"attainment" poems
Knowing that history repeats itself
and to define a fool is also repitition
Theres madness stacked in minds of many on a shelf
mankinds unordinary fatal condition
Our generation is falling
while temporal worldy attainment rises
Technology renewed us into babies, crawling
to the new updated components that buys us
So blend up the world and fit it in your cup
i hope you choke on the faithless future that fuels you
Dont get out of bed dont wake up
when you dont know how to
The spirit of this race was depleted
when the disease of identities was treated
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
I wish I could spare you words like beautiful, babe, figure and thin.
I wish I could guarantee you a complete disregard for the size of your *******
Or the length of your legs.
I pray never to find you hunched over the toilet
Or hiding a sandwich under books in your bag.
What will the equivalent of cyberbullying be, in ten years time?
I will try, so very hard, to keep you safe.
Please, always talk to each other, and to me.
Share your heart’s bleedings
And I will help you staunch the flow.
I will find the courage to share my failings
And the confidence to pass on my successes,
Both were instrumental in my becoming the woman I am,
A woman I hope you will be proud of, and applaud.
It is hard to be a woman, in this world,
Urged, relentlessly to perfection,
Bombarded with it, drowned in it,
But perfection is a myth, and becomes imperfect with attainment,
It is the imperfections that will mesmerise,
Embrace them, love them, let them shine.
How long did it take me to learn these lessons?
Have I learned them, even now?
Sometimes I think I have, then I become overwhelmed
By anxiety and self-doubt.
This will happen to you too,
I cannot hope to save you from it
But I can provide some armour.
Think for yourselves,
Reject the babble and the screens, the illusion of celebrity
Twenty-first century addictions.
Do not become a slave to technology.
I can see how hard that will be,
But it must be done, if you are to remain people,
Retain your humanity.
I will help you; I will hold your hands.
You are tiny now, but I can see the strength within you both,
And I will nurture it, protect it,
Then it will protect you, out there.
I promise I will always be your tigress,
But you will not always be my little cubs
I will have to find a way to sheath my claws,
And let you stalk your own prey,
And evade the predators, just as I have done.
I watch you, playing happily together in the sun,
And wish you peace, and love, and joy.
Such simple things, yet so elusive.
I will not show you this poem.
But I will read it, frequently,
And try to keep my promises.
My heart thuds in my chest, each a double-beat
A constant repetition of your names,
Tattooed onto my soul.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
Black candles burn in the same manner as the wick of life diminishes in certain uncertainty.
Pursue what is considered to be attainment whilst geological mockery echoes her laughter in the canyons of inevitability.
We are on the precipice of conception. Do you believe it?
Intellectual supremacy bows her head in humble acknowledgement of eternal principalities.
Give gratitude to the universe, because there is simplicity in what you consider to be complexity. Stop fighting destiny and embrace nirvana.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
tragic
that many
are motivated more
through avoidance of pain
than through the attainment of
the achievements their heart desires earnestly
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
07.10.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 10:18 AM UTC
The soft petal-like wisps of romance mixed with a hushed musical score.
It swelled with recognition.
The dawning feeling was of rightness.
And the place to fit was exacting.
The rush of emotions surged.
And they broke with the excited gasps of the breath of realization.
I laughed.
The thought of longing to find someone.
Someone to love lurked in my mind.
It wasn’t a dream.
It was now!
Life has brought me to this point and I laughed.
The sheer joy of attainment was here.
I laughed with happiness because it was my joy.
It was my time.
cc2008
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 2:50 PM UTC
When the moon retires running her length
the river lies a fishbone on the white plate
feebly breathing like the slosh from oars,
the shadow digs a hole in the bush.
The faintest chill rattles don't escape
and the chatters dull as broken notes,
the shadow picks up from the mist
with the intent of an absorbed dreamer.
The gold diggers in that forbidden land
filter their preys keen to fill some more
from the mines lining the grey riverbank
with each reap a little closer to attainment.
The precise compass weighs the measure
tightening the muscles into a symphony
for that climb onto the ****** in one spring
before stealing the stilled, deep into silence.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
With a crown made of perfect pearls of achievement
Tears made of perfection’s unmet attainment
Wrapped in golden robes woven with high expectations, their trophy
Placed on a throne pedestal, feeling like a phony
Sat inside the trophy case of high potential to collect dust
To whom shall I look up to and trust,
If I am held so high I can’t even see the ground?
