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Tobias Engkvist Dec 2014
Float in silence
Feel the currents flow

Wishing for words of substance to pour
Is empty grasping, nothing more

Trembling lips utter only stutters
And stumble over sentences out worn

Let the waves settle
Hear the winds whisper for better weather

As a child of the sky
Realize that the ocean in which we’re drowning

Is the mirror reflecting the stars
And we are the horizon

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
Om Shanti ocean mirror flow
Star BG  Mar 2018
OM Shanti Om
Star BG Mar 2018
OM Shanti Om
I radiate peace
in breath in moment
in actions as I walk in grace.

Om Shanti Om
I echo with peace
as I take meditative stance
to align with heart.

Om Shanti Om
I emit love
into the world
so it awakens
and we all live in peace.
Inspired by Oprah/ Chopra meditation day three
K Balachandran Mar 2015
She is a succulent bunch,let me be helpful,
if you don't get the complex chemical scent,
I call her ,"a girl of unpredictable
meeting places"inotropic, is her effect,
She sends heartbeats way up.
Delectable too, she was, every time
I tasted certain parts of her.
Her avatars are numerous, like Hindu Gods
With specific  intention for each incarnation
Onee will be pushed in to neurosis,
if doesn't completely relish her infinite variety.
She is a cryptic mystic,
for a while  from signals
I discerned and firmly believed
Or is she just a  creature mysterious
Doubt raises it's head, like a lotus
From slushy pond
My eyes met her at the level of  her eyes first,
the rest in a haze to me was invisible,
Then my heart sends a message
"Right now, I missed a beat here"
Heart then recites a poem,
tells me, it is all her making
"Don't fall in love" heart's advice,
"Go, dissolve in her completely"
Even my own heart has crossed sides,
or is it truly an advice for my sake?
Love is a hallucinogen, get it?
she whistles like wind at bamboo groves
from within sings like a thrush,
she is a magpie, or is she a koel?
Nocturnal animal, in need of mating,
making calls, frantic SMS, incessant.
She is wind and water, elements
that make one burn and drown
She spreads her yoga mat on the floor,
asks me to sit cross legged Indian style,
I am already for that in my mind,
So I spread eagle in corpse pose, indicating, "All through my life", mother earth gives me warmth.
          Shanti,   Shanti,   shanti
Khoisan  Dec 2018
A shanti mantra
Khoisan Dec 2018
Her
master
was
humbled
Like a bird
of
paradise
She
opened up her wings
Her
angelic voice
chanting
A
mantra
of
peace
was
observed
May peace reside in all your
Hearts
Over this festive season
stardust707 Oct 2014
Middle aged dancing moon, rising sun coming of age poem
Some times you shave your legs sometimes you wax
You are a river of gold, a poetry goddess
You are the definition of ****, **** and cool lady
Your skin a tan wonder, Aphrodite will envy with her immortal soul
Not just another girl
Woman, woman, woman
Your lion like mane blowing over purple mountain tops
Imagine a world without.
Your Litheness invokes the green eyed monster in the gods
Not just another girl
Om shanti shanti
Peace in the echo
The echo of love
Protect us like the hope of Zion

Walk in the echo
The echo of past
Learn from mistakes -
Insanity is doing the same
Over and over
Expecting different results

They say war
Brings about peace

Insanity
Yeah - them suits insane

Jah over all,
What must be will be
All temples fall
And with them bring peace

Peace in the echo
The echo of love
Protect us like the warmth of Sun

Govern yourself
Don't give in
Keep your will
Protect yourself
From their sin
Stand up still
Release yourself
To within
Keep your will

The day of revelation
Shines like supernova
Stardust in color
A reflection of Star

On the rocks of discarded dust
Lands life of decay and rust
Without death,
There'd be no life
And thus, the wilt is no bust

