Archives for category: good and evil

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                                                A  D  D  I  C  T  I  O  N

 

This demon

Unexorcised, you will find

Deep down in a dungeon behind

Thick locked doors of determination,

In the palace of the mind.

 

There he lies confined

By abstentions chained

By fasts restrained,

With ropes of resolutions we bind

Bolted and padlocked with prayer sublime.

 

Now so shrunk, weakened

That you are led to imagine

He is there no more

But soon he stirs

And you know it is him,

Discreet but alert, calculating,

Disabled but planning

To make you his plaything,

Awaiting his chance

For your mood to swing,

Leaving the  door ajar.

 

Then he creeps out on all fours,

Quickly climbing up your thoughts,

Swinging from their branches

Right into the cockpit of your mind,

Outwitting you he assumes full control,

While  diminished in a slumber. lies the soul.

 

He is now the Master

You his Robot,

He lifts your hand

Towards the prohibited packet

And the bottle you forgot,

The dark drink rises

To thirsty lips,

Your resolution slips

In puffs of smoke.

 

Starved for their content

Which are his only food,

He is now empowered,

He  grows and augments

Feels his power swell

Possessing you.

 

Like when the moon is up and full,

Hairs bristle, talons emerge,

The jaw pulls out painfully,

The serpent eyes dilate,

He is now metamorphosed

Hungry for more, irate,

Full of hulk and bulk.

 

Now Advancing to fever pitch,

lashing his tail about,

Yet another drink, more packs of smoke,

Euphoria, good –

”Well oiled machine” he shouts,

His foot presses the accelerator

His vision narrows menacingly

As the soul shrinks.

 

All encumbrances removed, no hitch

What next, he shrewdly calculates

As you are bewitched

To cross all limits set.

 

His canines are now long and deep

His plaintive squeak becomes a  commanding growl

As he merges with your being

Turning you into his demon

Capable of anything

Hungry for nutrition.

 

One snag though,

‘Alas’ you need rest

The robot suddenly shuts down

Without warning

In automatic mode out of control,

He is caught unawares ,

Sent hurtling back to his dungeon

Even as the soul awakens

To see the havoc wrought

Of dark despair,

Drawing in the healing light

Of deep sleep for repair.

 

But he is far from done

Though disabled

And bides his time,

Will be your companion

Through many life times,

Joint inhabitant with the soul,

Till he is finally overcome

And exorcised,

As your demon you confront.

 

Then its journey done

The soul returns

To where it begun.

 

 Credit: wikipedia.com

Credit: wikipedia.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Credit: goodfon.com

Credit: goodfon.com

 

No one is born perfect. Imperfections trail the best of us as do our shadows. Those without imperfections exist in other realms not needing to be born here.Even sages and seers who inspire us cast their ego shadows as the bright sun of our physical world glows furiously. Each imperfection reminds us why we are here. This is the great laundry, the giant washing machine. Our bodies are the garments whose indelible stains are sent back time and again for cleansing. the shining Self then dons it for another life time of energetic washing.

Some garments are spotted red with incredible anger. Another is green with envy and avarice. Yet another has obsessive yellow addictions for substance and sex. Others are purple with arrogance and pride. There are shades of grey growing darker with greed and gluttony. Shades of blue are in depression and restless dissatisfaction. Ignorance and confusion are painted in black. Deception and falsehood are silver. Every imaginable shade and colour painted by ego, fear and urge for the false security of acquisition and possession. A radiant white shroud  also awaits the soul that has no need for garment and apparel but which it nevertheless dons to become the washerman, blazing a trail for cleaning.

I offer my poem which seeks to show that while here we must reconcile ourselves to being fallible bodies attached to radiant spirits, for when the garment is totally cleaned, it will be cast away for good.

 

                 W E     T O G E T H E R

 

Facets of myself

Reminding of some genetic impropriety

I must not inherit, I disown

As enemy.

 

Facets I own

And love, espouse, protect,

Good looks, graces

Mental energy and prowess

Are friend.

 

But we move together,

Fungus and host

Conjoined,wanted

And unwanted entities,

Inextricable.

 

I know, like when I tried

From my pet fish

To peel off its fungal growth,

That peeling will kill,

That you are whole,

 indivisible.

 

Yet I abhor my spots,

Wish to extend my chin,

Cannot countenance

My inabilities, cowardice,

Or love my guilt.

 

So I compromise

As we rise together;

The shining self

Amid the shadows of the negative.

Across My Heart

His Word is Written Across My Heart

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