"discourses" poems
I stare at the television news....
Assaulted by violence
Stunned by the inhumanity of a
Godless society
I listen to the radio....
Embarrassed by ads that tout
Promiscuous pleasures
Outraged by the thinly disguised
Decadent discourses of the shock jocks
I read the newspapers and magazines....
Cuckolded by corporate America a
Loser in the games politicians play
Violated
Shamed
Cheated and
Betrayed
I try to turn it all off….
but like a bitter pill the distasteful images linger
nor can I go along with eyes shut and ears muffled
living
or not
in a padded room of my own making
I cannot function without information….
tho my senses are
Wounded by the
Brutality of the media
I yearn for thoughts to ease my distress....
like a mother’s soft whispers to her crying baby
like the beauty that shines from faces that know love
I don’t want the perception of reality that the media rapes me with....
I want the truth revealed by God in His creation
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 9:06 AM UTC
{Chorus.} Come praise Colonus' horses, and come praise
The wine-dark of the wood's intricacies,
The nightingale that deafens daylight there,
If daylight ever visit where,
Unvisited by tempest or by sun,
Immortal ladies tread the ground
Dizzy with harmonious sound,
Semele's lad a gay companion.
And yonder in the gymnasts' garden thrives
The self-sown, self-begotten shape that gives
Athenian intellect its mastery,
Even the grey-leaved olive-tree
Miracle-bred out of the living stone;
Nor accident of peace nor war
Shall wither that old marvel, for
The great grey-eyed Athene stareS thereon.
Who comes into this countty, and has come
Where golden crocus and narcissus bloom,
Where the Great Mother, mourning for her daughter
And beauty-drunken by the water
Glittering among grey-leaved olive-trees,
Has plucked a flower and sung her loss;
Who finds abounding Cephisus
Has found the loveliest spectacle there is.
because this country has a pious mind
And so remembers that when all mankind
But trod the road, or splashed about the shore,
Poseidon gave it bit and oar,
Every Colonus lad or lass discourses
Of that oar and of that bit;
Summer and winter, day and night,
Of horses and horses of the sea, white horses.
2.7k
He’s a complete double negative
Sensitive and competitive
“This thing” seems imperative
And when I’m all preventative
and have discourses that are argumentative
He is, to me, like a sedative.
But everything is of course relative.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
We met in poetry land where words abound like
Beaches with sand
It was moving, your profile, that made me glance
Your way a little while
Awkwardness succumbed to curiosity
Communications were established through technology
What seemed like quiet conversations,
Has now become heated discussions.
The intellectual discourses
Blossomed into discourses of a different kind
When hearts meet, is it not divine?
This beautiful love story has an end
The end as written in fairy tales, happily ever after
Happily can only be translated on earth
As joy mixed with laughter
And sadness mixed with tears
The ever after, of that, I’m sure
A thousand years have passed and
Still we are here
And so even if another thousand years should come
We will still be here
You and me, happily ever after!
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:43 AM UTC
I lay one night under a wan lamp-light
Thinking of the pursuit of absolutes.
I couldn’t find the needed time
To analyze what I wanted to.
So - This thinking slowly turned to dreaming
And later these few things I did recount,
- A vacant view of wasting progress,
A reversal of streams to their fount.
A deconstruction of action, some cosmic reduction,
Some flight of things that mattered.
The inexorable picking of lock-step existing-
Dreamfields broken. Syntax battered.
Then this slowing movement rose
To some crest in my mocking mind;
And in horror, I met the morrow
with new respect for the conceptually refined-
For the march of progress, the passion in potential,
The power of merely thinking!
For in our discourses of absolute forces
What could be worse than the erasure of meaning?
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
.........and helped to shape your life.
I got this idea from another website a few years ago and thought it would be interesting to post here as well.
Name 10 books that have most inspired and helped to shape your life and if possible in a few words say why.
For me they have been:
1. Autobiography Of A Yogi (In fact all books by Paramahansa Yogananda)
2. New Testament (Including The Psalms and Proverbs)
3. The Bhagavad Gita
4. The Holy Science by Sri Swami Yukteswar - the guru of Yogananda
5. The Science Of Breath by Yogi Ramacharaka
6. Discourses by Meher Baba
7. God Speaks by Meher Baba
8. Play Of Consciousness by Swami Muktananda (also Siddha Meditation by the same author)
9. The Tao Of Physics by Fridjof Capra
10. Cosmic Consciousness by Richard M. Bucke
Not only did the above books inspire me but they also helped to shape my life by offering an alternative world view about a lot of things that we hardly ever hear about and namely that there is a real mystical path towards realization of the purpose and goal of one's life and the way to achieve that end. In effect I can literally say that they blew my mind and have formed a solid inspirational basis for some of the poetry and prose writings that I've posted on the internet over the last several years. There are however many other books which I have also read and studied over the years (by quite a few classical and mystical poets/writers) that come very close, but the 10 books that impressed and stand out most in my mind are those listed above.
What are the 10 books in your life?
______________________
Nov 19, 2023
Nov 19, 2023 at 9:51 PM UTC
The sun exits, ever so slowly,
down behind the heights of bursting-into-leaf beeches
as gym-shoe-running children
are called in to supper and to bed.
Voices sound from balconies and neighbours' gardens
while blackbirds bid, contentedly, the day farewell.
Lawnmowers cease their whirring sounds
and clippers, rakes and hoes clank in wooden or plastic sheds.
Fragrances roam the evening air,
invading every square metre with terrestial joy,
and cigarettes are passed around
as the face next door has ceased
being a removed nod and smile.
Eventually, the curtains are drawn on a happy ending
while tentative talk succeeds in silencing
any riotous upheavals that might occur
in the night's discourses and dreams.
Aug 14, 2010
Aug 14, 2010 at 12:18 AM UTC
For hours we often spoke
Weren’t those days sweetest
Nothing stopped me from reaching you
Oh, my friend, my dearest.
But little did I know then
That time would soon turn so sour
That our closeness would evaporate
And distances would grow far.
You slowly found less time to meet
So we chatted on phone instead
But in months it rang seldom too,
All my texts went unread.
Our dialogue stalled, gradually,
Our conversation faded away
No more philosophical discourses
Or casual how-was-your-day.
Well, I understand you got real busy
And I didn’t really have a complaint
So I kept trying to get in touch
As old habits I couldn’t restrain.
But your silence is often long,
So long that it seems perpetual
Helplessness overcomes me, at times,
How these times seem cruel!
But, so be it, says my heart today,
It has quite some time been,
Let me wait for my phone to ring
with your name on the screen.
There will be a surprise, I am hopeful,
A news will one day come, I am sure,
And until that moment arrives
I’ll reminisce times of yore.
I blame you not for the silence, Oh dear friend,
And angry I am not certainly
Just a little disappointed that
You have little time for me.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 8:39 AM UTC
A fued between parallel polarities
Inner connections, of unwavering complexity
Veiled by the naked, winds of sincerity
I can change faces swifter than a Pharisee.
Hate, cannot be measured by scopes
The devil himself was failing to cope,
With the loss of his honor and the loss of his hope
God placed his neck into the hang man's rope.
A covenant that he broke, fought hard and he choked
Existence was a hoax, he traded virtue for jokes
And in the sanctum that withers, hides at night and then slithers
The black holes draw hither, when bliss becomes shivers.
I'll place my fate, into the hands of the Seraphim
His breath stops and still I can't carry him
Eyes that bear the sorrow of a paladin,
Repressed thoughts return and they devour him.
It's all another means of control
Man's wickedness, has long since taken its toll
We observe the illusion as our essence grows cold
Loss of passion is the loss of one's soul.
Between being and nothing, I cannot distinguish
Innovative thoughts, rise up and diminish
The pride resolves, until at last we are finished
We cannot reconcile with loss of innocence.
Minds trapped in pathological discourses
Ideology imposed by the ruling forces,
Too blind to seek truth at the heart of the sources
Dissent is drowned out in a fusion of voices.
