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Manas Madrecha Jun 2015
English Transliteration - Satya Sarvopari Sarvaat

Jhoot bolna aam ** gaya, par mahimaa satya ki kam naa aanknaa,
Bheetar ki naitiktaa ko, vivek-nayan se zaroor jhaank naa...

Man aur vani ki akhandta, vibhakt ** ne naa denaa,
Jhoot par avalambit **, swa-nistha khone naa denaa...

Kapat aacharan ko apnakar, aarthik sukh hi paaoge,
Sabal charitra banaa lo gar, toh nityaanand tak jaaoge...

Vani par jiske satya sadaa, vachan shakti siddh hogi,
Mukh se upji har shabdaavali, vaastav mein sanghatit hogi...

Abhisandhi ka gar karo prayog, jo logo ko sambhramit kare,
Toh unki nahi, tumhaari mithya, jo aatm ko hi dooshit kare...

Jab jab kanth kare dhwani, prajwalit ** satyajyoti se har baat,
Jhoot gaun samaksh uske, satya sarvopari sarvaat...

- - - - -

English Translation - Truth is above everything

Speaking lies have become common, but don't underestimate the significance of Truth,
Do peep into your inner morality through the eyes of conscience...

Do not let the integrity of Mind & Speech be dissected,
By adhering onto fallacy, do not let your self morale be lost...

By embracing fraudulent behavior, you will only get monetary pleasure,
But if you build a brawny (strong) Character, you will go till Eternal Happiness (Salvation) ...

The one who always has Truth on his Speech, the force of oration will become effectual,
Every vocabulary out from his mouth, will constitute into Reality...

If you do use deceit, for misapprehending the people,
Then the illusion is not theirs, but yours, for it pollutes your own self...

When ever the throat makes sound, let every talk be illuminated with the light of Truth,
Lie is inferior in front of it, Truth is above every thing...

- - - - -

Original Poem - सत्य सर्वोपरि सर्वात्

झूठ बोलना आम हो गया, पर महिमा सत्य की कम ना आंकना।
भीतर की नैतिकता को, विवेक-नयन से ज़रूर झांकना।।

मन और वाणी की अखंडता, विभक्त होने ना देना।
झूठ पर अवलंबित हो, स्वनिष्ठा खोने ना देना।।

कपट आचरण को अपनाकर, आर्थिक सुख ही पाओगे।
सबल चरित्र बना लो गर, तो नित्यानंद तक जाओगे।।

वाणी पर जिसके सत्य सदा, वचन-शक्ति सिद्ध होगी।
मुख से उपजी हर शब्दावली, वास्तव में संघटित होगी।।

अभिसंधि का गर करो प्रयोग, जो लोगो को संभ्रमित करे।
तो उनकी नहीं, तुम्हारी मिथ्या, जो आत्म को ही दूषित करे।।

जब जब कंठ करे ध्वनि, प्रज्वलित हो सत्यज्योति से बात।
झूठ गौण समक्ष उसके, सत्य सर्वोपरि सर्वात्।।

© Poem by Manas Madrecha
This poem was first published on the blog 'Simplifying Universe'
(http://www.simplifyinguniverse.blogspot.com) in May, 2015.
The They Dec 2011
New breath fills her lungs with the air of a world that does not know her.
So quietly does she lie in her mothers' arms:
A new light that shines on the earth today,
Bright with a peaceful radiance so wanting in the world.
Filled with the grace of  purity she stepped into our lives,
Ready to teach her lesson to those who would join her in tranquility:
So prepared to bare life's mantle, she greeted the world with a quiet sigh
Of one who understood its noise and hustle, but quietly smiled with wise eyes.



Oh Satya live up to your name
Your mothers have given you with great insight!
That you might show all the world your love
And that we might learn from your power and your light.
A birth and a death (see my poem Solace) in two days! Satya means truthfulness in sanskrit.
Rama Krsna Apr 2019
exacting in love
possessive by nature
volatile in temperament
and raging like flames
you are wild and untamed

nothing like docile padma!

the strategic placement
of each kiss on
your voluptuous body
you so unashamedly demand
is provocatively seductive

drawing out
from deep within the soul
of this simple flute-playing cowherd
a brazen but besotted lover


© 2019
padma: see my poem padma
RAJ NANDY Nov 2014
Friends, in the Introductory portion we have seen how Herodotus
gave birth to the subject of 'History'. Now I conclude this true story
by quoting a poem by the English poet Edgar O' Shaughnessy, which
is very appropriate for my Story! Please take your time to read, there is no hurry! Thanks, -Raj Nandy.

        HISTORIANS  AFTER  HERODOTUS
Herodotus became the trail blazer with his narration
of History,
Inspiring several Greek and Roman chroniclers as  
we subsequently get to see!
There was Thucydides, Livy, Sallust, Xenophon, and
Polybius,
Not forgetting chroniclers like Julius Caesar, Tacitus,
and the oft quoted Plutarch!
The Roman scholar Cicero had called Herodotus the
‘Father of History’;
But later the Greek historian Plutarch criticized him
for his many hearsay inaccuracies!
Even though Herodotus had cautioned his readers in
his Historical narrations, -
About those hearsay accounts and doubtful portions!
Greek historian Thucydides, who was a junior and a
contemporary of Herodotus,
For his accurate historical rendering of ‘The
Peloponnesian War’ between Athens and Sparta, -
Was praised by later scholars very much!

CYCLIC AND LINEAR PATTERNS OF HISTORY:
Herodotus believed in Nemesis and a repetitive
pattern of History.
While Thucydides with his strict investigation drew
a line between myth and reality!
Thucydides viewed history as a political struggle
based on the nature of man;
And felt that since human nature does not change
often, -
The past events would reoccur once again !
The Greeks believed in this cyclic notion of History,
Also developed a prose style to narrate their stories!
Unlike the Greeks, Roman History did not begin in an
oral Homeric tradition,
But they had a ready-made Greek model for their
historical narrations!
Roman historiography began after the Second Punic
War against Hannibal of Carthage,
When Quintus Flavius Pictor wrote Rome’s History
in Greek, instead of Latin!     (around 200BC)
Cato the Elder, was the first to write in Latin Rome’s
History,
While the Roman Livy born in Padua in 59 BC, was
praised for introducing a ‘milky richness’ of style  
for narrating these true stories !
From Julius Caesar’s accounts we learn about the
Gallic Wars and events of those ancient days;
But he Romans had used History for propaganda
and self-praise !
Also to make the conquered world to look up to them
with wonder and admiration;
For the Romans were creating History with their
conquests in a steady progression!

CYCLIC VIEW OF TIME AND HISTORY
Perhaps the cyclic view of Time has influenced the
cyclic concept of History to a great extent,
Since this cyclic view was held by many of those
Ancients !
Ancient doctrine of 'eternal return' like the seasons
of Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring, existed
in old Egypt, and the Hindu religion;
Also with the Greek Pythagoreans and Stoic
conceptions;
As well as in the Mayans and the Aztec Civilizations!
In the East, cyclic theory of History as succession of
dynastic rule developed in China,
While the Vedic Hindus developed their theory of
Cycles of Yugas!    (epoch or era)
Writing of Indian History had commenced with
the Colonial British initially,
Who had criticized India for its lack of a sense of
History and Historiography!
The ancient Hindus were more concerned with
religious philosophy, and the essence of existence,
Rather than getting absorbed with historical details!
The Hindus divide cosmic time into cyclic eras of
Satya, Tretra, Dwapara, and Kali Yugas;
With each era covering many thousands of our
human eras!
These Yugas or Cyclic segments of time is said to
repeat itself in a cyclic motion, -
Which had perhaps mystified their early views
of a clear Historical perception.
However, later Indian historians have corrected
the earlier British interpretations, -
By dividing Indian History into Ancient, Medieval
and Modern Periods,
Replacing the earlier Hindu, Muslim, and British
Periods as Colonial segregation!
And also by correcting the British Aryan Invasion
Theory as Aryan Migration;
Based on more accurate historical research and
better perception!

CHRISTIAN AND LATER VIEWS OF HISTORY:
St. Augustine during the 4th century AD, systematized
the Christian view of History, -
As a struggle between the City of God and the City
of Man, where the City of God gains victory, -
Establishing peace and prosperity!
The Christian view is therefore Linear with a
positive beginning and an end;
A providential view from the Creation of Adam
till the Day of Last Judgment!

THE RENAISSANCE: (14TH - 17TH CENTURIES):
During this period the theological view gradually
begun to fade, giving rise to the Cyclic concept of
History,
As illustrated by the decline and fall of the mighty
Roman Empire, immortalized by Edward Gibbons
in his narrated story!
This cyclic view was also maintained by Oswald
Spengler, Nikolai Danilevsky, and Paul Kennedy,
during the 19th and the 20th Centuries.

AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT : THE 18TH CENTURY
This period advocated the use of reason to obtain
objective truth, when human beings made all the
difference freed from superstition and bigotry;
Which led to favoring a Linear and a progressive
view of History.
Voltaire symbolizing the spirit of this age had
supported human wit and education, -
Since only enlightened people could give History
a positive direction !
For Karl Marx Feudalism was followed by Capitalism,
and Capitalism by Communism.
History of existing Society as the History of Class
Struggle - was Karl Marx’s new concept!
For social material forces drove History, and this
‘historical materialism’ as a revolutionary view, -
many later Scholars did accept!

SOME MODERN CONCEPTS ABOUT HISTORY
Now I share the views of three of our renowned
Historians; the German Oswald Spengler, the
British Arnold Toynbee, and the American
Carroll Quigley,
To provide you with three different concepts
of History.
Oswald Spengler (1880-1936):
Spengler’s reputation rests on his work titled
‘Decline of the West’, considered as a major
contribution to social theory;
Where he rejects the ‘Linear’ view in favor of
definite, observable, and unrelated cycles of
History!
Rejecting the Eurocentric view of History and its
Linear division into ‘Ancient-Medieval-Modern’
Eras,
Spengler recognizes eight ‘high cultures’ which
evolve as organism, following the cycles of
growth, development, and decline;
And his views astonished the Western mind!
These high cultures were the Babylonian,
Egyptian, Chinese, Indian, Mexican ( Mayan&
Aztec), Classical (Greece& Rome), Arabian,
and Western or Euro-American!
Cultures have a life span of about a thousand
years each,
So the Western Civilization too shall decline one
day, - Spengler did teach!

Arnold Toynbee (1889-1975):
Toynbee’s 12 volumes on ‘A Study of History’
covers a wider spectrum of 23 Civilizations,
Where he rejects Spengler’s cynical theory of
growth and decline of Western Nations!
“Civilization is a movement and not a condition,
a voyage not a harbor”, Arnold said;
Like human beings Civilizations were free to chart
their own course with the capacity to ‘consciously’
choose its destiny, he had felt!
Arnold moves on to formulate his Theory of
‘Challenge and Response’, since by responding to
such challenges Civilizations could move on !
These challenges could be social or environmental
he had said;
The Greeks responded to their growing population
by taking to the seas and maritime trade,
And also prospered as their overseas colonies had
begun to spread!
Toynbee’s Civilization start to decay when they lose
their moral fiber,
He perhaps over emphasized the religious and
cultural aspects, ignoring those economic factors!
But his views were certainly more popular than
the cynical Spengler!

Carroll Quigley (1910-1977):
Quigley’s scientific trained mind could not accept
either of the above views,
So he created a synthesis of Spengler and Toynbee,
while paying History its dues!
Quigley laid down seven stages for the evolution
of Civilization;
Commencing with Mixture, Gestation, Expansion,
Conflict, Universal Empire, Decay, and Invasion!
His Civilizations are neither groups nor individuals,
But each is a system which share some common
traits.
In Quigley’s model each system come into being
adapted to their environment;
But since environment always changes, Quigley
states with some relish, -
Systems which cannot adapt themselves, must
necessarily perish!

