Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the seers liken it to the surface of a pond,
whose ripples expire upon stoppage of wind,
upon the stoppage of labyrinthine desire
that i desire.

and life was short in a cliched pop standard.
it's clear; the pond has nothing to do with time.
it sends the unending ripples, that's all.
they come, even in halcyon intervals.

lord how i've tried,
legs folded, eyes shut, palm to the sky,
bottle empty, heart numb, head to the cloud.
they come; it's no use.

i can't switch off molten tides.
i can't separate breathing from breath.
the seers stop the ripples,
and i start them again.

faint sounds
fail in the empty laberynth
faddist fade
in fact

(I'm joking!). I really like your poem!

mnaz wrote

lord how i've tried,
legs folded, eyes shut, palm to the sky,...

and life was short in a cliched pop standard.
it's clear; the pond has nothing to do with time.
it sends the unending ripples, that's all.
they come, even in halcyon intervals.

Speaking of cliched pop songs

Johnny Cash:
Unchained

... And I have been unwise
Restless from the cradle...
Have I seen an angel
Or have I seen a ghost
Where's that rock of ages
When you need it most

The closest I can get to timelessness these days is a walking meditation.

I enjoyed reading your poem
More than enjoyed it
It was helpful
thank you

cannot stop mind
can stop attachment

or mind noise..

finding the still point in that special chaos called "life"...