Tag Archives: Poetry

The Last Poem

I need a poem so stunningly beautiful

That it self-destructs

I would guzzle such a poison that annihilates the reader

Where each verse joyfully burns away my weathered skin

Leaving no aspect of this reality unchallenged

Upon reading such a creation I rise above this body

And witness the mortal me

As the entirety of his existence

Dissolves into nonsense

Quickly, a desperate escalation of his pace

As the emptiness hunts for him

With each step he pushes against crumbling stones

His fingers claw into the earth with all that he can muster

Still, he falls into that unrelenting blackness

Wailing and Flailing

The pounding wind from the decent

Soon becomes as still as a vacuum

All perceptions are left floating

Empty and resting

His surroundings become irrelevant

And I can’t tell if he’s still falling

Nor can he

Differences dissolve

And our true nature resolves

It is the merging of that which was never apart

Oh to have such a poem

Freedom packed into rhyme

Infinity captured within time

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The Worn Out Cloth

These cracked and weakened hands

Wringing this worn out cloth

For every last drop

That wasn’t already there

A desperate search for purity

Yields not but the divine nature of futility

Becoming brilliantly careless

An effortless smile

Erupts into laughter

A servant of humility

Discarded notions of ability

A hint of there-ness

Tickling this moment from beneath my skin

The once cursed silent dialogue of truth

Bathes me in a pool of the senses

Softening my pursuit

So I may be pursued

Hand in hand with my soul

Onwards we march

Salute to Robert Burns

In the spirit of New Years Eve I went searching through some Robert Burns poetry to find some words that spoke to me and found this little gem in a poem called “Tam o’ Shanter”. I hope you enjoy and have a Happy New Year!

But pleasures are like poppies spread:
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow fall on the river,
A moment white – then melts forever,
Or like the Aurora Borealis rays,
That move before you can point to their place;
Or like the rainbow’s lovely form,
Vanishing amid the storm.
No man can tether time or tide,
The hour approaches Tom must ride

Be still and know this eternal Truth: Consciousness – true Love – is the Supreme Force

Below is a link to wonderful poem by Gautam Sachdeva called “The World’s Best Astrologer”. Gautam is a former student of guru Ramesh Balsekar who was himself a student of Nisargadatta Maharaj. Through his YouTube channel here Gautam explains many of Ramesh’s most important teachings with extreme clarity. It is definitely worth your time. Enjoy the poem below.

The World’s Best Astrologer

The Paradox of Spirituality

I am always doing, when nothing need be done.

I search for answers, when there is nothing to find.

I strive to learn, but I must unlearn.

I wake from sleep, into another dream

I search for God, it is God that seeks.

I ask for forgiveness, but there’s nothing to forgive.

I run away, but never move an inch.

I beg for knowledge, of what I already know.

I fear my death, but have presumed my birth.

I am nothing, but I am everything.

Is Creative Writing A Form Of Non-Surrender?

The practice of surrender is an exercise recommended by many of the most recognizable spiritual gurus. We hear that letting go of resistance and accepting the is-ness of the present moment is key to achieving a lasting inner peace.

I have also read much about the link between true creativity and spirituality. Eckhart Tolle says that “All true artists, whether they know it or not, create from a place of no-mind, from inner stillness.” In learning this I began to attempt to tap into my creative side. I thought that in doing this I would also be tapping into my own spiritual dimension. This is where my question appears. If I am being creative as a way of transcending my unhappy current state, is this actually a form of not surrendering to the realities of the present moment?

True creativity comes from stillness, but can creativity also lead to stillness?

One thing I had noticed about my life prior to being introduced to the spiritual dimension is that I had practically no outlet for creativity. There was no vehicle through which any artistic creation could emerge. By starting to write poetry I wanted to open that door and see what popped out.

However, poetry has become something I am hoping will lead me to a more enlightened state. Rather than enjoying the act of creating on it’s own I have burdened it with the task of transcendence and infinite wisdom. In fact, I find that all of my doing has become polluted with outcomes and expectations. I rarely do things out of a natural instinct, but instead look at how each task will affect my spiritual journey.

I need to go much deeper into surrender and make space for whatever comes next.

I still dream of writing a beautiful poem that touches many but to write beautiful poetry you need to see beautiful things. John Keats said “Beauty is truth, truth beauty”. Perhaps through surrender I will see truth.