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"equipoise" poems
I bear the Scales, where hang in equipoise The night and day; and whenunto my lips I put my trumpet, with its stress and noise Fly the white clouds like tattered sails of ships; The tree-tops lash the air with sounding whips; Southward the clamorous sea-fowl wing their flight; The hedges are all red with haws and hips, The Hunter’s Moon reigns empress of the night.
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The Poet’s Calendar: 09 - September
energy surging,              heat begetting heat expands to dark expanse to cool and brew what slow restocking weight with white supernal flare between around an equipoise of center you imagined as you write and what non-being-being residing in beneath the deep? inspired by the question-thought embracing death beyond what death to value life a blissful state in even darkest reaches found the pain a sundered gate of joy you capture with poetic greeting ploy, that coin is split to join opposing worlds as when blind Shiva blinded world unbridled lust arrayed from hut to hut obliging them his ***** to rip but then extinguishing their rant to foster pleading for the dance again collecting yoga as viyoga                                in samanvaya chiaroscuro maya-vidya or adept on cosmic player focus hate-trancendent into vast eternal love which even Luke (14:26) dropped lovely clue to un conditioned by contingent fondness for what myth of real  play we stage together evermore to frolic in the uncut hair of graves                                                                                                                     (greenest grass to know what past) whose leavings are for future sunrise lush to celebrate another self envisioned in another set of singing eyes the literal, empty, formless mien a synthesized good-bye recursion rush .
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Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
रजस्
energy surging,              heat begetting heat expands to dark expanse to cool and brew what slow restocking weight with white supernal flare between around an equipoise of center you imagined as you write and what non-being-being residing in beneath the deep? inspired by the question-thought embracing death beyond what death to value life a blissful state in even darkest reaches found the pain a sundered gate of joy you capture with poetic greeting ploy, that coin is split to join opposing worlds as when blind Shiva blinded world unbridled lust arrayed from hut to hut obliging them his ***** to rip but then extinguishing their rant to foster pleading for the dance again collecting yoga as viyoga                                in samanvaya chiaroscuro maya-vidya or adept on cosmic player focus hate-trancendent into vast eternal love which even Luke (14:26) dropped lovely clue to un conditioned by contingent fondness for what myth of real  play we stage together evermore to frolic in the uncut hair of graves                                                                                                                     (greenest grass to know what past) whose leavings are for future sunrise lush to celebrate another self envisioned in another set of singing eyes the literal, empty, formless mien a synthesized good-bye recursion rush .
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31
Balanced at the gravel margin of the road, veiled in grey and blue, his hands are ****** loose around the bicycle’s white handlebars in equipoise below his beard’s feathered fringe. His threadbare jeans ride up and down at the knees with the turning of the pedals, effortless as air. He shows the world a look of grave surprise, it seems to me - presents it to a land that never was his own, but one that he is only passing through. Roadside cottonwoods and maples shield him from the skimming sun, and overhead a skein of Canadian geese call and call.
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Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 9:17 PM UTC
Man on a Bicycle
I Kinda like the female variety. The male... uh not so much Hard to not wonder What exactly lies down under. Camel Toe on Equipoise. **** She caught me looking.
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 10:36 AM UTC
Moose Knuckle
I'm in love with my imaginary friend. Every night we go for walks through the pines and twisted oak and roll along the forest floor sending ancient leaves to float. Once, we laid on our backs, head to head towards space and synthesized soft new lights which colored up the scene. We made dragons dance throughout the clouds, eating fish in a serpent's kiss. Pink and green pulsing slow as raptured waves and overtones. Behind that checkered skyline, through a portal in the clouds came to mind a severed vision of her flaming hair and crown. She has curled around my feet, hearing the stories that I've told. And I've watched her streak across the sky, a shooting star, a cosmic jewel to behold. She's celestially empowered, adorned with patient equipoise, with Jupiter and Venus meeting conjunct in her voice.
