Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Meri pehchan shirf itni hai ki "I'm born in INDIA" Bharat meri pehchan h, Bharat mera samman h, Bharat mera Abhimaan h
||
Aap mujhshe sab kuch cheen sakte **, mera tan mera lahu par meri pahchaan mujhse Bhartiya hone ki nahi cheen sakte aur wahi meri identity hai, mai bhartiya hu mujhe iss par bahot garv hai or iss se uper koi garv mujhe chahie v nahi ||
Mai Bharat maa ka beta hu pahle ,uske baad ek maa ne mujhe janm dia h is sthal bharat bhumi par ussi ki lie kuch likha tha ye ki..
KAASH MERI ZINDGI ME SARHAD KI KOI SHAAM AAYE
KAASH MERI ZINDGI MERE WATAN KE KAAM AAYE
NAA KHAUF HAI MAUT KA OR NAA AARJU HAI JANNAT KI
MAGAR JAB KABHI ZIKR ** SAHEEDO KA
KAASH MERA V NAAM AAYE KAASH MERA V NAAM AAYE
This is what i would love to introduce myself like that....
Agar koi puche ki kaun tha wo -
JAB KOI PUCHE MERE BAARE ME
TO MERI YE PEHCHAAN LIKH DENA
UTHANA MERA COMMANDO DAGGER
OR CHATTI PAR HINDUSTAAN LIKH DENA
KOI PUCHE PAGAL THA WO KAUN
TO BHAGAT SINGH OR KRANTIKARIO KA CHELA
OR INQUILAB KA GULAM LIKH DENA
AUR BACHA ** JO **** ME LAHU
NIKALNA USSE OR FEKANA ZAMEEN PE
OR MAA TUJHE SAALAM LIKH DENA
Yhai parichaye tha hai or rahega...... |||||||||
Aaj kal bahot ek mudda chal rha h Desh bhakti kuch logo ne usse Hinduo se jod dia kuch ne mushlmaano se kuch ne sikkho se kuch ne ishayeo se, ek baat yaad rakhna hum pehchaan hai Ek aisa mahavidyalaya ek aisa university (its like an university ,its like a college the country is like college, we may have different wings, we may have different subjects but we all belong to une college/ university and that is Bharat ||
aaj bahot jaruri ** gya uss ‪#‎traitor‬ us gaddar ya behter language me usse ‪#‎gaddar‬ or ‪#‎Chutia‬ khenge..
lets talk about that person jisne har fauji har iss bharat maa ke bete ko hurt kia h aaj uske baare me baat karna bahot jaruri ** gya h
Naa hinduo se naa mushalmano se
iss mulk ko taqleef hai gaddar or baemaano se
jinhe hum haar samajh baithe the
gala apana sajane ko
wahi ab naag ban baithe
humhi ko kaat khane ko
Pichle 2-3 mahine, it has been disturbing me a lot " I being an Indian ,I being a simple son of this motherland feel hurt ..
Bura lagta haikaaran ye hai log kahte hai hum kuch kar nahi sakte
"Aisa hai karne par aa jaye to bahot kuch kar sakte hai , lekin hum samman karte hai bharat ke sarrwoch nyayalay ka (Supreme court ka )" or uske aadesh ki awhelna nahi karna chahte hai , uske aadesh ka paalan karte hue kuch gaddaro ko aaj v chod rakha hai,
warna aisa hai kaam hi haddia todne ka or jaan lene ka hindustani fauz karti hai |
kisi ne kaha mai unn gaddaro ka naam lena v pasand nahi karunga,bcz wo itna v deserve nahi karte ki unka naam is juban par aaye
but ek cheej bolna bahot jaruri hai ''ki Bhartiya senaa ****** hai"