Balance

For each day, a night
For each night, a day

To keep order within chaos
Listening to each wind blowing
Will reveal and lead the communication
Leon Labastide Aug 2013
iHonor the history of my ancestors
And their ***** love songs: Nyabinghi
Crossing the Atlantic  with their creative minds
Rooted into their backbones was creative; Black men and women of today
A generation of;  
Bobo Shanti!
Baganda
Niger Congo
Sierra Leone
Bushmen
Kings and Queens of Africa

iHonor my history
But, my history is in Him
The King of Kings

Dreams hanging on a tree!
Kings and Queens hanging form a  rope nailed to a tree!
They were auctioned off a d sold in corner stores like Bodegas!
Please don’t forget about your ancestors when you speak about History!
He was rejected in the time of earthly kings and Queens
He was rejected in the time of Exodus
He was rejected in the time of redemption songs/ Babylon!

He was rejected at birth
He was rejected for calling Himself
"I am thee I am"
His purpose killed Him
He was rejected, but his purpose lives.

iHonor the King of Kings for being the sacrificial lamb of all Mortars
iHonor Him

Some kings rule their kingdoms surrounded by luxury
this king held a Bible in his hand
stood tall before Nations
with a single dream!
No luxuries!

This king was rejected!
He was shot!
Here comes the dream killers
A voice of a black Panther cried
“what their; guns, bats & smoke bums”
Have mothers clenching their young's
Running down to avenues unknown
To street that are paved with hopeless dreams and  goals

Because of  Dr. Martin Luther King and His Dream
Mothers were crying, digging graves with their finger nails.
Bering their dreams and aspiration into graves!
grave yards became over populated
With creative minds and dreams!

iHonor  Dr Martin Luther King Jr, for dreaming & believing
That whites & blacks will  become  one Nation under the King of Kings
iHonor Him

To my generation and to generation to come,
Where is creativity today!
Creativity was lost, unable to find!
So different things start to shape the mind
Creativity is something we watch on TV
Creativity has become an illusion
what a poor substitution

The mind is a beautiful thing to waste!
Creativity is in the wave pool of our minds
Mothers read to your young  from the womb
Bring creativity and dreams back to life

Doctor Seuss was creating a world of creativity in the minds of our  generation!
I think I can, I think I can was another book that brought creativity to life!

If a Cat can wear a hat
A fox can wear  socks
A boy by the name of Sam I Am, love green eggs and ham!
He can eat it in a box, with a fox!
In a house with a mouse!
With a goat on a boat!
So, who are you to tell me I'm not a "who"
Doctor Seuss created the Who's and the Who Ville!
Therefore I am a Who!
Who are you!

iHonor black mothers and fathers for being
present and never absent/ for being super heroes of monsters in closets.

iHonor my black people for uniting together from the 1960's to 2013
iHonor Mrs. King
iHonor Dr. Martin Luther King
iHonor the King of kings
iHonor all those individuals that made it possible for us to vote today
iHonor you all!
iHonor!
Sophia Gaffney Mar 2016
16 Million
16 million babies each year are engineered by teen mothers
But lets look a little smaller
273,105
Girls who annually contrive babies to life in the United States
But lets divide that number down further
35,249
Adolescent girls whose lives become defined by a child in the state of California alone
But once more lets focus in even smaller
1.
One Athena Young.
Standing slightly over 5 feet tall, with chocolate kissed skin shelling her strong build and a wide white smile full of joyous laughter that covers convincingly that which you would only know if you asked her: that she is a teen mother whose heart and soul has sufficiently suffered.