I must climb back down if I am to be found
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
And in this moment, this one infinitely ceaseless moment
there was bliss, euphoria and a love component.
For when he spoke of his heart and it's spiteful opponent,
I found myself yearning for his loves atonement.
A smooth criminal and a family man, he stunned me into amazement
with an astonishing smile from love lost in a previous engagement.
So in my quest to free his heart from her empty enslavement,
I will cherish our moments in memory of this open arrangement
And live without reason in my journey to his loves final attainment.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
i have relied on circumstance and fate all of my life.
god has never shone down on me and occupied
my life with luck.
i have lived with compromise and attainment without the need for belief
i have never had a calling or had the
ghost pierce through my organs and save me.
today i watched you make your first communion and
you have never been so bright. your innocence,
highlighted in your glow. faith enveloped you
and you enveloped me.
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 4:23 PM UTC
Forthright in my chosen stance
Deliberate in the steps I dance,
I seek to make my time fulfil
Attainment, while I wish no ill,
To others who would tread my path,
(though this may cause some friends to laugh),
“Uniquely” is the phrase I use
To walk the walk of life I choose.
So different from the milling herd
To make some other choice….absurd!
Forthright is my chosen stance
Therein, I dance the dance…. I dance.
Marshalg
“Foxglove” Taranaki NZ.
16 November 2013
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
Oh Lord, Take my Potential
And do with it what you will
For I squander opportunity
And fear I always will
I seek to love and honor you
And some days find my way
Yet the next will find me wanting
As myself do I betray
I seek to know and understand
The purpose I am serving
The thing that I most fear
Is that you find me undeserving
So I study and I scramble
For the tiniest attainment
And take solace in the truth
I am providing entertainment
1999
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
to buy a book at half-ten with
no time wasting. go back, await
instructions ‘cause ****** will
have their trinkets, with novelty
of accented voice. and i once
would talk often of a love – let’s
separate that word from *****
often of a love, but am rare to
fall to elaboration. and through
contemplation the soul may
ascend to knowledge of the
Form of the Good, penultimate
object of Knowledge but not
Knowledge. and often writ of
this love, writ of what was to be
then and never now. never to find
affirmation in fleeting memory.
oxymoronic oblate of the mind
– this soul. attempting for attainment
of Kenosis. shambling i wandered,
rambling i wandered, and humbly
wandering on to pluck till times
and times are done. and
the dogs of this life have re-
moved dearest effects. in turn, sho-
wing the vanity in materialism.
end turn, showing futility in ret-
ention and the sun's continuous gro-
wth forcing abatement of winters’
vespers. cradling a gourd filled with
oil from the skin of ages, to reflect
micorocosms of preceived death.
those silver apples of the moon. and
when vespers return in color, when
the ground aches tensing muscles.
this love, if only the conjunctions
had been denied. perhaps by abor-
tion of if, then could have been a
block for now. these times found
oblate of memory by zealous self-
truth of the wronged past, and
humbled by skewed memory of
the hermit on unseen path for
Kenosis. unseen growth of
those golden apples of the sun.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
Life must be carried on with contentment
We must develop an enough sentiment
All our ideas we must try to implement
Doing the best not for just compliment
Efforts to succeed we must augment
Waste not time in useless argument
Go for wise and shrewd agreement
And ever work for World's betterment
We must perform well our assignment
Sending kindness as our consignment
Work hard for our fine goals' attainment
By accepting arriving disappointment
We must make our rules" enactment
Acting always with real commitment
We must obey God's Government
mvvenkataraman
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
Next to me, you're tiny
so small
Compared with me? weak,
you're just a doll
But you need affection
I just want the best for you
Bad at detection (you are)
But you're good at what you do
Let's just...
Take this off so daddy can see what's there
Oh you're uncomfortable?
Well, life isn't fair.
And baby, please
I can't feel a thing
So let's just lose
This rubber thing
Don't say no
It's not polite
I won you fair
In that barfight
You're mine now
Skin, bone, and all
So open up now
You're taking the fall
(So weak, so small...)
I am not getting what I want
Persistent I will be until attainment
Come on baby, please don't be a ****
Now cry a little now for my entertainment
Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 7:18 AM UTC
Mentally dismantled
Spiritually a bundled
Cranium tasseled
Failed attainment
Craze by the crowds
Oh how I feel demised
Trained by the master
Hidden intellect
Chosen few has heard
Chosen few has experienced
Life changing words
Brain is so superb
Tongue twisters is a love spot for the genuis that is her
She is her
Her is me
Her is you
Her is us
Her is many
Many of the intellects
Many of the power holders
Many of the strong
Many of her
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
Did you ever, as a child, chase a butterfly,
A tiny Golden Birdwing, perhaps
Or a Bronze Roadside-Skipper?
Flitting, faster than an arrow,
Over a rusting wheelbarrow fortress,
Under an electrified washing line,
Dive-bombing plastic remnants
Of the light infantry,
Before spinning away,
Courting the breeze in a whirling dance,
Winged-eyes blazing bright as childrens' buttons,
Vanishing in a cluster of gold chrysanthemums,
Reappearing, fluttering freely,
From a sea of bronze fennel.
Did you dash dash dash,
Arms flailing madly,
Mouth locked in a giggling grin?
And did you ****** ****** ******
Tiny hands grasping, clutching at air,
Desperate to hold natures princess?
Do you remember?
Dashing, Snatching, Grasping,
And suddenly,
She Was Gone?
And did you dare peep, clumsily,
Into your tiny hands,
Between your fragile fingers,
Half afraid you missed her,
Half again, you may find her,
Crushed In Your Hands?
The quest for desire is a chase,
So demanding,
So determined,
So distracting,
Attainment without consequence
Is your end game,
And is all that matters
Until you face the consequence
Of your end game,
When all that matters
Is What Remains In Your Hands?
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
I have entered the house of water six legions deep. Once a canopy of creativity held me. The crown I wore was a set of stars unseen. The fragmented emotions have crystallized upon the tabernacle of David's house.
I look deeply to see the snow capped mountains of attainment are behind me. I have placed the world at my feet as the ibis called to the water. The stars glisten with secrets held quietly waiting for man to explore. The wind blows and the bell tolls for those with supreme spinning joy which is the life of us all.
Deep from memory and heaven smiles across the miles from those who have gone before? I know the nurturer of me was the greatest gift received deep within the focused dreams.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 4:05 AM UTC
Let me make your life easy
Now that you making so many efforts
To end mine
Guns, Pistols, Bombs and your own body
So considerate , so kind.
So let me help,
Let me whet my trepidation
Lacerate my flesh, from inside
Let me batter my silly quivering, numb
Let me assure them ,they will be insensate
It is only a matter of time.
Meanwhile,
Tell me how would you like it?
Mere flesh soaked in ****** quagmire
Silent in death , heeding to you instruction manual
Or
Crisp shrills rising in cacophonous notes
Reciting curses in quandaries, jabbing your fiend inside
Or
should i use my imaginations
On 'how to ruin my own life?'
So behold and hold
My veins from the end
And haul towards your side,
Twist to cause added agony
Or may be crush my lungs
To hasten me out of my life
See my insipid blood splatter
As it draws tattoos of attainment on you
Hear it gurgle
As you guzzle it out of my body, as if some wine
Nevertheless,
It won't evoke any poignant feeling
Even if you realize in the end
You and i are same kind.
So drown me deep, so deep in the pool which is red
Sorry again,if you were expecting blue,yellow,green or may be white
Descend me twice the force
If i brawl or condemn against your peace of mind
Hear the music of my diminishing gasps till the end
And move on , tattooed and vindicated.
-Pallavi Goswami
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
strange to be surrounded by the heroism of the careful edit of Thespians, who can wage win or lose wars with a careful edit and the use of steroids to show the hardship of our former life now made easier - being surrounded by the staged heroism of careful edit, Thespian expression breeds in all a dissatisfaction with menial labours we could be better off to encourage as a non-victimising share of labour, and yet among such numbers of fellows we find our labours too menial, robbing us of the comfort of being as one among so many, only because we're being fed fake courage of Thespians and the subsequent fake adventures of the same profession, to only turn askance into the world and instead of adventure only seeing prospects of tourism, and former hardships of our forefathers as only menial banality.
recitation of religous mantras
seem all the more important
with the blocked toilet
of darwin's **** keeping
the foremost populist adhesive
among people reciting no other
scientific theories -
like that one about a pea-sized
dollop of toothpaste
and any more actually causing
nicotine colouring on your teeth -
dentists & money
& each other
trade (tried and tested, agreeable paradox).
well currently darwin and einstein
are instructing societies in terms
of respectable talk, talk so respectable
that no counter opinion can enter,
because too few scientific facts
are given mantra status...
cite me a theory from chemistry,
cite me at least one thing
about thermodynamics...
exactly, you can't!
we might as well endear a harking laugh
of a fox and the howling bark of dog -
because the western dogma mantra is so
limited - maxims replace poems
and poems are hid whether under the
debasing blanket of lyrics that are simple
due to excess instrumentation
and no hope of singing in duo presence
of both singer and the one expecting song -
or under blankets of fictive corpses
of bored readers - as once noted and spotted:
a funeral service corporate "shop"
and in it too st. francis' hospice selling charity books.
should shiva's attainment of vishnu's peace of mind be attained and subsequently lost, shiva's third eye opens and turns the mind toward the only subsequent definition of former attainment of peace, the third eye opens and turns to warring and destruction; toward the east, Asia's Thespians are known as Avatars - if not thieving from men, then at least enriching gods.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
I once read a poem.
At least it was called a poem by the poet who penned it.
It certainly stirred a hot cauldron of controversy.
Evoking the elite establishment of hallowed
writing circles to shout their disdain,
to cry out their contempt for such audacity.
"This is not poetry," was the hue that arose,
"it is nothing but prosaic, plagiarized drivel;
written thousands of times across the aeons by
those who have lost, have gained, or ever hoped for."
Perhaps some of us were tainted by the sin of
envy for this unheralded poet and for what he
had achieved with such rudimentary text.
At the time, I also spoke to the crime of the author's intent.
My own aspersions were raised by his act of describing
such incredible possibilities with such simple words,
such purity of condensed thought.
Alas I see now, it was the very simplicity of
the poem that blinded us all to its wondrous truth.
Elementary words which could envision glorious unexplored
mountain peaks, and the assurance of their height's
attainment with nothing more than a steady, faithful pace.
Hopeful words, filled with such grandiose power.
Capable of birthing new life solely from the
pure belief in their profound truth.
This great work of art was forgotten till this night,
as I sit here in a futile attempt to grasp words from intangible air.
Chasing and forcing them into a meager
attempt to share some small piece of wisdom
for two young hearts beginning this journey together ...
two whom I care for as you.
But, lacking as I am, I fear I must
expropriate this forgotten poet's verse.
Offering it to you humbly as my own,
stealing these words even as he stole them before me.
Simple words, distilling all the grand descriptions of all
the illustrious poets, bards, and romantics throughout the ages.
Proclaim it to each other as ecstasy bursts forth,
for its wondrous spell is then truly manifest.
Declare it over sorrow's shared tears,
for its healing sway is miraculous.
Whisper it over anger's destructive rage.
It has the power to quell the thunder.
Speak it as a vow, never to become merely words.
It must be proclaimed with the passion and soul of a poet.
Welling up from the deepest depths of the heart,
and the truest regions of the mind.
For these mere words encompass all.
Believe them as they are intended,
for these words are truly everything.
"I LOVE YOU"!
© S.Loeding All Rights Reserved
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 3:22 AM UTC
I beseech you my brethren of universal extrapolations – can we please engage in open and articulate *********** without apprehensive projections?
Connection fails whenever intensity prevails, and genuineness bows the knee to supposed sustainment.
Now that we understand that the quest for independence and that freedom is not divorced from pack loyalty; I cross my legs and contemplate yogic restorations of astral attainment whilst sitars command conventionality.
So, let us converse in a manner which is soul to soul. Doesn't that just remind you of baked fish and fruit punch?
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
A whispered call to distant dreams,
And sheltered baths in quiet streams.
The measure of a person's worth,
My thoughts the minute after birth.
The bitter irony of a bitter end,
A parting chuckle for a fallen friend.
Just ninety minutes in the sun,
The breakfast of a lonely nun.
A symbol for the morning after,
The memory of my father's laughter.
One season with no trace of water,
The necklace that I never bought her.
Things I've said to peoples' pets,
The hope on which I've hedged my bets.
An apology that's not been made,
A favour I have not repaid.
The reason for a burst of anger,
That one song I never sang her.
All forgiveness ever asked,
All the glory in which I've basked.
All the wisdom I have earned,
All the bridges I have burned.
And the finest of this short selection:
The attainment of perfection.
For all the trinkets life has brought,
There are many that I hadn't sought.
But as my tree keeps gaining rings,
I must keep room for useless things.
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 8:58 AM UTC
she looks at his eyes while he stares at her thighs
and he's wondering if she's going to sleep with him tonight
the dress that hangs by her dainty physique is meant to impress
but all he pictures is what's underneath
their hearts beat giving values to their chests
of treasured boxes kept locked away from all of the rest
she wishes for solace and an assurance to not be pressed
he wishes to gain her trust and to take over, hoping for a nightly event of passionate ***
he lures her into a loophole of false intent
she smiles at his slipping mask but continues to reciprocate
they exchange words over drunk breaths
but she is too intoxicated so she forgets
her tenuous wrists are taken into his
she tries to refuse but eventually gives in
to forceful attainment and prohibited entry
she wonders if her racing heart will be heard through her thin exterior
she wonders if there are other words for "help"
and why men always have to be the superior
her fingers are helpless along with tight shut eyes
clothing sliding from svelte body parts, past unconscious skin
she senses heavy breathing, not hers, to keep herself wondering
unaware and completely susceptible
she falls asleep, passing out with her body against his
the sun will kiss her tender cheeks
with the absence of coffee drinks
she will be awake and lying next to nothing but empty sheets
she will remember looking into his eyes
hoping that he was the one to keep her safe from reoccurring lies
but he was nothing but a crooked thief
who robbed her of her entirety
n.j.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
You see yourself as less,
apologizing for fancied flaws & imagined improprieties.
I see the kindness of your heart,
desiring good for all those around you.
You see yourself as dark,
full of negativity & sarcastic statements.
I see in unguarded moments
the softness of your soul,
and genuineness of your generous heart.
You see yourself as undisciplined,
as lacking routine & constancy.
I see the strength of conviction
that guides your heart,
the self-made statutes of kindness that control you .
You are ever willing to condemn yourself
by some artificial standard of attainment
given to you by others,
who may not know your quintessence...
but I know you.
I love the life I see within you &
love to be connected to the wit & wisdom
& wondrous effervescence that are You.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 10:01 PM UTC
Oh Lord, it seems to me, You are a God of pain
without which some people say there is no gain.
There is only so much that we creatures can bear
and it’s sometimes I wonder if You really do care.
Throughout the world You’re generally loved, hated or feared
and there are certain times when You are very strongly jeered.
Most people have a hard time making up their mind about You
because of the trials and tribulations that You put them through.
It seems strange and true to say that with Your almighty nature
You somewhat force people to bend to Your imposing stature.
To impress on them that You’re the Only One they should please
You have to prepare and teach them all how Your Will to appease.
Is it because of You’re being Immortal and All-knowing and we are Your heirs
that You subject us all to such rigorous training to overcome illusion’s snares?
One only has to reflect on the lives of Your so-called True Sons of the past
to realize the suffering and attainment their example on humanity has cast.
If I sound to be a little cynical towards You and seem to complain
how could You be so insensitive and not help me get rid of my pain?
Though ignorant as I am to One Who is great as You’re made out to be
please show a little more compassion to those who are helpless like me.
As life in this world demands so much of our time
is it forgetfulness of Thee that You consider a crime?!
This whole world is a cruel proving ground to one higher above
and yet it has been spoken or written that You are a God of love!
If I don’t seem to see the bigger picture now of what really goes on
then You’re held responsible for allowing this situation to drag on.
And even though You have given Teachers to show people the way
the illusion is still so strong that most get caught and lost in the fray.
Remaining a while here where they play out either minor or major roles
being only a matter of time before they too become aware of their souls.
When after much disappointment and suffering that You seem to mete out
they gradually realize by pain that this world is not what life is only about.
_________________________________________________________
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC