"sanctorum" poems
Prelude
"Let's go" his soft whisper
the mantra, in his voice she hears
the esoteric voyage through
the cryptic high seas of self,
fathomless, unmapped,
uncharted and reachable
only by the most fearless
ready to unbind and make
the self free for it's adventure,
begins thus for the peaceful pair
complementing the absolute
for a life time, til they reach there
and find themselves one with
pure consciousness.
"Let's let's, but only together"
she chants in unison,with him.
1.
Bidding good bye to ego, clad in red and black
a beast, not easy to bring to it's knees, submit,
the high horse proud,raring to go,having sharp horns
sticking out, fierce, that goes berserk,on seeing white.
Altogether a curious construct, that dictates terms-
they set about, invoking the blessing of the flame of light.
2
They stood together, eyes widely shut, bringing
both palms together,in front of their chests
creating a lotus bud, symbolizing hearts,bowing
each other in "Namaste",-bows the divinity in thyself-
chanting the mantras of peace, thrice, each time, repeatedly.
3
"Lets go back to the begining of every begining.."
the primordial hum, transcending quagmires of time
in the path of our ancestors,who did see the" unseeable",
without eyes, knew the "unknowable",diving in to the
ocean depth of self,going inwards chanting"Neti, Neti"
Not this, Not this, inquiring each till the essence did reveal.
4
They did this, focusing the eye of the mind, on the eye
beyond all, that watches every small thing in universe.
Mind, sharpened like the blade of a sword,efficient to cut
the Gordian knots,of paradox, duality and illusion,
encountering the silence that thickens at last, speaks
the words of wisdom,patient they are, to know the ultimate,
right there at the source of light that is the true essence of all,
5
Celebrate the pure consciousness, that pervades in every thing,
the thought that begets all thoughts,that moves on to be karma,
that becomes purer, through the cycles of lives, one after another.
"Let's be humble, utmost, sans the ornamental clothes of pride.
May the thought reigning cosmos, the spirit of peace,chanted aloud,
take us to it's sanctum sanctorum and melt us in to it's divine embrace.
Only one there is, all are it's integrals,the divine cosmic hum 'Aum'
that enliven the universe within each cell, remember , is eternal"
#@@#
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
I was a no name worker bee
Yet I had a million bees all working for me
I was a caryatid, house wife, never had the life of a queen
Stole my honey from the wasps with the wax in their wings
I was a comatose burn victim
I could hear the nurses whisper sanctum sanctorum!
They fed me nutrients and cleaned my ******
They either didn’t care or they didn’t think I could hear them
I was alive when the lightning struck
But I was dead by second, to survive my luck
I wasn’t anything special
I was a mass produced individual
They had no names worth knowing
They had no future where they were going
And I never thought twice about what I did
The quiet megalomania of a caryatid
And then my patience turned to rampage
I took a page from Genghis Khan
I wanted the roaches gone
I hatched suburban escape plans
Because my angst was delayed
A generation late & afraid
Now in the presence of the gods and goddesses
And in the confidence of infinite this is
Another power grab a singularity
Another force to fight reverse polarity
I’m all about the lust and not the wander
I am the lingering presence of a long goner
I’m here to clarify the **** of daughters
The spider stink in the breath of fire
If we could **** for utility instead of a performance to showcase our species’ ability
Then we’d be hunted by viruses
The gods and goddesses with the instinct to extinct humanity
Chaos is healthy, its part of reality, essential to symmetry, like night is to day
When life is weighed on a pendulum
Like sanctum sanctorum
The delicate faberge
There isn’t anything to bother with on top of the monolith
I’m shouting mantras from the mountain peak
There isn’t any time to practice with a modern creation myth
A lullaby in a language I don’t speak
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
‘He who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered’
- George Meredith
In the solemn silence of the cathedral
Close to the 'sanctum sanctorum'
Away from the din of the world
I sat in prayer for hours
In deep adoration as I sat with eyes closed
Envisioning Him at the inmost shrine of my heart
I sensed His living touch all over my body
The one without form lifted me in His arms
Like a child clinging to a caring father
I opened my heart before Him
Placed my life’s burdens at His feet
Asked for gifts my frail hands could hold!
