Sunday, November 30, 2008


If you could see you
Trough my eyes
Instead of your ego
I believe you'd be
Surprised to see
That you've been blind...

So unless you
Lived your life
Of total perfection
You gotta be careful
Of every stone
That you should throw

Walk a mile in my shoes
And before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Walk a mile in my shoes




Someone waits for me
Just beyond the sunset
Lies my destiny
Where the purple mountains
Lie in deep tranquillity
There I’ll find the treasure
Of love eternally Just beyond the sunset
Lies a home for me
Where the world is peaceful
Like a paradise should be
Just beyond the sunset
Someday is where you’ll find me

David Harris


Towards light


The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead
In summer luxury,--he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

Keats

"A man who moves with the earth will necessarily experience days and nights. He who stays with the sun will know no darkness"

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The mystic beast within us


The dark shore rises
like the back of a mystic beast
curved, straining, swallowing
mouthfuls of ocean so that
the waves might move its tongue
to speak. Rocks rumble low,
groaning the stories of their birth, admitting
in the secrecy of low light
that they'd rather be sunk back
into the belly
of the world.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

"Lets walk.. far , far away, until we find home"


Gone




"And the man in the rain picked up his bag of secrets, and journeyed up the mountainside, far above the clouds, and nothing was ever heard from him again, except for the sound of... Tu-bu-lar Bells.”


Tubular Bells III Mike Oldfield

Right here yet


so go on and scream
scream at me i'm so far away
i won't be broken again
i've got to breathe i can't keep going under

This is the current fashion in universes. Expanding at the hemline in all directions and heavily embroidered with dark matter.


Sunday, November 23, 2008


Much darker


Heaven and earth are not what you think, they are darker


You cannot split the earth by drawing boundaries on it - Tukaram


The earth seen from the inside out..Looking into space from her core

Strange Time



The needle is expertly
Jabbed into the vein ;
The innermost stranger
Wakes up again .
My mask has fallen
,It grins at me ;
I go out forever
On a faceless spree
.In a milder light
And a colder sun ,
Absent minded ,
I reach for the gun .
A whole country
Is vanishing now ;
What's left of love
Is my own forehead .
The skull's architecture
And the fading formation
Of reticular frescoes
I bequeath to you .
I bequeath to you
My fossil and my dossier .
And I join the saints
'Immortal choir .
Tukaram in heaven ,
Chitre in hell ,
Sing the same song
Centuries apart .
Their bone derives
From the same stone
That stands erect at Pandharpur
In the shape of a God.
Both gentle and rude
And always
Unmoved .
The river flows by
Like so many people ,
While this stance
By itself isA spire
And a steeple .
History is dust
In this kind of summer .
The heat is
The lasting truth .
Man spreads
His own rumor
In the form of God
To seize a creation .
Not his own .
This kind of summer
Is the brain's
Own blaze .
It is Vitthala
Who creates
Sun and rain ;
Tukaram's joy
And Chitre's pain
Are two faces
Of the same coin
Counterfeit and divine .
The sovereign currency
Of generations
Standing
In the same plain .
Let us speak of God
Since man cannot be spoken of :
Let us infer from the image in stone
The mind , the hand , the chisel , the stroke .
For the Lord is infinite
Sleep from which we wake
And , in the grinning granite ,
We carve Him out of the night.
Into this muscles
We invest our souls ;
For his heart is of stone ,
His heartbeat our own .
Our voices are hoarse with God :
He is our scream , our cry , our moan ,
Tukaram in heaven , Chitre in hell ,
Turned to the same truth , centuries apart .
They dance in the same place
And celebrate
Sameness
As the only art
Our voice is a village
You have never visited ,
Where God livesIn silent huts .
You have not seen
His million faces ;For God resides
In uncivilized places .
He is the hunger ,
And he is the food ;
He is the grain ,
The only good .
God is crushed ,
God is ground ,
So thoroughly milled
That He's never found .
He is all we have
From harvests to famines ;
It is Him we praise ,
And Him we curse .
He is our neighbour ,
He is our enemy ;
He is our ruler ,
And He is our destiny .
He is our slave ,
He is our landlord ;
But for our sword
He'd hardly be brave .
God is our village
Idiot and sage ;
He is our convict
And our judge .
Him we worship ,
Whom we whip ;
On bent knees ,
It's him we beat .
He is our sinner ,
He is our saint ;
We begin in Him ,
In Him we end .
Come back pock-marked poets ,
Join Tukaram and Chitre ,
For the song of heavenIs one helluva chant .
Ask and you shall be refused ;
But do not leave
Your voice unused .
It's all you' ve got .
Remember , our best
Poems were always
As bald as facts ,
As bare as hills .
Because our spirit
Has aspects of stone ,
And because our stones
Are lasting mirrors.

