Religions tend to be
Dualistic
But the Mystical Realm
And the Realm of the Erotic
Are actually
Parallel Dimensions of Reality
Rather than being
In conflict with one another.
Ormond 11h
.
"I shall welcome the majesty of the virgin
Loam, the honour of being the daisies mantle
The goodly fortune to sleep under the golden
Stars who birthed my dream of grace and light.

World, ply my ship and sail it to the seas
Of love, poem and song, I proved unworthy
Shaper and so, whereby cold fates decree—
Here lies one, whose name is traced in vapour."
.
Ormond 6d
.
Crow in the sun so black,
You are blue, a dark shining
On the green innocent lawn.

Crow in the sun creeping,
On land you are awkward,
In the sky you are blotting.

Crow in the laze of the day,
Your eyes are unbalancing
In the gardens overgrown.

Crow in the sun so black,
You are shimmering dread,
On the green unkept lawns.
.
Cos Lib 7d
While secret angels watch my steps
I walk inside a maze at night
I've heard about an ancient myth
excitement grows, so I turn right

I find small cracks in glossy walls
the maze it lights all by itself
how could this be? Inside this cleft?
I walk and wonder, then turn left.

No, right it was, or how was this?
I get confused by all this “same”,
all cracked up walls, although in light
I start to feel the loss of bliss.

How could I think that this was smart!
Or wait a minute - never did,
just heard this myth and wanted more,
it speaked all clear and bright to heart.

And now, the longest passageway,
in endless steps I walk again
and maybe now I wished I stayed
in velvet bed, escaped from rain.

But here I am, oh well I might
as well begin to find the trail
I dreamt of clouds and ancient arts
and in this room: I found The Grail.

But now I heard this strangest noise
a growl or something from within
it was like screams from forest depths
and I'm quite sure it's not my kin.

I want to turn, to go back home,
but all behind me stops to glow
It's like I need to see and choose
what's done is done, and now I know.

So choice is made, I have to walk
towards this creature in the night
although the screams get to my bones,
I walk with safe and loving light.

Oh my, these walls! But finally!
I get to see an end in sight,
and now, this ends quite frightfully
my meeting with the darkest night.

And there it is, this beast of old
it searches in the open air
a beast like this with feet of mold
with dirty, smelly, ugly hair.

It senses me, yes this I see,
but now it's quiet as myself
it's like it asks me of my plea
it hurts and cries - like inner self.

At end I dare to get it close,
it's blind, it doesn't see me there,
but oh, it senses and it knows
and in its eye I see a tear.

I touch its head, and then I feel,
this growling deep inside of me
a sorrow lost, I need to kneel
I need to set this feeling free.

And now the beast, it starts to glow,
its eyes can see the sights again,
and I feel inner peace and flow
and heavy, healing, pouring rain.

The secret angels reappear
and give me smiles of warmth and love
they free the beast from chain and snare
and then return back to above.

At last I stand, alone in maze
I thought was meant for Holy Grail
but all was test of inner praise
of mind and body, although frail.
Look
I take out
The spectacles

Now
I will see
How the world looks like
Through your eyes

I want to see
What you see
Near and Far
Even broader

Where faith lies
Genre: Spiritual Inspirational
Theme: Close Eyes Of Buddha
Ormond Jul 6
(Sonnet)

Owl, silhouette of lilting sun,
Sentinel on branch, fingering out
Death, the sky, bleeding darkness rung
On the skeleton of ancient trees,
Your eyes are apparition, eternal flame,
Oracle of palliative, divining moon,
Which doles out fettered wisdom, misery
Cloaked in smokes, deep darkening dusk
Loud as silence in wide plains open,
That flay as creeping deserts do unravel,
O how wanton moon shouts like feather death;
Merest whisper as pale wanes on a bough,
Like some wraith, in whirls, conjures mercy,
Only to rail like gust in cupped tempest.
.
Simra Sadaf Jun 28
she weaved lies into her words
that seemed like light,
what a candle does to the dark,
the way your eyes turned bright,
turned brighter,
as you soaked in all the lies,

you wrapped your heart and
left it beside her bed,
she opened it desiring something
materialistic,
it's true, the laws of love and morals
are long dead,
and you sit there writing about better days like a mystic,

your faith and emotions in darkness now languish,
falling into pieces with this never ending anguish,
haunting memories, feeling diminished by sobriety,
you get drunk in the wine of morose poetry.
It’s a delight to know the fear,
providing a loss of life. With
only the moon that wears
feathers from phoenix. Gold
drippings and arch of eternity.
Rebirth not from water, but of
soul selling to herself, in
innovation and originality. As
the others emulate. Starlight
allure, speaking languages
with humanities musings.
Waking the dead world, dropping
men to their knees as their
boyish behavior is pulled to the
front. Relinquishment of dogma,
as we all enter a new age.
As chanting songs in homage
to her. As no more tears to cry,
to what she avoided in the first
place, is attention from others,
pushing away romantic gestures,
conversing conversations, a
standard practice of life’s narrative.
JAMIL HUSSAIN Jun 17
Ecstatic
You  l e a v e  me
With your manner of veiling
N o w,  emerge  in  my  h e a r t
And  let  me  treasure  you
O’ manifestation
Of  love

✒ ℐamil Hussain
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