Perhaps from birth she didn’t stand a chance
Pushed out of the womb to a path of dissonance between success and endurance
A low class family whose glance rests not on her best advance but on their personal pleasure
So on they prance leaving her alone at night to fend for her own life.
And as she navigates this path she is stopped in a trance of seemingly endless romance
That swept her up into a dance that waltzed whimsically one night to her bedroom where she let this boy advance into her pants.
And that once seemingly endless romance crash lands as he implants into her the blow that log jams her path of success and sling shots her to side of endurance.
Fraught and distraught because she was never taught how to not by the people who brought her into the world
Or maybe to spite the strife they have placed in her life because as words from her sorrowed soul said “its when you don’t care about disappointing someone that bad things happen”…
And happen they did as we bid goodbye to the boy who didn’t try to be a father to his joy and pride or a husband to a bride
But instead strode out of sight with a gun at his side to a land that didn’t care whether he lived or he died because he refused to stay true to the girl tangled in his tango.
Left her glued to a growing womb
A single struggling parent, seclusion and confusion in raising a brilliant baby girl in this wicked world she had not yet navigated herself.
And grades started to drop as her life was dragged and dropped to 4 different spots within 3 sun cycle slots.
She said if only they had known that chaos that was going on at home
And the baby that was growing then they could have shown her grace and love…
But they would soon know and throw her out with doubt that she could complete courses while her veins coursed with blood to flood nutrients to nourish her new fetus.
Alone.
No comfortable home.
A lack of understanding left her with no friends to call her own.
No potential for preferential favor on this jagged darkening path too well known.
Abandoned
When suddenly a light landed and handed her a second chance to better advance
To move past her heart-break romance
Her families abstinence,
Her friends distance,
Her schools disinterest.
What was this glorious light?
The alternative high school Mark Twain,
Provided shelter in the acid rain of isolation and pain,
Tamed the sinister storm that reigned and splayed her life into disarray.
For Shanti, a beautifully big-eyed bubbly baby,
Twain gave certain shelter and care from an elder so health could bury deep and fester while her mother, her positive protector, could center on gaining a degree that in theory will better their cumulative future.

But perhaps the hill to highlight is the hunk of hamlet handed to her.
A gallant group of life-giving girls, warrior women who baked and bore and breathed life into children.
Allowing her alienating anomie to be history by fulfilling her need for meaningful community. People who can share relating stories of baby daddy drama, family problems, baby progress. They understood and gave value to a valiant victor whose violent world had previously brought her bitter.
There was room to be a mother,
And room to be just another teenager
A people that taught her to lead her daughter to grow up with honor of her soul’s armor so the similar story would not cycler any further.
And her giving advice to her fellow friends raising soon to be men to avoid the vice she strides against, to teach their boys “to not leave the girl”, striving and fighting to brighten the bleak world that they are no longer merely surviving but thriving in with the aid of the high school who looks past the “normal” and “socially acceptable” and to the broken and vulnerable.
Now she sits.
Waiting.
Anticipating.
The degree her hands will soon hold.
The college campus her calloused feet will soon conquer.
Seeing her dreams of being a military general driving down the street towards reality
Thanks to the inspiring community.

So 1.
One Athena Young.
One out of 16 million moms
Whose once overcast life has forever been spun to the ever-brightening sun
By a school that showed her love and
By friendships that fought to rise above.
wehttam  Jun 2014
The Lion's Sin
wehttam Jun 2014
Uhrde' eahai’ el.

EaShe'sheti... EaShe'sheti Eye...
I're...
Selah... Selase'eye'...
Esh'real...
Esh'uriel... Eshurd-ay-I...
Jamowhe'... Ashanti E'yai...
Ashanti Ashanti Ashanti I...
This daylight does not live in a box of dreams. Selam Malen Kaye'm.
For surely the angel of light worships the dream.
Sela amo' I....
Ashanti I.
The color of feather.
Selah.
In truth (light) of light…
darkness falls.
Crimena is not committed until pentance is revealed.
The spirit of Peter (Pentecost) weighs the salvation of Selah.
Selahse' 'I"  
Our King worships life
work for substance at the tree of life.
Shanti Lyre'…  Ashanti Lyre’
A shanti... 'I'
The Prayer of Shame...
Our Change.
Azhasurea 'I'
Azhasuras.
For the measure of man has not chalice; the chaste' is not measured in another eye.
It is the spy Gabriel in the urn of the grail.
Uriel…
Gabriel…
Michiael…
Samiael…
Matisyaweih… Ehyre’
Eshre’I el… Eshurdae'i…
Danae'l… Eshurdae'i el
Selah Sela' se' amare' ah.
Amen.
There are two at two chali'. There are two at two chalices. Chali. Cali'. Californiael. The me'rcha'nt of war is walking backward out of the grail for chalice.
Shall I. Make Michiael a sword.
Or shall I make Michiael.
Ashanti I.
Amen.
California= Caliphas. Chi'el.
Ashure'Ire'.
My sword.
The earth found underneath the Prophet Daniel.
Nikki Jayne  Jun 2018
Time to fly
Nikki Jayne Jun 2018
Saying good bye ant an easy thing to do
Especially saying good bye to you
I thank you my friends for this time spent
I thank you for being you

