Tag Archives: Samsara

“Pills: a Modern Fable”

by Paul Burgess […a poem on the tendency to treat symptoms rather can causes and to escape pain rather than deal with it]

One day while walking through the nearby hills,
I came across a lady selling pills.
She said to take her tablets twice a day,
And troubles would all start to melt away.
The pills provided such a soaring high
That I returned to buy a new supply.
But where she’d been I heard no human sound,
And nothing of that lady was there found.
Along with waves of troubles flooding back,
I count among my woes those pills I lack.

 

“To Anxiety” [Complete; parts 1-3]

In response to the following prompt: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/writing-101-day-four/ [Since I rarely write anything so personal or serious, I would genuinely appreciate constructive feedback.]

A  3-part letter in blank verse [unrhymed iambic pentameter]

Pt. I
Although I’ve spent a lot of time with you,
And you would often hold me, stand by me,
Remain with me in best and worst of times—
To starve equanimity while feeding fear
With nourishment required by peace’s roots—
Your frequent recent absences bring no tears
To eyes no longer clouded by your breath’s
Impenetrable, nauseating fog.

Pt. II
I never could escape when trying to flee.
To struggle only tightened boa-like
Embraces slowly piercing heart with bones.
Exhausted and resigned to dying in your grip,
I ceased to claw, to scratch, to push away—
No more diversion, dreaming, fear, or hope.
Observing, only watching, touching you,
I saw your face more clearly than before.

Pt. III
The wave of panic darkening your eyes
Expressed your fear; you knew what I had grasped.
Though coiled around your nearly vanquished prey,
Without my help, your strength began to wane.
You’d only grown so strong because I’d fed you;
I was entangled because I’d pulled the knots.
You let me go because I let you go.
On future visits, bring your food or starve.

“Anxiety” Pt. III

In response to the following prompt: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/writing-101-day-four/ [Since I rarely write anything so personal or serious, I would genuinely appreciate constructive feedback.]

You will find the first part here: https://paulwhitberg.wordpress.com/2014/06/05/anxiety-pt-i/

and the second part herehttps://paulwhitberg.wordpress.com/2014/06/06/anxiety-pt-ii/

“[To} Anxiety” Pt. III

The wave of panic darkening your eyes
Expressed your fear; you knew what I had grasped.
Though coiled around your nearly vanquished prey,
Without my help, your strength began to wane.
You’d only grown so strong because I’d fed you;
I was entangled because I’d pulled the knots.
You let me go because I let you go.
On future visits, bring your food or starve.

“Anxiety” Pt. II

In response to the following prompt: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/writing-101-day-four/ [Since I rarely write anything so personal or serious, I would genuinely appreciate constructive feedback.]

You will find the first part here: https://paulwhitberg.wordpress.com/2014/06/05/anxiety-pt-i/

“[To} Anxiety” Pt. II

I never could escape when trying to flee.
To struggle only tightened boa-like
Embraces slowly piercing heart with bones.
Exhausted and resigned to dying in your grip,
I ceased to claw, to scratch, to push away—
No more diversion, dreaming, fear, or hope.
Observing, only watching, touching you,
I saw your face more clearly than before.

“Liberation” (or “Sayonara to Samsara”) [Revised]

In response to mistermuse’s advice, I have decided to revise this poem.

 

If you would take a closer, deeper look,
You’d know that bait conceals a rusty hook.
The words of Siren songs that plagued your youth
Do not communicate objective truth.
Like shadows, on the walls, that seem to play,
Deprived of light, they’re forced to go away.

“Liberation” (or “Sayonara to Samsara”)

by Paul Burgess–The more I read this poem, the more I think I should cut out all but the final 6 or 4 lines. Any suggestions or feedback would be welcome:)

The poem:

A chain’s no good because no chain we make
Will ever be too strong for us to break.
The answer’s not to practice more restraint
Or cover holes with glossy coats of paint.

Suppressing only hides from us the foes
That would be safer for us to expose.
The vine will strangle, given chance to feed,
But you can stop its growth while it’s a seed.

If you would take a closer, deeper look,
You’d know that bait conceals a rusty hook.
The words of Siren songs that plagued your youth
Do not communicate objective truth.
Like shadows, on the walls, that seem to play,
Deprived of light, they’re forced to go away.