Coming out, relieved and enriched
At the gate I was greeted by a beggar
Dressed in rags, his hair lying wildly matted
With sores in his body, he looked a piteous sight
In his outstretched hands was a begging bowl
His lips were pleading in silence
From my bounty, I gave him something
And saw the glitter in his hazy eyes
Can I ever discriminate him
When we both do the same thing
While he begs before me outside the shrine
I beg before the Lord inside the shrine!
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
When you stand tall
Looking beyond the clouds
Vast nothingness
Welcomes you
Lucky you have reached
Through the filters
Your soul set free
As it now soars above
Levitating among space
Filled with celestial truth
A higher resonance
Your frequency matches
With the similar wavelength
Burdened illusions down below
Here, truth has found safe haven
You enter the sanctum sanctorum
Privileged among hallowed souls
Charismatic, euphoric
At the benevolence of this place
Graffiti on the hearts
And hymns emanating from souls
A rhythm with the awareness
You flew beyond
Nothing, to hold you back
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 9:57 AM UTC
Kneeling, I cower
Seeing my merciless Lord
Looking down on me.
I sit, still surprised
At witnessing His greatness,
Oh so fortunate,
To be permitted
In the sanctum sanctorum
of His holiness.
My lips are eager,
But cautiously, taking in
The scent of His feet,
They plant tenderly,
On His wrinkled skin kisses,
Kisses more and more.
Losing my own self,
Forgetting the universe,
Immersed in worship,
My hands in fondness,
Move up His body of stone,
Wishing to please Him.
All fervent prayers
Are at last answered, when my
Deity shudders,
As my tongue reaches
The root of that blessed fountain
Which seeds all of life.
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
*A moth with purple luminous sheen-ed wings
Fell in love with a flame, enraptured by her blush
Wished to wrap itself around her limbs
Gently caress her, such was his crush,
It ventured forth
Dying to explore her contours
Touch her ethereal glow
Aware that his serenading hum
Seduced by her fire, hitherto unsung
The blue mesmerizing core
That he could never explore
The sanctum sanctorum…
The wings now charred and singed
He writhes in pain yet ecstatic
He would rather be a ‘had been’
Than having lived a life, unseen…*
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
Happy aren't you, on what you see here,in my humble garden?
Life isn't always a garden nice, for some never,one would think.
It would seem a field ravaged by the vagaries of nature,
Even if you try to keep it as the apple of your eye.
Crops get uprooted abruptly,field gets waterlogged,slushy,
Yet you find a far corner nice,clean and dry,a wonder, right?
Sit down there for a while and meditate on such,wonders,
That keep our boat afloat, during the times of uncontrolled floods,
I do that when I am elated, while feeling down and hapless as well.
This world, is created to be good and generates happiness for all.
That's what my dad taught me as we would play hard to get
There and attain goals,without hurting, the others who compete.
"That" he would insist ,"is the spirit, to be nurtured always"
But then we changed,ideas are now different,we need to speak.
On taming our wild ways,by getting in to the lap of mother nature.
Resolving differences is a step forward, bad Karmas left behind,
Every moment of meditation,makes mind a still and clear lake!
"From darkness, lead me to light, I'll gladly share it with others!"
When the light enter in to the sanctum sanctorum of tranquil mind,
What more one would need, isn't living that experience bliss?
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 8:41 AM UTC
Was alone until you were there;
You took my hand in yours,
And we walked the times—both vice and fair.
You left me with no words
To tell you how much I care
For you and love you no end.
Remember the times we spent
In each other’s *****
With nothing betwixt us but love
In our sanctum sanctorum.
In me you remain, and shall sustain—
In a heart that loves you just and sane.
Remember me and, no doubt, I’ll be there
To bathe you in my love and care.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 5:07 AM UTC
Among thee, desperation paints
Sallow cheeks and shaking palms
In the temple in which every child
Consecrates a rebirthing, rejoicing Psalm
Are the steadfast oaths of ages past
Belittled with the present ecstatic gestures?
And upon mine, my chest is pounded
In lieu of papyrus padded scriptures
He walks, the offender, through the halls
While burnt offerings are singed with frankincense
And pulls the steeple’s steel bells
In ode to the sorrowful April shower’s Lent
And finally, the King sits upon his throne
Ad clerum, to the clergy, and nods with respect
When eyed, the child burns inside a dress
Whilst he forgot to genuflect
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming age
In which thine beloved empire crumbles
And the voice of fire breathes out like winter breath
In response to those insidious mumbles
In a world where the ox and *** are slain
For charity to make light of a bleary spring
While He still whispers in my conscience
Still exists their soul in everything
Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
The sanctum sanctorum of love
Reverberates with the waves
From the souls that are in harmony
Welcomed with a tranquil presence
Uplifts you from mere existence
Surrounds you with the freedom
Where hearts run wild with euphoria
Dances to the signature tunes
Each note birthed from the souls
Prepare for a symphony of grandiose
Ostentatious display of true feelings
None, but the connoisseurs of Love
Are captivated with the harmony
When Love is interpreted from heart
This is for Love that does not alter
Remains etched in the mind, forever
Love is not a word, but a feeling, true
Neither what the world deciphers
It is not what we see everyday
Only with access to the sanctum sanctorum
Feel the love that's rare
Therein, lies the truth
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
Pennated souls conform themselves
By gesture unto the penitent crack of doom,
Truths sombrous tintinnabular dissolution
Like to it; crossing the rubicon
Entering the sanctum sanctorum of Mors.
The wraith gerant priest of the
Higher world weighing trammelled
Empty bottles with the funereal
Sword of Damocles, gilding
Thread and thrum eternities moribund lily.
The hollow glass of mortality
Destinies lake of fire;
First purging the dickens dead men,
Living creatures on the wrong tack
Tarred with the same brush
To an igneous second death
Pent to illume the myrtle charnel house
Of the devils bones.
ELEETE J MUIR
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
No investment.
No skin off my nose.
- went back to Fool's day
- and then back to all in, free
No loss in time's eternity,
ended in the awesome knowing.
All trials in the ready past, ordo,
Seclorum Sanctorum Ordo, aside
ordinarily free visitor alien status,
-not allowed, they say, my status
holding no sway,
as a free spirit, they
no say, in the way things work here,
-crosswind to all good fortune
now was set to be long
before me, or thee,
verily
very mankindish, we may make do
imaginable causal agencies,
amen-emo-pet insurance
points in prepositioned order,
as we meander after looking out
past the creation of the sun,
some say, and may know, but we,
the common sensors on the planet,
amused and amusing others as well,
we are finishing a projected imagination,
the rites of spring, proposed as worthy
of our Fantasia evolution from Fool's Day,
through several saints days and processions,
all about the passions,
all appointed anointed salves
slick as any Bucky ball solutions
to the smooth, slave mind fear, hell,
set the captives free, break every yoke,
find the shibboleths and laugh at those,
not the accents ya'll'll use to abuse,
the speaker who stumbles …
tongue tied
while quoting Cretan poets.
Apr 29, 2024
Apr 29, 2024 at 9:05 PM UTC
in this sanctum
where no one enters
deity distinctly different than devotee
she dared
is it the audacity of hope?
or a star about to crash and burn
paying a hefty price
for karmas
well over five thousand years old
that was then....
reentry, this time around
permitted only
when duality truly ends in unity
just like the cosmic hermaphrodite
her residual ego
already deflated
needs to be surrendered
at the doorstep
before being permitted access
into this sanctum sanctorum of love
only then
this half circle
becomes
fully complete
© 2019
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 12:26 PM UTC
As a nail is forgotten
in the wood it's driven
in...confounding purposes
uphold liberating ones.
The dull aches of those
inveterate grayish regions
of a standing structure--
inversion of human proportion...
sanctum sanctorum.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
Walls of reinforced steel
reserve, packed high
with political ambitions
the steps leading up
into the night sky of diamonds,
for prayers from the pulpit of doom
to those huddled below in the basement
chants and incense sticks
the temple stood imposing
upon every worshipers fear.