I spread my wings and fly away and head into the sun
Letting the wind take me on its way
Soaring down this crystal mountain with a soul fulled
With love peace and harmony

Follow your hearts dear
Follow your light to where your soul shines bright
Allow yourself to see your essence
You are one of life's true gifts

So I Spread my wings and fly away  
and dip into the wind
mother earth guiding my way
Where ever I am know my friend
You can always come and stay

Heading in the direction of my souls calling
Feeling fear within
The age old game the ego likes to play
This time it won't win
Ive got more tools in my kiti
More love than ever before
Know that I'll carry you with me
As i turn and head out the door

So I spread my wings and float away
Allowing myself to be
The full expression of my inner light
The great gift you could have given me
This freedom to be me

Where I'll go no one knows
Now It's time to fly away
Where I'll go no one knows
Now It's time to fly away

Anahata
I wish you peace
Shanti shanti shanti
End of a chapter
Donall Dempsey Jan 2016
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG BOY

Tom is 9
going on 10

& pens
" a few little verses

about the sadness
of having to

start school
again

every Monday morning."

Already young
Master Eliot

can see
THE WASTELAND

spreading out
before him.

"Monday is the cruellest day
breeding Mathematics

out of the deadened brain!"

"****...**** it...**** ya!"

"Language Thomas...language!"

"Shhhhh ...Tom...shushhhh!"
I comfort him.

"Shanti...shanti...shanti."
Valerie Eliot tells this tale of Tom when asked when he started writing and if there was anything left of such early efforts. This little bric-a-brac of emotion from Eliot's early early youth showed that the child was indeed the father of the man!

Reading INVENTIONS OF THE MAD HARE...showing Eliot's early work in its raw notebook state was a real delight for an Eliotian like me! Valerie's little reflection on Tom's early efforts always amused me and I could imagine him then being of the same demeanour as the Tom of the Waste Land. The poem is a way of giving the little fella a hug 'cos I felt the same way myself about schools and Monday morning.
Joanna Oz  Jun 2015
morning lite.
Joanna Oz Jun 2015
these quiet morning moments weaving through
my heart's loom,
stitching glimmering thread
softly into my bed sheets.
the look in your eyes as we wake and  simultaneously
spiral back into each other -
vine wrapped delicately round the tree bark.
hands holding skin and unspoken words,
cradling a newborn slurring smiles in return.
yawning fingers intent on methodically massaging out
knots and jagged gaps,
reminded to not mold, reminded to let moments unfold, reminded to not hold on
too long.
tranquility in tender lips, airy down the spine,
reclining a mind bent over fever dreams,
gently tugging it back to reality.
grounding toes and cracking bones
and stretching an intimacy in patient growth.
set the day's metronome to the swsh-swsh of bristles on sleepy teeth,
swsh-swsh-swsh-swsh trying not to giggle spit sticky wishes,
tempering my touch with a lagging time piece,
keeping hasty hankerings in a box at my feet.
breathing the unmistakable scent of you in deep -
shanti shanti shanti
whispered across heavy-lidded eyes.
let me steep
my longing with tea leaves,
come drink the morning sky with me.

— The End —