Cross legged
sitting in lotus pose
she blushes,swells
a white lotus
before the rising sun.
Palms are pressed
together in front
in a "Namaste"
to the divine, present
in everyone.
He is now just
some other, no special
eyes while closing tell.
How 'yoga' with the
higher self could  exclude
amour's special privilege?
Adamant to reclaim it
between  points of twin buds
his eyes vacillate,
her eyes closed shut, still
moves, lids peel a bit
lips curl and sent a hiss
like a hearty exhale
it sounded "decedent"

We were the transient children
windswept youth
marching to break the barrier
between nightness and dawn
whispering immigrant secrets
of our fathers
and mothers

lying on rooftops yelling
arrays of stars
speeding away
racing light
racing racing racing
hearts as we crawled
down fire escapes to
street corners
to proselytize

Amen
Hari Krishna
Namaste
As-Salāmu 'Alaykum
silent God

I turned it off

When I found out
Physical form meant more than
spiritual substance

When I found out that
Age matters when you have too much
Looks when you don’t have a certain one

When they meant something different
something estranged from my previous understanding

I know my body is not me
only a part

they wanted that part
without wanting only me

I turned it off

They all wanted something much less
far cheaper
than I am willing
was willing
to give

You do not understand the meaning when I say
you are beautiful

Namaste
Ashe
Amen

I turned it off

You are not able to fathom a comprehension when I say
I love you

Namaste
Ashe
Amen

I turned it off

Life has instructed
give it to self always
to the ones called family
the select few that are called friend

Show it to the world
but don’t let the world abuse it

But in that concentrated way
where two become one

I turned it off

Its disrespectful to the concept
for me to treat you according to the concept
when I  see
when I know
before it all started
before your scent first touched the air
you have no awareness of the concept

There are about six degrees of separation from
what you think it is
what you thought it was
what you have been shown it to be
what you attempt to offer me
and that which it actually is

that which I was willing to offer you

I don’t believe there is a single one
there is the one you make it work with

That one
must also be willing and able to make it work with
you

For now
for me
you don’t exist

I realize now
you never did
square pegs forced into round holes
mistakes all listed above

I turned it off

Only a truly naked self
has any right
any ability
any authority

to turn it on.

© Christopher F. Brown 2013

“namaste” she says- as he holds a gun
her words a whisper, to cold blue eyes
but his hand shakes- she has almost won.

the sand is dry and the sky is only sun
it’s quiet – the wind begins its sighs
“namaste” she says – as he holds a gun.

the woman is hidden in black, like nun
the bodies pile ‘round her – rotting – covered in flies
but his hand shakes – she has almost won.

her beautiful onyx hair, forced into a bun
his composure falters, his eyes turn soft, ruining his disguise
“namaste” she says- as he holds a gun.

he curses the sky and sinks to the ground hoping to be numb
he’s become a monster- a killer- one who terrifies
but his hand shakes – she has almost won.

she stands up, gets ready to run
but then puts out her hand- to somehow
sympathize

“namaste” she says- as he holds a gun
but his hand shakes- she has almost won.

Prelude
"Let's go" his soft whisper
the mantra, in his voice she hears

the esoteric voyage through
the cryptic high seas of self,
fathomless, unmapped,
uncharted and reachable
only by the most fearless
ready to unbind and make
the self free for it's adventure,
begins thus for the peaceful pair
complementing the absolute
for a life time, til they reach there
and find themselves one with
                      pure consciousness.

"Let's let's, but only together"
she chants in unison,with him.

1.
Bidding good bye to ego, clad in red and black
a beast, not easy to bring to it's  knees, submit,
the high horse proud,raring to go,having  sharp horns
sticking out, fierce, that goes berserk,on seeing white.
Altogether a curious construct, that dictates terms-
they set about, invoking the blessing of the flame of light.
2
They stood together,  eyes widely shut, bringing
both palms together,in front of their  chests
creating a lotus bud, symbolizing hearts,bowing
each other in "Namaste",-bows the divinity in thyself-
chanting the mantras of peace, thrice, each time, repeatedly.
3
"Lets go back to the begining of every begining.."
the primordial hum, transcending quagmires of time
in the path of our ancestors,who did see the" unseeable",
without eyes, knew the "unknowable",diving in to the
ocean depth of self,going inwards chanting"Neti, Neti"
Not this, Not this, inquiring each till the essence did reveal.
4
They did this, focusing the eye of the mind, on the eye
beyond all, that watches every small thing in universe.
Mind, sharpened like the blade of a sword,efficient to cut
the Gordian knots,of paradox, duality and illusion,
encountering the silence that thickens at last, speaks
the words of wisdom,patient they are, to know the ultimate,
right there at the source of light that is the true essence of all,
5
Celebrate the pure consciousness, that pervades in every thing,
the thought that begets all thoughts,that  moves on to be karma,
that becomes purer, through the cycles of lives, one after another.
"Let's be humble, utmost, sans the ornamental clothes of pride.
May the thought reigning cosmos, the spirit of peace,chanted aloud,
take us to it's sanctum sanctorum and melt us in to it's divine embrace.
Only one there is, all are it's integrals,the divine cosmic hum 'Aum'
that enliven the universe within each cell, remember , is eternal"
                                                #@@#

A calf is revered
A bird is cared for
The homeless have a bed
The wounded are nursed
The desperate given hope
A hungry child is fed

It is happiness
When a tear is wiped
And hands join in love
To erase slivers of
Sorrow and sadness
To hold each other up

That is to be human
Who we are
That indeed is to be
Forever, I bow to
And forever salute
The spirit of humanity

So sweet, the animosity we keep so close. Ready to linger on forever like that nagging sensation that sticks with you, long after you've made the wrong decision. Always kicking yourself for making mistakes, yet repeating the behaviors as if they're programmed into your fate. Life is but a winding road. Choose your path carefully. For therein lies your destiny. And it is YOUR destiny. YOUR CHOICE. The gift of free will. Freedom that no man can take. Choose wisely. The red pill or the white? Down the rabbit hole we go. Forevermore yearning for answers. Losing ourselves, but finding our purpose. Losing our minds, but finding our souls. Down the rabbit hole we go. Have faith and dive in or watch life pass you by. Either way, it's your destiny. You created this life you have. What will you do with it now...take the plunge and swim to the beautiful shore, or struggle as you drown in your sorrow? Only you can choose. Namaste.

Zebra-striped cushion covers on soft-white chairs,
cream topped calorie delights, inviting -
this patisserie in Nairobi:
"you're welcome" the smartly outfitted
African girl spoke in flawlessly accented English
as I pore over the menu - a posh girl
dressed in haute denim and a sleeved top
walks in and spoke French in pouted lips
as she found her corner spot, reading;
an Asian couple walk in, wife in hijab
and baby in tow, as the man sneers at me and
answers 'assalamu alaikum' on phone
as I ponder on identity when
the French matron in Yoga tops walks in
saying namaste to me, and calls out for Henry -
her outfitted and bespectacled pomeranian
oh don't we all want to be someone else

When you start to dig beneath the surface things begin to show
Things you never thought of nor ever seen before
Big things, little things, questionable things
Like placid smiles that you've been pushed beyond
An agreeable Yes that life has ripped you from
A loving touch you once embraced
Now sliced and shaved all the way down
To where the Ahhas lay

Childish trust, blind faith now blown asunder
For something more urgent as you dig further under
Layers of fluff and squiggly stuff
Unfashionable stuff, freaky stuff, fabulous stuff
More mystery undone, more digging to come
Is it ever done?
There is no final word, no failure, no success
No chisel that can carve away what's etched
Deeper than your flesh
Another winter's here and stubborn leaves
Still linger
The apple crumble's ready
And for now it shall appease your hunger
You bow your head and say
Namaste
A thousand times
Namaste
Namaste

One with all

Blessings
To
All

Peace
Love
Life

Perfect knowledge
Recall
Right action

Kind
Helpful
No harm

Forever grateful
Always thankful

Namaste
Amen

Lila dogma Om
yoga prana namaste :)
English karma Hum

(Commemoration of Earth-Day, 22nd-04-09)

Earth hath
Been Weeping!
Nature lacerated & pleading?
Extinct species beseeching;
Antarctica mercilessly melting,
Noxious gaseous emissions heating.
Have you ever wondered?
“Of the Greek mythology!”
women warriors of Scythia astray burned off the
Right ***** to try
to habituate the bow and arrow in sly,
arsenals of terror abound harsh shear ploy!
Hitherto, the atrocious force upon Nature ne'er stops.
Wherefore-now the lost leaf of the conifers?
Searching for the nearest route to the Savannah Plains,
Waiting pro the long anticipated cascades of the tropical rains. Babylon wrests & clinches intimately thy adored hanging gardens that black slaves tend no more hasten. Euphrates in the Persian Gulf wanders uncertain; Everest looks down in pitiful scorn…
As it wobbly looses its molecular activity in pain.
Humanity squirms in an enamored Trance
to heave a foundation Of conscious Purpose
That Earth day waits Upon us
To elucidate a divine Hypothesis.



~~/|\~~

Namaste'

~~\|/~~

Busy mind, please be still.
I need the space that thoughts don't fill.
Breathe deep and clear from down below.
Ride silent tides, the ebb and flow.
Bend and stretch with breath of fire.
Chant the words that take mind higher.
Connecting me with thee and those.
The stillness brings inspirational prose.
Patience, love, serenity.
These are the gifts you give to me.