WE ARE ALL LIVING PARTICIPANTS IN THE
  LONG UNFOLDING HUMAN STORY!
“Know Thy Self” said Socrates, and the Delphic
Oracle had pronounced that he was wisest of
the Greeks!
To know ourselves truly we must know about
our past,
For this evolutionary process shall continue as
long as the Human species last!
Today we remain as a living monument to the
past,
We continue to make History as long as humans
on this planet shall last!
Our planet earth is around 4.5 billion years old;
While the first ****-erectus emerged around
two million years hence - we are told!
By walking ***** the two hands became free to
develop,
With flexible fingers and the rotating thumb;
Which was crucial for shaping the destiny of
the Human species on earth!
Our Civilization proper dates back to about
five thousand BC,
Thus an emerging pattern we can easily see!
With the development of human consciousness
we have learned to delve inwards, -
To discovered within a vast macro world!
Now, I would love to conclude this narration by
quoting from the English poet Arthur William
Edgar O’Shaughnessy’s book ‘Music and
Moonlight’;       (1874)
Do try to follow the philosophical content relevant
to the Cyclic History of Mankind!

“We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-brakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World losers and world forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties,
We build up the world’s great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire’s glory.
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And there with a new song’s measure
Can trample an empire down.

We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And overthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For Each Age Is a Dream That’s Dying,
Or One That Is Coming To Birth.”

Thanks my readers and poet friends,
Sincerely hope you will now appreciate
History better, and love its contents!
**ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR
RAJ NANDY OF NEW DELHI
Friends, those who have read part one will find the concluding portion in this narration of mine, which I tried my best to simplify! Mentioned the two basic views of History, the Linear & the Cyclic views in my narrated Story! Hope you liked the poem quoted at the end by me ! Thanks, -Raj
Prabhu Iyer Feb 2014
एक हमारा सत्य परस्पर, जो
रहस्य बन छिपा रहता है जीवन भर

This is our one mutual truth, friend,
that remains hidden a mystery all life:

खेलते रहते हैं  हम, टालते,
कसरती मेहनती हैं, कसरातों
महनतों में खोए रहतें हैं हम

we are busy playing, postponing
the question, and we are workers,
we remain immersed in our
efforts and struggles all life

पर कभी कभी, कल और आज
तक का हो सकता है अंतर, कि
'मित्र' बोलने का नही मिलता अवसर

but a day comes, when the difference
is but between the morrow, and
there's no time to even call out 'friend'

आ जाता है वो बुलावा, तो
व्यूह में फस कभी
लौट नहीं पाते,

when the call comes, so caught
up we become, that return
is not an option from the maelstrom

अचानक सा वो दिन आ जाता
है जब आ सामने उभर कर

suddenly, that we have kept hidden,
comes alive emerging from shadows

ये है जो हमारा सत्य परस्पर,
रहस्य बन रहता है जो जीवन भर

This our mutual truth, that
remains hidden a mystery all life.
My first Hindi-English bilingual poem.

The English verse is almost word-for-word for the Hindi...
ConnectHook Dec 2016
Kalifornia sub-let of the love set / squatting in squalor to dwell in splendor / Temporary Autonomous Zone ignites ignoble night / misfit labyrinth of fire / in dearth of ****, the mirth of Death / coming to Crowleyan conclusions / smoking to get lit / the flaming maze, maiming, flays / demonology of **** vs. methodology of death / distinguished Burning Man, extinguished / idyls of the idols reduced to ash / Light My Fire / sitting shiva vs. dancing shiva / rave on
They provoked him to jealousy with strange gods,
with abominations provoked they him to anger.
They sacrificed unto devils, not to God;
to gods whom they knew not,
to new gods that came newly up, whom your fathers feared not.
Of the Rock that begat thee thou art unmindful,
and hast forgotten God that formed thee.
And when the Lord saw it, he abhorred them,
because of the provoking of his sons, and of his daughters.
And he said, I will hide my face from them,
I will see what their end shall be:
for they are a very froward generation,
children in whom is no faith.
They have moved me to jealousy with that which is not God;
they have provoked me to anger with their vanities:
and I will move them to jealousy with those which are not a people;
I will provoke them to anger with a foolish nation.
For a fire is kindled in mine anger,
and shall burn unto the lowest hell,
and shall consume the earth with her increase,
and set on fire the foundations of the mountains.

[Deuteronomy 32]
Julia Brennan Jul 2015
i aspire
to root
truth
and
honesty
in all
i do

i aim
to enact
integrity
in both my
intentions
and
actions

I cannot
choose
what comes my way
in life,
but my response
to these events
is in
my control.

forever
acknowledging
the light
in my
heart,
i prioritize
my
internal
growth
yogi poems pt 2
amrutha Feb 2014
Indian Legends.

The Legend of Triambakeshwar
The supreme Lords, Brahma and Vishnu
On that auspicious day were fighting for the highest milestone
For honour
Claiming Wisdom
Voicing out their mighty combat impale
At that very moment, a resplendant pillar
Emerged, took form before them
Standing tall into the skies and stooping low spearing the Earth.
Brahma and Vishnu saw the pillar
As an examiner of infinite Wisdom
They both decided to find either end of the pillar
to prove their supreme position.
Brahma took form of a swan
to find the topmost portion of the pillar
Vishnu turns into a Boar, being the land's wild driller
to discover the bottom part of this pillar.
Brahma returns and lies to Vishnu
"I Have Found My Goal, 'O Vishnu"
Lord Vishnu surrenders with a humble heart
A fruitless effortless failure.
This pillar is no ordinary pillar
The Legend holds it as the sacred Linga
The Lord of Lords, the destroyer of Evil
The three-eyed one, the blue-throated one
Neelakanta,Shiva,Mrida,Rudra
Dayakara,Hara,Mahes­hwara
The Lord with 1008 titles of honour
Ageless, timeless, formless,
Limitless.
Shiva cursed Brahma that day dusk
"Your foul deceit smells above this land, Brahmadev
Punishment is a part of crime.
You shall never be worshipped under the stone-carved.
Temples shan't have place for you"

Brahma, enraged, growled upon the Lord
"Your greatness shall be pushed into this Earth
Into the same pillar, the Linga!
At the foot of Sahyradri, your abode lies
from now,
till forever comes."


Dear Fearless Devotee, know this that you must
On the dark midnight of this hand-chosen day
Maha Shivratri
The Holy Linga takes form as the Lingodbhav Moorti
At the blessed land of Triambakeshwara.
From underneath the Earth,
Like a descendant from the skies
The ruler of the seven worlds
Bhu, Bhuvas, Svar, Mahas, Janas, Tapas, Satya
The invincible source of destruction
Of the Seven Hells, Paatala
*Atala, Vitala, Sutala, Rasaataala, Talatala, Mahaatala,
The Patala.
काममय एवायं पुरुष इति।
स यथाकामो भवति तत्क्रतुर्भवति।
यत्क्रतुर्भवति तत्कर्म कुरुते।
यत्कर्म कुरुते तदभिसंपद्यते॥

Holy Shivratri, 2014.
LJW Nov 2015
Yoga is the union with God,
God is love.
I believe in Christ,
a word not often spoken on the mat.

The pain and agony of sin
tears at our souls and brings tears of suffering.
Ahimsa: Thou shall not ******.
Satya: Thou shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
Asteya: Thou shall not steal.
Brahmacharya: Thou shall not commit adultery.
Aparigraha: Thou shall not covet.

Then:
    You shall have no other gods before Me.
    You shall not make idols.
    You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain.
    Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.
    Honor your father and your mother.
    
It goes deeper,
not even to think a harmful thought, or wish a harmful deed.
Not even to steal an extra moment of someone's time,
Or lie to yourself about how happy you are.

Lift the sin, lift the illness, lift the suffering.
Like a miracle disease is erased once the lie leaves the room.  
God, Christ, watches each moment,
every breath,
each half of a thought
we just made.

A breath of prayer and honesty
lifts the veil we hold in place
over our eyes.

Careful not to lower it too fast all over again.
A de Carvalho May 2012
Meditation does not mean to escape, but to
come closer. Praying does not mean to speak,
but to listen. Praying is meditation.

In meditation you seek to allow peace to
penetrate, to show itself, you seek truth.

There is no knowledge in truth.  Understanding
means to throw away your knowledge.

When you regain truth, you find peace.  When
you are at peace, you are mindful, compassion
flourishes freely, you start to smile, and you
fall in love, with everything.

Compassion is a verb, love is freedom, and
truth is to be yourself.

Satya, shanti, prajna, karuna, ananda, prema
is the order to parinibbana.
Alin Feb 2016
i am good is a place
of peace and bliss
i am good is a place where
cells replace to their primordial
and i am good
is no more wonder
than when he says
i am good
when i learn
it’s as easy as
to swap
the not good
to its antonym
like within a time
as long as
a slip of the tongue
and i am good
once again
because of what he says
because of what i am


yes
we are good but
are you also good??


good is a place
not at the turn of an age / any age
in reality there is no age
there has never been a yuga
after Mahabharata

if you don’t want to
you don’t stay
in what has never been
in what will never end

there is no count for
one thing to end and for
another thing to start
no silly things like that!

there is no place
for a savior one
to show up

these are all residues
of a delusional mind
an anthropogenic
pollutant is expectation
that only awaits
and awaits
for a tomorrow
to resolve
a past! ?!?

which tomorrow?
which past?
no silly things like that
and
may you be
depressed by that!

always
a you
who values thisrthat
always
a you
who cannot be
whereas it
is one step
and not ahead
to here and now
to i
and no

no one can tell you
it is your path
it is your step

cause
we already are
and we have always been
here
enlightened in Satya
and we have always been
love

and
now
inspired by someone who says ‘i am good’
a goodness that brings goodness :)
Alin Aug 2016
the holy sand from holy lands somewhere in the multiverse brought by us accompanied by cows and rainbows as we do yoga sinking golden droplets of sun on horizons to bless and adorn as dawns on lands of parallel universes all of which we watched sitting at a beach on our yoga mats sipping the ambrosia of all tastes resembling a dance of romance of a summer spirit that starts and ends fitting to two marking rays both celebrated by the sun unquestioning but in full awareness of burgeoning of a rhythm of breath driven by grace  we are the players of this video game appearing here and there the travelers of Satya crossing time teaching timelessness.
for a dear friend  

"Nityam" means 'always'
hey it's b Feb 19
Mungkin kalian bertanya mengenai sosok yang aku sebutkan di tulisan ku sebelumnya

Yaa.. Satya

Seorang laki-laki yang mengisi hari demi hari seorang perempuan yang dari dulu sudah sendirian, kesepian, dan kesakitan menghadapi dunia nya

Bagaikan bias pelangi yang melukis abu-abu nya langit, begitulah ia

Hadirnya mengisi segala kekosongan yang ada pada diri ini dan mengisi penuh sesak dengan kasih sayang nya yang tak terhingga

Setelah ribuan pertanyaan yang selalu menyerbu kepala, lalu sampai pada kesimpulan "ternyata aku bisa ya dicintai sebegininya oleh seseorang?"

Menjadi cinta terakhir nya adalah kalimat yang selalu ia utarakan di bibir yang selalu menampakkan senyum manis nya

Namun perempuan ini tidak menyangka dalam waktu yang sangat singkat hal itu menjadi kenyataan, sebelum sekarang ia sudah berada di tempat terbaiknya

Ia berpulang.
Griefing phase; to remember forever
Mateuš Conrad May 2020
.for two days a song was haunting me, seemingly unheard before, hidden in the deep recesses of my mind - unrelated by sound or memory... yet burning itself a presence regardless of my faculties... restless... i had to take a walk through bedfords park, havering country park and hainault forest country park - through sun and rain and two bottles of wine... twice seeing bambi and at times scuttling like a rat / misanthrope from the unusual traffic of these parts... to finally find peace... Borodin's prince igor!

there's just enough of gloating to have to muster...
before some grander detail has to take form:
i've been trying to capture the song
i want to listen to: but it's hardly a genesis
of an #A... or... whistling...
             kik kershaw's the riddle?
                         it's not - now that the hindsight ("spoiler")
is presented... it wasn't a bach aria:
or a batCH... well: who's the good surd?
'ere boy... vat's a good tau: ba'ch...
     the would be baчelor: j. s. baχ...
                            a juggling act of... less than...
what james joyce's finnegans' had to offer:
and more: the diacrcrcr-detail-of-antics...
       pop sort of reference points?
                   would they be... if they weren't...
for the per se reasons?
                  details are in the noumenon -
that... axe-folding: exfoliating lesser demand
for: **** in machina...
                                      the sort of details
that mind: the over-simplified woman...
and... the terrible complicated seance of...
when witches were detailed about...
their broomsticks were to be replaced with...
vacuum cleaners... terrible details of
"unnecessary" complications...
man of science man of technology man
of engineering and man of mathematics...
much later... the man of linguistics and...
the troop of ballet dancers... the choreographers
and the composers...    

i have taken enough days to gloat...
working an addiction in reverse...
a bank-roll filled with: plenty of nicotine...
and chem.,
           just waiting for the completed
day... an exercise in language:
and jack daniels bubblegum:
pale blue... blueberry images... gluttons
of colour: those pearls...
back to music... back to music...

   i wanted: rather than tried...
to fathom a pause in the construnction
of the res cogitans: with the usual
punctuation markers...
it's hardly a semi-colon...
          a full-stop... a comma or a full-stop...
hardly the detail of syllables
with diacritical markers...
    hidden letters...
rare in english that sheer and chisel
should come together...

i was thinking of a punctuation marker
to block of all narrative...
not a mere punctuation marker -
not some apostrophre...
                precursor to the possessive article:
's..              's...
even the russians do not have
what i already have...
         namely... дж...   джик is an approximation...
something is hidden within...
dzik itself (boar)... dzikość - wildening...
        a lost attribute for the civilized man...
   дж is... slightly off from the intended:
   дз - while ж (rz or ż-art - joke) -
              is... well... it appears...
but is a few letters apart...
       for example in: drzeć (tear - ter:
not tier - nor teer - backwards to forwards...
latin diphthong of æ) -
                        to tear paper into pieces...
   a tear ran down my cheek...
   to have read: rather than... to simply: read -
and... the reed - a stalk of a bulrush...
               the eastern lands...
                      synonyms and two best known
aliases: the birch tree and the bulrush wetlands...

this is the only best: approximation
of a song akin to Borodin's prince igor...
that can't be hummed... unless heard proper...
not from an abstract of memory...
conflation of adjectives?
abstract is more an adjective than a noun...
for this presentation...

      hiding letters like a good 'ebrew...
           surds detailed with apostrophes...
mollusk legs... exercised...
  a day later and the extreme cigarette high
is "missing": not found...
   щыт "vs" szczyt / ščyt -
                 no less congested than:
                                       dość! enough!

from the initial fascination of working
english into greek...
                     things had to translate themself
into "mordor" regions: Ruś, Krym, Tartar...
the Caucaus...
                        and the Turkic dwarf plebs
of mythical Constantinople... takeover...

- with thinking i wanted to capture:
res vanus: the empty thing...
       a synchronised: symphony of...
with what's being emptied...
while at the same time... with what's being
filled...
the years passed when pacing
with a heart of a turtle...
compared to... the heart of a mouse...
i call it: no known noun...
              to think is to have the heart
of a mouse... easily agitated...
no room for lost narratives...
      hell: better still... without haikus
and all those condoms of denial and...
delayed view-count murmurs...

          a case of: res cogitans:
a thing most animate...
a case for: res vanus:
   aa thing most inanimate...
         it's... a slingshot... a strain on purpose...
it's an incremental addition of purpose...
it's a punctuation mark akin
to: lost the linear...
up toward the copernican east we go...
and then back toward the flat-earth
project of... being able to read a map:
topography... without: the need for 3D:
3D the copernican: it's all very imaginary...
vector alpha:
points beta and gamma...
to find punctuation: a silence...
a bit like... finding gravity...
which isn't a sound... but if it was...
it would be... the sound of falling rain
on leaves or lead plating of a roof...
or... the sound of recycling...
of water... in a waterfall...

by now all the ******* readers have
disappeared... there's no more...
instagram haikus in the system...
there's the drone drill sequence...
a very distant humming sound...
perhaps an impromptu crescendo of
variations of a cat's meow...

absolute: total: шит... more like шитышит:
    шыт if i was... to be honest...
   sheets of paper... floating about...
                    well... i too once thought:
those russians... with they cyrillic...
but no diacritical markers...
      well K in a mirror: ж...
                      no one told me about brining
mirrors into the project...
     sh-ch-
sz-cz-                щыт - height: well... zenith...
bl-ы'h bl-ы'h: blah... blah...
       it's a letter: the russians call a "sound"...
like the english should start calling
the letter "g" or the "h" a >sound<:
surd...    an apostrophe: gnome: 'nome...
gnosticism: 'nosticism...
                                 'alf the 'arvest...
prop'er: cockers and pouch of punches...
   very ******* irish sober to me...
brings all the harlequins and loon'doon'ish
to the backyard for:
                   milch-schütteln-und-schäkel...

and then i return the cork back onto the corkscrew...
as i pa'k - my... packaging... CCCP... comrade...
the folded soviet shop...
don't worry terrible ivan... there's a new shop
in town... the iron has morphed into silicon...
see-through curtains and...
this virus... did more damage...
than any... brave lion of the jihad would ever...
circumstance of the affairs of westminster bridge...
they would "epstein" one through
one in a while...
                 to **** chicken the populace
into a cucklicking KKK strut dance of:
burning hoods and bras and crucifixes...
and ******...
                              conventional... formal...
language usage? please reserve that for...
the golf course and business talk...
                write? write what? a kandinsky?!

yes... a big hello ******* from
tiktok and twitter...
1 minute videos and... 180 characters...
         i feel constrained... claustrophobic...
if... i can't write an imitation Dickens chapter...
1000 words is ******* lemonade...
2000 words is... regurgitating a day's worth
of a newspaper... saturday edition...
which includes the editorial and the magazines...
3000 words? a truly rare thing...
      given that... conjunctions and their details
are not counted: ' - is both an apostrophe and a surd
letter... t'at all depends: on the "v.a.t."...

the whole point was...
finding excuses to write about quitting smoking
are other... they were all fine: crack ******* smoked
when the levels of nicotine were dropping...
the upper body was exercised...
but the legs weren't... mollusks and oysters for *****...
or... toes...
to count... oysters for toes...
but when the legs have been exercised...
and a balance has been reached...
there's little to gloat about... about...
quitting smoking...
there's a need to say: the glory of the tongue
and its palette when walking...
the budding beauty of things surrounding me...
all blushing envy of the green...
  self-respecting green and its almost
teasing green phosopherscent insomnia
in the rubric of the sun: next to wake...
next to hide... a bud of bishop hues...

insomnia green of the forest...
                     poor bambi (x2)...
                    zinfandel rosé!
count! syllables! nurse! scalpel!
zin!-f'ah-del... rou-s'eh...
                              oh remind me of the night...
and the forest... the blinking moon
by count of clouds obstructing its glee...
turned into a melting moon...
spray-painted over the leaves with
its last will of agitated: clingy mercury tinge...

the debate: "debate" wasn't about...
i took 3 days to gloat about quitting smoking...
there are more important affairs to mind...
notably! notably?

example!

la traviata is an opera in three acts by (giuseppe) verdi
set to an italian libretto by francesco (maria) piave
                                                 (verbatim: i.e. borrowed)...

there... they cite... the composer...
    who doesn't need a first name, since: verdi is...
synonymous with verdi and opera composition...
but...
         yeah... you need to mention the first name
and the surname of... the libretto: francesco piave...
the opera...
      music... and... the words...
well so much for the music...
but... last time i heard... a violinist holds...
a violin and a bow...
                         what's the opera singer
to hold? the melody? no! he needs to hold...
words...

   today i passed a family in the forest...
a mother, a father... two children...
                   and a grandfather...
maternal / paternal... i don't know...
i was already on my second bottle of wine...
the woman asked me:
   'will we get back to the car park if we turn
around on this route?'
        i was already eyeing them with
a curiosity prior...
i uttered the words... 'you should...'
          not... 'i hope so... since i'll be
testing that question'...
or 'you will...'
                           several minutes later
in my own solipsistic interlude...
            you should... i swear to god...
sometimes i say something and can't
see letters behind the sound...
      like: i shouldn't really see: meow...
behind the sound a cat makes...
since... a cat doesn't just make an: ego sum: meow
universal statement...
there are variations...
    'you should'... i repeated...
slightly drunk and... whatever... i didn't see
any letters in the sound i made...
           for once... not the last time, though...

to abide in such joys from a past -
chevalier, mult estes guariz -
                 to cite charmlemagne and prince rolo:
the scandinavian convert -
who's (whoz: not who is) descendents
were the morphed vikings: the normans...
who conquered england...
        since the predecessors couldn't...
walther von der vogelweide:
                    palästanalied...
all through the german autobahn...
                   the word... AUSFAHRT!
the lands owned by the lithuanian who
married: and by marriage became converted...
from the last pagan prince of europe:
enclosure rhapsody of caged
elephants: prior: mammoths...
  the estonian bulwark...
von meer zu meer (von baltisch zu schwarzes meer)
these jagiełło platitudes of envy... chełm...
      sch'war'zes...

begotten not made: blistered...
the scarf of colour to capture the frenzy of
autumn... a shawl best worn to...
loot the colour and suffocate the subject
with: no past a dream and a dream
without rucurrence...
to borrow from the past as much
if not more from fiction!
to say: once they pickled Barbarossa...
come the third crusade... disgruntled oath-breakers...
sought the prussians...
and the lithuanians... and all that land
to the east...
had they only known... what the prussians
would make of the absence of the saxons
of the pomeranians and the bavarians...
i wasn't there... no...
but a romance is a romance is:
here's to... no ode to a ******* sailor:
capn' ahab... or the rodin instruction
knee deep in the mud at ypres...
or the mass-graves of german youth
or: how kaisser wilhelm and that in-breeding
crew of familial ties tore europe
on the altar of the bull...
before this bourgeoisie whittle adoolph HIT!
came about and charged the former
bitzmarck ***** and the elites with...
eh... the story is so told and so old...
"they" couldn't fathom the middle-project
of the khaki and ******* not coming
from their... high-brow... aristocracy...
better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven...
choir boy whittle adoolph said:
i'll borrow the schnurrbart from chaplin...
after all... with a surname like mine...
a ****** or a chaplin is no... WIN-D'SOR!
yes... apostrophe 'ere if not to hide a surd...
it's to elevate punctuation...
for the sake of syllables... the hyphen is not
enough... vowel catcher tetragrammaton
invocation! the first arm of the god:
the second arm is for: ha ha ha! laughter!
cynic and satyr!
            eh... let's leave the stoics to their
love of labouring over the fate of oysters!
protestants and pre-destination-alists...
clarvoyant calvinists!

                         from the decadence of a "lost"
empire... what "pseudo" history is to be
resurrected... romanced...
the angevin empire?! that there is a past...
the "lesser" dream...

a patrick and andrew a george...
and ef bwy newid troi (he who...
altered path) -

troedfilwr - petty velsh:
quasi-silesian / kashubian / little warsaw
of the "bigger picture" masovia...
CAPital neu...
          
- ever write something...
at a snail's pace: crow pecking...
because a moth has just flown into your room...
and... unlike... holding a seashell to your
ear... to find the ivory shore...
and the details of false echo of... galloping
waves...
you clench your hand...
and hear... fluttering... like the sound of...
desperately falling rain..

madame butterfly is an opera
by (giacomo) puccini, with a libretto
by luigi illica and giuseppe giacosa

the magic flute, k. 620, is an opera in
mozart to a german libretto by
emanuel schikaneder:

           der verk is in the form of a singspiel:
singing and spoken dialogue...
my demise: the awe... interludes of...
theatre... in an opera!

               rushing rushing and... kandinsky
the colt serenade kind...
  with... canvas... and an auction house
of reserve that... fridge magnet enterprise
of a single mother of... 6...
              
you couldn't get an opera...
working from the carmina burana...
the... libretto... thankfuly...
constricted the music...
you'd only get what you already have...
a medley... opertics instead of an opera...
sketches of an opera...
    the whole custard mess...
the rhubarb the rasberry "finicky"...
         the Goliards and the... gonnards...

               were diu werlt alle min
               von dem mere unze an den Rin,
               des wolt ih mih darben
               daz diu chunegin von Engellant
                lege an minen armen


the quid pro quos and the... anon. circus
spectacular sheen!
  
  what is the composer without the libretto?
the violin player has his violin and bow
attached: like some... frankenstein's take
on an elaboration of an autumnal fallen:
leaf of: a "false" limb...
dire desires for a lingering crescendo...
of a piece... without an overture...
bothercome children and the good life...
nothing worth clarifying the nouns:
to a supper... a goodnight...

                       bedtime with nabokov?
my take... well... it becomes apparent...
when... the local... easily accessed by the many...
avenues of love... are exercised...
what remains? taboo...
and once the taboo is... investigated...
invested in... well then...
there's that all overpowering tease of
thought not materialised into a will...
a 14 year old girl... below the mark...
she's 16 and i'm 18...
and i'm not her... cousin and this is not
israel...
                  after a while... the only *** available
is... the forbidden type...
and there's... so much freedom in
what's forbidden... when it's only thought...
the complex: θ(ought) complex
that becomes φ(inking)...

              the moment "she" starts to
perceive the mirror...
       and you're looking into the concept
of time and of glass...
  
but then... there's... the libretto... and the composer...
the rare event of: richard wagner...
where there's a schizoid... bilingual...
"in theory": der kommissar working 7/11
on the advent of: neu-muzik zu kommen!

  queen of the night aria contra...
my sleeping karma - satya - ahimsa...
that one: "last" cigarette...
me... a wife and a child...
        tidy... if i only aimed at...
the fraction to no effect...
the wife and the sole child...
i'd be doing all the proper details...
a wife and... the hungarian model...
of at least: towing 2...
      hardly an embitious venture if only
towing the holy trinity of:
fake hey-gay-zeus fake myriam fake josephus...

not looking for queen of the night aria...
   nor satie's gnossienne no.1 sampled...
ezio bosso - under the trees...
           vittorio monti
jean-paul egide martini {/^.5.p 6^)_(0$drd...
toast!
it was... bothering me... started last night...
took 6 rough miles to get the tune
out from my head...
into a coffin... of sorts...
it was... borodin's prince igor! all along!

p.s. re-flex: the politics of dancing...
       duran-duran: the reflex; ******-pointer-ler;
h'american pie contra dad:
   the gay bar: electric sexes und siebens:
hefyd...                         deutsche bankschisch...
zeit (time) and the ruschischen:
              цeit... always conflated as...
indistinguishable by a ****** / lithuanian...
           цeit - bißcuit... crumble: чarcoal...

hey presto: a *******... voilà contra eureka!
Nahh ainkh khuli ,nahhh mai sunn paya...
Maa ke pait mai rehker bhi maina apna parivar ka pyaar paya...
Jab ainkh khuli ,toh roker pura hospital sirr per uthaya ....
Phir Papa ki godi mai sirr rakhker hee mujha thoda chain aaya....
Pheli baar ghar aake , thoda mann dagmagaya....
Dada dadi ko paas dekhker,firrr maii zorr se khilkhilaya....
Jab naam sochne ki baari aayi....
Toh bua ne kaan mai naam pyaar se fusfusaya ....
Bade hokar bhi chota ke sath khelna...
Aisa charitra maina apna hee parivaar mai h paaya...
School jane ki umar mai bhi...
Har parivaar ke sadasye ko hai maina satya...
Kabhi woh dila do, yaa kabhi yeh dilado hee harr baar hai chilaya...
Harr divas ko hamne pura harsh aur ullas ke sath banya....
Pyaar se sath rehna ka hee humna hamesha se wachan h khaya....
Sabke dhurr jana ke baad bhi....
Maine apna parivaar ko hee paas paya...
Harrr sukh dukh mai unhona hee mujha  sabke sath rehna sikhaya...
Apna parivaar se dhurr jake bhi...
Maina uhna harrr jagah h paaya...
Voice call aur video call ne hee unka pyaar h mujh tak pahuchaya....
Maa ki mamta ne hee maano jaisa mujha iss kadar banaya...
Jo maina apna parivaar ka itna pyaar h paaya...
Maarte wakt bhi mera parivaar ne hee mujha kahnde per uthaya...
Ainshu aur apni yaadeino ko bhula krr hee mujha mera parivaar ne jalaya....
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
.this is a very good night for drinking, i can feel it... and i don't want to "think" about why something is right, and not wrong, at a particular moment in time: the sea of time and i, being merely a drop... how did rock evolve? well, it borrowed heavily from jazz... the anti-lyrical principle, matched with equal engagement of all the five instruments... the genius of jazz... it wasn't a thorough Bach polyphony from beginning to end, the genius marker with jazz comes when all the instruments get a chance to solo, break away from the general rhythm section... what rock relearned? the exact point, of the antithesis of lyricism... rhythm became more important, lyrics became too claustrophobic... rarely can you feel & think at the same time, rarely can you make a simultaneous statement, akin to my sleeping karma - satya... that, that **** is rare... the current rock vibe? borrows from jazz and borrows from reggae... imagine if no slave trade took place... if some nigerian didn't find a guitar... or a saxophone... something good, evidently, came out of it... that's hard to admit to, but... without exposing the western africans to european instruments? we'd still be left with songs of clarinets shoved up our ***** playing songs of irritable bowel syndrome... like: playing a clarinet shoved up your ***, pretending to not cackle marrying a crow's croaking... in situ: a lightbulb that served me well, 10+ years... now i'm too lazy to replace it, so i have five candles burning, and i'm sitting in between them, still trying to find the name of the demigod who brought down the rod of zeus from olympus, or the hammer of thor from asgard... since... sure as ****... the light imminent from a candle, is not the sort of light derived from the fifth element that's electricity... ugh... light from electricity... it's so insomniac... no wonder i ventured to call it... Insomnius... the miracle child of Thanatos and Hypnos... the ****** riddled **** affair... who wanted to crawl back to his origin, the womb of Nyx, saying: i want to be born, the proper way, unlike an unwanted **** pulled from either of your son's *****... like a shepherd pie leaving the oven... mind you... all women should be given birth via a caesarean section... i'm pretty sure we can leave the old biblical bias behind... let's have some common sense decency, no woman should be giving birth like a cow or a mule... ***** envy... oh yeah... plenty of that... when the poor ******'s head gets pushed through a ******!


the reason why dialectics died,
is because a mediator
was introduced,
and that one of the dialogue
instigators could not
play a mediator with
a joker hand...
               there's the mising
game of the joker card....
     and people say poetry is
in demise...
       poetry was born from a platonic
dialogue, rather than
an aristotelian monologue;
after all, people these days talk
about an "opinionated" man...
they never dare to mention
the dialectical man...
        everyone is entitled to their opinions,
is pressured to keep them,
like the men entrenched
in the poppy fields of belgium:
one side didn't want to hear
what the other side was talking...
sure: this whole: "but it's my opinion",
so, why not put it against
my want to exercise dialectics?
ultimately a "freedom" of speech
is worth nothing,
      when opinions remain,
akin to shovels and trench digging...

and when h'americans talk about the superficiality
of their culture, deeming 'how are you?'
questions,
   to someone like a supermarket cashier,
as deeply rooted in existential cruxes...
i just want to laugh...
   what's either deep, or superficial
about that sort of question?
   only yesterday the same...
****, that was two days ago...
fay fever...
      she looked bloated and rotten in terms
of being self-contained i.e. content...
that's why i'm so bewildered about
how h'americans see themselves,
and, notably, how their cultural norm
export is appropriated and made
the new norm, esp. in england...
me? i was being superficial asking
a "deep existential" question
of a supermarket cashier as to how
she was?
   two days ago she looked life ****
because of her hay fever,
today, i told her: you look, radiant...
that the thing, i'll respect any
occupation, but it's about time i receive
some of that respect back...
i even told my father:
  you know the happiest summer
of my life?
   it was working with you,
on the scottish widows h.q. building
near st. paul's...
          this? this is nothing...
but i don't think that owning a chemistry
degree would translate into
an ambition of working in a supermarket...
so then she told me,
  she figured out a way to get to know
this guy who owns two ambulances
just up the road...
   she wants to quit this supermarket
job, and learn to become a paramedic...
she'll go to university
and on the side, get free training
from the guy who lives up
the road and owns two ambulances...
and that's when it dawned on me...
however many times i walked
past that house,
  i thought there was a sick child
stashed in there...
   something akin to Sophia Weaver,
with rett syndrome...
  sorry, god or no god,
  pro life or pro choice...
        does anyone need to see
any more horror movies?
        i'm not even going to troll joke or
whatever...
                 what does pin-head
say in the end?
   welcome, to, your, worst, nightmare...
re-ah-lí-tȳ.
               mind you,
i once had a vision...
          of someone... who had their lips
cut-off...
and were persistently... "grinning"...
          i called this person:
                          todlächelnkopf...
death-smile-h­ead...
                           i'm still not laughing...
but... i managed to find out
what a selfless person looks like,
a supermarket cashier,
who wants to become a paramedic...
  i still don't know what the h'americans
are talking about,
when they equate: how are you doing(?)
to be, some, "grand" existential question...
perhaps h'american society is
superficial... while english society
is only "superficial" in it also being polite?
sure, faking politeness...
that's pretty "bad"...
           but there comes a problem,
when you get caught...
faking superficiality...
       for the per se sake of superficiality
per se...
                        h'americans are weird,
weirded than the english...
    "personal space"...   talking to strangers...
whatever the **** comes out
from these morphed former englishmen...
don't get me wrong: great music...
great culture...
                 but social norms
bound to something akin to a down syndrome
orangutan... funny enough...
don't orangutans resemble down syndrome
peeps?
             i mean the resembling factors
are, either funny, or frightening.
well...
   i was just talking to a cashier...
i told her she looked radiant...
            and then she opened up and told me
her ambitions...
like my english teacher said...
who gives a **** whether the whole:
an apple a day...                   keeps the doctor away...
thomas, you're a legend...
                 one, just one compliment...
and... you'll see a second sunrise in
a person's eye, even if it's turning 10pm.

p.s. it's not like mona lisa was ever smiling,
to me? if she's not showing her
teeth, and her mouth isn't agape,
she's merely, smirking...
can't exactly call it a smile,
when her chee-bones aren't raised;
crafting the doughnut full-moons
and squirming eyes.
HAPPY GANDHI JAYANTI.

An attorney at law, honest, with plenty of self- respect, today was born.

Tried he to assure all his countrymen would get cothes, water n corn.

But his main aim was to drive away the Brits n to Mother India, a free status adorn

Picked he, "Satya-Ahimsa" to achieve it; but she was often ripped off n torn;

In spite of the many difficulties, Gandhiji got her Independence; that he had, for Her sworn

His three piece suit he gave up; thereafter only a dhoti he had worn.

Thanks to the sacrifices of many many "senanis", on  15th Aug we saw, an independent morn.

Armin Dutia Motashaw

— The End —