Tag Archives: silence

The Kingdom without a King

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I have heard there is a place where broken hearts need no mending—and it waits for us all.

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I have heard there is a kingdom buried deep,

far away from this chaos and the mayhem

I have heard it can be found if your faith takes a leap,

but not by those who are hateful or who condemn

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I have heard that it is so peaceful down below,

silence is a tranquil lake with no dark murmurs

I have heard there is no ego there, high or low,

life is no longer a battle, no losers and no learners

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I have heard that there is comfort in its darkness,

no sudden challenge, or no opportunity to be won

I have heard there is just serenity, and no harshness,

there’s no curtain to be dropped, and your roles are done

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I have heard love is a wraith there, forgotten forever,

your broken heart needs no more solace, no mending

I have heard all are equal there, the fools and the clever,

the fire inside is all put out; it needs no more tending

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I have heard the kingdom is without a king,

the last refuge for all the tired and broken souls

I have heard the admission needs no magical ring,

you step across the threshold, and the drum rolls

Anger & Silence

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Introduction

A contemplative poem featuring an old monk under an oak tree who explores the profound relationship between anger and silence through a series of striking metaphors. This meditative verse contrasts the destructive chaos of anger with the transformative power of silence, presenting them as mother and child, thunder and rain, sword and force. The poem delves into Buddhist philosophy and mindfulness teachings, examining how anger represents momentary experience while silence embodies lasting wisdom.

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Under a Banyan tree, an old monk sat,

his life - cool shade and a bamboo mat

Eyes were closed, and his heart so still,

oblivious to pain and sharp n’ harsh chill

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‘Anger is the wind,’ he muttered to himself,

‘whispering in the trees, calming down itself

Anger is the mother, and silence is the child,

a fiery dragon and her offspring, so mild’

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‘Anger is scalding chaos, silence brings order,

chaos and order - there is only a vague border

Anger is the thunder, silence is the rain,

anger is so loud while silence stills the pain’

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‘Anger is a sword, while silence is a force,

violence and the power, the ego is the source

Anger is a hammer, while silence is patience,

anger is so bold, while silence brings complacence’

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‘Anger is a curse, while silence is a blessing,

what is true and what is not, there is no harm confessing

Anger is a burden, while silence is a treasure,

shedding and protecting, both beyond measure’

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‘Anger is experience, silence is the wisdom,

anger is a moment, while silence is a kingdom

Anger lights the blaze, silence is the smoke,

knowing is the product, wrapped in a cloak’

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‘Your time has ended, now leave me all alone!’

the monk addresses anger and marks it in the stone

‘Silence has begun - its reign feels so cold,

along comes the knowledge - so cruel and so bold’

The Custodian of Unfulfilled Dreams

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A kingdom where broken dreams go to die—and a king who refuses to abandon them.

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Far away from all this filth and all this stinking mold,

there is a secret and silent realm of unfulfilled dreams

The realm is colorless, neither silver nor purple nor gold,

no laughter or singing, just a chaos of cries and screams

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Each dream, once it’s shattered, and in pain it cries,

it enters the realm, hearing some command unspoken

The horn of time does not blow; it is silent and so wise,

as the dreams lay trampled, crying and utterly broken

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There he sits at the gate, the old and tattered King,

the sad custodian of dreams, he protects and lovingly guards

He has neither a throne, nor a seal, nor a royal ring,

he wears only a crown of thorns and sharp glass shards

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The dreams are his children, a few are even his very own,

he cradles their delicate heads and lovingly treats their sores

Some dreams have broken wings, and some have never flown,

yet he loves them all, whether they are his own, mine, or yours

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The King has tears in his eyes; he cries over the wounded dreams,

he knows they are going to finally die, his efforts are all in vain

The dreams whimper as life bleeds out, in rivulets and in streams,

the King knows they are the last drops of a rare desert rain

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Each dream, when it breathes its very last and silently dies,

he gently kisses its dead eyes, singing the last lullaby

The King is sad, oh, he is so very sad, but still he desperately tries,

caring for dreams, without asking ‘to what end’ or even a ‘why’

Once I wanted to be immortal

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A haunting journey from the hunger for immortality to the longing for silence.

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Once I wanted to be immortal;

experience each pleasure that life was offering,

and live each dream, my imagination was proffering

But then I saw, and then I observed,

each pleasure came with regret and too much pain,

that dreams were a loss, and not really a gain

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Once I wanted to be immortal;

live each day with laughter, my heart brimming with joy,

and love the whole world, its beauty, and its clever ploy

But then I saw, and then I observed,

all joy was fake, and happiness was only opium,

that love was a farce, enacted from an egoistic podium

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Once I wanted to be immortal;

experience all my wisdom could understand and reach,

learn all the lessons that life could ever teach

But too many years have passed, and I have grown up;

now I just want to fade away and dissolve without a trace,

and sleep a blissful sleep, far beyond this time and space

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Now, every trace of my presence, I just want to erase,

the glory is all gone, and extinguished is the blaze

Now, I just want to find a way out of this fucking maze,

I just want to get out, without any kudos, without any praise

Go where there is no more me, no desires or ambition,

where all is always silent, the realm of the Great Magician