DMT

Dimethyltryptamine,
DMT 2U&Me,
Sends one on a trip
It seems, with
Psychedelic meandering,
Alien encountering,
Ineffable Spirituality
Bearing Hallucinogenic Tendencies;
A Shamans Reality
Induced?

                          Yes . . .   

 . . . but this time, Only Meditatively!

This (almost) Poem I wrote this morning whilst in bed, it describes how I felt at that moment in time - EXACTLY!

. . from an exhausted head . . 

Exhausted disposition
It is Unanimous
Functioning disabled
Incapacitated brain waves
Chemically imbalanced
Photons misfiring
Totally Pusillanimous.

What is it about? It's about my state of mind, well I am tired through lack of sleep and my partner and I had heavy discussions the night before - and I have this hanger-on of a virus which is making me feel totally out of sorts and has done for over two weeks now.

Feeling sorry for meself? Absolutely ha, ha - and yes, that is soooo unenlightened of me, I totally agree; so be it!

Anyway, the point is I got out of that pusillanimous state of mind by getting showered, and doing some EFT, which is Emotional Freedom Techniques for the uninitiated amongst my readers, and a little meditation and positive self-talk helped as well!

Wahhabi!

Writer's Block
Dissipated through
Ummmm . . .

. . let me think, errr . . .

Oh Yeah...

It matters not
You simply don't care,
My Block though
Leaves me in despair;
Wide eyed
Coffee induced
The Pulling out of hair,
Wahhabi!!!

Oops! What happened there?
I said Aagh!
But computer say 'NO',
We'll have 'Wahhabi'
Instead!
(Where the Fffff did that come from?)

Maybe Wahhabi
Is all that's
In my head?

I really Koran
Not believe it,
I should have left
The word
In a conservative
Saudi Arabian
Homestead.

Sigh.

Was that a sign?
No, a sigh,
You're confused by
A line,
An extension above the 'n'
Turning this sign
Sigh-wards!

WAFFLE!

Yes please,
Make mine HOT
With melted Ice Cream;
Yummy...
I wave goodbye
To the empty sigh
Inside my Tummy!

By golly
I think it's worked
My waffling has
Deliquesced this Block;
And the Mountain?
To Mohammed
Has come
As once more
I SQUAWK!

***

Meaning Of:

Wahhabi?

Wah·ha·bi

   [wuh-hah-bee, wah-]  Show IPA

noun, plural Wah·ha·bis. Islam .

a follower of ʿAbd al-Wahhab (1703–1792), who stringentlyopposed all practices not sanctioned by the Koran. The Wahhabis,founded in the 18th century, are the most conservative Muslimgroup and are today found mainly in Saudi Arabia.

The Indifferent Moment

Once conceived
What's focused on
Can be achieved;
Positive or negative
Are simply opposite positions
So don't be deceived;
Where your attention is
Doesn't even have to be
Joyously Believed!

What's acknowledged
Becomes reality,
Emotional attachment
Like a hook of intent
Makes Conception an inevitability . . .

. . and so,
The Moment Unfolds
Indifferently.



Okey, be warned . . the truth may hurt, but the moment is totally indifferent, it simply unfolds accordingly; meaning? Well, what one has in one's life, right now, is what one has acknowledged to oneself that one is truly worthy of. 


You can't fool consciousness (The Moment), it simply unfolds according to what you 'believe' to be real or true. It will unfold as your greatest fears, regardless of all protestations, if those fears are greater than your greatest desires . . .

. . "What you acknowledge is what you get!" There's no escape clause here . . . 

You Spruik Too Soon . . .

Don't go into your Spruik
For me
I really don't Spook
That easily;
Seen it all before.
Spiel like that?
Only makes me feel
Indifferently.
Not sitting on the fence here
Sorry, but you have no
defence . . .

. . . you see?

Probably not,
Your Spruik is
All thou be!
;-)

Please apply to all Self-opinionated Spiel thrusters!

Painted Lady

Painted Lady
Skin farded thick in her forte'd disguise.

Painted Lady
Mascara dripping darkened eyes.

Painted Lady
Perfume drenched to attract desired male fly's.

Painted Lady
Her smile; mock-modesty, her cheek?
Part paint;

Mostly a lie . . .


Painted Lady
Stiletto boots up to her thighs.

Painted Lady
Clothes twisted to attract the attention for which,

Her desperation Cries.

It's not about 

Imagined 

rights and wrongs, 

it is 

about seeing the reality behind 

The Masquerade!

Hey Rube!

Shout Hey Rube, rally the troops, 

Shout Hey Rube; put on your boots. 

Hit them now, 

They shout OW!. 

Shout Hey Rube to end all 

                              Public-Circus disputes!

1CorneredPoet2ManyCircusDisputes

What's this limerick all about? Well now, the term Hey Rube originated in the 19th century when circuses were rowdy affairs and "Hey Rube" was the rallying cry to call all circus people to help in a fight with townspeople. It's not clear whether Rube in this term was someone specific or simply a use of the informal term rube (shortened form of Reuben) for an unsophisticated person from a rural area. Earliest documented use: 1882. Visit: http://www.spaciousplanet.com/world/guide/hey-rube-the-circus-battle-cry

Poetastery: In Art Form!

Creativity

Deserts me

As I write

These Wrongs,

Whilst Righting

The World

With a Poets 

Rhythm less

Songs.

All along

Imposing this 

Need

To be

Nothing more than

An empty

Christmas Tree . . 

. . in

May . .

. . . a poetaster . . . 

I

Have Nothing

Much

To Say.

This 

Is

Poetastery

In

The Extreme,

All

I can Offer is

An

Entanglement

Of

Worms

Drowning

In

A Stream . . 

. . Of

Wordsmith Mediocrity.

But,

This Too Is

Art,

He (um, that's me) Declared

With the Bravado 

Of

A Bottomless

Fart.

1Poetaster4You2Read

Ok, well I just felt like writing something! So be it . . . 

Without A Doubt

Acceptance,
Letting go now
Of all frustrations
And their emotional
Relations,
Such as Fear, Doubt
And Anxiety,
Whom creep up on me
Surreptitiously,
Like dust
Settling on the table
Of my Life.

Wiping the slate
Clean,
With the duster of
Presence,
What does FEAR
Mean:
False Expectations Appearing Real?
Without a Doubt,
Another of life's Lessons.

The Wayward Yogic Poet

"Yogic Poetry?"
He asked
Aghast!

Yes I've decided
To publish some
At last.

"Hm, why have you taken
So long to take
This step?"

Because I haven't
Written any
Yet!

Well, actually I have
But it's plain
To see,
I need more time
To make
Poetic Yogi
History . . .

. . . I'll put the kettle on!

On my other blog, 1Yogi2Many, I have written plenty of poetry . . . of a sort. Although I have to say that much of my work comes to me in Aphoristic style, oops, what does that mean? I mean in the style of an Aphorism or even a Stanza . . . or some such stylization of words. Basically what writes through me, writes through me . . what happens, happens . . is there really any choice? Sometimes, I find, there are no words to write with, just as there are days when I don't have the legs to dance with ;-/ ....

... you know exactly what I mean, right? Is it a problem, no, what is . .  . Is.

Disquiet

Paranoid disquiet
Like some distant alarm bell
Rings, no, reverberates . . through this being
Like an automatic machination
Getting ever louder
Diminishing life’s once perfect illumination.

1ParanoidPoet2Many

Naked Life

Dismantled by the thought

Of a life lived without Love

Which once was shared

With the Joy of two

And now

One

Dancing alone

On the shores of life

No longer draped in her Aura

Naked once more . . .

Limerick My Hols!

Life's A ?

Jogging in the Lanzarote Sun
Keeping fit, is lots of fun.
Life's a Beach
Blue skies within reach,
Smirking as I enter a sprinters Run!


1SprintingPoet2MuchSun

Awakening Spirit

Lord Divine

Lord Divine
Sweet Lord Divine,
I am Yours
Sweet Lord,
As You are Mine.

Eternal Life
Abides Within
For I am in Thee
As Thou Art in Me,
And Now we are One;
Perfect Unity.

'The Cornered Poet'

    When I was about twenty-four years of age I was going through a very real spiritual experience. Now,  remember, I started Yoga and Meditation at the tender age of thirteen, and there followed an awakening of my latent spirit. Over the ten intervening years I had a growing desire to understand the purpose and meaning of life, which I pursued with a passion.

    The Poem above came to me out of nowhere one day. It was my first poem, at that time I had no idea where it came from, it simply appeared in my psyche, and it became a part of my everyday life from that day forth as a mantra and a prayer of awakening spirituality.

    I don't want to interpret this poem for you, if you would like to open a dialogue, well that would be great. This poem, over the years changed, it expanded and became even more meaningful to me . . .

. . . it has always had a life of its own! I could show you the extended version if you're interested?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it,

Doug :-)

The Noose Is Cut

Whispering death, beckoning,
Calling my name.
Liberation, likewise,
Sweet, silent pull, is but the same.

No escape
I'll pass away,
Immortality?
Perhaps another day.

Or letting go,
Of all I'm not
Salvation realized,
The noose is cut.

Now, when death calls
I'll be free,
For 'I' am already in
Eternity.

The Eternally Cornered Poet

This Poem was inspired by the work of The Mystic Poet Kabir, and I wrote several blog posts on his work on my Self-Knowledge blog.

Tempered Spirit

Tempered Spirit
Flowering in this blog-
Osphere.

Words like
Worms wriggle
On this Page-
Less Page;
Oh dear!

A Cornered Poet?
Maybe
Words define me
Latently.

What they say
Is not so
Clear.

Is this meant
To rhyme, chime
In ways
Sublime?

No.

The Cornered Poet

Poetry is what it is, not what you want it to be. What is said, is not necessarily said in ways that are immediately cognizant . . . but when read over several times, a fresh meaning and a new awareness, can become clear!