Details |
Exception Oj Poem
I am on a journey
life, the mother-dog
and I' just a puppy:
Knowing nothing'
but pain...animosity
embraced only'
by vain and daily cruelty'
my hopeless body disheveled:
upon the frosty dust'
about where I'm helplessly tossed-
hurting- man in resentful toil
all' to know' ends foiled:
Got then the soul of man' seeking his Creator
but mystified by the muteness of a mysterious nature
or apparently too weary now' our ears' to hear God:
ignoble man' retarded now' in the ignoble dark,
from the light of love' which gave he' his back:
his soul' now enmeshed
in the ballast of hideous strife and agony'
his vain miserable days' now entrenched.
Oh... all this' chose he' in his own folly....
and might never all the way' the grace of existing' feel
unless he is taken down the gully...
O how saddening:
the grasp of a battered soul
yet so young
but already turned old
rueful of his untold coming
but no going back into mother's tummy.
The awareness, how late!
Where heads now my fate:
in this journey...
Copyright © Exception Oj | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Exception Oj Poem
Where lies a better place?
Where lies the dream place?
Indeed' the dream place-
as we, for once, have not being there;
and as well' a dreamless place,
as we hope' not to find us' in want there.
Where lies a better man?
Where lies the new man?
A man void of evil inclinations-
knowing neither good nor evil;
entirely unknown to ambition
but in all things lowly and simple.
Such man must' of his goodness' be unconscious
and of his inbred kindness' posed oblivious;
as they are' in him then' designed so
and his will' by reflex' he finds so:
no longer trying to be good,
but he now is again wholly good.
Is such a man found here?
No! never can he be found here.
Except in the place to come anew-
that dream place utterly dreamless;
where there are neither many nor few;
nothing to contend with nor compare-
for everything and everyone shall be beautiful-
knowing neither sorrow nor a tear.
How shall this come to pass?
How now can this truly be?
How yet long does this madness last?
When truly free shall we be?-
from the curse of existential misery:
nothing-else fulfilling but being free.
Free! not because i'm dead-
but from rancor and envy:
free! indeed like a bird-
from unnecessary strife and cruelty-
which now is man's abode-
in his ill heart due for anew
and the pollution must erode
before he is truly free.
Shall this' truly' one day, be?-
O God' just and true:
please, make this' swiftly be-
for thy words yet proves just and true
and shall' through this wilderness' lead
our confused souls through' to a new.
Upon thine Word' i trust-
for a new...
Copyright © Exception Oj | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Exception Oj Poem
Where lies a better place?
Where lies the dream place?
Indeed' the dream place-
as we, for once, have not being there;
and as well' a dreamless place,
as we hope' not to find us' in want there.
Where lies a better man?
Where lies the new man?
A man void of evil inclinations-
knowing neither good nor evil;
entirely unknown to ambition
but in all things lowly and simple.
Such man must' of his goodness' be unconscious
and of his inbred kindness' posed oblivious;
as they are' in him then' designed so
and his will' by reflex' he finds so:
no longer trying to be good,
but he now is again wholly good.
Is such a man found here?
No! never can he be found here.
Except in the place to come anew-
that dream place utterly dreamless;
where there are neither many nor few;
nothing to contend with nor compare-
for everything and everyone shall be beautiful-
knowing neither sorrow nor a tear.
How shall this come to pass?
How now can this truly be?
How yet long does this madness last?
When truly free shall we be?-
from the curse of existential misery:
nothing-else fulfilling but being free.
Free! not because i'm dead-
but from rancor and envy:
free! indeed like a bird-
from unnecessary strife and cruelty-
which now is man's abode-
in his ill heart due for anew
and the pollution must erode
before he is truly free.
Shall this' truly' one day, be?-
O God' just and true:
please, make this' swiftly be-
for thy words yet proves just and true
and shall' through this wilderness' lead
our confused souls through' to a new.
Upon thine Word' i trust-
for a new...
Copyright © Exception Oj | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Exception Oj Poem
Where lies a better place?
Where lies the dream place?
Indeed' the dream place-
as we, for once, have not being there;
and as well' a dreamless place,
as we hope' not to find us' in want there.
Where lies a better man?
Where lies the new man?
A man void of evil inclinations-
knowing neither good nor evil;
entirely unknown to ambition
but in all things lowly and simple.
Such man must' of his goodness' be unconscious
and of his inbred kindness' posed oblivious;
as they are' in him then' designed so
and his will' by reflex' he finds so:
no longer trying to be good,
but he now is again wholly good.
Is such a man found here?
No! never can he be found here.
Except in the place to come anew-
that dream place utterly dreamless;
where there are neither many nor few;
nothing to contend with nor compare-
for everything and everyone shall be beautiful-
knowing neither sorrow nor a tear.
How shall this come to pass?
How now can this truly be?
How yet long does this madness last?
When truly free shall we be?-
from the curse of existential misery:
nothing-else fulfilling but being free.
Free! not because i'm dead-
but from rancor and envy:
free! indeed like a bird-
from unnecessary strife and cruelty-
which now is man's abode-
in his ill heart due for anew
and the pollution must erode
before he is truly free.
Shall this' truly' one day, be?-
O God' just and true:
please, make this' swiftly be-
for thy words yet proves just and true
and shall' through this wilderness' lead
our confused souls through' to a new.
Upon thine Word' i trust-
for a new...
Copyright © Exception Oj | Year Posted 2013
|