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Ki fir meri yaad aa rahi hogi
Fir wo deepak bujha rahi hogi2    *2

Ki fir mere facebook pe aa kar wo *3
Khud ko baynarr bana rahi hogi *2    *2

Ki fir meri yaad aa rhi hogi
Fir wo deepak bujha rahi hogi.....

Apne bete ka chum kr matha *3
Mujhko teeka laga rahi hogi *2     * 2
Fir meri yaad aa rahi hogi
Fir wo deepak bujha rahi hogi.....
2

Fir ussi ne usse chuwa hoga  3
Fir ussi se nibha rahi hogi *2
Fir meri yaad aa rhi hogi
Fir wo deepak bujha rahi hogi.....

**** chaadar sa ***** gya hoga *3
Ruh silwat hata rahi hogi
2
Fir meri yaad aa rahi hogi
Fir wo deepak bujha rahi hogi...

Fir se ek raat kat gyi hogi 3
Fir se ek raat aa rhi hogi
2
Fir meri yaad aa rahi hogi
Fir wo deepak bujha rahi hogi...... *2
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
Web- skdisro.weebly.com
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
Sam Hawkins Jun 2017
aboriginal
pre-literate
innocent and forever renewed

(as if flash flashing
back and forth to heaven)

one hundred trillion cells of me
notice i am noticing them

i send them
all my love

grounding

i am walking tree
with fibrous light as root

grounding

i am sitting stone
galaxy within galaxies
infinitum spinning

my body
the dance of the universe

do you tell me i am anything less?

do you tell yourself
you are anything less?
"My body's the dance of the universe" is a beautiful mantra from Deepak Chopra's book "Power Freedom and Grace"
Twinkle Sagwal Aug 2014
This is about 25 days ago,I and my brother were at my uncle Deepak's home. We all were very excited because at our home somebody had to came. At that day my aunt Jyoti's brother came with his wife, but,those were not about whom I am talking. After several hours a call came to us of my uncle,he was saying"We are coming in 15 minutes." We all got more excited as we were,especially my brother Rahul was excited because there was a special gift for him.After 10-15 minutes we heard a car's horn.He was my uncle Deepak and my uncle Anil.Uncle Anil was the special person.He was my father's sister's husband, Mr.Anil Turan.He had arrived at our home to take back my father's sister aunt Sangeeta and a little and cute 11 months 15 days baby back to Australia. After 2 days on 29-08-14 they have to go to airport to take a flight of Australia from there.I,Rahul and my grandmother's nephew Preeti also want to go,but my father and uncle Deepak protested, but at last this was final that we three will also go.After two days the date came when we all had to left aunt Sangeeta and Rehab.We all had booked 1 car and one is of our own.On that day we had to move from here for Delhi airport at 3:00 pm.After 3-4 hours we enter in Delhi, but before going to airport we go to my uncle's home where I met to my uncle as well as my aunt and my cousins. After moving from there after half hour we reached to airport;there my look was as a foreigner so all were saying to me that we think Teenu will go Australia. There we left Rehan and his parents and came from there. That was my last meeting with Rehan .I left there Rehan but not our sweet and lovely moments which we spent together. Today also when I think about him tears automatically come from my eyes.
Deepak K B Jun 2018
He gives his heart a shake,
And laughs until his belly aches.
The only other sound’s the break,
Of distant trees and birds awake.

_Deepak K B
"You are Beer-sheva, the garden of the seven lights, and I desire to dwell in you forever." Your lips recite sparks of light clothed in mystical words, your body is an esoteric tent, and the wise meet to observe you. Your golden skin, a scroll where the angels write the desires and the care of the heavens.Your beautiful ******* are divine sphinxes that hide the honey of Wisdom.Who will be worthy of you to feed? On what lips will you distil the sweet and sublime honey that flow That I may be worthy to drink of your honey, and that my mouth have merit to prove the waters of your fountain, for you are the Shrine of the Divine, the dwelling place of the Holy Presence in this world.You are Beer-sheva, The garden of seven lights and I eternally desire to dwell in you. " Sipra Shefatai Tevuna (Lips of Sublime Understanding)*


Deepak Sankara Veda
Tara'a is a term of the Zoharic Aramaic and means Sentinel - angelic creature that has six wings and that guards the Gates to the Upper Palaces (Heichal'Ot) of the Tree of the Lives.
"What could be more beautiful than your lips? Reciting the esoteric poetry of the Garden of Eden, the sacred prayers that the angels sing in heaven and noted the souls of the Scribes of the Heavenly Academy? I love the beauty of your mouth and the wiggle of your lips, the Gates of Paradise, reciting the Holy Qabalah of God. your mouth is the Tara'a of Gate of the Palace of Love".

Esotérika II - The Mystical Poetry Of The Awekening by Deepak Sankara Veda

Tara'a: Aramaic Zoharic "Sentinel" - Creature of Light that guard the entrances to the Castle of Heaven.
"Impregnate my thoughts with memories of your beauty. I find myself watching the contours your beautiful lips, for me, the Gates of Palece of Love. I take desirous of you to open your mouth and I will hear your whispers, light sparks flying through your lips revealing to me the Wisdom of Heavenly Academy. Angels are your kisses and my lips wish the angelic creatures that blow yours, the sacred fiery letters emerging from the splendor of your soul".

Esotérika II - The Wake Of Mystical Poetry Deepak Sankara Veda
Mary McCray Apr 2013
Today is the air I have in my lungs
after twenty-two days of meditation
with Deepak and Oprah online.

I percolate on the power
of Sanskrit and English,
if my mantra matters

in words at all.
Or if you get it where you get it;
and the meaningless of a line like—

sprigs move the shaft of a century’s beak
is not really postmodern, avant garde at all,
(derivation of “French and gay”).

But there is a point finally
and words do have meaning
contextually, to break us

and save us, très gay
flamboyant words,
theatrical and absurd words,

full of their sober enlightenments
before they get drunk
and leave us stranded at parties.
I just finished the 21-Days of Meditation Challenge with Oprah and Deepak Chopra.
Deepak K B May 2019
Tiring eyes, Dozing legs, cry
Where the heart, let you go and try
To spot every pleasing dawn makes mind fly

_Deepak K B
Silence! The voices stopped. The only sound I hear is the wind howling over the stones, the ancient building ruins, heaps ravaged by time punishes them as an invisible whip. Even the demons are silent now ...

I hear the most croaking frogs and even the sound of crickets filled the night with their songs. Rooster was. His voice was quiet for forty-two years. The only sound now is the voice synthesis of old hardware, metal head that red-eye placed on top of the old marble counter.

- Sir Water? - She asks - The radiation level is low today - finished. The same song sung once a week. The voices? They were silent. Demons are silent now.

Ahh! I wanted to hear the voice of the old rabbi, that white-bearded long peyos when he said to pay attention to the little voices, the voices of the humble, enlightened wanderers, sparks of mystical alphabet, warning humanity that the day would come when voices calariam.

There inside, the demons remain silent. Their voices were silenced by the voice of evil that planted residence in the left chamber of the heart of man the temple.

The ghetto is cold today. People gather around the fire lit inside the old barrel of oil, black blood, called him. It no longer exists. The veins are dry and the blood no longer runs more ...

The white spots covering skin. It should be a good sign, but it is not. Leprosy went devouring the souls of men, women and children. Neither the animals escaped. Contaminated are exiled. They send them to the valley of oblivion where the voice never will rise. They used maliciously. They slandered her. His calumnies were launched in the wind like the leaves of the old oak tree that stood in chaiim forest. He also stopped. The wind no longer howls more through its leafy branches.

Ahh! Where is the voice of the rabbi? He was dead by religious dogmatists. His bright sparks no longer crackle through the air. Even the demons no longer speak. They shut up inside.
Where are the voices of poems and poets? It is also silent. They were causing itching ears of humanity. They accused: - the mighty were the leaders of nations, with their palaces decorated with blood. Blood of the innocent. They made them shut. They caused itches to power the ears.

The gleam in his eyes blinded. It was in 2029 detonated the old Russian gun exchanged for a piece of bread to feed the starving children. All of them died with nuclear heat.

Silence! The voices stopped. The only sound I hear is the wind howling over the stones, the ancient building ruins, heaps ravaged by time punishes them as an invisible whip. Even the demons are silent now ...

Ah! Where is the voice of the old rabbi? I wanted to hear it now. She stopped. Even there inside there is silence now, even the demons whisper more ...*

By Deepak Sankara Veda (Misha'Ël Ha'Levi) Mystik Poet
Is poetry came from humanity's twilight dictated to me by a soul of the apocalyptic future of the world in february 2011.
Kelly Miller Mar 2014
It’s hard to be human in a world that rejects the concept of humanity.
We meet hostility before humility.
We fight over space, before we create it.
How many boxes can human minds create before we suffocate, cease to exist?
How does one perceive higher intelligence?
There is no measurement,
For intelligence is acceptance…
Accepting the things we cannot change,
For after all we are human.

Who is your maker?
We made ourselves, so they say.
So why can’t we change ourselves?
Why can’t the Deepak’s and the Oprah’s deal with the deep matters of the mind.
Still trying, defining, living our nearsighted visions
Falling haplessly into hyper realities
We enjoy short lived tales on the backs of constructed fallacies
Those who have eyes? Why can’t they see?

History is alive, when I live it inside of me

Yet there is still a "rock a tree and a river" Maya Angelou

It is possible, they teach us more than we wish to discern.
We are a fortunate species, not robots.
We can sit for years contemplating the obvious.
We can ask for answers when there already provided.
We can keep fighting the things we won’t win
We can still try to be ruler while we are being ruled
And still question humanity when we are human.

We could carefully plan or courses.
Peregrinate upon rich soil that we never laid.
Drink water from those rivers that we never made.
See beauty in things we didn’t design
Take fruits of the field, and make ourselves wine.

To be human, then, is quite strange

And if you never listened, never heard, never cried
Never seen, never thought, never tasted,
Never felt,
Then perhaps you are not.
Reflections of humanity
Deepak K B May 2019
Riding, Gliding in a flow,
Through the paths high and low,
Moving clouds on the blue,
Wandering beneath without clue.

To sneak at the peak,
listening to the crickets creek,
along with the buzzing winds,
riding through the uncovered mists

_Deepak K B
Deepak K B May 2019
Learn to look through the dark,
when there is no way,
the light will guide to move you far away.

_Deepak K B
Deepak K B May 2019
clearing my ways ahead,
just to find peace ☮ in a land,
when the dramatic world lacks its bond,
you to just behold and stand...
and up above the clear free sky,
wandering through the passing clouds nearby

_Deepak K B
“Removes the veil. Reveal to me the beauty of your beautiful ******* and your excited ******* filled with the desire to be caressed my lips. They are your secrets, your jewelry and your mystical treasures. Lifts the veil. Reveal to me your tree of knowledge, the entrance of your garden and allow me spoon with my tongue drops of Tal, your divine dew that drips from the leaves of your fig tree. Let me penetrate your garden, the orchard of celestial secrets with the stick of my miracles and feed me of Edenic sources of your *******. Lift up your veil and show me the beauty of your naked body and let me read the esoteric inscriptions on your golden skin, they are manifestations of your tattoos recorded in your soul, the light of mystic hieroglyphics of your spirit. Lifts the veil. Reveal to me the mystery of your mysteries giving me the wine of your vine and distills that drips from your sphinx. Removes the veil and reveal to me the entrance to the ethereal worlds of your soul, the portal to the world of emanation of your wonderful kisses, the sea of ​​your ******* on which my ship sails. Remove my veil, a curtain on my conscience and catapult it into the world of creation, the high land of your ******* which trickle milk and honey. Removes the veil …" .*

Light Walker - Deepak Sankara Veda - Mystik Poet
Your mouth is the Tara'a (תרעא), the Sentinel of Hall of the Mysteries and your lips are the Gate of the Palace of Love Palace, the chamber where they live all poetry.

Your kisses are consent to allow me to come in and read all the poems that God has written in your skin.

Your body is the temple of the Divine and I love contemplate you naked without veils that hide your attributes, the mysteries of your sensuality.

When, to my eyes see you naked , God is revealed in your nakedness and the heavens unveil all the mysteries, singing through your mouth, the Seraphim mystical songs loaded secrets of the Garden of Eden “*

Esotérika - The Mystic ****** Poetry Deepak Sankara Veda

Note: Tara'a (התרע'א) is a Aramaic term meaning "Opening - The passage from this world to the world of Heavenly Palaces (היכלות)”.

2) - The Watchtower (luminous creature) that guards the entrance to the Celestial Palace.
Traveler Apr 2016
Rungs on the ladder
Where my life began
I talked with God
I rarely sinned
Just a troubled child's
Imaginary friend
Yet I turned to God
The self comfort within

When I turned
Young man
I searched again
In every church and bible
To find my old friend
I searched at the Buddha
Zen and then Tao
Deepak Chopra
Wasn't my style

Science was my nightmare
It made perfect sense
So I turned to philosophy
Now I'm on the fence

Yet how could a young child
Ever have known
That all those miracles
Were mere tricks of the souls...
“Blowing on you my poems, the fiery breezes my Awakening, enflame you to burn me later in your flames, with your fire and your elightnent”.*

Esotérika - The Mystic ****** Poetry by Deepak Sankara Veda
"“I hear the voices of endless angels, when my eyes behold the beauty and sensuality of your wonderful lips. Your mouth tells me the ancient esoteric wisdom of the heavenly Academy and the ascended masters speak to me”.

By Light Walker - Deepak Sankara Veda - Mystik Poet for Esoterika (Book) - The Mystic ****** Poetry
"Fires in my soul the burning breeze that blows your lips. Your mouth is the creator of fiery angels, heavenly creatures made with the fire of your kisses, Serafim of prophecy whispering in my mind the codices of your moans, the secrets that God has written in your body. Your golden skin and a living scroll, papyrus noted the Angel of face.

Fires in my soul the burning breeze that blows your lips. I love your kisses, luminescent flowers in my Awakening desert".*

Esotérika - The Mystic ****** Poetry by Deepak Sankara Veda
“And there were no Angels that someday the sparks were not your thoughts, nor Angelic coaches that have not been created by your whispers, and the Comets who now behold the heavens were one night, the wonderful your kisses”.

By Light Walker - Deepak Sankara Veda - Mystik Poet for Esoterika - The Mystic ****** Poetry
I wish the revelation of your sacred sensuality, the sacredness of your magnificently body, the codices written in your skin. I wish the poetry of your lips on mine and the songs of your ******* in my mouth. I wish the wine distilling your vine and sweet liquor that drips from your mystical fig. My mouth want the fruits of your esoteric garden and my Escalibur want to put down at the entrance of your cave on the rock of your altar. You are my Holly Grail…“*

Esotérika - The Mystic ****** Poetry by Deepak Sankara Veda
"Honey drips from your beautiful lips, words enshrined in pure sweetness. Your whispers are combs and your ******* distill nectar of the heavenly mysteries, the Divine puzzles are the songs that emerge from your mouth. I love your moans, sphinxes who prophesy to their language, the language of the secrets of your soul is the angelic song, the Codex that your kisses wrote in my spirit; your Sapphire stone".*

Esoterika - The Mystic ****** Poetry of Deepak Sankara Veda
“Put your finger in your orchard within your secret garden and dance for me your esoteric dance, the revelations of your wisdom while doing drain the sap from your tree of life, the elixir that expands my consciousness, prolongs my life. Distills it into my mouth while sitting on my lips and gives me to drink your water of life. I wish you drink, feed me with the light of your ******* creators of miracles”.*

Light Walker - Deepak Sankara Veda - Mystik & Esoteric Poet for Esoterika - The Mystic ****** Poetry
NuurSeraph Jun 2014
“The highest levels of performance come to people who are centered, intuitive, creative, and reflective - people who know to see a problem as an opportunity.”

― Deepak Chopra

YEAH, JUST LIKE US POETRY PEOPLE, WE DO IT ALL THE TIME...WE WRITE IT DOWN, AND WORK IT OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We do ya know....Rock, Roll, Bleed, Toll, ya know how we do
I do not create your poetry. I read the Angels that your mouth creates, the Seraphim that emerge from your beautiful lips and who ride in Merkavah of your whispers in the Divine Chariot of your moans, the delight of my Awakening. Your body is the Sacred Field, seeded with bright grains that bloom bright Lotus. A stellar river flows from your esoteric garden and watering the shine of my soul. I’m Awake, and it was the angelic poetry that prophesied your beautiful lips that aroused me. I am your Buddha now, the Bodsattva of your wisdom, the guardian of codices whispering your mouth.*

Esotérika - The Mystic ****** Poetry by Deepak Sankara Veda
Deepak K B Jun 2018
Breathe, when every thing falls apart…
Breathe, when the world breaks you down…
Breathe, when soul ooze with happiness…
Breathe, you’ve got as of now passed this before…
Breathe, let go of everything that needs to go…
Breathe, the sign that you are still alive…

-Deepak K B
Delton Peele Mar 30
Macerating in an addictive lifestyle,
Low key, complacent.......
At least appear to be,
Meanwhile
proverbial metaphorical analogy
The epic  inner turmoil
A gurgling cauldron of turbid water laced with ecstacy,
tupac,poprocks
ipecac, and Deepak chopra on **** amphetamine,,,,
I'm in a padded room a straight jacket
A handful of Vaseline,
And the walls are covered with *******
This makes my feel bad
MMMMMMMMMMM-KAAaaayy!
My.. psyche........ c.r..a...c....king
½- time skrrrrrrt....
K WAIT!
Psychiatrist please.....,..
No WAIT WAIT WAIT!
That's me ........
Psychologist please.......
Ya no.......no I know I KNOW!!!!!
What is it?
????
Ok ok ok gulp............
Oh .>......,huh!.....
Ok that's better
In retrospect I suppose I could either
Exccaserbate or exfoliate and extrapolate
That these things and occurrences in which
I am not only forced to pause
But also
I'm givin cause to say........
I knew this was going to happen!!!!!
Is not clairvoyance or esp.
It's the innate ability to see I have limited control of these things
.......
Meaning I can choose whether not to cause them ,
At epicenter ,,,,,
And controll impact and reaction in the second wave,
Rarely third wave and nothing beyond to infinity
And it's after the fourth wave when
actions ,deeds,and words heard
Get filled and covered in embellishments
Picked up and slung by our enemies,
Become festering lesions on our character
For everyone but us to see.......
.......
..
Everybody's gota be so **** polite
Nobody says a **** thing........
Well not to you......
Not face to face.
No no no,,,
Not these days .....
Behind your back?
Oh they just can't wait?
Then they're all about it
Taking **** rumor mongers
Backbiting chiding frenemies
Slinging mud day and night!

— The End —