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Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
My Imaginary Friend
Soma a pharmaceutical usurpation some subjunctive psychedelic noxious decoction of the capital  kind wrought by unoriginality a conjuring elixir to ignite the  material  mind Maya will have you if you don't recognize behind appearances is always a disguise beyond the superficial over what eyes can surveil   may entitle you to what is to be entailed Yuga beyond the ages beyond the sages epochs and eras multiplied to infinity expecting some recourse exponential beyond sanity gauges of the cyclical planetary Akasha ubiquitous aether all pervading all invading revelations' recordings substratum of then and now rife marshaler of how Ishwara great atman ultimate overseer transcending all time cosmic conscience consciousness sublime beyond everything sight unseen Samadhi reign over me the be all and end all of life's raisons d'être superconsciousness enlightenments bestowal of divine grace and mercy Gunas by knowledge of these moods this will allow you ambrosia of all roads in your journey ahead to navigate solely without flag or fail through equipoise unassailed Ahimsa through this your lips can no longer trespass over your welfare or the welfare of any other true liberation from human inebriation true love for one another Siddhis they will misunderstand you not being like the same eschewing commonality for the perfected mindscape a narrowed perspective to focus more completely upon the rarest of views Om what can be said of this holiest sound that permeates all ethers the skies and the grounds Brahman of this plane and all that surrounds now perish all that confounds
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
East Meets West in the Infinity of Eighths
Soma a pharmaceutical usurpation some subjunctive psychedelic noxious decoction of the capital  kind wrought by unoriginality a conjuring elixir to ignite the  material  mind Maya will have you if you don't recognize behind appearances is always a disguise beyond the superficial over what eyes can surveil   may entitle you to what is to be entailed Yuga beyond the ages beyond the sages epochs and eras multiplied to infinity expecting some recourse exponential beyond sanity gauges of the cyclical planetary Akasha ubiquitous aether all pervading all invading revelations' recordings substratum of then and now rife marshaler of how Ishwara great atman ultimate overseer transcending all time cosmic conscience consciousness sublime beyond everything sight unseen Samadhi reign over me the be all and end all of life's raisons d'être superconsciousness enlightenments bestowal of divine grace and mercy Gunas by knowledge of these moods this will allow you ambrosia of all roads in your journey ahead to navigate solely without flag or fail through equipoise unassailed Ahimsa through this your lips can no longer trespass over your welfare or the welfare of any other true liberation from human inebriation true love for one another Siddhis they will misunderstand you not being like the same eschewing commonality for the perfected mindscape a narrowed perspective to focus more completely upon the rarest of views Om what can be said of this holiest sound that permeates all ethers the skies and the grounds Brahman of this plane and all that surrounds now perish all that confounds
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81
Life as a high school wallflower served me without any budding female friendships until lo… a gent tulle mandate from my late mother uprooted me from mine kempf familiar bedrock level road terrain which venue offered a groundswell to blossom forth into golden sterling resplendent rod of natural equipoise (this an unbiased opinion) and balance with freestyle improvisational swinging motions unchained from the moors of formality and lit figurative saint elmo’s sesame street fiery dance allowing, enabling and providing this shy awkward self during his young adulthood to cast away four ever thy self embroidered handsome straight as an arrow naturally high as a kite young guy buzzing like a yellow jacket thus liberating spontaneity that je nais sais quoi joie vivre clamoring headlong toward venus from healthy pistil packing overflowing bin laden well nigh testosterone erupting ***** toward opposite gender whereby bravado donned as key to *** field of whet dreams fostering initial albeit late blooming roll in the hay hormonally rooted rutting squeal!
