"ataraxia" poems
Relax, begin to Imagine you are in the proximity
to immerse yourself into a precious moment.
It is that needed time you have brought into being, and is intrinsic
to experience composure, equanimity.
Smooth - melodic - ambient music with simple cause,
low and soft will, in its incipiency invalidate
trending previous troublesome thoughts,
silkily, sauntering, lingeringly pauses,
to softly embrace your audible senses
with silence which conveys complete assurance,
that the here and now is yours, no-one elses,
ataraxia created by you, for your true inner self,
It continues; envelops remaining unsettled interruption
embraces the heart, and encourages serenity,
all the remaining negative, solicitous intellection
are temporarily, tipped out of your consciousness,
you are experiencing them leave, then transcended
with blissful tranquillity for your indulgence.
You are asleep with your eyes open, it feels so benefic,
the mind is calm and clear no longer confused.
Melodious sound continues to provide atmospheric
momentum to this sensibility folding into the soul.
Joyfully you are enduring moments of pure inner solitude and
wrapped in perfect peace, consciousness uncommitted.
There is no expectation of time, not at all
just the psyche drifting, changing shape, density, profundity.
You feel wonderfully restituted, calmed; uplifted.
You sense it, knowing, this absence of tension you sought,
this, your perfect you, is transient and will slowly begin to regress, reluctantly,
relinquishing this blissfully serene, conditioned emotional stillness, to be restored.
Then you turn the telly on! All gone.
Michael C Crowder March 5th 2019
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
knuckles ache
peel back the page:
Aurelius, Seneca, Epictetus
cluck the tongue
boys outside throw jabs
over a cracked
cricket bat
a father frets over
investments and client work,
simple things.
I read on
wondering how so many words
committed to tranquility
could be attributed to so many men
when women
trained stoics since the womb
would pen epics -
if only they were not plucking stones from rice.
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 10:17 AM UTC
2012
the boy was like sun rays falling from a blue sky. his hair was shining blonde and flew in the wind, his eyes were the perfect blue, azure like a pure sky, tranquil like a warm sea. he was bones and skin, but knew not the weight of sin. he was on a quest for ataraxia, he was selfless, he was kind. he had wings and a halo shining above his blonde head, he was my guardian angel for a year and 2 months. he was the ambulance, he was the desire. he was the first. when the "hospital" prison gates came clamoring shut on my face, he ran far, far away. he found another shining blonde head with sky blue eyes to bury his love into. the distance was our downfall.
2013
the boy was earthy, he was brown eyed like oak trees, his veins the limbs, his heart the roots. i poisoned him with nicotine. we kept our brown eyes in the forests with polluted rivers running astray, we told our secrets with no fear. he was selfish, he was keen on his own way. he could not see past his own eyes. brown and murky was his world, diseased ones followed him home. he tried. i tried. we failed.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
I want to run barefoot
But the bitter cold will blister my toes
And I want to pick flowers
But the winter winds have blown them all away,
The cold has crippled them to their death.
I want a friend that doesn't melt
Once time runs it's course
A love that doesn't halt
To drown you in remorse.
I want a river that won't freeze
When the temperature gets too low
I want the solemn summer breeze,
Not the cold winds that now blow.
They call it seasonal affective disorder,
Where the sun turns away from us,
You bury your shame in mortar
And the ice crystals bring back your blush
In those full cheeks, with no relief
We sing for the days we lost.
Pain is just a lowly cost
For the ataraxia to come.
So bite your nails till they bleed,
And pick away at the scars you made
Soon enough you will find what you need
As the seasons change, you must take it day by day.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
Vertigo
beneath the moons shadow
rough rope gripped
between trembling fingers
spinning stars
silence
a solitary wind teased my face
toes brushed dew-gilded ground
I leaned backwards
as if folding into the silky embrace
of darkness
eyes closed
the nearest my wingless form
could get to soaring
Slipping back to earth
I took a flying leap
throwing myself onto the
mere slip of a swing
breathless
weightless
the world tilted like an axis off kilter
There, in the stillness of the moment
I feasted my gaze on the way
the trees reached upward
as if they too, were searching
for something
Reality, right then, felt fragile
I dared not blink
for fear of breaking the spell
nothing existed outside
blinking fireflies
the wind as it enfolded around me
and I
gorging to gain the weight
my soul had lost.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
Whole world seemed so filled with you in it.
But the moment you left, it had an unfulfilled void in it .
You were there in that room talking to me , all animated and
next inanimation followed up .
When you left us , you took the pleasure of being in your company.
With your death what came upon me was all Ataraxia .
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
The dews of heaven
She downs like the morning
A mellifluous creature, surfed ashore
Myrtle amid thorns; Quiescent
Heart of a royal; highness
Resplendent in garment of sapphire; radiant
The lady gouldian finch
Melodies inspires ataraxia
Beautific as wysteria
It’s her loving heart beaming smiles
Stretches as thousand miles
Incandescent as candle on a hill
Beacon of hope
Oh hear
The susurrations of a Gold-Mantled Rosella .
Tj. kwame
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
Dull throbbing twilight.
I bit my tongue so
hard it bled.
A voice spoke:
said she'll be in Europe,
unmerged.
I will be in Europe.
Take
this moment alone
to hide behind the earth.
Pain as an open door,
forward motion encouraged.
Written word repeated today:
begin your _year_.
Robed in fluid, and in hurt,
obsequious dead
anchored
In dusted pillars rise.
An object held motionless by the sun’s gaze.
A vital outpouring of stillness,
as ninety degrees of intensifying steps
cascade like waterfalls.
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
Just as perfect
As the music is painful
They took their time
Piece by piece
Placing every star
Casting out the constellations bright
And you alike
To the furthest reaches
But never too far
These perfect points set
So you never forget who you are
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
they all say:
don’t take what you don’t need.
feet on the pavement,
ice cream in one hand, a balloon in the other –
his mind’s too preoccupied with
longing for baseless freedom and perhaps
he neglects the melting semi-liquid
losing its vibrancy.
some nights he tries to erase
the parallel lines drawn between
reality and reveries,
piecing lifeless syllables together
to paint a picture of her blurred finesse
which he barely recalls.
he’s inhaling the thin sheet of fog
surrounding his sepia recollections
of a short span of time-
without being certain of the identity of
the defined silhouette hiding beneath
layers of ataraxia.
the harsh fumes trace crimson paths
against bare skin as he chokes,
questioning if she was poison,
or a monstrosity from within.
once a daydream,
her : venom in his veins.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
Do you know how ataraxia tastes?
I change like places.
Color and color the movement
"I was sure that I was human",
Thought the kaleidoscope.
Can't be explained,
I just am what i am like Dada.
Ridicule won't bother the gypsy
Would you like to hear turquoise?
Life is beautiful.
An unknown philosopher formed a rock band,
Shortly after talking to Chance the Gardener.
Visit me in a caravan,
The quest starts in there,
Too few enigmatic passengers.
Originally written 3/30/11
Revised 10/21/14
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
You may be taken,
but every time I see you
I can't help but hope.
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 6:26 PM UTC
Bigoted devouts restrain the tide of enlightenment,
Holding in the scriptures but releasing interpretations,
Folding in the gospels, and putting a leash on nations,
Molding with fictitious to-be empires, but remaining in the same stations,
Scolding if off the told people thought, pledging salvation,
Lording with deceit, triviality, naivety - creating crumbling generations.
A lie was for our misery the foundations.
Cherry red blood is spilled, to reach the cherry red wine,
Recited the defiled with agendas in the people's shrine;
Where they forget they are mud, not the divine,
Where they ignore that they are to teach not to define.
Where they are to manifest ataraxia not after false victories dine.
The corrupt stay behind, and send the innocent to the frontline.
Believing is easier than thinking,
Hearing is easier than reading.
We blame ourselves, not that who caused the drought,
We curse ourselves, not that who ignited the blackout.
Relaxing is easier than risking,
Sleeping is easier than sobering.
On each other, not the responsible, we shout,
We have been building for our own fallout.
Today, you are either right or left,
To them, the left are not right,
To us, the right, us, has left.
Today, politics triumphed over religion,
leading humanity to bend towards chaos;
The chaos following the dead peace pigeon.
Prophets would be ashamed if they saw us.
Prophets would be ashamed of how they sew us.
Mankind, not history, repeats itself;
Then, Jesus was crucified for preaching the truth on a cross,
Now, whom the truth sees lament receives – orders "the boss".
Revelation was their gain but living was their loss.
Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 12:31 PM UTC
When shapes begin to form,
and limbs regain their feeling.
When you're conscience of your breath
and the thoughts that you are thinking.
Before the dreams all fade away,
and the harsh light floods your eyes.
That moment when you're not quite sure
If you truly are alive.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
The sun goes down over the horizon,
and with it,
our aspirations.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
a spacious hall
mats lie on the floor
stretches, flips, ataraxia, namaste!
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 4:34 AM UTC
i stared at the sea
slowly drowning in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand.
face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars.
the ataraxia of the deep blue sea
brings back memorable memories
of you and me wanting to be free
and feeling the September breeze
you're like the waves
who keeps coming to me then running away
then coming back again
baby, aren't you worned out?
i tried to grasped you in my arms
but you keep slipping away
you raveged my heart
leaving it in disarray pieces
was i a fool?
to still wait for you?
you're already gone
without a trace and you never came back.
Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 2:27 AM UTC
I, who have yet to see all
Stand in awe of peace, of tranquillity
I, who have not found my dreams,
Stand in hope of peace, of tranquillity
I, who have not loved my life,
Stand in wait of peace, of tranquillity
I, who have but wandered endlessly,
Stand here, in resolute quest of
Ataraxia
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
La palabra se levanta
de la página escrita.
La palabra,
labrada estalactita,
grabada columna,
una a una letra a letra.
El eco se congela
en la página pétrea.
Ánima,
blanca como la página,
se levanta la palabra.
Anda
sobre un hilo tendido
del silencio al grito,
sobre el filo
del decir estricto.
El oído: nido
o laberinto del sonido.
Lo que dice no dice
lo que dice: ¿cómo se dice
lo que no dice?
Di
tal vez es ******* la vestal.
Un grito
en un cráter extinto:
en otra galaxia
¿cómo se dice ataraxia?
Lo que se dice se dice
al derecho y al revés.
Lamenta la mente
de menta demente:
cementerio es sementero,
simiente no miente.
Laberinto del oído,
lo que dices se desdice
del silencio al grito
desoído.
Inocencia y no ciencia:
para hablar aprende a callar.
582
how did we start,
equating hope to silly?
the fallacy of optimism,
contrasted by the truth of pessimism,
confused as realism, facts
sent by a goal of ataraxia
(unachievable)
supported by leadership position
(unaccessible)
tinted of eudaimonia
(indefinible)
and the loss of getting ahead
at what cost?
do you tear down
others' hope
with your glance,
fuelled by your own
cowardly manner,
afraid of losing
what you never had,
walks around telling others they won't miss it?
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 8:28 PM UTC
Take me away
Away from this cursed path
The path we walk as humans
Rushed by time
Consumed by hate
Chased by approval
Sleep walking
Seeking the useless
This path
Wonky and jejune
Nothing more than wanton
Not seeing the misanthrope it leads us to
Living according to a paradigm
Surrounded by air of melancholy
Rather lead me into the field
Give us an abditory
Make us feel
Feel the greatness of ataraxia
Cause at the end
As it stands
We are nothing more than a nation of sheep
Ruled by wolves
And owned by ******* pigs
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 7:32 PM UTC
ATARAXIA
Felis Catus blinks
"The Tories think
( I didn't know they could do that)
we are not sentient beings
or that we do not feel pain?
Only shows they have no brains!
'Unheimleich' as Heidegger
would have observed!"
she purrs...delicately...cleans herself.
"Your philosophy is
your fail-osophy...
you simply think too much.
Think instead of do
and you can't do without thinking.
Poor poor you!
Be like me.
Just be.
Be.
Only when you play
with me do you
escape being human.
I am your distraction
from the prison of your self
just stop your self thinking
live in this
instant
no before or after.
Ah 'the great chain of being'
placing your self at the top
oh so smugly superior.
Our feline-osophy
would be if at all
not to have a philosophy.
As Montaigne put it
so succinctly you 'needed
a mind departing distraction"
to deal with your consciousness
and awareness of death.
And I my friend - am it!
Now if you can be
a good chap and feed me
that can be my fee
for talking you through
your all too human dilemmas
and you may yet achieve
(perhaps)ataraxia
but until then or when we cats
learn to peel the foil
from Kitty Kat Salmon
and so leap to the top
of the 'great chain of being."
Felis Catus
will rule
over all.
***
ATARAXIA....a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 3:30 PM UTC