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#brahman
rising from an ocean of obsidian blue i spy consciousness, blazing brighter than a billion suns, fine tuning all it touches. the blue god is neither awake nor in slumber but in a meditative trance. in his effervescent presence time turns to ice, as an orange-lotus blooms deep within me. © 2024
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Jan 21, 2024
Jan 21, 2024 at 11:55 AM UTC
jewel of ayodhya
forgive me for committing the sin of looking for you here, there, and everywhere. forgetting the cardinal truth that you’re the omnipresent one! to think i could think of you, the one who’s beyond all thoughts my trespass too. forgive me..... © 2022
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Jun 26, 2022
Jun 26, 2022 at 1:23 PM UTC
forgive me
i bow to the dark one, hued like the rain bearing cloud, who adorns this universe as his anklet. that deep hum, in the cosmic backdrop his outgoing breath dulcet tunes from his golden flute, the gravitational field binding our Milky Way. salutations to the unborn one, who’s also the eternally playful one. karma keeper of the cosmos, bearer of the mountain of human pain! © 2022
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May 21, 2022
May 21, 2022 at 10:22 AM UTC
bearer of the mountain
with zen calm he awaits, the next chess move of whimsical time li’l does ‘time’ know, he’s way beyond it. legacy etched in stone, this warrior of awareness marches to his impending destination steeped in silence. as his life flashes in that rear view mirror, his beatific smile says it all. i’ve attained nirvana! © 2022
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May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 10:39 AM UTC
the silent sage
why does this world with all its contents seemingly disappear like sugar in milk, each time i stand in front of your sanctum of bliss? seek Govind, the one, the only with all you’ve got..... or else, in his snare of illusion you’re forever caught © 2022
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Apr 30, 2022
Apr 30, 2022 at 7:05 AM UTC
his snare of illusion
the inexplicable lightness of pure being comes from subtly discerning that the moony mind is your nemesis.... silencing it the stairway to heaven © 2021
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Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 9:15 AM UTC
stairway to heaven (the real one)
after searching here, there, everywhere, i behold right under my nose, the crescent bearing jewel whose fragrance is pure jasmine, dancing in that peaceful void between my in and outgoing breath © 2021
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Apr 24, 2021
Apr 24, 2021 at 11:55 AM UTC
breathless
inside that inner cave shines an effulgent flame, complexioned like camphor bearing a crescent moon he’s pure as white jasmine sole terminator of the veil of illusion cast by the lilting tunes of that captivating flutist © 2020
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May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 11:36 AM UTC
arunachala
in a fitting finale i summon the vanquisher of death to end this interminable cycle of transmigration the ask.... a taste of ambrosia stealthily hidden in the tranquil crevice between a potpourri of thoughts crescent bearing jewel pure as jasmine grant me the nectar of immortality ©2019
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
nectar of immortality
तत् त्वम् असि *for sitar, mridangam, vina, musical spoons, washboard, Jew’s harp and banjo* (*the names Swami and Guru-ji can be replaced by any other mystic names the reader wishes to substitute*) Swami and Guru-ji went to the river to wash their souls in the ***** water filled brass pots while they were at it, singing: “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji flexed contortions twisted minds and limbs in knots sold each other secret mantras to erase akashic records when the body rots Swami and Guru-ji taught disciples how to fast and hum and chant; bound their ***** with priestly garments, saying “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji swallowed prana purged their guts, then farted light launched their chakras into oneness in the ida and pingala of their third-eye sight Swami and Guru-ji built a temple around a monstrous calf of gold bowed before the six-armed idols chanting “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji studied parchments by the dim light of a feeble ray railed and wailed at the sinful heathen in the filthy Kali-yuga of the dying day Swami and Guru-ji made ablutions offered incense and holy foods ate their share and smoked the profit, humming “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami’s blissed devotions entwined their members with the temple belles; stuck their yonis up their lingams in the twenty-seventh circle of the seven hells. Swami and Guru-ji offered puja wrote it all off as a karmic debt – forced a shudra to bear the burden, screaming “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji meditated: pure omniscience in eternal now – drank fresh ***** from a heifer’s bladder for they knew that it was soma from a holy cow. Swami and the Guru merged with Brahman – then went home to the wife and kids. Told the servants to polish statues, saying “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” THE MORAL: (slower solemn rhythm, no banjo or Jew’s harp) Aaron’s calf is ground to powder, cast upon the Ganges’ tide. Every tribe shall taste its poison. “This is God –worship Him, worship Him – this is God – let us worship Him now…”
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
Hindoo Folk Song
तत् त्वम् असि *for sitar, mridangam, vina, musical spoons, washboard, Jew’s harp and banjo* (*the names Swami and Guru-ji can be replaced by any other mystic names the reader wishes to substitute*) Swami and Guru-ji went to the river to wash their souls in the ***** water filled brass pots while they were at it, singing: “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji flexed contortions twisted minds and limbs in knots sold each other secret mantras to erase akashic records when the body rots Swami and Guru-ji taught disciples how to fast and hum and chant; bound their ***** with priestly garments, saying “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji swallowed prana purged their guts, then farted light launched their chakras into oneness in the ida and pingala of their third-eye sight Swami and Guru-ji built a temple around a monstrous calf of gold bowed before the six-armed idols chanting “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji studied parchments by the dim light of a feeble ray railed and wailed at the sinful heathen in the filthy Kali-yuga of the dying day Swami and Guru-ji made ablutions offered incense and holy foods ate their share and smoked the profit, humming “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami’s blissed devotions entwined their members with the temple belles; stuck their yonis up their lingams in the twenty-seventh circle of the seven hells. Swami and Guru-ji offered puja wrote it all off as a karmic debt – forced a shudra to bear the burden, screaming “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” Guru and Swami-ji meditated: pure omniscience in eternal now – drank fresh ***** from a heifer’s bladder for they knew that it was soma from a holy cow. Swami and the Guru merged with Brahman – then went home to the wife and kids. Told the servants to polish statues, saying “These are Gods – worship them, worship them, these are Gods – won’t you worship them please” THE MORAL: (slower solemn rhythm, no banjo or Jew’s harp) Aaron’s calf is ground to powder, cast upon the Ganges’ tide. Every tribe shall taste its poison. “This is God –worship Him, worship Him – this is God – let us worship Him now…”
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