#renunciation
None, possessed
A river in truths times
Spare to sore heads...
A luck with a name for their crimes...
Sovereignty, finished
Please me, with a talk
Of the station, of a noble religion
When wishes seek the hand of angels, world's balk...
Sharing the levity, wished
Becoming a decision's shadow...
Has the voice of a pale insight, to mention
Glare at me all you want, a word to owe...
Craving essence, arrange
Our lives into a silent poise
Set in a secret's language, a ruley fade
Of stomached purpose, with a shoulder of choice...
Calling simple, more
Is like a shred of human decency
With a world to adjust to many, liberty to form
We have our reward, a terror in a shy family...
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 2:37 PM UTC
Revving up the engine
of the gleaming funky machine
before zooming around, gave her
such an Adrenalin high, nonperil.
The constant ****** no guy ever could
promise, this act gives her.
She is pleased for that moment,
gets ready for the ****** rigmarole,
the very next second.
She gets jealous of her
own story, ever heard of that?
On the race course and the spread bed
alike her ebullience creates
tsunami waves,broke long standing records.
When you run fast enough
there comes a moment,when
there is no record left to break!
and the beds, you guessed right,
all are broken, made redundant.
And then the inevitable happens,
she smells leaking gas, panics,
freezes on the track, shuddering,
switches off quickly the engine
of her dream machine,her heartbeat,
makes the final escape,spontaneously,
without delay, decides to renounce
worldly pleasures altogether,
up to the Himalayas goes by foot, seeking
that thing which in life she missed all along,
Finds silver light's play on ice caps, and realize this:
she was walking through a dark, dark tunnel ,
of self-deception,"Affluenza" was indeed her affliction.
The Himalayan snow cap, loomed large as an attraction,
in her dreams once, now seemed less formidable, at arm's length,
"What a Guru,who looked timelessly ancient,
jokingly predicted once, comes true here"she muses.
Her trek upwards resumes with a vengeance.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
Power and military acumen to the mighty king
were the true weapons of conquest in his possession,
til the time marauding made him squirm with pleasure
went on his trail of terror, destruction and subjugation.
Many wars won;no bloodbath to this iron willed one
ever seemed different from any other, victory was routine
then came a rare moment of pause, a sudden bend
in the path of a roaring river,initiating change.
"It's time to put down this blood splattered crown
envy of others, but weighing me heavily down"
Frenzied, in no time he removed the thorny crown
and every bit that embellished him from head to toe
in naked glory he stood before the mirror, but why
couldn't he look for a long moment in his own eyes?
"All I see is an architecture of muscles, nerves and blood
on a skeletal frame, no different it is from any other
just lingering further, all one can see is dead matter waiting
to dissipate in to elements, when the time rings bell"
(words of his Guru, long long forgotten, came alive)
"The bird is bound to this cage,with elements for a time
in a flash, it would pass,where then is the bird's true abode?"
All the wars won, achieved only the creation of cycles of pain
countries taken over by brute force,women taken as trophy,
loads of gold, diamonds and riches; just footnotes of an epitaph
"To search and find what really matters, that transcends time"
was the famous last words, before the conqueror's renunciation.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:27 PM UTC
Stack up. Second man, remember to cover right
and keep your elbow out
so third doesn't catch the door
swinging back on hinges.
Here comes the rock
1
2
3
and the rush.
I've come here to do business tonight,
business with that personal devil
on his aching throne.
Memories to sift through
experiences to re-live
and renounce.
One can't simply shoot
at a conception that needs
to die.
And here I come again,
pushing through wreckage
and half formed nightmares
wailing at the sky.
"I have come, in spite of myself,
to practice the acts of forgiveness
upon you who have stolen so much."
You who have subverted my love
and my hope
and my faith.
You who burned into me your belief
that everything and everyone
has a price.
You that made me into less than a man,
who corrupted my heart
and taught me to laugh at Love as folly.
For these sins I forgive you my Father
not for your sake
but for my own.
All that I have done and not done
as a result of believing you
is over. Ex Nihilo
Here is my sword,
ill used.
Here is my horse,
lame and ******
Here is my lance,
splintered.
Here is my armour,
rusted and heavy.
Take back these things given unto me
I have no need of them
on this new journey.
I go now,
with or without
she whom I love,
to create beautiful things,
to bring light and peace,
to be a true human being,
to live my own life
rather than trying to atone
for yours.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
From ever the time
we can count, this is the lot
of the artist, of the subtle
and unseen, the lover
who sees with the heart:
withdrawal
from the workings of this
insensitive world,
where violence rules, and
vengeance is justified.
A wheel set in motion
of long that has
no end in sight,
of which, no solution
but to
renounce.
The only way, one who feels
may hope to do anything
is by self-transformation.
In the hour of solitude
by a brook or the tide
when the wind turns a page
in the wild, the eternal can
whisper to the soul:
and in this, the deliverance
for one who
sees with the heart.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC