I died for a while
Withdrawing myself from the routines of life
Getting into a silent shell and observing
The world around me
The people around me
The people who are the world around me
All happy and content with my absence
The vacuum that I perceived would be created
In my absence
Was created within me
The hollowness was evident
The invisible strings detached
As if they never were
The mundane society grind continued
Will continue
Like the space occupied by a finger in water
Taken out and nothing was ever there
I enjoyed being dead
For there are no expectations from the deceased
Only the living dead
Bear the burden of as if running the whole world
I have now sprung back to life
Enlightened, that there are many illusions that we carry
That we belong…
@’dusk’…
if life is a lucid dream
a matrix in which we’re caged
in destiny as it flows
perhaps everything is staged
concepts of heaven and hell
seem tools designed to control
to bring semblance of order
among us here on parole
it is naive to assume
fairy tales we heard as true
so let’s negate all knowing
that light of truth may accrue
contemplating thus we pause
looking at the world afresh
noticing vast empty space
as the field that does enmesh
withdrawing senses and mind
as awareness self-aware
transcending both space and time
we lay our consciousness bare
poised in peace in the bardo
we see we are living light
self-existent and complete
drenched in mists of bliss delight
in this ethereal realm
our Father reveals His face
golden globe oozing with love
holding us in close embrace
such is the truth we affirm
God dwells within our heart’s core
He is who we’re searching for
walk in right now through love’s door
yes, heaven exists right here
but it is not what we think
first recognise who we are
betwixt heartbeats when we blink
The trees are too busy
losing leaves
or withdrawing deeper
into their winter selves
to notice me.
Clouds pass overhead
oblivious to my presence,
the wind detours around me
and carries on its way
as if I'm not there.
I mean nothing at all
to the river much less
the ocean. Butterflies
and birds ignore me
or keep their distance.
I'm treated as only a part
of an earthly whole.
That won't do.
Little do they know
they are paying a price
for their indifference
and reluctance to bend.
I am asserting
my god given right
of dominion
by slowly
killing them.
weary walls whisper willfully while withdrawing
Sponsor’s Name: Nette Onclaud
Contest Title: Monoklitteration Poetry Contest
Date of Poem: May 31, 2025
The air is growing colder.
Something is withdrawing
deeper into itself, becoming
more distant, out of reach.
The evenings are heavy
with longing.
Soon it will be time
for you to go.
A restlessness
now disturbs the still
and thoughts of that other place
glow on the mind's horizon.
It grows brighter
in the gathering chill.
There will be a morning
when you will arise
and wipe a thick
film of frost from your eyes
and take one last look
at the world around you.
You will remember
all that blossomed and grew,
the love given
and received,
the life you lived here.
You will be moved
to give thanks for all
that was bestowed upon you,
the gifts of the earth,
a universe that reflected
a creator's infinite light.
It will be time then
to find a place somewhere,
high up where there is lift,
extend your wings
and take flight.
Late afternoon and the day
is withdrawing into a chill.
So much more now
lays abandoned
in sad pools of absence.
Overhead,
a tattered spiders web sags
under the weighted
remains of the dead.
Today marks the start
of autumn for another year
and already
a growing emptiness
is being backfilled
with fear.
December morning
and already life is withdrawing
into the shade. The air
has the smell of smoke
blowing down from bushfires
burning up north. The sun
wears a red glow.
The veneer of normality
begins to crack under heat
to reveal what's beneath,
a furnace of fire. It's the way
of the land, primed as it is
with a vapour of eucalyptus oil
hanging in a blue haze
waiting for an errant spark
to ignite the very air.
There is a strange beauty
to it all when seen
from a distance, the tinted
sky, the play of light
through clouds of ash,
too far away to feel the heat
or hear the roar. Each summer
the spirits stir and emerge
in flame from the charcoal
chambers of their ancient past
as if to remind us
that we trespass.
October 19 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Mark 13-14
Key Verse – Mark 13:5 And Jesus answering them began to say, Take heed lest any man deceive you.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR WARNING US
AGAINST DECEIVERS
Praise be to God for warning us against deceivers with their:
Dishonest words
Disgraceful ways
Disrespectful witness
Detrimental worldliness
Dysfunctional waywardness
Mark 13:32-37 Praise be to the Lord for
commanding us to be watchful while:
Waiting actively for His arrival
Working abundantly by His affirmation
Wanting His approval along His assurance
Walking against arrogant and apathetic attitude
Withdrawing from abominations through His assistance
Mark 14:6 Praise be to the Saviour for
delighting in our good work wrought on Him:
Dearly with dedication by His divine design
Diligently with determination to His direction
Dutifully with dependence on His driving defense
Devotedly with decisiveness through His distinction
Determinedly with discipline and discretion from destruction. Amen!
October 19, 2024
Eye of Horus
in the dead of the night
we stir from dreamless sleep
meditative and in deep quietude
as of an impulse from the universe
we polarise our consciousness
taking opposing positions
as both the lustful beast
and also hapless fearful victim
we are both yet none in the drama
roles rotate as dream forms orbit
the eye of Horus rooted in love
birthing a strobe of light
the darkness is illumined
the light beam enters our eye
or does it flow forth; we know not
quiescent toroidal heart hums on
withdrawing the emanation
in time dissolved peace
June 1 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Job 7-9
Key Verse – Job 7:17 What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO SETS HIS HEART UPON US
Praise be to God for setting His heart upon us with His:
Absolute pardon for our sins
Abundant provisions with His supply
Assured preservation midst His salvation
Affirmative promises toward our satisfaction
Assertive power for our supplications along His sustenance
Job 8:5 Praise be to the Lord for inviting us to seek Him while we:
Bow to Him with our praises, blest
Boast about His providence, always best
Bask in His perfection by His performance-brand
Bend before His presence, praying based on the Bible
Brace our backbone’s buttress upon His building-up Book
Job 9:13 Praise be to the Saviour for
withdrawing His anger against us:
Calming us from our fears
Charging our faith’s fortitude
Comforting us by His forgiveness
Compassionately calling us to face His fixing
Challenging us to find ourselves in His faithfulness. Amen!
June 1, 2024
The election of 2024
Presents an existential choice
Which old white grandpa dude
Both past their prime time
Do you support for president?
Friendly, grandpa
Who has been president
For the last three years?
Presiding over a decent economic expansion
Amid war in Europe and the Mid-east.
Or the former chaos president
Facing multiple court cases
Owing settlements for fraud
Sexual assault and defamation?
Who promises more chaos
And retribution against his enemies
In the deep state, and media.
Calling them all communists
As if an international communist threat
Was it still a thing?
Promising to deport
Illegal aliens
And possibly withdrawing from nato
And other alliances,
and impose crippling tarrifs
on all imports?
Yet to his supporters
Has been anointed by god
To vanquish his enemies.
or vote for RFJ, JR
or Cornel West
or Jill Stein
or the libertarian candidate
or just boycott the election.
staying home in disgust.
Sadly, that is our choice
On election day.
The way we look, nonjudgmental,
our heart mindful and touch gentle.
Aware then of magnetic heat,
we meld with God’s sublime bliss beat.
Soul shift is from noise to silence,
ending all thought borne violence.
Once ego from mind we unseat,
we meld with God’s sublime bliss beat.
In love’s womb, opposites dissolve,
paving way for soul to evolve.
As polarities meet and greet,
we meld with God’s sublime bliss beat.
Withdrawing both senses and mind,
we make embrace tender and kind.
Head bowed low at His lotus feet,
we meld with God’s sublime bliss beat.
Water takes on form
determined by the container
Its main characteristic
forever to move downward
An army’s defenses
should act like water
Filling in the empty spaces
of the attacker’s weakness
Where mind and spirit meet
darkness turns to daylight
Once you luminate the battlefield
you can counter at any time
When your will pierces
the enemy’s fear and turns it against them
You swallow their spirit
digesting it whole
Advancing as one
withdrawing as one
Victory of great consequence
knows no other way
Winning flows in torrents
through the heart of the commander
Whose soldiers fight through strength of hand
—in currents to define
(Dreamsleep: November, 2023)
I have walked about as far
as I can go before a weariness
threatens to withdraw the pleasure
of the evening light and the easy
mood of the park. The fountain
that had spurted and splashed
all day has withdrawn back
into its nightlong still
and caught a rising moon
in its mirrored skirt.
I sit and close my eyes
and feel the world withdrawing
into somewhere else
as I let go each sound
into a growing quiet.
It's becoming harder to hold
myself here rather than
to float off where
the sounds go and all things
not anchored to a self
find a place in the night.
It would be good to go there
and see each atom
of who I am settle
a stillness stretched across
time and space and there,
become part of what
mirrors light
even if it's for no more
than the length
of an earthly night.
24 hours
alone with myself
the road goes on and on
24 hours
in my own space
exemption rides along
24 hours
eternity breached
its imagery returns
24 hours
tomorrow today
whose light forever burns
24 hours
becoming undone
the parts fall back in place
24 hours
the wind at my back
withdrawing from the race
24 hours
a voice calls my name
in birth year reverie
24 hours
my soul to reclaim
in what was meant to be
24 hours
Kerouac damned
a false reflection shown
24 hours
each road sign that calls
direction out on loan
24 hours
the moment reframed
once lost but now refound
24 hours
24 lifetimes
—inward outward bound
(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)
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