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Great men and their stories
I listen to them carefully
I learnt of astral body
It can come out of your physical body
You've to be an advanced yogi
If a bhogi, you've to die
Astral body to come out and fly
I craved for such an astral experience
Turned an yogi from a bhogi
I had two options
Either wander jungle jungle
Meditate and practice yoga like a traditional sadhu
For decades to have magical powers
Or sit in an air conditioned environment
Take yogic lessons from some modern Guru
I chose the second option
For I was lazy dog like Albert Einstein
In terms of Hermann Minkowski's language
Lo and behold!
Miracle happened
I turned into an advanced yogi
I came out of my physical body
I floated in my astral body
I set out on a journey
Astral world of heavenly tourney
The journey was quite comfortable
Except that I was naked
The thought what would
I do if I met women on the circuit
Made me a little bit jittery
Nonetheless all went well
My dad already in the astral world
Had some telepathic inkling
He met me there in the beginning
He asked me in an authoritative tone
After all I was his son
Have you come with official records
No, I've turned an advanced yogi
I can go anywhere, everywhere
Go in, come out of black holes, white holes
Except S370HSSV
I told
With confidence
Mistaken you are my boy
He said with concern in his eyes
You aren't allowed without official records
You won't get astral clothes at the astro-drome
If caught, you would face an additional charge of obscenity
For being naked in public
So he hid me behind a bush
Bushes were as if jewelry of diamonds, gold and platinum
As I peeked behind the bush
My dad appeared on the scene after sometime
He had brought an astral chaddi for me
Buying full astral dress was very costly
It would have been sheer wastage
I realised lateron
I put on the astral chaddi
My dad gave me tight hug
He asked me to return
Come when it is my turn
Back home I took off my astral chaddi
As I was to enter my physical body
I kept it safely in my wardrobe
My physical body was lying on the bed
As if I were dead
With little effort, I entered it
Went to sleep and woke up in the morning
I searched for my prize possession
Astral chaddi in my wardrobe
It was nowhere visible
I was in utter confusion
Suddenly, a modern Guru appeared before my eyes
Prostrate on his feet I was lying
He said, get up you ignorant guy
For you enlightenment hasn't yet arrived
You need more yogic lessons
And my special blessings
With full devotion do my "seva"
Till I die, be my chela
Astral bodies and objects aren't visible in the physical world
That's why your astral chaddi has disappeared
With this I woke up from sleep
It all happened in my dream!
Chaddi = Underpants
Bhogi = A person given to pleasure and luxury
Sadhu = Ascetic
Chela = Disciple
Seva = Service
Astral body is said to be exact copy of your physical body. At the time of death, if your physical body has diseased organs and cells, so should be your astral body. If limbs are missing, astral limbs should also be missing. Average life span is 77 years, so astral world should be inhabited by aged people of average age 77 years. It is said, souls take rebirth. How, and when does one shed astral body of previous birth and acquire new astral body of an infant to fit in counterpart physical body in mother's womb? Can one explain?
CMXIClement Apr 28
One click, two clicks as they are locked within the chamber.
Trapped within themselves, stoking coals red hot with anger.


Kindness is a trinket, and people value it as much.
An ornament worth a look, but seldom worth a touch.

And now...

Sitting in this chamber, who I am remains unseen.
I could not cut enough to show what lies beneath.

And still...

I am who I am, and this world will not change me.
I will be who I am, this pain will not derange me.

And I wish...

I wish that all they saw was the color of my soul.
I wish my story mattered to them a bit more.

But now...

One click, two clicks with a hollow point in the chamber.
Freedom from myself, soaking walls blood red with anger.
To anyone that may read this, it's not a suicide note, just an "expressive" moment.
kayzamo Apr 28
do you ever feel like...
like you're ethereal, ghostly?
a fantasy existing in your own mind.
maybe the reason they don't see you is
because you're not real.

do you ever feel like...
like you walk alone in company?
flitting through dimensions,
enough in their world to exist
but wholly invisible within yours.

do you

do you ever wish

to be seen?
that someone would just
******* notice you for once?
I gladly welcome critiques. Thank you!
DanielSchott Apr 26
Way 1.
In your eyes
I am
a shadow.
I live
without reason.
You see nothing.
A blank space
that passes you by on the way
to die.
There is nothing left.

Way 2.
In your eyes
you see nothing.
I am
A blank space.
A shadow
That passes you by on the way.
I live
to die.
Without reason
there is nothing left.
Two way poem that leads to the same conclusion.
S Apr 22
I was there-
I emoted-
I read-
I tried-
But why-
can't anyone-
I mean, I'm not desperate for attention but an acknowledgement would be nice ya know?
Raven Feels Apr 19
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, stuck in crowds makes me yearn for the invisible:)

such a shame to wish the invisible

anymore not compromising with the ****** gone inevitable

doubt the crowd

all hate all loud

sprinkling poison drops in sounds

unmerciful on my exquisite highs of skied clouds

last night would never come past this already nor around

Raven Feels Apr 7
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, my lover is my bed;=]

chest to the bed

laying on my head

arches for the dead

they talk I know but in the air not said

T Mar 23
sometimes i wonder if people would know that i’ve died.
i play out fake scenarios in my head.
plan my funeral with my own eulogy on my tongue,
watch as they cry as i’m lowered to something that shouldn’t be desired.
sometimes i wonder if people would know that i’ve died,
but i go about my life everyday and they never do.
LC Mar 24
a memory wrapped its cold, rough hands
around my throat, squeezing it tightly.
as I tried to walk away, the memory
stuck its foot out, blocking my path.
I could only muster a pitiful squeak
as I fell face first onto the ground,
and the memory fell on top of me,
effectively holding my body hostage.
its hands were still on my throat,
but it was invisible to everyone else.
they only saw me fall to the ground.
they asked me what was wrong,
but I did not have air that could
breathe life into the powerful words
that were begging to leave my mind.
a sheet of paper suddenly appeared
underneath my right palm,
and a pencil rolled my way.
I gripped the sturdy pencil with
every ounce of strength I still had,
steadying the paper with my wrist,
and I wrote the words I couldn't say
so they would stop begging to leave,
even as the memory gripped my throat.
as I kept writing, I noticed the memory
stopped feeling as heavy on my body.
it was getting ****** into the paper.
it resisted at first, but after a while,
the memory slowly let go of me
and relaxed into the pencil marks.
when I had no more words left,
I picked myself up off the ground,
placed the pencil above my ear,
took the paper, hugged it to my chest,
and walked away with a smile on my face.
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