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
Contra dancing as palliative per bashfulness
Neither this nor that A perfect in-between Spirit breath Cosmic stance The compression of a universe Into one indivisible point An expansion of a universe into all points A noun for oneness Unanimous stillness The experience Of now MChallis © 2015
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
Equipoise
2/13/15 I want to be a dust cloud off the grid as a ghost, invisible. The will to be unaffiliated and resilient with equipoise. I'm the moon light at night, the sun blaze by day, the thunder of my memory is yet to come. my Guessing will soon be forgotten.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
Friday the 13th
“Haunted Houses” (1858) All houses wherein men have lived and died __Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, __With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, __Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, __A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table, than the hosts __Invited; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, __As silent as the pictures on the wall. The stranger at my fireside cannot see __The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me __All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands; __Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, __And hold in mortmain still their old estates. The spirit-world around this world of sense __Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense __A vital breath of more ethereal air. Our little lives are kept in equipoise __By opposite attractions and desires; The struggle of the instinct that enjoys, __And the more noble instinct that aspires. These perturbations, this perpetual jar __Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of an unseen star, __An undiscovered planet in our sky. And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud __Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light, Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd __Into the realm of mystery and night,– So from the world of spirits there descends __A bridge of light, connecting it with this, O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends, __Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.
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Oct 14, 2020
Oct 14, 2020 at 10:08 AM UTC
Haunted Houses (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
“Haunted Houses” (1858) All houses wherein men have lived and died __Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, __With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, __Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, __A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table, than the hosts __Invited; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, __As silent as the pictures on the wall. The stranger at my fireside cannot see __The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me __All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands; __Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, __And hold in mortmain still their old estates. The spirit-world around this world of sense __Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense __A vital breath of more ethereal air. Our little lives are kept in equipoise __By opposite attractions and desires; The struggle of the instinct that enjoys, __And the more noble instinct that aspires. These perturbations, this perpetual jar __Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of an unseen star, __An undiscovered planet in our sky. And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud __Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light, Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd __Into the realm of mystery and night,– So from the world of spirits there descends __A bridge of light, connecting it with this, O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends, __Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.
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41
thunder declaring with a mighty noise what we once knew but later chose to hide believing we had so few other ploys and only a small chance to save our pride this was the the noble sound we came to hear sublimest product of the engineer of music there was the full weight of night being lifted up around us the height of passion reached in moments and the pace of dragons felt as if it were their right we knew it all and knew it all for grace the calm the strain the skill that he deploys marks the director as the truest guide brimful of zest and yet with equipoise he knows he's got us all here for the ride to turn us all at once to wolf and deer and have a world of magic just appear before our eyes without the power of sight by mass effect of sound and not of light no easy thing our plain lives to displace a thousand voices is a tool of might we knew it all and knew it all for grace my eye is on the many girls and boys in rank behind as all these worlds collide what do they know how do they have such poise in the great task in which they are allied so much depends on voice bright and austere all deeply human that is very clear we have full understanding of the rite and know the meaning all the words incite into the sacred silence of this space hope for escape from the old mortal plight we knew it all and knew it all for grace prince you have asked about that magic night and how the mass of sound was got just right across the world i tell you to your face you had to be there darkness vanished quite we knew it all and knew it all for grace
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Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 12:55 PM UTC
symphony of a thousand
thunder declaring with a mighty noise what we once knew but later chose to hide believing we had so few other ploys and only a small chance to save our pride this was the the noble sound we came to hear sublimest product of the engineer of music there was the full weight of night being lifted up around us the height of passion reached in moments and the pace of dragons felt as if it were their right we knew it all and knew it all for grace the calm the strain the skill that he deploys marks the director as the truest guide brimful of zest and yet with equipoise he knows he's got us all here for the ride to turn us all at once to wolf and deer and have a world of magic just appear before our eyes without the power of sight by mass effect of sound and not of light no easy thing our plain lives to displace a thousand voices is a tool of might we knew it all and knew it all for grace my eye is on the many girls and boys in rank behind as all these worlds collide what do they know how do they have such poise in the great task in which they are allied so much depends on voice bright and austere all deeply human that is very clear we have full understanding of the rite and know the meaning all the words incite into the sacred silence of this space hope for escape from the old mortal plight we knew it all and knew it all for grace prince you have asked about that magic night and how the mass of sound was got just right across the world i tell you to your face you had to be there darkness vanished quite we knew it all and knew it all for grace
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38
an obsession defined is no obsession at all strong, barely controllable, passion, when it rules is invisible to the when the storm passes you are seeing the earth in the process of balance the storms are not blotches of color on a screen they do not follow dotted lines or spiked curves they are living breathing churning of equipoise and a universe strongly influenced by entropy balance being a continuous give and take in both large and small doses you are truly alive only when you are young the effects of todays spring thaw will be felt tomorrow in the lower Lamoille there seems to be room for more river between the bank the machines will increase flow both upstream and down in a balance of volume and it has been noticed that birds prepare of the cold of the night by roosting in pines facing the direction of the morning sun
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
no title
How many times should I need to lose you, before I learn the rules of your equipoise -  I wonder. And how many times should you need to cast me out, before you learn to bear my unmasked sight - You may not know. I have already figured out this discoloration, and, darling - it is going to **** us soon. What we need now is to have those blades of ours again, what we need now is to be delivered by our own Caesarean - from this womb of pretense-fate and see the light of our true day.
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Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 4:10 AM UTC
What We Need
Pain and sorrow let loose to **** Joy and bliss left free to roam; Dark and night, light and day, Value, justice, apathy. To tell the truth or tell a lie? To believe or to deceive, To see false for false or real for real, Madness, waste, insanity. The strength to endure the harshest blow, The weakness to fall. The vigor to rise, the dread to turn back, Panache, terror, equipoise. Cry to the night, weep to the stars, Lament your losses and your gains. Feel the poignance to exist, To love, to lose, to fight and win. The flower's bloom, the sun's warm glow, The happiness of emptiness, Inane joys rotting in our souls; Comfort, peace, banality. Logic and rationality, Sound reason to do, to live, to die. Euphoria in just purpose, despair in cogent cause. Wherefore, why, validity. Emotions, feelings, vagaries, Justice, madness, equipoise, Love and loss, joy and ease, farce, reason, tragedy; Where lay the world's true alchemy?
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Untitled
Pretty people everyone is equal look out for the sequel where I explain we're not all the same.
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 8:10 AM UTC
Equipoise
Do we value money more than the time it takes to achieve it? We waste our lives for it? I waste my life for what? My priorities for what? Missions, goals, dreams, for what? I waste life on things I find more interesting than essays about people long put in the dust. I hunger for highs, good times, but I get lows, work is important but how much– for certain?– I do not know. I draw back from application, while wishing for balance. Instead of working hard I found it easy to survive off of talent. I want to learn, yet haven’t grown, to find the equipoise of work and play. I know what I do instead. I spend my time lazily, convincing myself at every turn that tomorrow will wait for me, that I’ll have time and enough time to finish everything, and everything well.
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Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 7:21 PM UTC
Why do I?
Neither this nor that A perfect in between A single breath The simplest stance The compression of a universe into one point The expansion of a universe into all points A noun for oneness An infinite stillness An experience of now.                                                     Martin Challis 2014
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
Equipoise
my eidolon is my equipoise your voice is vice versa I would deal only in ideals if not cursed by my precursors what came before I came before you conditions my condition Im bringing down what brings me down content in forcing your contrition
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 7:46 AM UTC
end of daze (re-evolution)
I am not naïve I am not confused I am not hopeful I am in love with the impossible! I am not Spring in December, I am Spring that sprints through the calendar. I am not the fallen leave of Autumn, I am the equinox of equilibrium. I am the equipoise of  hope (lost and found). Profound is my sigh, loudly reverting through the melodies of the universe. Universal is the language cemented in words, that attempt to explain, forces beyond human understanding. I am the symmetry of complex hymns, rhymes, and verses, flowing through time and space. Through the window I peek, to see who’s coming. Yet, I do not miss a beat…..I continue sprinting through bitter winters and recalescent summers. I am to yesterday, what food is to hunger. Today and the future are lovers constantly quarrelling. I am naïve. I am confused. I am hopeful. I am in love with the impossible! LeydisProse 6/14/2017 https://www.facebook.com/LeydisProse/about/
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 2:26 PM UTC
I am not naïve