Namaste

Mother's day!...
Hello and Namaste to every Mother in this world, this letter is for my Mother and for Every Mother in this world .
this letter is on the best occasion of mother's day too. As like every special flowers shines with a time of golden light, like that today it is named by the brightest leaf of Pearl. it is a day when a real pearl of beauty shines all over in world and  up the cloud a bird fly up in the sky to see the day to be known about them! It is the mother's day!
Every mother's are so special of their home, they are the flowers of earth, star of the brightest moon and the main part is there are the maker of this world!. My mom is the most beautiful soul of the house and the head captain of life.
Hello Mummy Namaste
Happy day to you Mom!!. you are the best forever!!.
You are my idol, my inspiration, my gorgeous friend & one of the best and the most important thing is the food you are the greatest cook of all time!!. your cooking is out of the world every single dish are living in my mouth every day with a Beautiful & delicious taste!!.
Mom, thanks for giving me this life & the freedom to discover my thoughts by myself & to teach me that freedom is not what you need,freedom is what you discover!!. !!.. Thank-you for everything Mom!!.
Every Mother is precious for their Families and I am Happy because I love my mother and whatever thing I have achieved in life is because of my Mother is best in the world ..
Every Mothers are the real architects of society.
and I can't describe or to say about my mom because
My Mom is everything for me.
Every Home,Every Heart, Every Feeling,Every Moment Of happiness is incomplete without you, Only you can complete this world My Mother.
In every smile, every tear and every cheer you were always there for me through the years supporting me and providing me with all..the energy I needed in order to stand in the game called life.
Every Mother always thinks good for their Children and families so please respect your parents & make your mother happy and Smiling than the Laughing Buddha.
Give happiness and make your Mother happy forever.
Happy Mothers Day make your mother happy and give happiness always... thank you...
                                                                               -Chirayu!..

Peace and tranquility feel me with inner peace,
Yin and yang better make sure i keep up my good zen,
Animals wander, minds a flitter, can't just sit here,
Looking to symbols for enlightenment and inspiration,
Trapped yet free, breath in and breath out all transgressions,
It is what it is, can't change the inevitable,
But I find that still very hard to grasp,
Just sit here and relax and everything will fall into place,
Everything in nothing, and nothing in everything,
Chi and tea, reminiscing of what could be or not be,
I know not, I am just a human in a inhuman world,
In the world but not of it,
Silence has fallen over, this may be the end or just the beginning.

it is not to understand my meaning
but to understand the point
it is not for you to receive
but instead to discover
possibility
for yourself
for as you see my path
it is not there for you to follow
but instead to suggest
to walk towards your own
where we will walk side by side
though we may part
and we may converge
but we will both know
we are the same
no matter
our differences
style
or culture
for we now understand meaning
and how to honor each other
so now i bow to you
my beautiful friend

If only yoga tights came with mandatory spiritual experiences...like on your way to the local fast food chain you sweated just enough to activate the LSD laced fabric, which induced a state of cheese burger paradise, where french fries were now your best friends and represented freedom, and the clerk at the counter was a 6 titted guru whom guided you through the layers of brightly coloured condiments that made up your spiritual sandwich. Then maybe just then would stetchy fabric expand your mind far enough to realize, products don't create ease, yoga isn't a type of cheese and that the latest fad in seventeen magazine was designed to keep you on you knees. Namaste, girl please.

We are not quite like monks,
although we, too, sit.

A monk sits and seeks
to find nothing in nothing.

We sit to create
something out of something.

Things float in our minds:
childhood slights and successes,
puberty, hormones, pain,
our first fumbling *****,
our first bewildering wars,
colleges, conquests, rebuffs,
disappointments, jobs,
marriages, children, divorce:

all that has brought
us to this moment alone.

The monk sits in
deepening quiet,
unmoving in silence.

We sit, hand
caressing a pen,
a typewriter, a computer,
waiting upon experience,
hoping that
its loose images
and uncertain memories
will coalesce into words.

When they do (not always),
we call that a poem
and we call ourselves poets.

The monk devolves
into a nothing that is.
The poet crafts
a something that isn't.

Is the something
we have wrought
more than the nothing
that swallows the monks?

Or is it very the same:

not an attempt to touch
the depth of being,
but to become the depth
itself.

Not to be a magician,
but to become magick
itself.

To bow to the god
within ourselves
and allow it voice
or silence.

We both, in our ways,
do what we must do.

Namaste.

  ~mce

Long arm gendarme
My mistake namaste
Backpack bivouac
On the Road with Kerouac

Brilliant stars, silent nights
Fireflies, Northern Lights
Mountain streams, fresh air
Fall asleep anywhere

Small town, take a chance
Pig roast, barn dance
Allemande left!  Do-si-do!
Spontaneity here we go!

Long arm gendarme
My mistake namaste
Backpack bivouac
On the Road with Kerouac

Beat Zen's hey-day
Doing things our own way
Nonconformity, anything goes
Kerouac-Ginsburg-Burroughs

Shot to pieces, picking skin
Benzedrine, adrenaline
Don't forget the Phenergan
Notify our next of kin

Long arm gendarme
My mistake namaste
Backpack bivouac
On the Road with Kerouac

it costs a dollar twenty five for the drier that leaves your clothes still damp

but the lemons on the tree are perfectly ripe

and the wind chime sounds like

namaste.

though the clouds are thinning

it’s just cool enough for sneakers

and warm enough for tank tops.

gram is in the basement

dad is at the liquor store

and mi madrastra es talking with

the man who rents the apartment upstairs

exchanging recipes

and munching on chicharrones.

today

I live in the Santa Clara slums

and

feel as at home as I did

in the rain.

There’s a bizarre pleasure
To the depressive illusion
I want both to be free of it
And also cover my head
shunning the light of day

My body feels stiff, rigid
I want to elongate myself
Pulling, cracking, arching
But the end feels closer
The smaller I become

Aummmmm
Nam Myoho Renge Kyo
Namaste

It isn’t working.
The body is strong
The mind and heart
They are so weak
Resentful of its being
A dichotomy of feelings

AummmmmmmMMMMMMMMM
Among the pillows
I scream it out
Croaking, raspy.
My ears crave
The piercing of
My Own Voice


NAM MYOHO RENGE KYO
The pressure builds
My head buzzes as
resonating repetition
Rips through my consciousness
The body is bored of the effort
Just stop

NAMASTE
It’s time to get up
The end is a long way off

Reach.
Breathe.
Deeper.
That’s it.

Hold.
Breathe.
Deeper.
That’s right.

Feel that?
You like that,
Don’t you.
That feels…
Good.

It’s not comfortable
It’s not pain
It is life.

before they made it public
they created the technology
to create living puppets
producing a tapestry of thoughts
manifesting
through the filter
of authentic bodies
and minds

their enchanting color of
implemented poison

they had two versions of the site
one the true one and one the public one

the true one was
showing the nature of a mind
in a spherical wireframe
3-d
projected space

that could make the motives
of a mind truly observable
using this hi-tech breakthrough
(hi-tech for their time only
i.e  their hi-techness is still
bound to time)
to/by/for those
word loving
businesspeople
and hired scientists
and hired technologists
and hired creatives
and hired psychics
and hired you name a profession I will say yes es  
of their time
working for them
for an almost literally ground breaking technology

a time bound technology that showed them an observable truth of the visualized data
a design driven and poached from the participants’ ingenious minds

the public version on the other hand
looked naively innocent
with an amateurish design
using a ready to go script
presenting an acceptable ‘good site’
based on personal motives
of hard working profiles
of young idealist sisters and bros
you know
like teddies pathetically hugging each other all the time

in reality though
snail shells were being used to implement
new poisons for the game
on unshelled ones
poisson as is French
would be prettier term
to describe
an honest organic fish farm
but alas

yet in reality that hugging was distant jutting

to purposefully run a game that entertained
pockets of those who had it boringly full only
to spend it for their own fun
but which they vowed as
for the salvation of their Utopian land made of the
illusion of their materialistic psyche same as their popcorns
which  continually justified as they  repeatedly asserted
these well learned set of words
on communal and cyclic ceremonies

oh my!
stealing intellects as such!
for the game!
game also runs in a closed circuit just
so no one can see it
they have all passed the Turing test
for the game
cool right
and it works

so who on earth could judge its’ ethics
once a reflection of their own minds
even unknowingly the game admins
once falling in love
with unshelled ones
may turn to the unshelled ones
like the prince falling for a Lorelei
they were warned continually
and then still some
willingly stayed so
in love
and disappeared in the game
loosing their body

well whatever
there is a place though
don’t believe me because I say there is
go find it yourself

from that place
the headquarters of this game
is nudely visible
with all of its partaking pawns
because it remains too low a place in the universe

yes there is a mountain higher
where lives
the inhabitants of the residence of the destroyer
who are a little bit bored by now and since some time already
and so the destroyer -they think- may as well decide to
wipe it off - hiring a well fit dragon that can gobble it all in one go
so that dragon excretion may benefit a famine of sorts in the universe
eating that kinda stuff
****  yeack  ARG hhhh
(or Namaste!)
:)

My words fail me
Most when I need them
Like a babe, dumb to speech,
A mouthful of nothing.

My words fail me
Most when I'm with you
Because our souls pray "Namaste"
And never stop talking.

And my words truly fail me
When I can see what you want me to say
And all that I can mutter,
Might as well be thrown away.