An Ode to Silence

 

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A rush of feelings unspoken, words unfelt:

In a daze of illusory righteousness,

It was your demons I fed, I adorned;

And mine with whom I went to bed.

 

What does a child know of (revered) sanity!

What do they care for childlike purity!?

I lose touch with my fabric of woven riddles,

I’d rather be naked than masked in disguise.

I’d rather be someone else for a moment,

Than to be me, and be full of lies.

 

The dance she MUST dance, to keep away from hell.

 

No disciples desired, no fame required;

Each time we would sit, Him we admired.

An intense whiteness , for what we aspired:

Nothing is mine, all is only acquired…

I am only to watch, being watched,

To recognize, this, and

To see my stance being played,

And being played well, indeed.

 

Master! Mercy! For your sake of God!..

This flower shows healing in her winter harvest;

Blossoms in a white, as liberated as Death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Vessel of the Who

You are the Who,

The one I find myself, reverting to:

And reverting in a way, utterly true!

My suffering has known no ends, it depends

on a myriad ways, the world pretends…

Reason, beyond the depth of eternity,

And Poetry begins to melt in her shoes.

I rip out weeds from roots of seeds,

Thus sowing a harvest on which she could breed,

For I wish to think as rhymes and hues…

To float as a vessel on the surface of Thought:

to float in that ocean, to swim without sinking.

Let the vessel be itself, Feeling;

Let the feeling do its own thinking!

Written: 28-10-2013