Qoheleth: Part A

An empty breath is life with vanity heaped upon vanity,
And all seems insanity as we march forward into death

One generation fades into oblivion as another fills its place,
But the world eternally remains in earth and sea and space,
And the face of the sun shines along a fine circuit by design,
Always to rise, always to set — to begin again once again —
As the wind blows south, then north, turning and churning,
Returning to burning land, seas and hills with terrible trills;
And rivers flow all into the ocean, yet the ocean never fills,
And then the ocean delivers its waters to the rivers to flow
And to show how mighty are they below surface so serene;
Yet are all creatures ever turbulent, creation insubordinate,
And the eye of man is never sated, but by temptation baited,
While the ear has truncated voices of virtue created by God,
Animated and articulated for all of humanity so devastated;
Yet whatever has been will be so again — time without end —
Indeed, there is nothing new under the sun,
For what was begun before will begin again;
Indeed, some say, “Look at this! Look at that!” but what of it?
We covet creativity and a birth of something worth our life,
But we have only some short time before the last bell chimes,
And there will be no memory of our lifetimes upon this earth,
And there is no expectation of some to come in coming days…

An empty breath is life with vanity heaped upon vanity,
And all seems insanity as we march forward into death

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Noble Manifesto

I will read to plant seeds of knowledge to breed wisdom untold,
And so bold, I will continue burning with a passion for learning
To be made no one’s fool or hapless tool in the long school of life
In which I will sing the living song so strong
As I carry along within a throng of humanity,
And I will be lovely for all to see, giving smiles to miles of faces,
Playing in rhythm with angels, marching through the cataclysm
Of apocalyptic terror, while fighting ‘n writing for full freedom,
And I will drop to my knees in an unadorned attitude of gratitude,
And stop to enjoy the wonder of fields flowing with bright flowers,
And even though I may blunder what I should say along this way,
I will never rue the day I was born, nor will I be at all forlorn,
But I’ll adorn myself in happy apparel as heaven leavens my soul,
And I will love with love from above, and cheer the cheerless,
With none to mourn, but all to give to live this apropos manifesto

Note: This manifesto was inspired by Patty and her own manifesto. Please read and enjoy … and thank you, Patty!

Beyond Abhilāaṣhā

Waking-life is the ruthless taskmaster, leading to disaster,
But what is at the heart of this center-part of our reality?
It is the heart itself, filled with wanton desire
That reaches higher and burns in blazing fire
Of the soul with gaping hole which naught can satisfy
In ten thousand years of fears, nor can riches rectify
With truth the Self that lives within to defy many lies
Of destitution and all spiritual pollution of this world
Of Soul circumvolution and execution of tranquility;
So now reject desire, lust, and anger and the dangers
Of this life, and learn the nomenclature of wisdom;
Indeed, wisdom from above, and secure divine love,
And so shall you be free upon bended knee to see
Far beyond the bondage of mere earthly knowledge
With no stoppage nor even shortage of pure wisdom,

So shall you overthrow the taskmaster and avert disaster

Note: Abhilāaṣhā means “lust” and/or “desire.” This poem was inspired by my friend and fellow writer, Kunal Thakore, particularly hisAnd from Scribbles is Born Art.

Plea to My Son: Wisdom Living

So many times in life I thought I knew what was best
And I wore the vest of pride in stride with arrogance,
And I tried with all of my might to make it all so right
Only to fall into the dark night of the soul with a hole
In my heart and my mind bound against sound reason,
Collapsing into an awful season of tumultuous unrest,
And all the while there were blessings untold for me
That I could just barely see in the distance but would
Not touch in my insistence to forge ahead with plans
Of my own that were sown in isolation and darkness;
And, oh, how I wish now that I could go back and bow
To sense and sensibility, to rewrite my past in lasting
Joy and peace with a new lease on life . . . but no, son,
This I cannot do and so I sue myself in the court of life
So rife with pain and such little gain from such insane
Decisions and I hold my history in derision, my child;
So I say to you, do not walk the same path I’ve walked,
But be sober-minded and clear-headed and do pray
Before you say what you think you want and then leap
Without looking! Read the book of your own father
To learn and burn not with zeal but hear without fear
Wise counsel offered and open your eyes to see gifts
Already bestowed in your life and do not thrown away
What has been so freely given to enliven your fantasy!
Sense and sensibility under the cover of prayer, my son;
Take the higher and better road; yes, the better road!

Such Beauty in the Dangerous Beautiful

Look up at the moon and soon you will be enthralled by her beauty,
But then imagine dying as you’re lying on her bed of cold rock . . .
Gaze upon the awesome magnificence of the lion at a safe distance,
But then consider being mauled in your insistence to draw near . . .
Mountains are majestic but also so often dangerously undomestic;
Ah! What is beautiful can be so bountiful and so very inspirational,
But dangerous to the venturous, killing those willing to draw near
To what they hold dear in that same beauty that demands no duty
To die for what they can eye safely from afar, like a star in the sky;
Some beauty is mostly ghostly and simply cannot be held closely
But only admired in an almost lonely manner like what is holy . . .
Be wise in what your eyes see and the sudden rise in your heart
To claim some prize that was never meant to be possessed by you;
Admiration and appreciation does not demand your possession;
Be discerning and ever learning to calm the burning in your heart


Note: Originally penned on December 1, 2016, now being republished due to some renewed interest as well as for the enjoyment of new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all!

The Long Road Ahead

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

Some people travel lightly while others carry heavy loads;
Some folks make the trek alone while others with a hoard;
And some cry in the dirt without trying to make their way,
While others smile at the day and stay straight the course

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

You may meet and greet people walking slowly and lowly;
You may meet and greet people sweet with lots of treats;
And you just might run into some rash and brash types, too,
But there are also those who are always steadfast and true

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

Face this long road stretched ahead
Be careful where you make your bed
Remember only what good was said
Be humble but surely keep your head

Some folk will stop along the way in the middle of the day,
While others forge on with a song and a pep in their step;
Some people will recognize that it’s no good to agonize,
While others fraternize with complainers and naysayers

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

So, how will you spend the journey with so many trends,
On this long ‘n winding road ahead that has no dead end?

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend