Blatant Blares!

💫✨ 🧡🦢🦢🦢🧡 ✨💫

©✍️ Madhu Goteti ,July 6,2023

I have been a Nobody’s fool for everybody’s rule. And Look ! I don’t want to draw out on any pattern printing and say: “O ! Lo! Behold! I am holding this mirror and look —This is where I was lost and this is where I was found with a singularity of purpose riding over me.” Through the realms of existence affixed —as in, past, present and future’s defense, here I am. Yet, as I work thro’ my essence in presence, I feel centered in embracing this gift of life as though it was a cosmic descent🙏. It’s much like the bargain of golden grace that guards me to be rarified under this hiatus of history which repeats itself and never ends. And in all this the alchemical reality for me is that All world’s a stage and a bit of everything exists in it’s sheer cognizance to the other. Further to that, the fundamental notion that marks my psyche is that I see —I in thee ; thee in me; fitted more than enough to resonate me with thee ,and likewise, thee with me.

How did this happen 🫣?! You may wonder. 😱

Well, nothing happens until it really happens🙄. And might I say , drawing back from the eternal , everything gradually becomes adjudicated to me and my presence. The agony of being connected to everything was a destiny that I was bound to, ever since the genesis of the many births and rebirths witnessed by me. In ways, I have sensed my way to harbor the universe or be mulled by it. And then, at times, I have felt uncharted ( as in a void,) and felt big enough from the perspective of cosmic timescales, and at other times, I felt small enough to be touched by each and every thing. All this is most importantly—as in, it’s contrived significance, relevant enough in defining me.Burgeoning and blossoming amidst such fields of inceptions, I feel my spirited mind transgresses over mindfulness, as if meaning is making itself visible to the core of my existence. And, not to mention , the juggle between existential fallacies and the paradoxes that await me every step of the way. Brutally so, my inner bigot conflates with the inner core and refashions in it, more and more. Call this, destiny playing it’s joke on me ,or better yet, it’s good luck losing its flinch on me, I have no regrets to abhor. Life has always pounced at me to steal me ,from me, often to direct me from being found to the rest, in lure. So, nebulous as a cloud ☁️ and ludicrous in ways, I have lingered in Mother Nature’s behests since yore. My countenance is unattached and my wanderings may seem aimless, yet I believe, I truly exist, in the drifting formlessness of evermore.

It’s like I am the past that was erased first, then I became the present, to be gotten erased next , and then, forthwith, I progress into future that doesn’t even exist yet !

It’s been like all my cares and efforts play up in the realms of this cyclical world ;with nowhere to end and everywhere to begin; time and again, moving towards nothingness of this ephemeral conquest called destiny. It’s not like I arrive somewhere discretely in permanence, it’s definitely,more like, how I lose myself in the various ways. So, being here and there means that I am regenerating in a forward motion while simultaneously gazing back with the hope that it makes sense to you and me, in the end. But unbelievably and admittedly so, this life seems to be having no beginning nor no end to me. Eternal as it seems , I seem to be drifting towards the nothingness of infinity.

For so long and all along, I seem to be stewing in this addictive conformance of a grit, graciously saving me from being lost, yet floating more so naturally to be now, here , there and everywhere to descend and /or rescind, congruously. And to that extent , my fatal fate has made me look like a jocular juggernaut , engaging with here and now, in total resonance, quite conscientiously ,and thence to chant om 🕉️ spiritually!

But seeing myself through the backward gaze of a past life,” certainly—puts me in a “Jester,” mode . A form wherein, I see myself jigging it up on a theatrical stage of an Elizabethan Era.

Yes, this plight, hangs before me. I see myself emerging as a laborer at a farm, awoke in the morning , with a half written note in praise of this literary friend. Right there, straight down, I see myself praising his ludicrous versatility , so to say,as I describe my friend’s Blatant Blares! in the following lines.

Yes, I am seeing myself etching this poem , in this regression of past life reminiscence. I dare to declare such

Blatant blares and choose to share these internal proclivities that bear a (stark)resemblance with: Who else?!

Shakespeare!

And perhaps in those troubling times I was seeking the counsel of his company —as I wrote these verses like this, in despair …

 Here I go …trancing and prancing .. to make these words —manifest themselves, and accordingly unleash them as a d’ œuvre of his persona , such so, in airy blares !

Scowly- Howly Burlesque Cavalier,

Who speaks in a passion, so deeply rare ?!

Villiago, Rampallian, Lecherous Lair!

Who else?! This is, my very own friend-Shakespeare!

 Let me begin with something he shares,

Nonce words umpteen so solemnly paired ,

And yet like a punctual want,

Oh! so duly , solemnly declared,

He sanctions those clinches in greets so burlesquely aired,

 That to which,his speech speaks on and on ;

Meeting singes on doldrums here and there,

Making appearances everywhere

Oh look ! Over There, you have him now, and there in a moment’s fleets, he disappears, elsewhere !

Perhaps, with all those bearings, he’s quite so, ‘meticulously rare !

For in his vexes; a cov'nant vanquishes,

Most exalted in those weepy tears

O! Look there , Look there !

My poor soul hangs on , no breath

so very so , lying in those ditches of dreary despairs,

And while his gab meets gabbles; and goes on so, as it appears,

As though , a canopy o’er hanging in ephemeral spheres…

Do you see this , do you see this !

It’s like I came, I saw and conquered all seven seas unawares !

And incidentally,

't was , Recklessly addressing, all in fairness, with abso' no cares

O! Such springing splendors, oft on fancy, whereupon his name simply appeared

Spewing as some valor; and scoffing blotches o'er,

There comes his unbidden darkling care

With whom stream invectives, extending over rapidly,

In bards so crisp and lo! so crystal clear!

Thence , railing out as some blatant motley's callings,

I play with him —this game of truth or dare, truth or dare

Concealed in verses, as much conviction, unfurling out , here and there , yes—everywhere

And as a worthiest thing that ever was, and that was e’er said so, '” O horror, horror, horror ,” as in plots of King Lear;

O! undo this button: thank you sir.

Do you see this? Look, I shall ever be in there!"

 And justly upon those unfathomable words,

I remain, as a jocund , immersed in it, totally there,

Amidst thy genius, dwelling in so, humorously there

Spewing in slanders, where none ever reaches,

Then , he slams me out --shining, an insult, so loud , so blatantly clear

There’s—Much virtue in it , methinks, as tones in lyres, laid stern on those spheres

That, it was ,as it ought to be, in those dawned days counsel : “ to be or not to be, “ as a poor poet

standing in thy glory that stands beyond compare!

 Still spoken thro' expressions, in mentions as no mentions, those worldly woes are still borne by me, in duly cares!

As thrice thrown honors, beholding much in form, as a fine gentry, as his imagination gives up in this air!

Those words all carved up, all fully charged, to mark up muted destinies, in the mayhems so declared..

Then, as offense in defense, affronting scurrility, all at once, he muses out, instantly thro’ me , right over here

Therein, set forth in guffaws and logics, tickling all minds, for a startling stare, here or there

Ah! those naughty insults as nasty dares ,classically combined, as some keenly- consorted- holy-prayer!

That, in which, his majesty reigns, one bard pitching to the others’ bawdry service,

All in hitching, for some odious heir!

O! for the full breath to utter ,what is like thee--to be nick named as : “Mongrel-Breeding-Bugbear”

O! there he goes voicing those woes

In , perhaps, one full and final flair!

As a man echoing, and long enough reigning

Thou hast ! Caught those fathom glories, in those Blatant blares....

Who else?! This An alter ego of Shakespeare —tuning to contend —the poor poetry and hoping eternal to fit in those thoughts — everywhere

So meaningfully so, I see myself lying in the lap of poverty, tugging at a kerchief, flagging the winds, as my contumacious garment, obstinately threatens to disappear! Yes , that was a life between many lives. And I admit I was there !

And here’s the sum of it’s substance unfolding in a muse to renew energy, purpose and wisdom, right now, right here !

To a Life so loaned to other grounds

A Rare Devotion, on which - relentless- is found...

For it's just once... only once, thro life's door -antiquity is gone

Beholding humanity's substance to all sums, all around!

‘Coz it’s Renaissance, ever lost and ever found!

Connected with each souls’ present,

And directed by energies of past and future,

Those synergies shall forever—bond and unbound !