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vircapio gale Aug 2012
on moonstone slab Manmata flames again
from out of ashes rises, gloating unfinality of Shiva's dance
reincarnate offering of endless Self
in Lakshmi's avatar
a fateful prince's heart to lance

and lanced his heart her visage did,
                                                     though with vaster pinions fully pierced was she, in depths
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                 without rivalry~

his lust was sharp to invite solitude,
but easy to conceal,
he imagined cupping her against him,
scoured memory of upward glimpse,
inch  by  inch
with added imagery, invention moulding her
beneath his grasp
from forehead curls along
glowing skin and eyes
to curving, palatially appareled ******* . . .
her open lips . . .  her hips
--but after, merely to dismiss
and even sleep a bit
and quip inside at irony
to be at mercy
of a girl in flowers
when he with arrows demons lay to rest
(though she would, within the selfsame hours lose her wits ;)

in cityscape descried the triad:
gold dome gifts for sky
in shining generosity
Mithila's people overflow with joy
exuding free abundance carelessly--
jewelry loosed on playful street
from overkeen embrace, is left to lie;
loss in ever-present wealth nigh obsolete

musth of elephant, froth of steed,
floral garlands tangle, line and mix
for clouds of honey-bees to lick their feast.
a bustling of virile acrobatic populace--
symphonic mux of chaos tressed,
metropolis of idylls coalesced;
drums, races, grinning faces flinging courtship,
smirking merchants under wigs
bathers splash exotic fish to flit and weave
while ballads sift for higher pitch of love

from elevated terrace ladies prance
and watching from an inner spire
the princess spies her prince--
emerald shoulders, lotus-petal eyes
Vaikunta hidden from their mortal sight
but straining recognition there,
a union ageless as the stars
inspired suddenly another first:
Rama's transfixed stare she feels and meets,
strangers locked entwining glances
--fated simultaneous-- electric heat   like
from a planet sparking for the taste of outer space --
the lightning burns its mark ensouled
in blooms beyond her ripe, anthophilous form,
verdant visions planted in the rays of light
between two instant loves
to slip inside the eyelid entrance
and evermore impregnate with a glory ill,
as separation wills,
to colonize throughout with other Being there
phantasmal yearnings of entrancing elegance
--from dawn of time instilled, akashic script
of binding hurt with joy in love's embrace
condemn desire to a writhing term
when not imbibing such togetherness
a worldless crypt preferred

and so as swift as gymnast flip to fall
the heart is gushing toxic lack,
epic ventricles the viscose tug
in fluid inspiration wrote of Sita's
sudden addict gnashing inner plight
while slips the sight interred within the crowd,
as if a sorcerer the cosmic sea to play her destiny:
the waves inside enraged to overwhelm
the sudden coral crust beneath the swell
an unmarked seaside's lavish drown unto the land
and reeling send this fragile ******
into wilting, her floral haze to drooping fell...
        in revelatory crash of passion's oceanic weight...
attendants pamper uselessly
--from swoon to mood irate
to wait until the next appearance of her mortal god
the only one to sate the shameless need
entwining up within a clenching wrack of milky fits
from bed to sweaty bed they take the burning maiden~
the outer sea inflow in calming dusk meant nothing to the agony of new romance
                       sequestered in hymenic fire, dawning brilliant
                                                       ­                                omni chakral pierce in rays,
                                                                ­                                                              tot­ality relentlessness
and therein descry a wholeness
  yet unregained
a hopeless birdsong careless as the wind
in caring strokes of pollen redolence
for forest ears an endless vibrate mate
of elemental ease the simmer float
upon the dukkha broil paths embroidery of karmic
cookery the godly recipe invoked,
gibed her without cease,
****** flare eternal guna coals to stoke
and spite her with their peace,
for her attainment only next to he
the moon communes the message blinding clear
amid the ghee her girls would light in care
to soften her despair -- but only aggravate her state --
and so by dim refracted moondrops set,
in only gemlight, Sita basks in pain
her gaze entrained by night obsessively
while overhead the crescent hook beams
freely in to fertilize her all-too-chastely girdle there,
petals wilting under body pressed to slab of stone
as mounting groan on groan intones her writhing questioning
of whomever he could be to cast her moaning so
a deity in maidenhead unwitting of such otherlife
left by endless, anthrocosmos' whim to ache, and alone
in wonder scream abandonment from aether poise
confusion reigning noisome nescient choice


















.
Manmata: the god of love, who Shiva is said to have burned to ashes with the purity of his contemplation
Lakshmi: Hindu goddess of wealth, prosperity (both material and spiritual), fortune, and the embodiment of beauty. She is the consort of the god Vishnu. She takes her mortal form as Sita in the Ramayana, destined for Rama (who is Vishnu's avatar).
Guna: an element, 'thread', 'string' or principle of nature; the three gunas are (sattva), (rajas), and (tamas)
Dukkha: suffering
Anthro-: as in 'human'

"The impact of the Ramayana on a poet, however, goes beyond mere personal edification; it inspires him to compose the epic again in his own language, with the stamp of his own personality on it.  The Ramayana has thus been the largest source of inspiration for the poets of India throughout the centuries . . . Thus we have centuries-old Ramayana in Hindi, Bengali, Assamese, Oriya, Tamil, Kannada, Kashmiri, Telugu, Malayalam, to mention a few."   -R.K. Narayan (whose prose version of Kamban's 11th c.e.Tamil --originally written on palm leaves-- i'm reading at the moment, and whose advice i've found myself compelled to follow. in no way am i an authority, but an amateur--literally--'in love')

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/ramas-inauguration-facing-the-murderous-gluttony-of-thataka/

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/soorpanaka-the-demon-as-kamavalli-lusts-for-rama-1/
Eureka Merton Dec 2017
No thought can grasp this
ocean we enter
in Holy embrace
together.

This Placeless place
echoes a memory,
unseen here, only Love
carried in waves of light.

Fingers soft as petals of Lilly
lifting into infinity, touching gently,
with the delicacy of a Lover
bound by Heart to the Beloved.

In Reverence you reach
to meet the unseen song of no-thing
as the One Heart opens, revealing
fragrance mimicing the fields of Heavens on High.

Sharing the feast of Heart
boundless, awake
waves of intoxicated bliss opening This
as He decends upon, as your lips.

Dancing under moonlight
no eyes can see
delighting in poem
no words can speak.

The ocean sings of Silence
to the ship longing for shore
washing away all sense
of "two", all need for "more".

We, ever becoming
take off on a star heading for Truth
and leave the sleeping and waking
to the dreamers.

The Lover's destiny
is the union Absolute,
following the inevitable, miraculous
disappearance of the universe.

Ocean and waves voyaged in Mind
become worldless Void
You and I,
Boundless, Unborn Love
Traveling the cosmic sea
Two become One
Lover and Beloved
Unborn love
Harley Hucof Apr 2021
Life is all entertainment , just like a psychedelic theater, our thoughts and breath whisper reality into creation.
I roam in and out my worldless kingdom
Freedom's reserved for the wild and untamed.
For who cares to know, we could fly our way out as falcons , or swim our way in as whales. It will never really matter because it's all entertainment , while we patiently wait for the emanations.
Expectations emerge from preconceived notions and blocks the transmissions entitled to all sentient beings.
Like a collective prophet and a magnet , we learn to filter the commands to percieve the matrix. Finally to redefine and recreate a convenient  path that is real.
Our thoughts and breath whisper reality into creation, i chose my fun as transmutation, life is recreational.


Words Of Harfouchism
Zead Jun 2014
Forget the ones that look down on others for only running a sandwich shop
Forget the ones who abide to the standards of illusion
Realize the grief you shoot into the masses
I despise everything you are
It’s not that you’re professional
It’s what professional made you out to be
Your eyes eroded from money and alcohol
Your pride creates the shame of the humble
And nothing else pumps through your veins
the homeless, your worst nightmare, nonetheless have such a more colorful heart than yours
You’d **** us off to rule this worldless plane
If only you didn’t exist
Could we be free of this *******
What do you have to offer?
I want to know
Can u even give a needy person a hug?
So please-stay away from my life
The tools of death you’ve made
Used for protection from the innocent
I’m no better than you
But I want to try and make truth
Because we are all selfish
But selfish isn’t what we’re made into
September Mar 2013
Wordless,
She says
she loves me.

Worldless,
she does
not
breathe.
Sana Nov 2014
Voices are people
And people are me
Are you crazy yet
Am I insane already
Voices can see too
Even if they have no face
Voices are nameless too
Since they don't exist anyway
What to say
Else or same
Self or made
Words are us too
But people are worldless here
Ay, why is your face blurry dear
Why can't I remember you
Come a little bit closer
Come sit next to me
Talk so I can hear
Speak so I can know
Who you are
Who you've been
Senseless, like I am
I'll keep your secrets
Deep within
Evan Backward Jun 2012
Mountains sway and tumble.
A quaking bumps against innocence. 
The moon passes over the sun,
Birth of a night, granting vision of the shadows.
Monsters come out to play.
They crash stone and boulder,
And the dead cry in worldless sound.
david mitchell Feb 2017
Left lost after love's deep virulence,
Leaving me in deep need of a metaphysical therapist.
Her heart harder than the blindness of erebus,
But the relationship was based off of panic trusts,
So forever until never it was, a manic driven worldless wonderlust.
i'll come back to it, maybe later, maybe never
Jean Rojas Apr 2015
Into the night I seek
The silhouette of chance,
Black merges into white
A flight of dances
Step into the light
To erase the shadows
Of a man
Whose face over voice
In melancholic range
Now weeps beneath dreams
Of reckless prose
eager to know the birth
Of another dawn
In the arms and wings
Of past future strides…

The deadly dark of the
Running night
Is everywhere in sight
From bars to bedrooms
Juxtaposing
Each irreverent line of
Tomorrows yet to come
But has nothing to offer
That is of consequence

Forget the deranged sorrow
I say
Night has its blessings for sale
Turn your head to this side
And derail the empty wail
A breathtaking flight
Is a plight that is borrowed
From fateless time

