Tuesday, 24 November 2015

The idiosyncratic me

I found the culprit;
a misty fog like thing
spreading all over, cunningly—ME,
ME, the master.
It is invisible, and enchanting;
it is the opium fume
covering consciousness, identity.
It needs costumes; acquired, forced, anything,
it grabs anything to hide behind,
for once caught the soul will shine
and laugh out loud at all idiosyncrasies of ME,
of men, women, family, society, nations, and the world.

A very simple, shining reality
like the clear water singing over polished pebbles;
like the huge tree sheltering worms, insects, birds
and bearing fruits for generations;
like a breeze touching all and sundry with no exception;
I am giving up all that ME needs to hide,
to know the spirit of wings, clouds, universe
and ultimately water, ocean and soil
to know the fire of the soul.

I have found the culprit;
A misty fog like thing
Spreading all over, cunningly—ME,
ME, the master;
without it peace prevails!

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Drink in!

A white flower unfolding;
The whole round earth glows!

Two open eyes glow,
The white flower unfolds again;
With a million layers of petals
With fire within;
Seek it, drink it!

Tuesday, 22 September 2015


Night, like serpentine illusions of bygone days,
like misguided perceptions of love and hate,
like mirage visions of kinship and bloodline
wrapping the eyes in thick darkness,

the mind returns to soul,
a yellow glowing flower …
"flood me like a lone streetlight amongst the darkness"

wings that were wrapped around in
habits of silence and smiling;
a shade to rest, but shade like shadow
a shadow around one's existence,

heart makes the simplest things so damn complicated,
one high pitch truth and many fake sounds died;
spread the wings, a sky in wait,

the fluidity of your presence like
the meaning of existence
like my invisible wings of truth;
as in the womb, I dream light, a yellow glowing light ... .

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Friday, 18 September 2015


It’s stiff and hard... knotted
to each other, tight knots,
I try with my nails that are cut
in a slightly curved line,
cut close to the flesh--
I regret cutting my nails--
they are bloody treacherous knots;
I have never learned the fine art
of keeping long sharp nails
I have never tried chewing hard things
and too much brushing off of dirt
has left the teeth a bit less of enamel
I regret keeping my mouth so clean
and teeth so tender
for so long periods of time,
slowly, surely they have tied my hands
in treacherous knots--
when you grow, grow wild
with longer nails, stronger teeth
and fiery eyes and elfin charms;
for the art of living should make the soul
 an eagle and a bird of paradise too,
to taste the wine of life—
so stay calm my soul, until I learn,
learn the art of performance
for the knots of general perceptions
and conceptions are always treacherous.

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Adieu watchman!

Have you ever seen ego walking in?
You always keep your lamp so high
Watching things coming from far
But they are creepers from nearby

Have you watched thorns of attachment?
They get in so easily with your cloths and slippers
Your watchful eyes, they keep thieves away
But I don’t keep treasures any more
I have dispersed my belongings

You can leave me, I don’t need watchful eyes
I don’t need your warnings any more
I have given my thoughts to the sun
Let them burn and be pure
I have given my emotions to clouds
Let them rain and seep into the earth’s core
To rise up high rich and pure
And no more treasure is left here to guard

You can walk to palaces and castles
Where people are scared to talk out loud
Watch for them, their secrets and treasures
and their pillars from withering.