Agar gharo me baithe ** naa or tumhari behne or tumhari maaye ghar se nikal kar jaa rahi hai to sirf ye hindustani fauz hai jiski dumm pe tumne bhai hone kaa baap hone ka farz nahi nibhaya hoga "this is the only indian armed forces which maintain the degnity of a soldier nad maintains that brotherhood" aapki bahne aapki maaye agar surakshit hai to wo bharat ki senaye hai jiske kaaran hai , bolne ke pahle socha karo or kismat bahot acchi thi ki fauz ke saamne nahi bola warna jo Hero bana di na iss desh ne ,fauz tum jaise ko choddti bhai nahi ....magar ye bharat ka samvidhan hai "there is the constitution of India" jisne baandh rakha hai humare haatho ko , Krodh karna meri aadat nahi hai magar aata hai gussa islie aata hai kyuki chanakya ne kaha ki akshar maine juthe logo ko mushkurate hue dekha hai .. jo sach bolta hai or dil se bolta haai usko gussa bahot aata hai or ye gussa iss bat ka hai ki iss desh me kutto ko maarne ki permission nahi hai isliye abhi tak bache hue ** "Ask ur sister ask ur family members ,if there are 10 young boys & if there is a single soldier ,ask a young girl where would you go for the help and whom would she ask for the help & i insure this that girl would go to a soldier and ask and she will say one thing suddenly she will use this word Bhaiya meri help kijie" kya hai ye jawani sambhal nahi rahi hai to batao 23 saal me Saheed Bahagat Singh,
Ram Prashad Bishmil bada bada kaam kar ke chale gye, bahot garmi aree sena join karo bharat ki fauz me aaodushmano se lado naaghar ke ander kyu dushmani ka mahaool banate **.....
Kisi ek bewkoof ne ye kah diya ki Bhagat Singh jaisa hai ,Abe sharm karo and clear ur facts before you compare that guy with revolutionaries, kaun the wo or kiski baat kar rahe ** uss inshaan ki who can't deliver two right sentences in one particular languages,
Aap uski comparison kar rahe ** jo Bharat ke samvidhan ko gaddar kah rha hai..
Thik hai bolne ki azadi hai magar ye azadi di kisne hai ," The freedom has been given to you bye the constitution of this country,The Honorable Supreme Court has some guidelines the honorable constitution of this country has some guideline and we must respect that "
Aap kaise Bhartiya sena ko ****** kah sakte ** sharm karo uss sentence par agar aaj v bacchia surakshit hai if the Indian youth if everybody who ever is doing what ever they want to do if this freedom has been given to them is just because of one thing that Indian Army ,Navy,Airforce, Indian armed forces are fighting for you day and night.
Jab tum sone jaate ** tab unki duty ka waqt shuru hota hai , sharm khao iss baat k lie aur yaad rakho Bharat ko todne ki koshish mat karo
Naa hinduo se naa mushlmano se
Iss mulk ko taqleef thi hai gaddaro se or bayemano se .
Or yaad rakho "Apni azadi ka galat upyog mat karo "
JAI HIND
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
Web- skdisro.weebly.com
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
( I am Happy to announce the publication of my new poetry book: 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi by Sonya Ki Tomlinson available on Amazon  
http://amzn.com/0984787216)
Happy and Holy Holidays



108 bhakti kisses
Courting Your adoring feet
108 Names of God
adorn the temple gates
where I kneel close to
Your precious Feet
108 Crystal mala beads
poised like stars passing
one by one over my fingers
tiny bridges across
an immense and luminous expanse
Infinite frontier
The Soul returning to its Source
offspring of Light
I look to the Heavens
my sustenance
thunderheads, distant mist
solitary black cameo shape
of a bird soaring swiftly
vanishes into
ballooning, billowing
blue wilderness of Your eyes
mannley collins Sep 2014
When I do not write poetry!
When I cant write poetry!

When all I can write is strings of meaningless associated  words
about my meaningless associated experiences
in  any of my meaningless associated lifetimes.
Spent committing meaningless associated actions.
Avoiding meaningless associated people with their
meaningless associated GroupMinds.
All meaningless without the Isness of the Universe's hand in mine.

Wandering through life with few companions.
Clad in yellow  dust.
Doing my Raja Yoga practices.
Doing my Tantric Yoga practices.
Doing my Bhakti Yoga practices.
Doing my Gnana Yoga practices.
Doing my Karma Yoga practices.
Doing my Hatha Yoga practices.

Raja Yoga.
waking--sleeping--sitting --lieing--standing--walking--running--eating--*******-swimming--r­ock climbing-trekking the  high  Himalayas---and always doing deep nasal Kriya Yoga breathing as I contemplate the passage of my days and nights and seek the answer to the eternal question of --
Who am I?.
Who am I?.
Surely not the vain and deceitful Mind?
Am I really a small but equal individual,independent,nameless,formless,genderless and non physical individual Isness formed from the Isness of the Universe?.
An individualIsness chasing after being in the
ultimate state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe.

Tantric Yoga.
Doing various sweaty and pleasure filled acts of ***  with male or female or femboy or boygirl or ******* or pansexual or anyone I fancy with a **** or a ****--and a minimum of love.
My stiff **** in a ****.
A stiff **** in my mouth.
A stiff ****  in my *******.
My stiff ****  in an *******.
*** dribbling down the inside of my legs.
*** dribbling down my chin--all over my face.
Licking wet swollen **** lips.
Licking swollen *****.
Always aiming to arouse ******--to turn on Kundalini.
To reach out and touch the hem of the Isness of the Universe's robe

Bhakti Yoga.
Singing and dancing and painting and glassperlenspiel and cooking and laughing and crying and playing----.
Saxophones and clarinets and flutes and drums and  stringed instruments and the "fool".
Especially my beloved Selmer Alto Clarinet--curved like a
serpent drunk  on life
But the greatest of my instruments is-the "fool".
Foolish for life.
Foolish for unconditional love.
Foolish for to make people laugh.
Foolish for believing that I can solve the riddle of "who am I"?.
All for the delectation of the Isness of the Universe.

Gnana Yoga.
Reading books and pamphlets and essays and sutras and suras and verses and scribbles on grubby pieces of paper.
Searching for that elusive string of associated words that tell me that an honest woman or man passed this way before me.
Not a worshipper of any "god" or "goddess" or any other Celestial being made by the Isness of the Universe to mask  its innocence.
No enlightend beings for me-oh no!.
No buddas for me-oh no!.
No beings in Gnosis for me-oh no!.
No avatars for me--oh no!
No sons or daughters of any "god" or "goddess" for me --oh no!
Just a person,*** irrelevant but compulsory, that had realised,existentially, for a brief moment that they too are a part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe.

Karma Yoga.
Every act I commit adding or subtracting from that accumulation of
Karmas,good and bad or neutral, from every lifetime I have lived.
Boy you gonna carry that weight!!.
Roll that boulder up the hill.
Only ever making Neutral Karma.
Beyond the deceptions of Duality or Non-Duality.
Neutral Karma that only arises
by practising the Six Fundamental Yogas.
But not as an obsession or a lifestyle choice.
Hey Isness of the Universe-give me a helping  hand here!

Hatha Yoga.
Keeping my current body healthy enough so I can
do all other five of the Six Fundamental Yogas.
Cooking million star meals.
No 5 star chefs in my houses.
Eating Organically and drinking water from lifes many springs.
A green leaf salad every day
Taking part in the exercise of living.
No contortions or posturing for me.
Ha! the ingoing breath.
Tha! the  outgoing breath.
Breathing set as conditioned reflex--living on automatic.
Random deep nasal breathing--waking and sleeping.
Dreaming of the Isness of the Universe.
Waking up in the Isness of the Universe's arms.
Feeling the Isness of the Universe's breath on my fevered brow.
Listening to the Isness of the Universe murmuring in a billion billion different ways--
I love you.

Hearing the Isness of the Universe say--
I breathe through your nose and lungs.
I smell through your nose.
I see through your eyes and insightfulness.
I look through your eyes.
I lick the  juice of **** or **** with your tongue.
I taste Vanilla Ice-Cream with your tongue.
I blow a wet **** or stiff **** with your mouth.
I breathe life into the Alto-Clarinet with your mouth.
I touch nakedness of others with your fingers.
I feel the Void with your fingers.
I wake into consciousness at your urgent voice.
I spring into life at your very step.
I experience all through your body.
I experience existence through your life.
I love unconditionally through being
loved unconditionally by you.
I am humble before you.
My beingness is  exalted by your humility
Your beingness is exalted by my humility.

www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
There is a sacred path
that winds through
my heart

It sings God's Name
as I dance ecstatically
along enchanted gopi banks
and over
whirling, warbling brooks

I marvel as a black and
white checkered,
red tufted woodpecker
carves God's Name on
a thankful tree trunk

Mirabai, Kabir and Rumi
wave their colorful prayer flags
verses of pure love
and devotion cling to the
very air we breathe

The Bhakti path forges
unafraid through
the bleak, brooding
forest of desires

Husky winds blow around
ghostly, skeleton branches
that claw helplessly
at the night skies
whispering valiant stories of
Rama's exile and
Krishna's triumph

Another tree it's hoary arms
outstretched
resembling a cross
bleeds, remembering the sacrifices
and love of Jesus, The Lamb of God

Trekking further into the dense
unforgiving jungle
seated in Lotus pose
a Golden Buddha
immersed in
rapturous meditation
opens His eyes for an instant

The sun rises in the east
I kneel and kiss His
glorious feet

Leaving the tangled woods
behind
suffering, godforsaken
figures of homeless people
sleeping alongside
this good samaritan road
emerge

Embodiments of God
spirits marred by defeat
and agony
stare listlessly, flies circling
oblivious to the
blistering desert heat

I stop to share a prayer,
cup of water, some fresh
baked bread from my knapsack
and a ray of hope

The path abruptly ascends
purple mountain mists
crown the summit
holy footprints of saints,
yogis, fellow pilgrims
indelibly christen
and guide my steps

Angels sweep the road
ahead tossing rose petals
and victory blossoms

Om peals
across the enlightened
Bhakti path

...and an ancient God awakens....
Nikunj Dec 2012
out from school we came to jmc,
to become what our parents wanted us to be.
with NC we enjoyed harrapan and vedic civilization,
Ashima mam taught us Transition ( paleo to noelithic).
writing 10 sides answer seemed IMPOSSIBLE,
15/25 only left us numb.
coming for hindi at 8:30 was really irritating,
mam's msg of cancelling the class was even m
ore *******.
Tues and wed 8:30 were scolding days,
since frustated JS splited her anger on us.( though i like her lot)
om sai ram and gandhi was KN's department,
though antique, she was another inspiration.
enjoyed Montage for the first time,
Chronicle was the accomplishment for the lifetime.
first year ended so rapidly,
90%ees were satisfied with 60s.
then we met the iron lady of our department (chaddha mam)
she asked questions after every second point.
RS Sharma got replaced by sultans of delhi and Satish Chandra,
every notebook had words like sufi, bhakti and Iqta.
transition frm feudalism to capitalism muddled our heads,
Dobb and Sweezy never left us till the end.( remember jha's ******* :P)
enjoyed boston tea party and civil war in States,
though never understood out of khiljis and tuglaqs- who is great?
****** taught us stress, depression and suicide,
we almost got killed by Bronte's Wuthering Heights!
Orcha trip was another milestone,
Khajurao sculptures turned all of us on :P
pool party with "tinku jiya" was superfun,
each one of us made good connections.
Second year also got over and we entered in our own little world- T9.
everything was new to us,
future tension always bothered us!
Journey to China and Japan with Chakko was great,
though we never grew intellectually and understood decline of Shogunate.
Gazala mam introduced us to napoleon and bismarc,
became our friend. guide and mentor.
Chadda mam took us to royal court of mughals and rajputs,
but Iqta and jagir still confuses us!
Sleeping time came with menon's class,
18th cent and 1857 always bored us. (though i admit she is a great scholar)
we stopped studying and started enjoying life to the fullest,
since history taught us no matter what Peasant is the one who will be suppressed!
Montage 2012 rocked,
DJ Aqeel's ferrari left us in shock!
Postponing and preponing the classes was 3rd year's trait,
petty fights over it were always great.
Since first year we all wanted this day to come,
to wear saree and have FUN.
BUT....
the Farewell day has passed :(
From now onwards... NO cancelling or preponing classes, no prof to scold us, no NSS hours to complete, no deadlines of tuts, no canteen's samosas and macroni, no diwali mela, no Montage and Chronicle, no Ashok bhaiya, no ******* and commenting and last but not the least NO HISTORY HONS 3rd YEARS (2009-2012)
No one realised how these beautiful 3 years passed away.our eyes are wet but heart is content.
just wanted to tell everyone that i will miss you all. though i may have not interacted much with everyone, but I wish you all the very best for your future...

So superseniors,
leave all grudges behind and enjoy the last week of your college life at JMC to the fullest
Hello my Dear Poet friends

If you’d like a free copy of 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi. Pick up your free copy available only on June 10, 11 and 12, 2014. Download:
http://amzn.com/B00IC6GL5W

If you enjoy the book I would appreciate a review on Amazon.
You can download one of the free Kindle apps for your web browser, desktop computer, or any mobile device you have:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId;=1000493771
Why not envision a new eco-poetics grounded in a heritage thousands of years old which upholds that everything in the universe is sacred?
    Francisco X. Alarcón


Space, time and Borges now are leaving me …
    J L Borges

The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of the personality.
    T S Eliot

One does not often think of the tripartite goddess who gave her blessed name to Ireland -  Éire, Banba, Fódla - not to mention other goddesses who have left their trace on the landscape, Danu of the Paps of Danu for instance.

Devotional poetry in India goes by the name of bhakti. In the heel of the hunt, a bhakta does not really adore or pine for any god or  goddess; as with Mirabai’s love affair with Krishna, or Muktabai singing her own glistening Self; what is sought and what is praised is the brightness of eternal brightness, our shared Self, knowing neither birth nor death.

Some words in this poem sequence are ‘shaded’ to allow for another reading of a line, or a faint echo, a game much cherished by the Celtic poets of yore. Thus, the reader sees the word as the world when written as world and encounters  bhakti invocations such as ma (mother) hidden in the word mad!
Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else.
On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband.
Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own.
I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do?
I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people.
I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket.
I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers.
With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted;
Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss.
The churner of the milk churned with great love.
When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk.
I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept.
Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore.

~~~~~~~
mere to giridhara gupaala, duusaraa na koii |
jaa ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soii ||
taata, maata, bhraata, baMdhu, apanaa nahiM koii |
ghaaM.Da daii, kula kii kaana, kyaa karegaa koii?
saMtana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka laaja khoii ||
chunarii ke kiye Tuuka Tuuka, o.Dha liinha loii |
motii muu.Nge utaara bana maalaa poii ||
a.Nsuvana jala siiMchi siiMchi prema beli boii |
aba to beli phaila gaii, aanaMda phala hoii ||
duudha kii mathaniyaa, ba.De prema se biloii |
maakhana jaba kaa.Dhi liyo, ghaagha piye koii ||
aaii maiM bhakti kaaja, jagata dekha roii |
daasii miiraa.N giradhara prabhu taare aba moii ||
__
Notes

I am the translator of this poem, "Torn in Shreds" by Mirabai. I did not copyright it; it's in the public domain and everyone is free to help themselves to it. I simply request that it appear with my name as the translator.

Johanna-Hypatia Cybeleia
Nidhi Jaiswal Aug 2020
Ram Mandir"Ayodhya"
after 500 years a golden moment in indian history of india💖
Ram Mandir to be built in "Ayodhya"
I feel so proud to be country like in India.
There are many conflicts between communities here but the love and respect for other is always greater.
I have no words to describe my "INDIA"
UNITY IN DIVERSITY✨
"diverse country where peoples of many religions live together peacefully with their on separate cultures!"
Oldest culture of world around 5000 years...
"BE IT RAM BHAKTI OR RAHIM BHAKTI,IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT WE STRENGTHEN THE SPRIT OF RASTRA BHAKTI''
narendra modi.

Ram Mandir"Ayodhya"
Again a proudful moment in Indian culture.
Naam Ra Jah Sep 2015
As I go through Kali Yuga
I'll become a Cali Buddha
Breathing, mindful
I remove my blindfold

Choosing full awareness
Seeing only fairness
Serving up some dharma
I don't eat that shawarma

Life in this Golden State
Bliss is my karmic fate
Shiva
Shakti
Seva is my bhakti
Sitting in samādhi
Blast out of my body
clay-baked women beat their clothes
clean on river rocks at dawn
cook rice and dal on an open
communal hearth
beneath a natural lantern
of Indian stars

for 20 rupees a day, roughly
half a buck
I have seen men and women tie
rags to cushion their heads
towing heavy mortar
for new construction

yet there is always a
brotherly smile gleaming
and sisterly hands eager to share
what meager provisions earned

these are no feeble folk
no fashion slaves or mere mortals
melodious bhajans mingle with
the sweat from their brows
and mantras, leelas of God
echo through the
Taj Mahal temples of their hearts

I raise my bhakti glass to the
backbone of India
Her kundalini rising
innocent, humble
village peasantry
true priests
gopikas and gopalas
who actually live
the Vedic life
Oo panchhi le jaa meri chitti us jahan mein,

Jaha rakha hai meri maa ko us uparwale ne.



Pahuchana mera ye paigaam un dono khuda ko,

Ek meri maa jo jaan se pyaari hai mujhko.



Aur ek bhagwaan ko jinhone meri jaan apne pass bula li,

Meri maa unke pass hain wo bhi ** gye bhagyashaali.



Shukriya hai maa aapka jo aapne un ishwar se keh ke,

Aapke jaisi parwaah karne wala bhej diya zindagi mein.



Humari zindagi mein aake zindagi bn gye hain wo khuda ka farishta,

Dil se dil ka rooh se rooh ka hai unse ye khubsurat rishta.



Behad khushnaseeb hai aapki beti jo mila aisa jeevan saathi,

Wo mile tou in dadhkano ko jeene ki wajah mili.



Apni rehmat humesha banaye rehna,

Unhe har pal mehfooz rakhna.



Unki khushi se barkaraar hai humari khushi,

Unka mukhda tou hai misaal saadgi ki.



Dil hai unka pavan pavitra jaise ** sacche dil se bhakti,

Unke saamne sajda kar lu tou ** jayegi ibadat -e- bandagi.



Kayenaat bhi feeki lage unki rooh ki khubsurti ke saamne,

Badi hi fursat se tarasha hai unhe us khuda ne.



Wo mil gye sab kuch mil gayaab kuch nahi chahiye,

Oo panchhi udd ja lai jaa meri ye chitthiye.
Om Sai Ram Dear Family

Excellent news! Thank You Swamiji. "108 Bhakti Kisses" Poetry book has been added to the Brevard Central Library collection in Florida. Paste the url below:

http://discover.mylibraryworld.com/#section=resource&resourceid;=449915711¤tIndex=0&view;=allCopiesDetailsTab


Sai Blessings,

Sonya Ki Tomlinson
Immersed in God ecstasy
and orange robes
the true bhakta’s thoughts
are always on God, for God
and of God
armed with pure love
the slings and arrows
of maya, good, bad and outrageous fortune
are averted
God and His beloved
whirl across the bhakti path
dancing with Rumi, Kabir,  St. Francis  Meera Bai
and all the beautiful bhaktas
for eternity
Far from the
restless boom box blare
jazz blue ****
city lights and guitars on fire

miles from the urban smell
of opulent people, pierced armpits
bulldog buildings pressed
together in a dead-heat

many asphalt moons from
quaint village cafes
Yankee Stadium, Central Park,
Queens Boulevard
and downtown mystical bookshops

I found a clear, pure halcyon stream
hewn from stars,
trickling down from Heaven
an affluent vision of strength
gushing over the softer
translucent parts of me

gentle Yogi yodeling through
my alpine heart
lets sail upstream to the roof of your
prayer washed Zen mountain
offer lotus garlands and incense
at sunrise we kneel in the
Temple Alucinante

(Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book:
108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi
http://amzn.com/0984787216)
Clay circles that allows
my hands to almost touch
ribbed startle of your
Soul in flight

That permits my breath
snake's tongue
to probe inside echoes
of a time you weren't so
sad and mocking

Wing tips brushing
floating face down
in keenness
of memory
I join lines running rivers
of peyote
stretch skin across a
stone sphinx
silently relive the
enigma

Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book:
108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi
http://amzn.com/0984787216
Like sun's gold rays
slipping backwards into
itself
alone, again in
cool darkness of thought
my heart
a flaming target
put out with
quiet tears and hopeless
longing
bleats through ember
shadows
still searching

Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book:
108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi
‪http://amzn.com/0984787216
Phoebe buffay Dec 2022
“Can miles truly separate you from friends? If you want to be with someone you love, aren’t you already there?”
A very good evening to one and all present here. Today Im  here in front of all of you as we approach the end of our schooling days.
But i believe half of my job is already done here because its not me but our scribbled stories on our school benches that will dive us into this beautiful journey of nostalgia.
Although walls cant speak but the doodles on walls of our school bathroom can surely make us reminisce those malicious scenes of crimes we have done there.

Little did we know how quick ten years would pass by just like that.We have bloomed into  flowers from tiny little saplings in this orchard of childrens Academy. And in no time, us bunch of flowers will be unveiled in front of the whole world.
I still remember in flashes, the days of our pre primary section where we would yearn for that one cup of hot chocolate milk that would be served to us at least once a week. The same craving, in the primary section transformed into love for shezwan vada pav which still continues to be our favourite. Maturity then peaked and we entered secondary section to disrupt the whole world and win the worst class award right in the beginning of sixth std.
For me Children’s Academy is not just a school- but a journey that all of us have endured for these past ten years. Living every moment as If there was no end to it because that’s how it exactly felt like ! But today im realizing how wrong I was. It ends! The journey sure does- but the bonds and the friendship is never going to end. I wish someone had warned me that more than the people, it’s those moments that I will miss the most. Now, we will never be able to dance in front of our friends classroom and make them laugh during an on going lecture while we were on our way to the washroom. Now reena miss will never nag us for using the word “abbey”. Those menacing threats by Suddha Shetty miss to apply the canteen oil on our hair if by chance we showed up with washed dry hair to  school instead can never be relived. Now nikita miss will never  ask you about your missing id card and ask u to tuck in your shirt. Whom will we have psychology sessions with if not our bhagayshree miss.Whom will we wish suprabhat guruji to now? Who will leave us discombobulated with their flabbergasting vocab if not our beloved English teachers madhavi miss and  sen gupta miss?  not even paresha miss’ chemical reactions could beat our instant change in  our demeanour from a loud noisy fish market to an attentive obedient class when rohit sir or mallya maam would be on rounds.  Its hard to believe that no matter what we do, no one will replace the void of affection of our teachers in this emancipation. Its hard to believe that how all of these annoying rules that have  been playing in the background of our life will suddenly just cease to exist. Its hard to believe that the building of children’s academy that we visited everyday will no  longer even be a part of our life. Its hard to believe that now we wont see Vipin sir laughing at his own jokes before we all start laughing… just by watching each other laugh.
The cherished and hallowed corridors of Children’s Academy will become our Alma Mater that one day will surely be revisted by us to share the pride of our collective success, one day. These golden memories and the fact mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell will never be forgotten by us. And for that I can’t thank bhakti miss and simi miss enough!

And lastly to end my speech i wish to quote no one. I wish to end my speech just by singing the first  two lines of our school song. Lets chime in for the last and final time and sing it in our heads.
“ the bells of our school, ring out far and wide
Their chimes make our childhood so happy and bright!”
Àŧùl Oct 2017
I am not angry or sad,
But I am only a bit tired.
I am not bored of loving you,
My love is there even in the blue.
I am selfish as I seek Mukti,
But I don't seek fidelity,
Nor do I threaten infidelity.

Loving you is my passion,
My flame for you will never dampen.
Such will be my eternal fashion,
That your blues I'll only ever lighten.
I will never fail in my Bhakti,
But not because I am perfect,
As I want you to be mine finally.
Mukti: Emancipation
Bhakti: Devotion
My HP Poem #1672
©Atul Kaushal
(Dedicated to our dear bhakti friend and kindred spirit
Catherine Jansen)

Catherine dances
around the cremation grounds
with the Nagi, Sadhus of Lord Shiva
skulls and snakes dangling from
their fearsome necks

Her unique eye is able to
behold beauty in the
dreadful and sublime

Cat's heart belongs to Banaras
also known as Varanasi, Kashi
City of Temples and Light
to die in Banaras is considered auspicious
and augers salvation

With Love and Compassion of the
Divine Mother
Catherine showers happy gifts
on orphaned street children
Clutching Barbie dolls and flashing
brand new dental smiles
they dance with her along the Ganges

Catherine dances with an all seeing camera
in her hands
Zooming in
and
Zooming out
of the sacred, human, transcendental experience
POSSIBLE Jun 2019
.


I’ll fast for the right word
I’ll stay still patient
yoga moving
mesa mental

I would give it all, sacrifice the self
take the leap take the fall
grasp the dream
curtain, rail, and all
falling like the rain
collected love is a blessing
but only when it’s given freely

holding on means I’m ever stressing
Always guessing,

only known :

no͓̰͍͠ ̭͔͙̥͓̤̺̕e͈͚̩̼y̪͞és̹ ̵͚͇̼̤͈
̫̭̟̲͚̞͝
̰ͅn͎͎̲̗̼̙̕ͅo̭̲̦͓͍ ̙̬͕h͉̼͎ear͏̩͓̹̥̰͕ͅt
͞
̺̕n̫̥ó̳̩̞͓̗̪̩ ̮̹̪̝m̢̭͖̟̳͖ͅḭ̪̼̪̦ͅn̘͞d̟̜̫͇
̲̟͚̖̼
̡̼̥n̜̩͕ò̟̲̼̩̻̲ ͡i̤̥̟̤͠

When we write are we fighting
against emptiness, Qi lightning
spreads through pages hand signing

Put it all on the line
like the Wichita lineman

Now you,
finished the entire line
Literate
like you the one who wrote it
Deliberate
like you the one who chose it
Free State
cause nobody can own it

Divine Griming it
trophy pwn the tone man
I admit
I’m a goofy grown man

life set to simple stages
meant to understand
here for truth nothing less
water solvent drip away fantasies

On a quest

I’m a stones throw from
ingesting strategies
breathing in breast
breathin' the best

Never miss
if you stay on point ,
laser made joint
pearled
like it’s late boy
3am
the left hand never rests
plates spinning
focus hard prayer breathe

Bhakti worship amidst the lair
screaming banshee just kissed my hair
divine shakti script the player
Pocket burning, better pay her

Direct pressure stop the bleeding

Lights appear
Lost in Meaning

....but then
just like that

the prayer stops.
O
(108 Bhakti Kisses Book Giveaway-paste link to enter)
http://www.sairapture.com/108-bhakti-kisses-book-giveaway.html


O
to touch the stars
to hold
inside this
tiny
embryo fist
one glimmer of Eternity

O
to remember
**Who I Am
JAATC Oct 2020
I'm
Unbearably fortunate
Centered in an Awareness
That's ever growing less and less subtle
As gross and form are dissolving,
Feeling like less of a substance
As my Lord,
Bestows mercy
And I manifest
Raganuga Bhakti,
I serve
Content and compliant
The Now is the Mystery
Magic is the ultimate science
Beyond reliance
Beyond refuge,
The ultimate surrender
The bow of transcendence
Has long ago been flexed,
And these moods here...
Under the shade of a tree in Vrndavan's center
Shouting praises
O!
How I yearn,
For my Dear Krsna
Niel Nov 2020
Business stains and I’m partially a napkin.
Or is it?. Can’t decide either way.
The moment aren’t too for it anyhow.
The mountain drive is so alive with soggy
Nights of living in a pent up tent.

We reached it on a back road,
      I’d hardly call it bushwhacking
Slave drivers move in and you find
       out it was yr personality
all along

The beach were *****
        Crawling, sinking, lifting foes, the victor.
Speaking of subspecies and kin. As professor has.
         Spells of nausea in the back party
        Sorting through the masters
          Seeing whom is served most devotionally
Bhakti, la-la, la la la!
              Present moment I am all..
I am all
I am all, I am all

Lifting fingers place a spell
And webs form out like destiny
Water serving through the flames
Emboldening, triumphantly exploring understanding.

Lifting fingers, for an empty shelter
‘It was crazy what was said through me, it almost sounded..but it wasn’t.’
And then we  cross it, move things
around a bit, losing yr place
Slightly, cautioning; to feel through the mess

Plenty are, and simply so that I short circuit, Everytime

— The End —