She was more than *****
as she danced snakes
gyrating to the tax collections of
repentance. At night she coiled
around the sanctum sanctorum
of greed and faked ******* of deceit.
God gave -the priest didn't!
Author Notes
Even if God gave the priest wouldn't?
Contemplation 11
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
You hide in the cascading crystal clear waters,
But O Almighty Lord!
I see you in their rapid flow and also in their abysmal depths....
You hide in the fresh, clean and invisible air and the balmy breezes,
But O Benevolent Lord!
I feel your gentle touch and also hear your soft whispers....
You hide in the majestic cosmos,
But O Omnipresent Lord!
I notice you in your limitless expanse or infinity....
You hide in the roaring, blazing and consuming fires,
But O Powerful Lord!
I see you residing in their resplendent and vibrant dancing flames...
You hide in our beautiful earth, our land, our homeland,
But O Omnipotent Lord!
I feel you in the ashes and dust of our venerated ancestors and the daring warriors and the brave soldiers resting therein...
You hide in the profoundly beautiful, colourful and ambrosial flowers,
But O Awesome Lord!
I find you in their myriad shapes and in their floral, oriental and woody fragrances....
You hide in the thick, dark, lofty, evergreen forests and foliage,
But O Quintessential Lord!
I sense your presence by inhaling your earthy scents and hearing your mysterious silence....
You hide in the snow, the mist and the dew,
But O Worthy Lord!
I find you visible in their ethereal beauty and chastity....
You hide in the fruits and grains and nuts,
But O Bountiful Lord!
I find you in my hunger and thirst....
You hide in all forms, animate or inanimate,
But O Omniscience Lord!
I discern you in the spirit and soul of all objects and creations....
You dwell in the enchanting celestial objects, the sun, the moon and the stars,
But O Everlasting Lord!
I detect you even in their endless motion, incandescence and forever changing appearance each day...
You hide in the temples and all the holy places
But O Comforter Lord!
I meet you there in the sanctum sanctorum of my pious mind...
You hide in the sacred scriptures, epics, chants and hymns,
But O Saviour Lord!
I figure you in piety, virtues, dharmas and the karmas....
You hide in my parents, children, friends, teachers, countrymen,
But O Compassionate Lord!
I revere you in their love, compassion, devotion and care....
You hide and huddle in my mortal body
But O Marvelous Lord!
I hear you in the melody of my heartbeats, rhythm of my pulsating blood, in the music of my successfully orchestrated life….
You hide inside my immortal soul,
But O Extremely Gracious Lord!
I seek you in my existence, prayers and faith....
You hide and I shall seek you anywhere and everywhere in total serenity....
But O Good Lord!
I shall forever remember and worship you and we both shall play this game of hide-and-seek till eternity....
(Composed by Preeti Pathak from India...
My link is... preetikandpalpathak.blogspot.com)
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 1:41 AM UTC
I only imagine
In shapes and calculations
And measurable values
When I am healthy.
The system starts failing
When I start to idealize
The lack of numbers
The lack of words
And the lack of progress.
An optimistic brain can be more dangerous than the cynic.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
like bricks in a wall
we fall under the category of Filling the columns.
\*like a cry from a mortal
who writes letters to get his words in place
so i send 'em through a time portal
as he lives in a different age,
making my piece immortal.
resuscitating minds in their conclusive days*/
the way to my sanctorum
filling the void, in place by the devastation caused by your ammunition.
a threat to the decorum(of the living world)
//all the universe's spheres combined
still wouldn't fit the diametre of the iris in my eyes\\
when i see through you
see THROUGH your mask you
put on to remove the pollution
purifies the skin
and leaves you with
white and glowing
insecurities and commotion.
people flew with the notion
selling their psych in portions
if i would've bought it
then they would've called it
profit in oceans.
Every year you grew more insensitive
and called it promotion.
------------------------------------
through the strands of your hair
i see a clock
with each of its hands facing the opposite of one another
as dynamic as the hues of your face
but in the center.. have the same colour
a ***** of your nail in my back causes
the epiphany to rupture,
so either im too much into hating you
or half past the other.
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 9:59 AM UTC