Oh aphrodisiac nights
When the heart seals
The worldless spirit
I caress your face
With the touch of my mind,
I have known these moments before
When the throat runs dry
And feelings are high…
A song is conceived
By the magical sighs
Born to grow
With the sweet breath
Of love
Night blossoms
And withers into morn
The stars swoon
In the slumber of the moon
Maybe again
Your face will I see
As the creatures of mystery
Celebrate their
Change of colors
Outrageously
Into the night…..
For : Ken Wahl (1992)
mike Feb 2015
an egg shell lays broken
in my skull.
and a chameleon
melts its colors
into music there.
shedding roots
down to my
fingertips
playing love
on your
lower back
while you sing
worldless sweat
into my neck
where i keep
your name.
Mary-Rose H Jun 2017
For too long, she'd been held back, held in, and suppressed.

"No more!" cried her spirit. It strained incessantly and undeniably against her rib cage. The buildup was too much. She let loose all that was burning and soaring in her soul, screamed her anger and frustration, sobbed her pain and loneliness, and sang at the top of her lungs. It was complete release, yet the more she gave, the more rose and expanded and ran rampant in her blood. The admirable and the beautiful mixed with the abhorrent and the ugly in a dizzying storm, all her highest heights and lowest depths roaring though her at once. She cried and laughed with the same breath.  She felt as if she would burst, for all that was contained within her shell couldn't remain so. It couldn't be possible that she wasn't about to explode from the love and rage and need that just kept growing, and growing, and growing. Everything she'd needed so desperately to express from so long came rushing out in a worldless deluge that drowned her senses until she was pure, raw emotion. All that had been and would be no longer existed. The only thing that was in all of time and space was the fierce, glorious feeling that she had become.

How could she go back?
I woke up in a pool of blood
I tried to **** myself again
oh tragic dark lord
you know you never die

Yet I dream.. one day
one day I will finish myself
I must make it
so ****** tragic

My want of the night
my last of the dark
tragic poet
tragic life

Assassin you
with ****** to you intent
master of nothing
lord apart of worldless wonders

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Rinav May 2018
Bite me
The pain recedes
Lie in peace
Miserly depth

Lost in a worldless world
Moving towards nowhere
Meaningless are my strides
I tried to hide

Explosions, of flavours
Explosions, of thoughts
Emptied out until the pain
Fell down

Finding meaning
In lost people
Loneliness betrays me
Betrays reality

Walking on this path
Whistles ring around me
The snow, white is all I see
It'll be over soon

I bid goodbye
To my fellow comrades
Hopelessly in bliss
Greetings.
I went through the looking glass.
I went down the rabbit hole.
I took the red pill and blinked
into a world I always wanted.
Ayn Jan 2020
Is it red or gold?
I can no longer see the difference.
They both have meaning, warm and cold,
but I have no background inference.

Red like the fluttering cardinal's feathers,
but with a worldless ocean of depth.
The eminent vitality permeates the countless layers,
and a single look was enough to deftly steal my breath.

but it might as well be a searing gold,
with its sheen of softly sleeping amber.
A vibrancy that boils my blood cold,
and fills my mind with fruitless clamor.

I see it as neither or both.
The gold brings solace, while the red is my reality.
Before the colors flow, I must swear my saving oath,
that the delusion will never end my forlorn vitality.
I remembered writing this poem a while back, after questioning myself why my blood was no longer red (it was red, I just couldn't see it for some reason). written summer-ish(?) 2019, vastly edited Jan.10.2020.
Norbert Tasev May 2020
You would surely search in vain for the place of the peninsula where we once stumbled: Its place and name only appear among the secret maps of your brain at most! In a dreamy age, the village is steeped in the subtle curves of swaying valleys, - now I still stumble myself here: Like the adventures chasing the thrills of a rusty iron cat, they are more frightening but not inspiring!

The incentive is much more frightening than it would encourage! Then it is more the lasting Loneliness, the loneliness, the active inaction of one place; Writing, word carving, different things! Among millions, you would be looking for your independence, your liberation from everything: you can only be an exiled, taunted son, because there has not been a son of man on this earth yet who has listened to you with patient silence. He has long been disappointed in mercy and compassionate and faithful friendships! - I'll leave my hand on paper! Let him ride and cover. I intersect hieroglyphs with protest indifference to Time: Its immortal eternity should not be threatened by the most obsessed Boredom.

Would I be amazed at the Mercies? I did not ask for mercy, only dying compassion for the fragments of goodness; sometimes it is good to escape into a warm, *****, worldless oduk as a target of sanda gazes, they cannot catch! With indifference, I keep listening to the half-sentences of Being: "Our budget does not allow for salary increases!" - In vain! - Wages, at a slamp rate, that hardly helps!

Anger, anger, swearing hardly use it here - it is slowly approaching half of my life, and years of service make mistakes as many juss columns when establishing retirement! I will find the peninsula, where my full harmony will be over sixty anno - afraid, I may never visit, I may not discover it!

— The End —