Thursday, November 20, 2008




Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune telling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of notre dame
everybody is making love
or else expecting in rain
And the good samaritan he´s dressing
he´s getting ready for the show
He´s going to the carnival
tonight on Desolation Row.

Not Dark Yet


Shadows are falling and I've been here all day
It's too hot to sleep time is running away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there

Tommorow will arrive as we thrive


then take me disappearing through
the smoke rings of my mind
down the foggy ruins of time,
far past the frozen leaves
the haunted, frightened trees,
out to the windy beach
far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky
with one hand waving free
silhouetted by the sea,
circled by the circus sands
with all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
let me forget about
today until tomorrow.



"mr. tambourine man,"by bob dylan.

Dylan- Daling


of war and peace
the truth just twist
sits curfew gull it glides
upon four-legged forest clouds
the cowboy angel rides
with his candle lit into the sun
although its glow is waxed in black
all except when beneath the trees of eden

How long have i been in the storm


I was burned out from exhaustion,
buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
"Come in," she said,"I'll give you shelter from the storm."- Bob Dylan


(A 9/11 inspiration - and to all who demonstrate strength, courage and support in the face of adversity)

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Thureon


if you were a vision of intact alchemy,
i would've let you pass and in my
stormy realm of insanity
to compare dimensions...

if you were a ray of infinite knowledge
i would've let you explode through
the iris of my being
and make a canvas out of it.

if you were a second, a moment,
a morsel of time,
i would've captured you as a vessel
of infinite memory.

if you were a molecule of oxygen,
of air,a quiet breeze,
i would've breathe you in and
let you become a part of my legend.

if you were the question,
i'd be the answer.

Burma Bleeds


"...The force of Nature turns its hand –The Indian Ocean takes the land.Sun beds, umbrellas ride the seas;Bodies abandoned in the trees;For half a mile and more, inland,It crushes all, naught can withstand.For many millions, sad lament,Their homes now driftwood, ‘fore it’s spent..."

Before the storm


I walk through windy silence,
a humming blade of grass whispering the secret of the eternal.
She needs… no, wants me to know what lies beyond the void.
And I, safe within my ignorance, continue to gaze.

Suddenly Dawns upon one


Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn!
Look to this Day!
For it is Life, the very Life of Life.
In its brief course lie all the Verities and
Realities of your Existence.
The Bliss of Growth,
The Glory of Action,
The Splendor of Beauty;
For Yesterday is but a Dream,
And To-morrow is only a Vision;
But To-day well lived makes
Every Yesterday a
Dream of Happiness,
And every Tomorrow a Vision of Hope.
Look well therefore to this Day!
Such is the Salutation of the Dawn!

poem by~Kalidasa

The magician of ujjain


AUTUMN
by: Kalidasa (c. 500)

THE autumn comes, a maiden fair
In slenderness and grace,
With nodding rice-stems in her hair
And lilies in her face.
In flowers of grasses she is clad;
And as she moves along,
Birds greet her with their cooing glad
Like bracelets' tinkling song.

A diadem adorns the night
Of multitudinous stars;
Her silken robe is white moonlight,
Set free from cloudy bars;
And on her face (the radiant moon)
Bewitching smiles are shown:
She seems a slender maid, who soon
Will be a woman grown.

Over the rice-fields, laden plants
Are shivering to the breeze;
While in his brisk caresses dance
The blossomed-burdened trees;
He ruffles every lily-pond
Where blossoms kiss and part,
And stirs with lover's fancies fond
The young man's eager heart.

" You are like a hurricane, theres warmth in your eyes"


Sunday, November 16, 2008

Will n Deed


We always get what our deep driving desire is,
as desire will be our deed
and as deed our will
and as our will.. will be our destiny.

"The wise know, the hook is baited"