveller, worn out of walking long,
going jaded to nowhere in the jungle of life.
The survival struggle starts as shovel of resolve
upturns the security soil, fells the trees,
removes the mesh and the darkness,
the crafted pasture of freedom then
looks up to the sky above the dismal canopy.
Destiny isn’t a pretext, the walk is one’s own walk
through the murky maze of the forlorn forest,
where the insightful impulse carves out
a pasture transforming into the garden of bliss,
the inner vision configures in the clearing.
_____________
February 17, 2023
Contest : The Clearing
Sponsored by : Craig Cornish
For Brian Strand Premier No. 1194
Echo return contoured by consciousness
Oft ignores our interconnectedness
Sternest rebuff being indifference
In a poignant, painful, time stretched silence
Mitigating our innate blissfulness
Endearing touch of childlike lovingness
Vibrantly bubbling agendalessness
Burns, upturns, on facing insentience
Echo return
Hermit mode, in perfect, brilliant stillness
Recognising underlying oneness
Heals to so reveal, soul’s luminescence
Engaging innocently in parlance
Learns that egos stern, reflect not kindness
Echo return
29-October-2021
Ego upturns, so we learn to discern
Urge of mind-body versus cry of soul
For God we yearn, as love for love does burn
In midst of action, playing our life role
Ceasing to weigh and size, we vaporise
Open arm embrace for all souls alike
Heart transfixed with joy, as bliss currents rise
Magnetism within continues to spike
Mind-body becomes an empty vessel
Cleansed of erst cravings of our lower mind
Each breath intake, God bestowed miracle
Fetters of fear and desire, left behind
Our emptiness charged with bliss in fullness
Boundaries blur as we meld with oneness
26-October-2021
ducks cluck
bulls buck
gnus munch
bugs buzz
surf
lulls
as shrubs bud;
dusk
suns
cummulus
unfurl
curls
uncurl
tumult
upturns
as
crush
sucumbs
a FP source inspired list
As mauve of autumn waves her velvet cloak
Each treetop, each leaf upturns a glazed hue:
That between dusk and morn, the winds evoke
A heartbeat tempo of evening’s debut--
Oblivious to chills with beams on oak
Parading their grandeur , regal in view,
Then once again through October – brushed sky
Where Northern lights mindlessly fail to die !
Broken Wings’ Form O- Only One Contest
Theme: Oblivious ( 4-syl count) 5/10/2017
From stiletto heels to flashy coiffures
whether in braids, crochets or something new
They never ceased to shimmer in view
and there, there, these beauts I see...
Three dames and a half
all beautiful and plum
But the half,
has a way with the heart
With rosy cheeks the red
of cherry bubble gum
She upturns every frown
and splits tears apart
And if you stare gently
and also listen close
Then luckily you will
lose yourself in her smiling gaze
...And all your troubles too.
------------------------------------
Inspired by: Little Magneta
& the Cuddly One too
Form: Acrostic
Don’t walk by,pretend not to see
Outside in the cold is no place to be
Whistle to yourself,think glad it’s not me
No-one can escape their destiny.
No-one can prepare for all trials of life
One day it is bliss the next day is strife
Taking one day at a time is now my life.
Optimism is the only way out
Upturns are ahead I have no doubt
Thinking to myself I am down not out.
Because when I am sensing the dark side
I remember who always stands by side
Through him is where all my power does reside
Thrown away all I have of foolish pride
My love for him is no longer denied
No more drinking shall there be of their flouride
Caught I a glimpse of yonder far hillside
Location found is highly classified
Tell you its close though, time of the Yuletide
Be sure you protect your broadside
This is to make sure that you don't backslide
Vast distance to go before you reach dockside
The seas you travel know they are mystified
Dangers encountered will seemed magnified
At its end you journey will be justified
It is the truth which
never was. After many
deaths I will come to you
to repeal my verses.
The festering earth was
making the rains green,
to suck the dry sands
thrown by the angry winds.
The soul upturns the body.
You will crawl in a tunnel
to come out for sedation
accepting the karma.
A non-acceptance of the
straitjacket. Let the anxiety
rise like a beast.
Satish Verma
Don’t walk by,pretend not to see
Outside in the cold is no place to be
Whistle to yourself,think glad it’s not me
No-one can escape their destiny.
No-one can prepare for all trials of life
One day it is bliss the next day is strife
Taking one day at a time is now my life.
Optimism is the only way out
Upturns are ahead I have no doubt
Thinking to myself I am down not out.
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