Zayra . . . I understand that this piece may be a bit too long . . . it may also not fit the content that you are looking for, not sure . . . but I submit it nonetheless . . . Marc
Om Mani Padme illuminati of the mind,
Oh muted saxophone creating an ambient background
for Life’s delicate dancers
inside the circle of Creation’s global stage
of time and space.
Ah . . . but are we listening,
are we strumming absent guitars around society’s
only half glowing campfire
or are we blending our voices with the prophets
of a noble and far reaching future?
There is no need to sit in spiritual starvation
before a table of caviar and non aged wine,
no need to fall to our knees
and pray the horizontal prayers of our fathers
when the crimson clock of perpetual warfare
ticked on and on ad nauseam.
Tragic expression etched on anguish faces,
dead dandelions growing upon
the weeping soil of the soul?
NO! Let them be delivered
from the once festering masks of the past
that melted into the broken history books
like the running of undisciplined ink.
Oh may our bodies be devoid of weeping sores,
may the initial structure of our thoughts
resonate with an explosion of wings
and may the political junkies welcome
our visions of tomorrow
with repentant eyes.
So om mani padme illuminati of the mind . . .
let us rediscover the first rose
in the first garden
and ignore the sick skin of the systematic serpent
we unknowingly gave birth to.
In a list
A contest entry
- Skin by Heart Sutra.
1000 points, ended May 6, 2008, 41 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Why Not? by Hebz.
395 points, ended August 24, 2008, 54 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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This's really thought-provoking
Thnx for entering & best of Luck
GloriousGift
Heba -
This is perfect.
Thank you for submitting it.
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"NO! Let them be delivered"...AMEN BROTHER! This is a most wonderful prayer, Marc. I cannot stop reading it over and over..."There is no need to sit in spiritual starvation", Oh, how I love this line! See, now you have me sighing again! Thanks! Peace, Rhonda
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and you have me humbled in your kindness . . .
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Soft alliteration combines with potent metaphor to bring some revelations of soul preservation to the
table. You offer a banquet here of sublime wisdom
with a graceful bow to humanity's intellect on the
whole. Brilliant topic presented with fervor. Blue
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I am impressed. A very strong piece with excellent imagery, metaphor, and some nice alliteration mixed in. The speaker's voice is clear and easily comes through to the mind and the heart of the reader. Some very nice writing worth taking pride in. Thanks for sharing it and all my best to you and yours...
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oh wow...awesome. the metaphors really rock. some places seem a bit wordy.
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Great imagery here. I liked the 'plea' of innocent longings and joyous musing. Well written.
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"let us rediscover the first rose
in the first garden
and ignore the sick skin of the systematic serpent
we unknowingly gave birth to."
Brilliant, my Friend. This is skin we should all slip into, methinks. Good luck in Zayra's contest, dear Scribe. Yep, we need more of ya in this ol' world, alright. 
Swan
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You never fail to satisfy, Full of power and mystery. Such phrasing! Your words are impressionistic brush strokes on this keyboard canvas.
Brilliant as always. -
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You have been most kind whenever you comment on my scribbles and for this I am very appreciative . . . Marc
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Talk about skin...this piece definitely slips right beneath it!
Is has a very cleansing…forgiving feel to it. Transforming our impure thoughts and society into a jewel of indivisible wisdom!
One cannot help but to breathe.
Ovations!
Marianne
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societal skin... I like that. Says it perfectly.
Layered, and perfect for this, hon.
Kathleen
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Cheryl . . . thanks so much for the kind words once again . . . Not sure if it will work for Zayra's contest, but it was fun to write . . . Marc
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Only you dear marc, could find a way to get under society's skin and make it sound as delicate as the softest poem written, yet roar in it's strength to toughen up and see what we have all become. Love, C
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