#hinduism
I want to understand
But time eats me
A fallacy presenting
Sometimes in beauty
Sometimes in loss
All imagined
Here I am delusional
Please, let me be
One, one with all
I can see me in you
The pieces fit together
In a puzzle we never realized
We fragmented
The picture itself is whole
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 4:11 PM UTC
9/23/21
Polarities
Possessing the mind
Stealing possibilities
If I am This
Then there is bound to be That
A perfectionist
Will find their enemy
In one who makes mountains
Out of molehills
And therefore renders themselves
Incapable
A person bound to their suffering
Suffers further
When they see others in their joy
A dislike of one thing
Pulls toward it one
Who likes that same thing
Ātman
Feeds on opposition
To free oneself
Starts from within
Diving into the divine
That which is limitless
Freedom is here
Connection
Is always an option
So long as one recognizes
Their own mortal, mental positions
And instead lends their mind
To curiosity
Here,
Love triumphs
And we all ascend.
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 3:42 PM UTC
Fear
Curiosity
Which path shall I take
Opportunity endless
First step
Awareness
Body tirelessly communicates
Will I listen?
Two
Listen
What messages does it relay?
How do the past and present inform them?
Three
Decide
Which benefits me?
The bigger, timeless Me
There is hope in understanding
My neurology
and engaging joyfully
in its plasticity
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 3:40 PM UTC
Tryin’ to figure this thing out
Heart flying
Straight up leaving behind
This mind of mine
Why are we moving
And to where
Why now
Why am I so detached
From the then and the now
To be alone is desired
A sense of inner peace
And yet I couldn’t even tell you
What that means
Seeking reasons for beliefs
Supreme beings to believe in me
Some chains to bind
So I can escape and say I’m free
Clinging to the cleaning
Of inner space
Restless
Endless torment
When faced with rejection
Of expectations
Innocent sentiments
Soon cemented
Into views of how the earth
Should be
Move me, stream
Fill my lungs if you must
But I hope that I may be present
So that I can open up
Done with the dissociation
Futile, now
What once saved me as a child
I’m alive
I am here
There is so much to be done
Not to neglect portals
to Being
the Way and One
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 3:38 PM UTC
...get between me and god.
adios
a.
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 3:53 AM UTC
The mountains
Poking up
Into the sky
Beyond the clouds
In the realm of the deities
Once going up there is
Usually no way down
For you are at the mercy of the deities.
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 8:46 AM UTC
As an ice River flower
The locals
Say it was from the gods
And goddesses
Of the Himalayan
Mountain
For each peak
Is the home of either.
So when you see a river
Think where it came from
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 7:04 AM UTC
One day the sky will no longer be blue
One day most life will fade
One day we will stand in cities of ashes
One day we will regret everything that we ever did wrong
One day we will all suffer loss
One day we will see no more in this world
Until that day,
I wait
I hope
I dream
I think
I believe
Some say you must
Do this
Do that
Be that
Think that
Believe that
To survive in the next life
I believe so,
Some believe in
Christianity
Atheism
Islam
Buddhism
Hinduism
And much more
I believe in the first
You may believe in the second
Or third
Or fourth
Or fifth
Or sixth
I don’t mean to discriminate
Or judge
I am just saying what I believe
Isn’t that what we do everyday?
You believe
I believe
We believe
Even if we are wrong
We will not know
Until our last day
And most everything will become clear
Depending on what you believe
Because of your beliefs and appearance
And my beliefs and appearance
We are treated differently
But
I believe
We are human
I believe
I know
I am human
You are human
They are human
Whatever goes on in your mind
We are all made up of bones, muscles, flesh, and blood
We all have brains, hearts, lungs
We all have skin, no matter the color
I believe we should treat each other
As we would want to be treated
Because we are all human
No matter of disabilities
No matter of color
No matter of sickness
No matter of belief
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 10:11 PM UTC
Perfection
Superimposed with self-perpetuating pollution
But being sustains all and won't mourn its loss
Clear as the sky
Untaintable
Delicious
Home
Forever
I am
The end is just the beginning
Shedding limitations
In spring reborn
A heart of immense power
Cares for all
No longer infected by the sick
For illness is a choiceless choice
That needs no cure
This is the good news
Rejoice
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 9:18 AM UTC
A feast awaits, yet we live off crumbs
A feast of the soul that is
For anyone who thinks their birthright is material has been blinded by the blind teachers
What is good fortune compared to a mother
And What is a mother compared to her embrace
And What is her embrace compared to embracing all that is
But this blindness is willful
Open the eyes that open the heart and realise the world
The space will fire up your heart like a furnace
Infinity, localised
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 8:51 AM UTC
My body is a temple
My bleeding is divine
My womanhood is spiritual
In ways that an intolerant devotee like you cannot understand
So when you barr me from entering Sabarimala
Remember that you can't stop a goddess
Saraswati is wise but her rage is wild and merciless
Lakshmi will create earthquakes that will devastate
Durga will pierce your heart with her spear
Parvathi will leave her abode and run into the streets
Kali will destroy you in unimaginable ways
They reside within us
We will cut our feet on your shattered glass
We will shout till our voices become hoarse
An army of neglected women will create a tsunami
Till you're on your back, crying
Till you give up your apparent 'religion-saving'
Helpless, wailing
And bleeding
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC
There is a line
That none dare to cross
On one side is riches
On the other is loss
The thing that stops them
Strikes fear like a wraith
It's the "truth" of deception
In those who have faith
One side is worse
But ignorance is bliss
You cannot cross over
Or in your next life you'll regress
In there no
reality is line
The line within
only is
The line has been caste
down
But
they
ignore
its
abolishment
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:24 PM UTC
It was stepping into the Afterlife
With extraterrestrial angels
Singing the chorus of My Sweet Lord
In otherworldly harmonic unison
As George Harrison embraced me
Open arms, his face transforming
Between his and Jesus Christ's
And mind you, not the one you know
But the true Middle Easterner
Most Christians tend to forget
It was a segue into a golden palace
Where Krishna showered me
With korma flavored karma
For all deeds gone unnoticed
In a life of ego and suffering
It was a most revealing of times
It was a feeling of fearful dread
When Muhammad appeared
Before he gently let me know
Misrepresentation by extremism
Had plagued his holy message
And to just live for your neighbor
It was inside a bamboo house
That was set on a tropical land
I went in to simply find peace
And saw a golden glowing man
Meditate a couple feet in the air
With one eye open, he said
"I could **** you with one thought
Conversely, you could too
However, we sit in peace
And there is great power in that"
It was all the same
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC
Born of Earth
To return to ashes
In the lightening span
We call this life
I pray
My Master Divine
To make this little light
I call my life
Your own song
Bless the last note
To fall
As dust
At Your Lotus Feet
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
in the early months we see beauty return to the world
right when we thought colorful art would stop returning
in these early months we learn so much
one of the hardest for most to accept and see
is that everything will die eventually
the beautiful flowers will one day wilt and return to being soil
the leaves on the trees will fall to the ground and become a playground for children
and one day the grass is going to be covered by the freezing snow
and just like plants, we will one day die too
this is simply just how it is
we die and will become food for worms and fertilizer for new life
but our spirits will live on and return to the beautiful spring
although most fear dying, you don't need to my dear
because the flowers have shown us that good always returns
you have existed before, you exist now, and you will continue to
accept this, for you are a flower too
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 8:02 PM UTC
Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva -
sit eternally on lotuses.
Shiva loves to destroy the universe.
He has as many arms as it takes.
Plus one, to hold a mirror.
Brahma rebuilds it all as needed.
He has four heads and four arms.
That seems about right.
Sitting between Big Bang and Big Finish
is blue Vishnu,
who symbolizes energy.
Iris and Murray Klughart of Yonkers
don't symbolize anything.
Neither do their children.
All their marriage the Klugharts have saved
for a trip to the Taj Mahal.
Each one secretly fears
the other will be disappointed.
They pray their kids will have more.
Iris lights up the place when anyone calls.
Murray lights up a dreadful cigar,
sits back like a living room ornithologist,
and fully hears her song.
The creature is in full cackle.
He'll tell her about his bad MRI -
tomorrow.
They are no one,
and their aching backs
prop up every axis,
atom,
and out-of-work deity.
Iris cries when she reads Emily Dickinson.
Iris laughs in her sleep.
Iris.
The Klugharts loved the Taj so much,
Shiva dropped his mirror.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 12:56 PM UTC
I'd like to think that they are all One,
Even the old stories said so,
But the same stories created multiple ones,
Where is the truth in all these tales?
Hidden between the lines of the translator?
Or within the words of the narrator?
Or convoluted by the repeated writings of many hands?
I guess that a journey inspired by any one of a tale,
Shall also be a tale by itself.
You may not need to verify the source,
May you be the source for others,
When we look for inspirations Upstairs,
Why not look among ourselves ?
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
Six-armed things of Asiatic trances,
temple belles entwined in temple dances:
mantra in one hand, the other holds naan.
One holding chutney and the other, paan.
Two hands left (befitting of deity):
one offers curry, one incense. Aseity
signifies self-contented wonderment.
(One wonders as well what that mantra meant...)
Note the third eye in the figure's forehead:
a spare one in case left or right go dead?
But really—how freakish these idols look:
a psycho-pantheon from a nightmare book.
(Outdone only by the Aztecs for fright
along with demons born of tribal night.)
Cobra-crowned elephant-headed mutants
sickly-sweet incense, divine pollutants
mix in with the stench of bodies burning
alongside the filthy Ganges churning
flowing with ashes from funeral ghats
excrement, corpses of humans and rats
that swarmed humble hovels of Hindustan
where gods are mass-produced for fallen man.
Maidens in saris with red tinted lips;
glossy vulgarity, loose at the hips
now growing more arms; an insect vision
enough to make one gag on religion.
The ubiquitous trident looms, a sign:
the eternally present un-divine.
Instead, it ought to stick some sacred cow
in its bovine buttocks, and so allow
beef curry for a hungry avatar
craving fresh meat in his juggernaut car.
Turn from this antediluvian scene
in sincerity, ask: what does it mean?
Were you created in these gods' image?
Is anything real behind their visage?
Blue skin and sick smiles, anointed with ghee:
exotic... but wrong theologically.
Till lingams are yonis I'll spell it out;
these Aryan idols should merit your doubt.
Such weirdness deserves some analysis
(as did old Diana of Ephesus).
Would you tingle if such a god showed up
and offered to refill your soma cup,
sending siddhis up your spinal column
with you in full lotus, clueless, solemn.
Would you offer puja in their temple,
bedeck your soul in a robe to sample
veggie-masalas, chapatis and dal,
peruse the Upanishads, and enthrall
your mind with the mystic old Rig-Vedas
fall for idolatrous sin conveyed
as spiritual truth when it's just a big lie...
bow before a multi-armed freak? Not I.
Not for all the visions in Satan's world.
Better to call B.S. than to be hurled
to hell for living and loving this lie
embracing monstrosities. By and by
the books will be opened. The Lord will judge.
Consider this your transcendental nudge
toward something less false, less fearfully fake
than the idols Antichrist nations make.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC