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Zane Safrit Mar 2019
I wanna live
With the asana girl
We could be happy
Drinking our ghee
With my asana girl

She speaks in their slogans
I nod and say yes
We roll on our mats and
Breathe through our noses
My asana girl

Twelve yogis humming
A sitar for show
The raja relaxes
And waits between chants
For his asana girl

I don’t need no money
I’m happy as hell somehow
Karma’s a ***** y’know
You see it’s all a big show
Om... om... om


Copyright © 2019 by Zane Safrit. All rights reserved.
This is a new-age take on Neil Young's 'Cinnamon Girl.' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3lZ6bBeJ488
Leonoah Apr 2020
Alas sais y medya na ng umaga nang makauwi si Natividad mula sa bahay ng kanyang amo. Pagkababa n’ya ng maliit na bag na laman ang kanyang cellphone at wallet na merong labin-limang libo at iilang barya ay marahan siyang naglakad tungo sa kwartong tinutulugan ng kanyang tatlong anak. Hinawi niya ang berdeng kurtina at sumilip sa kanyang mga anghel.
Babae ang panganay ni Natividad, o di kaya’y Vida. Labindalawang taong gulang na ito at nasa Grade 7 na. Isa sa mga malas na naabutan ng pahirap na K-12 program. Ang gitna naman ay sampung taong gulang na lalaki at mayroong down syndrome. Special child ang tawag nila sa batang tulad nito, pero “abnormal” o “abno” naman ang ipinalayaw ng mga lasinggero sa kanila. Ang bunso naman niya, si bunsoy, ay kakatapak lamang ng Grade 1. Pitong taong gulang na ito at ito ang katangkaran sa mga babae sa klase nito. Sabi ng kapwa niya magulang ay late na raw ang edad nito para sa baiting, pero kapag mahirap ka, mas maigi na ang huli kaysa wala.
Nang makitang nahihimbing pa ang mga ito ay tahimik s’yang tumalikod at naglakad papuntang kusina. Ipagluluto niya ang mga anak ng sopas at adobong manok. May mga natira pa namang sangkap na iilang gulay, gatas, at macaroni na galing pa sa bahay ni Kapitan noong nangatulong siya sa paghahanda para sa piyesta. Bumili rin siya ng kalahating kilo na pakpak ng manok, kalahating kilo pa ulit ng atay ng manok, at limang kilo ng bigas.
Inuna niya ang pagsasaing. Umabot pa ng tatlong gatang ang natitirang bigas nila sa pulang timba ng biskwit kaya ‘yun na lang ang ginamit niya. Pagkatapos ay agad niya rin itong pinalitan ng bagong biling bigas.
De-uling pa ang kalan ni Vida kaya inabot siya ng limang minuto bago nakapagpaapoy. Siniguro niyang malakas ang apoy para madaling masaing. Kakaunti na lang kasi ang oras na natitira.
Habang hinihintay na maluto ang kanin ay dumiretso na sa paghahanda ng mga sangkap si Vida. Siniguro niyang tahimik ang bawat kilos para maiwasang magising ang mga anak. Mas mapapatagal lamang kasi kung sasabay pa ang mga ito sa kanyang pagluluto.
Habang hinahati at pinaparami ang manok ay patingin-tingin s’ya sa labas. Inaabangan ang inaasahan niyang mga bisita.
Mukang magtatagal pa sila ah. Ano na kayang balita? Dito lamang naikot ang isip ni Vida sa tuwing nakikitang medyo normal pa sa labas.
May mga potpot na nagbebenta na pan de sal at monay, mga nanay na labas-masok ng kani-kanilang mga bahay dahil tulad niya ay naghahanda rin ng pagkain, at mga lalaking kauuwi lamang sa trabaho o siguro kaya’y galing sa inuman.
Tulog pa ata ang karamihan ng mga bata. Mabuti naman, walang maingay. Hindi magigising ang tatlo.
Binalikan niya ang sinaing at tiningnan kung pupwede na bang hanguin.
Okay na ito. Dapat ako magmadali talaga.
Dali-dali niyang isinalang ang kaserolang may laman na pinira-pirasong manok.
Habang hinihintay na maluto ang manok ay paunti-unti rin siyang naglilinis. Tahimik pa rin ang bawat kilos. Lampas kalahating oras na siyang nakakauwi at ano mang oras ay baka magising ang mga anak niya o di kaya’y dumating ang mga hinihintay n’ya.
Winalis niya ang buong bahay. Maliit lang naman iyon kaya mabilis lamang siyang natapos. Pagkatapos ay marahan siyang naglakad papasok sa maliit nilang tulugan, kinuha ang lumang backpack ng kanyang panganay at sinilid doon ang ilang damit. Tatlong blouse, dalawang mahabang pambaba at isang short. Dinamihan niya ang panloob dahil alanganin na kakaunti lamang ang dala.
Pagkatapos niyang mag-empake ay itinago niya muna backpack sa ilalim ng lababo. Hinango niya na rin ang manok at agad na pinalitan ng palayok na pamana pa sa kanya. Dahil hinanda niya na kanina sa labas ang lahat ng kakailanganin ay dahan dahan niyang sinara ang pinto para hindi marinig mula sa loob ang ingay ng paggigisa.
Bawat kilos niya ay mabilis, halata **** naghahabol ng oras. Kailangang makatapos agad siya para may makain ang tatlo sa paggising nila.
Nang makatapos sa sopas ay agad niya itong ipinasok at ipinatong sa lamesa. Sinigurong nakalapat ang takip para mainit-init pa sakaling tanghaliin ng gising ang mga anak.
Dali-daling hinugasan ang ginamit na kaserola sa paglalaga at agad ulit itong isinalang sa apoy. Atay ng manok ang binili niya para siguradong mas mabilis maluluto. Magandang ipang-ulam ang adobo dahil ma-sarsa, pwede ring ulit-ulitin ang pag-iinit hanggang maubos.
Habang hinihintay na lumambot na ang mga patatas, nakarinig siya ng mga yabag mula sa likuran.
Nandito na sila. Hindi pa tapos ‘tong adobo.
“Vida.” Narinig niyang tawag sa kanya ng pamilyar na boses ng lalaki. Malapit niyang kaibigan si Tobias. Tata Tobi kung tawagin ng mga anak niya. Madalas niya ditong ihabilin ang tatlo kapag kailangan niyang mag-overnight sa bahay ng amo.
“Tobi. Andito na pala kayo,” nginitian niya pa ang dalawang kasama nitong nasa likuran. Tahimik lang ang mga itong nagmamasid sa kanya.
“Hindi pa tapos ang adobo ko eh. Ilalahok ko pa lang ang atay. Pwedeng upo muna kayo doon sa loob? Saglit na lang naman ‘to.”
Mukhang nag-aalangan pa ang dalawa pero tahimik itong kinausap ni Tobi. Maya-maya ay parang pumayag na rin ito at tahimik na naglakad papasok. Narinig niya pang sinabihan ni Tobi ang mga ito na dahan-dahan lamang dahil natutulog ang mga anak niya. Napangiti na lamang siya rito.
Pagkalahok ng atay at tinakpan niya ang kaserola. Tahimik siyang naglakad papasok habang nararamdaman ang pagmamasid sa kanya. Tumungo siya sa lababo at kinuha ang backpack.
Lumapit siya sa mga panauhin at tahimik na dinaluhan ang mga ito tapos ay sabay-sabay nilang pinanood ang usok galing sa adobong atay.
“M-ma’am.” Rinig niyang tawag sa kanya ng kasama ni Tobias. Corazon ang nakaburdang apelyido sa plantsadong uniporme. Mukhang bata pa ito at baguhan.
“Naku, ser. ‘Wag na po ganoon ang itawag niyo sa akin. Alam niyo naman na kung sino ako.” Maraan niyang sabi dito, nahihiya.
“Vida. Pwede ka namang tumanggi.” Si Tobias talaga.
“Tobi naman. Parang hindi ka pamilyar. Tabingi ang tatsulok, Tobias. Alam mo iyan.” Iniiwasan niyang salubungin ang mga mata ni Tobias. Nararamdaman niya kasi ang paninitig nito. Tumatagos. Damang-dama niya sa bawat himaymay ng katawan niya at baka saglit lamang na pagtingin dito ay umiyak na siya.
Kanina niya pa nilulunok ang umaalsang hagulhol dail ayaw niyang magising ang mga anak.
“Vida…” marahang tawag sa kanya ng isa pang kasama ni Tobi. Mukhang mas matanda ito sa Corazon pero halatang mas matanda pa rin ang kaibigan niya.
“Ano ba talaga ang nangyari?”
“Ser…Abit,” mabagal niyang basa sa apelyido nito.
“Ngayon lang po ako nanindigan para sa sarili ko.” garalgal ang boses niya. Nararamdaman niya na ang umaahon na luha.
“Isang beses ko lang po naramdaman na tao ako, ser. At ngayon po iyon. Nakakapangsisi na sa ganitong paraan ko lang nabawi ang pagkatao ko, pero ang mahalaga po ay ang mga anak ko. Mahalaga po sila sa’kin, ser.” mahina lamang ang pagkakasabi niya, sapat na para magkarinigan silang apat.
“Kung mahalaga sila, bakit mo ginawa ‘yon? Vida, bakit ka pumatay?”
Sasagot n asana siya ng marinig niyang kumaluskos ang banig mula sa kuwarto. Lumabas doon ang panganay niyang pupungas-pungas pa. dagli niya itong pinalapit at pinaupo sa kinauupuan niya. Lumuhod siya sa harap nito para magpantay sila.
“Anak. Good morning. Kamusta ang tulog mo?”
“Good morning din, nay. Sino po sila? ‘Ta Tobi?”
“Kaibigan sila ni ‘Ta Tobias, be. Hinihintay nila ako kasi may pupuntahan kami eh.” marahan niyang paliwanag, tinatantya ang bawat salita dahil bagong gising lamang ang anak.
“Saan, nay? May handaan po uli sina ser?” tukoy nito sa mga dati niyang amo.
“Basta ‘nak. Kunin mo muna yung bag ko doon sa lamesa, dali. Kunin ko yung ulam natin mamaya. Masarap yun, be.”
Agad naman itong sumunod habang kinukuha niya na rin ang bagong luto na adobo. Pagkapatong sa lamesa ng ulam ay nilapitan niya ulit ang anak na tinitingnan-tingnan ang tahimik na mga  kasama ni Tobias.
“Be…” tawag niya rito.
Pagkalingon nito sa kanya ay hinawakan niya ang mga kamay nito. Nagsisikip na ang lalamunan niya. Nag-iinit na rin ang mga mata niya at nahihirapan na sa pagbuga ng hangin.
“Be, wala na sina ser. Wala na sila, hindi na nila tayo magugulo.” ngiti niya rito. Namilog naman ang mga mata nito. Halata **** natuwa sa narinig.
“Tahimik na tayo, nay? Hindi na nila kakalampagin ang pinto natin sa gabi?”
“Hindi na siguro, anak. Makakatulog na kayo ng dire-diretso, pangako.” Sinapo niya ang mukha nito tapos ay matunog na hinalikan sa pisngi at noo. ‘Eto na ang matagal niyang pinapangarap na buhay para sa mga anak. Tahimik. Simple. Walang gulo.
“Kaso, ‘nak, kailangan kong sumama sa kanila.” Turo niya kayna Tobias. Nanonood lamang ito sa kanila. Hawak na rin ni Tobi ang backpack niya.
“May ginawa kasi si nanay, be. Para diretso na ang tulog natin at para di na tayo guluhin nina ser. Pramis ko naman sa’yo be, magsasama ulit tayo. Pangako. Bilangin mo ang tulog na hindi tayo magkakasama. Tapos pagbalik ko, hihigitan ko pa ‘yon ng maraming maraming tulog na magkakasama na tayo.”
“Nay…” nagtataka na ang itsura ng anak niya. Namumula na kasi ang mukha niya panigurado. Kakapigil na humagulhol dahil ayaw niyang magising ang dalawa pang anak.
“Anak parang ano lang ito…abroad. Diba may kaklase kang nasa abroad ang nanay? Doon din ako, be.”
Bigla ay nagtubig ang mga mata ng panganay niya. Malalaking butil ng tubig. Hindi niya alam kung naniniwala pa ba ito sa mga sinasabi niya, o kung naiintindihan na nito ang mga nangyayari.
“Itong bag ko, andiyan yung wallet at telepono ko. Diba matagal mo nang gusto magkaroon ng ganon, be? Iyo na ‘yan, basta dapat iingatan mo ha. Yung pera be, kay Tata Tobias mo ihahabilin. Habang nagtatrabaho ako, kay ‘Ta Tobi muna kayo.”
“Nay, hindi ka naman magtatrabaho eh.” Lumabi ang anak niya tapos ay tuluyan nang nalaglag ang luha.
Tinawanan niya naman ito. “Sira, magtatrabaho ako. Basta intayin mo ‘ko be ha? Kayo nina bunsoy ko, ha?” Hindi niya napigilang lambing-lambingin ito na parang batang munti. Kailangan ay sulitin niya ang pagkakataon.
Paulit-ulit niya itong dinampian ng maliliit na halik sa mukha, wala na siyang pakealam kung malasahan niya ang alat ng luha nito. Kailangan ay masulit niya ang natitirang oras.
“Nay, sama po ako. Sama kami ni bunsoy. Tahimik lang kami lagi, pramis, nay. Parang kapag andito si ser, hindi naman kami gugulo doon.” Tuluyan na ngang umalpas ang hikbi niya. Naalala niyang muli ang rason kung ba’t n’ya ito ginagawa. Para sa tahimik na buhay ng mga anak.
“Sus, maniwala sa’yo, be. Basta hintayin mo si nay. ‘Lika ***** tayo doon sa kwarto, magbabye ako kayna bunsoy.” Yakag niya rito. Sumama naman ito sa kanya habang nakayakap sa baywang niya. Humihikbi-hikbi pa rin ito habang naagos ang luha.
Tahimik niyang nilapitan ang dalawa. Kinumutan niyang muli ang mga ito at kinintalan ng masusuyong halik sa mga noo. Bata pa ang mga anak niya. Marami pa silang magagawa. Malayo pa ang mararating nila. Hindi tulad ng mga magulang nila, ‘yun ang sisiguraduhin niya. Hindi ito mapapatulad sa kanila ng mister niya.
“Be, dito ka na lang ha. Alis na si nanay. Alagaan mo sina bunsoy, be, ha. Pati sarili mo. Ang iskul mo anak, kahit hindi ka manguna, ayos lang kay nanay. Hindi naman ako magagalit. Basta gagalingan mo hangga’t kaya mo ha. Mahal kita, be. Kayong tatlo. Mahal na mahal namin kayo.” Mahigpit niya itong niyakap habang paiyak na binubulong ang mga habilin. Wala na ring tigil ang pag-iyak niya kaya agad na siyang tumayo. Baka magising pa ang dalawa.
Nakita niya namang nakaabang sa pinto si Tobi bitbit ang bag niya. Kinuha niya rito ang bag at sinabihang ito na ang bahala sa mga anak. Baog si Tobias at iniwan na ng asawa. Sumama raw sa ibang lalaking mas mayaman pa rito. Kagawad si Tobias sa lugar nila kaya sigurado siyang hindi magugutom ang mga anak niya rito. May tiwala siyang mamahalin ni Tobias na parang sarili nitong mga anak ang tatlo dahil matagal niya na itong nasaksihan.
Pagsakay sa sasakyan kasama ang dalawang pulis na kasama ni Tobias ay saka lamang siya pinosasan ng lalaking may burdang Corazon.
“Kilala namang sindikato yung napatay mo, ma’am. Kulang lamang kami sa ebidensya dahil malakas ang kapit sa taas. Kung sana…sana ay hindi ka nag-iwan ng sulat.”
“Nabuhay ang mga anak kong may duwag na ina, ser. Ayokong lumaki pa sila sa puder ng isang taong walang paninindigan. Pinatay niya na ang asawa ko. Dapat ay sapat na ‘yon na bayad sa utang namin, diba?” kung kanina ay halo humagulhol siya sa harap ng mga anak, ngayon ay walang emosyong mahahamig sa boses niya. Nakatingin lamang siya sa labas at tinititigan ang mga napapatingin sa dumadaang sasakyan ng pulis.
Kung sana ay hindi tinulungan ng mga nakatataas ang amo niya. Kung sana ay nakakalap ng sapat na mga ebidensya ang mga pulis na ngayon ay kasama niya. Kung sana ay may naipambayad sila sa inutang ng asawa niya para pambayad sa panganganak niya.
Kung hindi siguro siya mahirap, baka wala siya rito.
unedited
Prabhu Iyer Jun 2016
Stay well, table, inviting me
to sit by your side, sipping tea,

stay warm, books, wrapped warm
in your covers, steeped in Spirit,

stay well, koel, sing the same way
every stuttering morning that
comes lisping in the winds
and the tongues of the swallows

stay well, gulmohar, ever
alive in a glow of blooms
warming bare the summer heart

stay well, pens, ever meditating
this way, conjuring up
all the stories I tell in verse

stay well, my droid phone,
go on, recharge yourself in your
morning asana tied to the mains

stay well, web, where I plug in
and broadcast my thoughts
and receive blessings and grace
The coel (cuckoo) and the gulmohar (flame tree) are staples of the late Indian summer, heralding the monsoon. Days now are hanging overcast with clouds, waiting to break over the land in breathtaking shower and thunder. But we wait for this rain, all year. This is our national season.
Keiya Tasire Jan 2019
On the land of our family
Are the ashes of generations.
Each generation planted with the saplings of the trees  
The Cedar, The Fir, The Larch, and The Mountain Ash
Standing regal in the sun's early light.

It is a new day
Standing under their boughs
Comforted by ancestral arms touching
In a circle of Love and Light.

What is emerging?
Sprouting up from under the Sphagnum  
It's a seed! Raising its head
Peeking up, and stretching towards the sun.

Ever upward it expands
Though nights of rain and clouds.
Through days of heat and seeming drought.

Yet the seedling grows and endures
Bent by the late summer winds
The fiber of wisdom ever increasing within its core.

At the end of Indian Summer
The frost begins to unleash its chill
The young sapling freezes
As the blanket of white thickens across the land.

With the weight upon it's back
In humility the sapling bends low to kiss the earth.
Bravely holding this asana in the coldest of the winter days.

Today by my window
I am basking in the sunlight of a very early spring,
Bright are shimmering reflections of sunlight snow.

Squinting, with eyes half open and eyes half closed
The small rainbows begin to dance
Between each pair of lashes.
A delighted inner child
Chuckling with joy.

I can hear the sound of water running  
And ice falling from the rooftops above.
The snow is finally melting!

The tall cedar boughs dance with the wind.
Up and down, releasing their winter coats
As Ice crystals floating on the air.

Gazing across the white wonder
To the very spot where I last saw our little tree
What of the little seedling?
Is it still alive?
Or broken and crush by the ice and snow?
My musing over the Cedar Sapling
Shifted with a gasping surprise
It sprung up!
Announcing "I am still alive!"
And my inner voice giggled with delight.

Hum, I wonder
Do trees have a heart?
Do they perceive beyond their bark?
Do they remember?
In this very moment the sapling's sudden appearance
During my musing seemed to express, "Yes!"

Is it just a deep enduring feeling
That the elders of this world
Are the 400+ year old Cedars
Keeping their long record of time?

My dear little sapling
may you continue to grow into magnificence.
I will only see your first 100 years.

For your last four hundred
Allow me to lie at your roots
Under the Sphagnum from which you sprung.

And my children will water flowers at your base
That you may grow as the guardian of the ancestor
Who planted your seed and watched you grow.

Yes, the very one who is now delighted that you
Have popped up from under your blanket of snow.
The winter is giving to an early spring here where we live. There is a young sapling outside my kitchen window I have watched for two years now. This is the second season I have watched it pop up out from under the blanket of snow that has covered it thickly each winter. I am amazed at its flexibility, strength, endurance and tenacity. As the years pass I will continue to watch over this little tree with the desire that it will watch over me when I have passed and my body has been laid to rest.
Matthew Sep 2018
From a young age I was claiming to see angels, aliens, elementals, sometimes god himself walking in the sun. I remember surprising my teacher at age four by explaining infinity and drawing a figure eight for her.
I'm telling you these things, and other parts of my background because it all just feels necessary, if I'm to have any credibility for rational thought when I somehow find a way to explain what happened in there. It's been almost a week, I'm still jacked in the head. One thought, one memory, one feeling and all I can do is sob.
I digress. My point is that I've always been a highly spiritual person. What started as a Catholic would travel through taoism, Buddhism, the Cherokee and Hopi, the Hindu.. I've learned their Kung Fu, their Asana yoga, their healing through chi. I can say with no ego or shame, I am a shaman.
Christ, coming full circle, now amazes me the most. From that short line, "for through me all things are possible."
It's funny, but it took all that eastern mystic learning for me to come to understand the truly timeless nature of the cross, of God, and of ourselves.
I also, from age fifteen, was frequently hypnotized, and used an array of other advanced tequnique therapies meant to increase sub concsious brain hemisphere communication speeds. Remarkable stuff. From there I taught myself how to meditate and heal, and my colleague and I continued our experiments on into my early thirties.

I'm writing all of this because I want you all to know what I mean when I say "I am extremely in tune with my body and often sense things intuitively."
I'm getting there..
yosemite Jan 2019
body dripping sweat
gently kiss the bamboo mat
in chaturanga
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
What does samkhya have to do with yoga?
Dual teaching like I told you twice

They say theres….

2 eternal principles manifest in the universe
nature and the self, knowledge like pursua and prakriti different and yet same in this verse
Salvation through transcenscion duality is false i ought to mention
see through it like fallacy, I bless you no curse now apphrension

like flower prints we impresstoo

Lying and violence distract you from your higher purpose
You think you got swag psh better listen thrice so you know you heard this

the only style you got is the life you gotta clean up
clean up your lifestyle , clean up your style, clean up your lifestyle, clean up yo …. liberation comes from

Samadhi : contemplate : enlightened like we : got no hate upon me
but first you gotta meditate, dhyana  and control your breathe
asana  like my chest is pranayamic some speak false **** like they got no teeth,  these thoughts they squeeze but

The churning of the mind cesses when you find
time to practice seeing the self you framing in kind

Epileptic I seizure mind, so epic synesthetic ,
that ***** divine storm like a portal, shorn my form as a mortal

Come and See the world as it truly is
Ill exist till I die, no reincarnation for I and I
namaste  , en lakesh multi-lingual in these cypher cries

Valid means of knowledge:
Did you observe?
Could you infer?
Do they speak with authority?
Could you preach the analogy?

Just because you don’t see
Doesn’t mean it won’t be
Just because you don’t see
doesn’t mean that the **** won’t be

How do I know I am not the only person in the universe
I know my experience
They display markers
We speak we write We **** we fight
We wish We cry we live we die
so maybe were all conscious

looking at you like
maybe you bought this,
cautious we want this, auspice truth

Smoke gone ghost like I haunt this
Is sound More important Than its Meaning?
Asana

Light shifting through leaves
Rich loam and strong root
Connected earth and limb

Vrksasana*

I am that, i am
There is stillness  
Peace in silence
Jessica Golich Aug 2014
Staring into the nothingness
Ambient music elevating universal oneness
Remarkable distinction of detachment; experiencing stillness within intergalactic travel, curiosity peaking of what will unravel
Culmination of rhythmic and cosmic electronica; tuning in as one breathes through the harmonica
Integrating the wisdom and vital energy of Prajna, while sitting comfortably in a restorative asana.
Your soul has changed
with years
riping as a pint
of a dark foamed ale

perhaps
you
love

yourself

More now then
ever did you
communicate
with girls

back then

Universal
Primal
Shame

Unwanted
Foolishness

I'm sorry I didn't saw
this
Coming
Handsome
Confident Male

Before

Mind
Control
Takes
fibers
over
our
fible
unsecure
emotions

Yesterday
Years
After
This
Club

Party


We
Are
Both
Old souls
Encountering
Young Nights

Opening our Hearts
With tongues
In our caves

Excalibur
Was your
Chest

As a Chess
Position
pressed
near
my
being
still enemies

Opening of
our
. . . . .
Occured
As
An
AsanA
Surprise

Entrance for me
a speck of
recognition

your
serene
poetic
dark locks
laser beam look

Then your
momentary
deliberate
act

to merge
tighter
with
my
body
rubbing
against my

cat bra


Exit for you
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Love
KM Ramsey Apr 2017
sometimes i think no one can understand how
when i finally release in savasana
and my sweat is pooling in my ear canal
and deafening me like i'm at the
bottom of the ******* ocean
that i suddenly stop feeling
the crushing weight of a mile of sea
above me
and become the sea itself
exuding lacrimal saline
and luckily no one can distinguish my
oozing despair from my
sweaty travails of
chaturangas and vrabadrasanas
but what warrior sobs in silence?
of memories of life squeezed from
corporeal forms
of final breaths
of person become corpse
of the loneliness of transcendence
of the destitute state of calling yourself
survivor.

but i sob.

myself assuming a pose named corpse
allowing me to be reborn and emerge
from asana as enlightened
how can a corpse feel the weight of
the world on her chest
the weight of miles of tilled earth
crushing memories and corpses that
drown me until i am too much
too close to actual death
that it makes me ache for those who
have gone before me
and whose tendrils are still stitched
into my heart making me wish
i actually believed all the *******
saying i will awake after
departure from my moral coil
to be greeted by those i've lost
those i miss
those who make me sob in savasana.

but how healthy would that be?

it would probably be the only
thing which could make death seem
more appealing
to someone who fantasizes about
overdoses and suspension bridges
long falls ending in darkness.

don't tell me there is a better place
when just nothingness and
non-existence is already my
better place.

don't promise me i'll see her
again when i'm
one of those people who wants
to see her so badly that i
would walk out onto the freeway
to facilitate that reunion.

but luckily i don't believe
i can't believe
even if i wish i could
have that security blanket to curl
up with in the dead absolute zero
of night so i wouldn't have
that bone-crushing anxiety and loneliness
that exploding grief when
it all hits me anew
like i'm watching her take her
last breath all over again
myself the corpse now
sobbing in savasana.

maybe it's the stillness that gets me
as i lay covered in sweat
eyes closed
it's the first time in the day i'm
present only in that moment
not mentally worrying whether i've
missed an email or
somehow ****** up my relationship
in ways i still can't fully understand
but i can't dispel my thoughts who
lurk below the surface
they bubble up in my sweat
they slide to the surface in each down dog
and destroy me when my
body stops moving and i release
sobbing in savasana.
letters from myself
Alin Nov 2015
There is a light
we hold
it shines
-almost literally-
from inside
and
illuminates

like when
the electric bulb
first time realized
the essence
of its very source

and
Now

still in a same
fit for itself box
enlightens
the once a dark corner
by the embracing romance
of its truth

As visible such a bulb is to eyes
(and as such )
sensuous is this light to us
when we  fully are
and
inside the heart

and
Now
Whenever
we breathe
in asana
the sun shines
for the one
receiving
this
blissful
rhyme
Arcassin B Jan 2017
By Arcassin Burnham

Can't get away from the problems,
Nowhere to hide from the drama,
I was always the outcast looking towards a new life
With some rare asana,
Developing nothing from mama,
Except the bad qualities,
Getting through it all with ease,
While making a living,
I can't fight with these demons,
I can't breathe just to speak,
Along around the park with memories as a kid,
You never would see me,
And now you decide you would hate me,
I'm more of a man than you portray me,
Not looking for your envy or the devilish pity.

/

Down by the bridge where we stored our
Feelings,
It has us walking in parallels as were
Holding hands with our own magic spells to
Catch each others eyes each time we split
apart from the sight of love and watching
roses blooming in this country heat ,
Sweating Pure juices when being cooked,
Like two bees retrieving honey,
When the things we watch on t.v. are funny,
When we think that time has stood still
For us to kiss and hug and feast upon our glances,
We lost all of that,
There is no more second chances.
©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/01/nowhere-to-hide-has-us.html
Dissident Oct 22
I find myself again
performing the ritual of changes
at the clotting edge of sunset,
where shadows slip silent through reeds
and brackish waters, thick with primordial mist.

The sky blazes indigo,
fades to ochre,
to umber—
and then to that dreamless, colorless hue
nightfall stretches across the horizon,
serene as a young god in asana.

A delta of sandhill cranes rises overhead,
their bugling, sharp, piercing the rugged dusk—
autumnal, deep,
woven from ten thousand shades of mauve, gunmetal, plum.

One older bird lingers behind the flock,
his scarlet brow an open wound
glimmering against the vermilion cut of sky.
He glides, unhurried, in perfect silence.

Listening to their ragged calls,
I feel my body dissolve into the trembling stillness,
brilliant, vast,
time herself, exhales.

— The End —