They say death is the cousin of sleep
Perhaps that's preferable to these lives that we keep
We draw blood for the profits we reap
I see all around me red, white, and blue sheep.
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 7:28 AM UTC
we live in times
that make it difficult
to differentiate reality from fiction
not in the field of literature
where borders always have been fluid
but in quotidian discourses
of politicians television internet
speakers present unproven attitudes
as if they were reality unquestionable
and they get huffy and evasive
if proof comes out that they are wrong
they claim that they have been misquoted
or at least misunderstood
and even if they do recant
this never hits the front page of the medium
but somewhere inside mixed with trivialities
few people check
so it seems to be up to every one of us
to use our brains and bother
whether the data we are being served
are edible or rotten
bccause these speakers
seem to have forgotten
what communication is about
we need to really understand each other
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
You left me…
Almost speechless
Like when everything you want to say actually shuts you up
There were flashes of discourses by the greatest men ever
Lyrics to the songs that you never understood
But also there was silence that you would not have respected
Mixed in with a whisper just not loud enough to hear
Ironic how three words, you deemed suited for this moment
Spurred such a stream of simultaneous shush and scream
That gave me both the will to ignore your words forever
As it did the urge to tell you everything to your face
The belief your life is over
With nothing to be done
Its last part in isolation
Waiting
For the pain to become too much
The pain, the pain
Staring at the same walls
Forty-six days in a row
Never knowing whether
Tomorrow you’ll wake up
And if there is, if you’ll survive
A future left in store
Delirium, depression
A hole left in your soul
Then coming out on the other side
Only to realize
Everyone has moved on
Then who are you to utter these three words to my face
Who are you to dictate how my life after that should change
The words you chose so carelessly, I will take to the heart
Just not to leave the past behind but to make a brand new start
I’ll look you in the eye and use your words against you
When I tell you how I am about to
“Get over it”
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
**** depressed due doubts dance dutifuly
demented dawn deludes detriments
dinning during daunting dissidents
deemed disinterested daft dumb dreamer
don't **** demigods digesting disambiguations
digging down destroying discourses
dally daily doomed deranged
dragged damaged dusted
damp dark determined
dexedrine dagger
darts denting
dudes don't
do
D
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
in the hustle of minutes
cracking underneath the dome of blue-black pressure,
it is in some strange way undiscovered
that our bodies decree the foolishness of hours.
triggered to a stirring, these thrills that seek flounce,
a **** stretch of linear roads that connect to nothing.
the daily commute sings elegiac, pressed against
signs foretelling of destinations that still themselves
know not of a trap of steel when our lives
start to bind madly against us, a rebel.
overtaking us, our lives, in speeds all ruthless
and forceful, like an instantaneous drag of something that persists
to writhe out and refuse to be pinned down.
a roomful of hollow yet nobody to notice equally,
this given purpose, or a deeply stabbing fabulation.
our able bodies give way no longer and break,
reduced to threadbare, this senseless act of worship.
of wasting away hours and mourn the passing of twilights.
we can no longer choose – we catapult into the pith
of these contestations and resign longer than imagined,
our ways are discourses, our life so suddenly
insecure of our remorseless entrails, oh how we have starved
ourselves for long and heed like stone,
the suddenness of our aches when our souls
cease to believe, when our hearts refuse to unfurl
a love christened with silence, when our hands
insurmountable with the mountains deadened
by a plenitude of echoes reaching for a still image -
ourselves, dragged buoyantly and airless –
wearing a face of torment we cannot voice out.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 4:54 AM UTC
unseen the trees capture the clouds
moss captures the fog of oceans
roots store the sky deep into the earth
even dreams have their cycle
words capture unseen chemicals
is it in my eyes or in your eyes
the rain that grows discourses
of fire?
Aug 30, 2023
Aug 30, 2023 at 12:31 PM UTC
Do we really
Need Churches
Temples, Mosques???
Yes, we do need them
Holy prayers
Discourses
Chanting in the name of God
Gathering of people with pleasant thoughts
These are all positive energies
Which will be making that particular
Place a sacred place
So this energy is what we need for
Us... Which is good for us
Yes, good is God
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
The dominant word is the marrow
attention is the bone
and it engulfs every. thing. in an instant
in fact, as we speak
Another hundred will add to the stream
of signifiers that do not mean
what we intend to say
at all
but that is just how it works
A snapshot of the state of affairs
and one might wonder how it happened
That we act as we utter
And the world disappears in a mighty cloud
Of hashtags and codes
encrypted in the shallowest dimensions
of the unconscious mind
in the deep yellow seas.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 10:35 AM UTC
Thank you,
For the boundless discourses
For the endless laughters
For the daily greetings
And for the random I love you’s
Never will I complain,
Listening to your words
Nor to your bubbly giggles
Or even reading your daily remarks
Especially listening to your sweet declarations
Remember that I’ll always,
Get excited to hear the things that made your day
Look forward to your sweet voice every night
Be thrilled to read your morning greetings
And patiently wait for our times together
Most of all,
Your chapter is my favourite page
Our story is my favourite book
And you? My favourite person.
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 8:05 AM UTC
If one has a look on human internal chart
Satan has a knack to attack on weaker part
Rascals take benefit to be clever and smart
To accompany Satan to the human heart
They just take the help of all evil forces
To carry the designs in normal discourses
They charge and discharge their chances
This is how their action come to the pages
They spend their time in the tricks of trade
To any vice or evil they belong as comrade
Like stray dogs in search of bone are strayed
Being afraid of their shadows they decayed
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 3:13 AM UTC
December, a vision,
A most wise decision,
I believe a derision
Left us all alone,
Nothing between us,
No one could have seen us,
This event completes us
And leads us along,
My mind was so clouded
And as we were shrouded,
The rest left confounded
And sent to atone,
To seek willing penance,
To break their dependence
To find our ascendance
An encompassing throne,
I seek, we yet make it,
Deciding to break it,
Knowing not what’s at stake yet,
We sought a true home.
But finding revulsion
Furthered compulsion
Our hearts’ errosion
A broken gramaphone.
No memory corrected,
No statue erected
We became infected
With our words in tone,
I looked o'er shoulder,
No longer could hold her,
Or either composure,
Left a haunting moan.
Seeing not corrected,
My soul now indebted,
Forever inspected,
Silencing a groan,
I walked as if courted,
My love, I aborted,
To see you contorted,
My dear, so distorted,
I find self remorseless
Morbid, forsworn it,
Disgusting discourses,
All else but abhor it,
It seems so alluring,
Though mildly incurring,
All but securing
A life worth enduring,
I’d say it was the last thing that I said in this world,
But that’s just a paradox, and a lie beyond that.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
Naturally it is the sum of our inner forces
which forces us to look back again and again,
perhaps with too much of Anguish in the way,
reminding us of what we have or have not been
-for Anguish bears a semblance to Memory.
And this form of regret tries thru discourses to
look for resources for you to overwhelm. So we
must work hard towards this our goals,
regardless of the hardships
-that puts
us at the helm,
like
a Captain of survival.
One should only look back to correct
the course of their life in effect,
not to
kick themselves in
the hind
for every
slack, but to try to err
on the side of right.
Just remember, *if our means have no end,
then our end has no means*, to keep
obstinate blockades in the way of our
impassioned & hopeful dreams.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
these discourses are too private to even share with the sky himself
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
Is it possible
To see through your heart
To read your mind
To know what you feel
To understand your pain
And why you inflict it upon others
Upon me
A naive, little child
Wandering in the woods
Wondering what went wrong
And how I let everything become worse
Become waste
A dull life I've lead
Contented on breathing and eating
Surviving on few discourses
With the few I know
Then, there was you
A mystery, a puzzle
I was me for the first time
A Me that hid under red cheeks
A mistake, a regret
I would've gladly opened my heart
Instead, I opened my lips
Without you knowing how I feel
Thinking it was just a physical need
But it wasn't
It was an emotional one
*I was emotionally attached to you
And to everything you say and do*
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC