Saturday, November 29, 2014

Soul poem IV..........the Brahman...is dead


Love ..is a faint voice...
almost like a child..
in womb....mostly felt and 
mostly unseen  
yet filling the existence 
of a woman.....and of a man, is unknown
yet ..as of now ..
the search is on 
for the cosmos and the feminine...

Time...moves
in leaps ....over the mountains..
sometimes as clouds...sometimes as thick fog
time is truth..they say..
and truth is space...they say
but space is every where..
inside you ..inside me
yet...as of now
the search is on
for the space....where truth is spoken...here and now.

The Brahman 
is dead...so are the sacred threads
and the beads
and the chants
and all the strings....
attached and those devoid...
can be consumed...by yellow and red  and blue .. flames
yet as of now,
the search is on ...
for the fire ...for the sublimation 
of existence

The Brahman....
is dead....the cosmic recluse 
is .... everywhere indeed...
birth never created  him
 death cant  undo her......Dance.....my love
in insane ..sanity
Drink.......my zoya
all the sorrows ....
of all the lives...
and sing ..
in your own voice
your own song 
..in your own way..
liberation..is here...and now
yet as of now..the search is on ...
for ....a lullaby








the phrase 'Brahman is interchangeably used here to denote the birth ..in a caste.....and as in 'the self -Atman'. Unless the birth order dies ,,,the 'other order' does not emerge .....the other 'order' is a spiritual path if one may say so...for no one knows what liberation means....to the liberated....and the liberated..can only say so in comparison to his or her erstwhile state. This is the last of the soul poems series... my dialogue with Zoya continues...as love , as the feminine, and as life itself ,
SHE ...fails to wither away...and I m not a  whiner.







http://www.mandalas.com/mandala/htdocs/FlowerGallery/LotusPond2.php





Sunday, May 04, 2014

GABO..............and .....me

It is ... unimaginable
Gabo is dead.... or aleast the world says so
R I P. Gabo . they say...or atleast they  think so...

 I dont know Gabo....I know "Garcia" ....
I know ...one hundred years of solitude... ended flat in 24 hrs with four packs of navy cut....and the learning began...and life opened up ... in layers....

Be true .. he said .. to me.. in meditative trance....in love ...
Feel free to tell it... to the ones you love....
feel no shame to fall in love and feel no shame when you fall out of it....
all you need to be is true...

Life is a magic ....he said.....
some of it is lived.....but most of it is not even experienced..
live ..as though its real.. live as though its magic

Between Magical realness and real magic somewhere he said 
is the child... in you...
Don't let it die...

Nothing was left unobserved by him ...love... life... wars.. dreams...
'they didn't even bother to close his eyes'' he said...
poignant ...humane...Che was never more revered

If  freedom was pain .... if life was a  indeed real .....if liberation was a dream .. 
if tango was a  dance ......and relationships were lived ......if I would be born all over  again  and even if it were to be with a pig tail ..I would  find the solitude again.....Those ... 24 hrs....were cut for.. this very  God...

in many ways .. at many times....life imitates.....Garcia...
and now he they say
he is dead..

it just sucks...
this death......its all over the place...
and for once..
appears real