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Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Law From Below

The Kingdom of Mishrabia©

 

‘Kill,kill,kill

‘yes I will’ says the king

whose will is law.

‘Is it from above

or from below?

‘How the devil will I know?’

 

The quietest place on earth

Must be Mishrabia

Where graves are filled

With dead men who sing:

“Kill,kill,kill,-

“For we know, O king

Your law is from below

How do we know for sure?

Kill, kill kill

The devil has always law

When he wants man below

Than see the face of God

And walk under his law.

 

‘Kill,kill,kill

‘yes I will’ says the king

whose will is law.

‘Is it from above

or from below?

‘How the devil will I know?’

envoi

The devil has his own law

When he wants man below

Than see the face of God

And walk under his law.

benny

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My life is some smoke on the rise

Past the crowded cityscape, and up it goes;

Do I mind the wind’s whimsies?

No more than the trail of soot that I scatter

When all this pother dies down.

benny

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Where man has, alas, ceased to pass the torch,-

For his arched steps have cut the meadows

And play before the motley fools and lure

Widows of their mite to feed an appetite;

Where love itself is sold by giddy glibness

Of mountebanks and is nothing but a habit;

Douse the torch its cold glare is sad tale-

Ne’er shall you rekindle it ,nor lead children of men

To hallowed halls where once virtue stood:

Proud of mien erect on her pedestal

Garlanded and bewitched by men of old,-

It is how the world shall pass

In oblivion and for worms a cold meal.

benny

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“Aeons are wink of time at the center,-

The Sun, the keystone holds right through the sphere;

Entwin’d pillars of fire alternate where

Day and Night stoke all- knowing soul its fire.”

The divine One whose presence was,is and will be is eternal. Where Time and Space is zero: gradations of time and change in place do not make sense. It is like Head and Heart are inseparable. Emotions and Will are interchangeable to make no sense for the divine Will to be coloured. There is no partiality no prejudices.

It is Truth absolute.

What would that mean for his creatures? Art, poetry music that proceed from heart instil in man certain changes so that one might say he is uplifted. Music soothes the savage breast and turns him a man godly as to pacify, as Orpheus did when he descended into the Hades, his base nature. In the divine one the Apollonian and Dionysian elements are perfectly matched.

Man created in the image of the divine One is an individual self contained. His soul is the emblem of the breath of God to be inspired and in turn inspire others. In Hebraic tradition Adam was a living soul since he had in him to choose the best since his faculties were so well refined by the Presence.

In the key quatrain the Sun is a symbol for the Presence and it is the keystone upholding the entire edifice of human achievements. Day and Night are symbols for his visible and inner worlds.(reprinted from The Rubai’yat post of 12/8/2014)

The second edition is now available. Price: Euro 60

For further reading visit: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/bennymkje

benny

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Love is a big word

That we can fit to our sizes;

Love is a slash of Red but in loving

Can make any colour you want;

Love is leanest when cholesterol of

Life demands passage in nagging worrisome

routines,- But love shall find its way;

Love, it is freest when it latches on to another

And my freedom came the day

I found you,

Happy Valentine, love of my life

benny

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My Valentine is a fresh Red Rose,-

Roses, Roses,Roses 

I shall throw in your path

From the couch to the hall,

And beyond;

I shall sweep the yard and gather 

the crushed roses

And give them a fond farewell

Before the trash can is

set out for the van.

Roses, Roses, Roses!

Oh my valentine!

Roses are meant to fade away

But even years after

We shall together remember

This one crazy Valentine spirit

You and I may laugh but

when we smell it e’en in the corners

Of our crumbling home

We shall think it was a fine thing to do

After all. 

benny

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220px-Robert_Louis_Stevenson_Knox_Series

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

ii

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,

And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.

iii

He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;

I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

iv

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

Source: The Golden Book of Poetry (1947)

photocredit-wikipedia/pinterest/lisa abramson-writers

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