"puja" poems
Maa ki mamta ko dekh maut v
aage se hat jati hai
gar maa apmanit hoti
dharti ki chaati fat jaati hai
ghar ko pura jeevan dekar
bechari maa kya pati hai
rukha sukha kha leti hai
paani *** kar soo jati hai
Jo maa jaisi devi ghar ke
mandir me nahi rakh sakte hai
wo lakho punya bhale kar le
inshan nahi ban sakte hai
maa jisko v jal de-de
wo paudha sandal ban jata hai
maa ke charno ko chukar paani
Gangajal ban jata hai
Maa ke anchal ne yugo-yugo se
Bhagwano ko pala hai
maa ke charno me jannat hai
Girijaghar aur Shivala hai
Himgiri jaisi unchai hai
sagar jaisi gahrai hai
dunia me jitni khushboo hai
maa ke anchal se aaye hai
Maa kabira ki sakhi hai
maa tulsi ki chaupai hai
meerabai ki padawali
khusru ki amar rubai hai
maa angan ki tulsi jaisi
pawan bargad ki chaya hai
maa ved richao ki garima
maa mahakavya ki maya hai
Maa maansarovar mamta ka
maa gomukh ki unchai hai
maa parivaro ka sangam hai
maa rishto ki gahrai hai
maa hari dubh hai dharti ki
maa keshar wali kyari hai
maa ki upma kewal maa hai
maa har ghar ki phulwari hai
Saato sur nartan karte jab
koi maa lori gaati hai
maa jis roti ko chu leti hai
wo prasad ban jati hai
maa hasti hai to dharti ka
jarra-jarra muskata hai
dekho to dur kshtiz ambar
dharti ko sheesh jhukata hai
Mana mere ghar ki deewaro me
chanda si murat hai
par mere man ke mandir me
bas kewal maa ki murat hai
maa saraswati lakshmi durga
ansuya mariyam sita hai
maa pawanta me ramcharit
manas me bhagwat geeta hai
Amma teri har baat mujhe
vardaan se badhkar lagti hai
he Maa teri surat mujhko
bhagwan se badhkar lagti hai
saare teerath ke punya jaha
mai un charno me leta hu
jinke koi santan nahi
mai un maawo ka beta hu
Har ghar me Maa ki puja **
Aisa sankalp uthata hu
Mai dunia ki har maa ke
Charno me ye sheesh jhukata hu.....
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
did you know
that the
self effulgent light
of God it self
is **** shaped
as above so below
the inner revelation
******* above...light woven
*** hole below ...flesh woven
does this not infer
a magical operation
perhaps a hermetic
ritual of adoration
perhaps a puja
to the ****
with ornate
kaleidoscopic mandalas
replete with wrinkles
and folds
emerald toilet bowls
silk *** wipe
with full color florals
to be ingratiated
by **** art prints
and to be fussed over
and judged
by certified *******
clergy
then to cleanse
with fragrant ointments
that it may remain
unsullied by its
birthing labors
voluptuous
smoldering
fecundations
for purities sake
as god remains
free of limitation
it too
must remain
free of its forgetful
tarnished children
i build temple of ****
high above the people
the little *****
do they
even know
where they come from
how they may
devote themselves
to the grandeur
of the solar ****
and its bestowals
of clumpy torpedoes
the catechism
of the solar ****
to know
to adore
to prostrate
to proselytize
the glory of ****
to the
for corners
of the earth
to be faithful
unto it
to be obedient
and present
your *******
for ritual manicures
by the true initiates
the fussy
******* faeries
those who have
the secret knowledge
and remain true
to the lore
and precepts
set forth
of divine correspondences
to fully appreciate
its eminence
its glory
and have no
God before it
that mercy
will follow them
all the days
of there lives*
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
तत् त्वम् असि
*for sitar, mridangam, vina, musical spoons,
washboard, Jew’s harp and banjo*
(*the names Swami and Guru-ji can be replaced by
any other mystic names the reader wishes to substitute*)
Swami and Guru-ji went to the river
to wash their souls in the ***** water
filled brass pots while they were at it, singing:
“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”
Guru and Swami-ji flexed contortions
twisted minds and limbs in knots
sold each other secret mantras
to erase akashic records when the body rots
Swami and Guru-ji taught disciples
how to fast and hum and chant;
bound their ***** with priestly garments, saying
“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”
Guru and Swami-ji swallowed prana
purged their guts, then farted light
launched their chakras into oneness
in the ida and pingala of their third-eye sight
Swami and Guru-ji built a temple
around a monstrous calf of gold
bowed before the six-armed idols chanting
“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”
Guru and Swami-ji studied parchments
by the dim light of a feeble ray
railed and wailed at the sinful heathen
in the filthy Kali-yuga of the dying day
Swami and Guru-ji made ablutions
offered incense and holy foods
ate their share and smoked the profit, humming
“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”
Guru and Swami’s blissed devotions
entwined their members with the temple belles;
stuck their yonis up their lingams
in the twenty-seventh circle of the seven hells.
Swami and Guru-ji offered puja
wrote it all off as a karmic debt –
forced a shudra to bear the burden, screaming
“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”
Guru and Swami-ji meditated:
pure omniscience in eternal now –
drank fresh ***** from a heifer’s bladder
for they knew that it was soma from a holy cow.
Swami and the Guru merged with Brahman –
then went home to the wife and kids.
Told the servants to polish statues, saying
“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”
THE MORAL:
(slower solemn rhythm, no banjo or Jew’s harp)
Aaron’s calf is ground to powder,
cast upon the Ganges’ tide.
Every tribe shall taste its poison.
“This is God –worship Him, worship Him –
this is God – let us worship Him now…”
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
Swrgiding dwima dwisa
gaigra mai dubli
benw jwngni gami
Goi patwini bari
~
no no mai bakri
maihung **** mwswo goli
benw jwngni gami
gwmkangw magw-bwisagu
~
dwikorniprai dwi kaonai
nosim janjiyao paperna labwnai
benw jwngni gami
grwm grwm raijw janai
~
swrangsi swrangsi daola gesernai
hal huronlangnai
benw jwngni gami
hal kodaljwng abad maonai
-
bari kona kona mwigongni bari
lai lapa baidi mulani
benw jwngni gami
angkal gwiya megong taigongni
~
mandir girja bathou puja
switw jwngni sibisali
benw jwngni gami
goi taijow kantal bari mungni.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
Naked and fierce,
Burning with anger,
Stands the Goddess,
Great is her hunger.
Machete in her hands,
Slashing at her will,
She knows no bounds,
And runs around to ****
She can't recognise,
Sinner or saint,
In her mission to **** the evils,
She has lost her restraint.
And then she steps on something,
What is it? She looks below,
To her horror she finds her Lord,
Supine, lying beneath her toe.
Great is her shame at what she sees,
In her great fury she had spared none,
It needed Lord Shiva to stop her rage,
She bites her tongue at what she has done.
And thus we know the great Maa Kali,
Ashamed, repentant for being blindly furious
She stands for the two sides in ourselves,
With the good trying to rule the evil in us.
So every year we worship her,
Each year we pay her our homages,
And this is how "Kali Puja",
Goes on and on for ages.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Before we read or speak or rest further,
you owe promise to a favor–
I want you to walk directly out of your door
during the most lucid scene of day,
or the most haunting moment of inner-night
Walk until your feet come to a
sudden
instinctive
halt
Listen to clamor, or
whatever surrounds you
Lift all volumes of your
puja
quietude
as a psalm
Focus on humanities scrapings
or the long graceful stroke of
matriarchal firman in her most
peculiar
stage
of cankered innocence
Lecture the calamity of her fictionless plot and
digest what the spiritually deaf cannot, and allow it to
find what triggers you the hardest
what
gouges
the prompts threadbare
It may be the indifferent hiss of cars passing
and it may be the expression plastering the jaw
of all of that unprocessed energy
ambling
on
by
It may even be the weather spilt
from her majesties
archaic entrails
Something will eventually do you in
but it ultimately
takes practice at varying degrees
I've done it when I was awake
I've done it in dreams
Either way
there's more mirrored in fragmented cohesion
than it
quite often
seems
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
Kala malam sudah semakin gelap
Sinar bintang mulai berbinar
Kepala terangkat membelalak langit yang kian lungai berkedip kedip
Ada malam yang aku rasa masih terang karena lampu taman
Gelap masih sembunyi berselisih paham dengan cahaya listrik
Ada senja juga yang kadang sulit kutemukan
Jujur saja, sangat langka akhir akhir ini
Sungguh jarang aku melihat jingganya yang begitu matang bergelora bersama langit
Begitu indah
Ada juga pagi yang aku bayangkan udara bersih dan putih
Namun, kau tahu bukan.
Sudah ada asap yang bermunculan berselih juga dengan kabut
Aku juga berfikir itu kabut
Nyatanya asap sampah pinggir jalan
Sunggu pilu..
Jadi, apa yang bisa kamu bayangkan dari pengandaian itu?
Tidak semua hal yang katanya begitu akan jadi begitu
Tidak semua tanya akan dijawab benar
Tidak semua hal yang kau bayangkan sesuai ekspetasi dan bayanganmu
Setinggi galaksi bima saktipun kau bermimpi jika memangtuhan tidak mengiyakan
Ya.. sudah
Apa boleh buat
Cari
Cari pertanyaan yang lain yang mampu dijawab
Yang tak akan membuatmu kecewa
Yang bisa kau perlihatkan
Yang bisa kau puja
(Santunan malam selasa)
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
Ravi gratefully settled down on the cottage bed. It seemed
like centuries since he had slept in an actual bed. Up to now
he’d slept outside and on the thinly carpeted floor of a
Buddhist temple.
In fact, Ravi was very thankful to be alive after suffering
a serious stroke and subsequent amnesia for almost 3 years.
He was discovered sleeping on the steps of a Hindu temple
by a kind priest, named Swami Krishna.
After several inquiries, Ravi was finally given refuge by
a compassionate monk at a local Buddhist temple in Melbourne.
When my hubby David and I first met Ravi there was
an instant connection.
His humble, soft spoken nature touched our
souls as he shared his heart wrenching story. During the
period of his stroke, he lost almost everything,
most of his possessions, his wife and his memory.
Wandering the streets of Melbourne desolate and
forsaken by man, he was never forsaken by God.
It was a beautiful night, stars shimmered above the
colossal golden Buddha statue. As Ravi related his story,
David offered to help him recover his life. We all prayed
fervently to Lord Ganesh to remove all obstacles on his path.
In the coming months, Ravi and David were able to piece
together the fragments of his shattered life.
Marvelously, Ravi was also able to connect with his
parents in India who had not heard from their only son
in three years! Imagine the relief, joy and
ecstasy when they heard his familiar voice.
The other day we invited Ravi to our house for lunch.
Entering the puja room, we made sure to offer
thankful prayers to Lord Ganesh. The huge photograph
of Sai Avatar illumining the puja room smiled benevolently
at our precious guest.
Ravi chuckled almost tearfully when he told me he had
finally gotten his own bed. He recalled in the past how
he had purchased a $4000 bed for his ex-wife and
now he was so blissfully grateful for this simple cot.
As I reflected on Ravi’s story I thought to myself how
unpredictable life is. Wealth, property, spouses,
everything in this world is subject to change and loss.
It is so important to wake up from this
long, arduous dream and embrace the beautiful,
golden, eternal kiss of God and realize who we are now.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
Aquí, desde este muro,
mirando el mar abierto,
siento de pronto el descontento oscuro
de un buque abandonado que envejece en el puerto.
Aquí el ancla se aferra,
pero el velamen pugna por volar;
aquí comienza el mar para el que está en tierra,
pero aquí el mar termina, para el que está el mar.
Y por eso quizás amo este muro
sobre el que salta a veces el oleaje;
este muro que mira hacia el futuro
con la esperanza de emprender un viaje...
Amo este puerto claro,
y este Morro que puja su montaña,
y el giratorio resplandor del faro,
única luz que supo dar España...
Y amo el manso canal de entrada angosta,
que hasta sus arrecifes se conmueve,
cuando, a todo lo largo de la costa,
retiembla el cañonazo de las nueve.
Amo este puerto de hálitos salobres,
con un gran muro que parece chico
para el coloquio de los novios pobres
y para los bostezos del matrimonio rico.
Amo este puerto femenino y macho,
con su agua honda y su emoción sencilla,
igual que la mirada de un muchacho
que remienda sus redes en la orilla;
o como la sonrisa del marino
de idioma gutural y vacilante pierna,
que nadie ha de saber de dónde vino,
pero que siempre va hacia la taberna;
como esos buques de actitud mendiga,
mugriento casco y remendadas lonas,
tan llenos de humildad y de fatiga,
que, sin saber por qué, nos parecen personas.
Amo este puerto, donde tantas veces
el ciclón antillano frenaba sus embates,
entre el súbito brillo de los peces
y la esbelta blancura de los yates.
Y amo los botes lentos,
de remo largo y corta travesía,
con las maderas llenas de lamentos,
donde viajan de noche los amores de un día...
Amo este puerto, donde las gaviotas
hacen su nido en las arboladuras,
respirando fragancias de las islas remotas
donde no llegarían sus alas inseguras.
Y amo este puerto, abierto
derechamente al mar, igual que un río,
que en su dormida paz está despierto
y en su cálido amparo siente frío,
porque mi corazón también es como un puerto
que poco a poco se quedó vacío...
920
Dham kur kur, Dham kur kur
Playing the drum of worship
Upon the arrival of the Goddess
Everyone is chanting.
Children, young and old
Singing various songs
In the pile of tam-tams, the drums
With increased solidarity.
Goddess came on horseback
The Goddess will return with swing
Let the happiness be with her heart
Let everyone's mind be filled with hope.
The worship is going from the monastery to monastery
Worshiping the Goddess
Come on in the happiness and peace
Sprinkle light on the earth.
Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 8:56 PM UTC
Kembali lagi terluka
Terluka karena sebuah kata bernama cinta
Ini bukan kisah cinta dan rangga
Ini kisahku bersama dia yang ku puja
Ku#love #hurt painrang setia apa aku padanya
Melirik makhluk lain pun aku tak pernah
Kurang setia apa aku padanya
Dia marah aku tak pernah bantah
Lalu dia buat diriku semena-mena
Apa ini yang dia katakan cinta?
Apa ini yang dia katakan takkan mendua?
Apa ini yang dia katakan menjaga janji kita?
Aku hanya bisa menahan
Membungkam segala kekecewaan
Menyimpan segala kesedihan
Menutupi segala penderitaan
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
I'll meet you at the footbridge of my heart
Beloved Sai Krishna
Sleep has abandoned me
Amrit is flowing
my heart too full
white moon comes in sweet waves
Lotus blossoms open shyly
Silver swans glide past peacocks robed
in mermaid blue
Chitta Chora
We'll light puja lamps and set them afloat
like a million twinkling stars
on the Ganges
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
Swami~
The Ocean cast garlands of pearls
at your Lotus Feet
Varuna the Sea god knelt in awe
I stand in that vast azure temple
surrounded by a choir of waves
all singing Your divine name
while the morning sun performs arathi
the earth and all its inhabitants bow
robed in light
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
dear mr. president do
you know
timothy & bao
ikram & erhard
puja & timon
folami & leonardo
shannon & kavi
kenzō & shaquille
meklit & aleksej
gabriela & hugo?
they all work hard to
make a living
honor diversity america
has been a great team
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 12:22 PM UTC
Om Sai Ram
This afternoon I had a wonderful astral experience. I have been regularly chanting God's name as part of my spiritual practice. Lately, I have intensified the practice and seen excellent results. My life has been remarkably peaceful, problems are easily resolved and I am enjoying a definite nearness and spiritual closeness to God.
On numerous occasions while sitting at the computer or in the prayer room, clouds of incredibly sweet aromatic fragrance have enveloped me, causing me to run to the garden to see if the jasmine was in bloom. The scent turned out to be ethereal.
I have also been experiencing clairaudient sounds. At certain sensitive times I can distinctly hear sublime music and singing.
Then, this afternoon David and I decided to do a spiritual exercise and meditation. After the meditation I took a nap in the puja (prayer) room. My meditation seat can open up into a neat little bed. Shortly, I drifted off in the blessed and tranquil vibrations that saturate this room.
As I approached the borderline state I could hear David in the other room talking on the phone. Then the door opened and David came into the prayer room. As he looked in on me, I thought, well this is peculiar I can still hear him talking on the phone in the other room. David gazed at me and said, "I have to cover the little plants in here because it is raining." There were little tiny plants lining the tables. I watched as he tenderly and carefully covered the plants. Again, curiously I could still hear David talking in the other room.
To read more please paste the link:
http://www.sairapture.com/the-mysterious-double-astral-body.html
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
Our annual
Puja- worship days are here!
We worship a goddess
Who kills an evil demon
And spreads prosperity.
In India
This worship goes on
For ten days
With drumbeats
And sweetmeats.
In America
Indians congregate
And pray to the goddess
For several days...
May the goddess
Spread joy
Throughout the world
May she **** the demon
And once again
Let humans prosper!
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
Swami Krishna's eyes flashed
lightning bolts illumining his round, brahmin
raincloud colored face.
Igniting logs in the huge fire pit
for our ancestral puja
he chanted ancient vedic hymns,
it was a beautiful offering on
this venerable Sunday morning.
Rites for remembering ancestors
is a tradition in many cultures,
not so much in the west.
Swami Krishna elaborated on its
importance:
We thank them for the good,
for laying the groundwork and support of
our lineage.
We remember them with
love and gratitude,
he stated, wrapping the yellow and red
priestly shawl closer to his body.
Strong, musky, acrid, odor of wood burning
stung our nostrils
one by one, ritualistically we added
ghee, incense sticks, flowers, herbs
and rice to the auspicious serpentine
flames
I could sense my mother near
spicy whiff of curry and channel no. 5
mixing with clouds of smoke
A secret door slowly opened in the heavens
as a procession of ghostly relatives
took their place around the blazing havan
It was almost high noon
and Surya, the Sun God
halted His brilliant chariot
driven by 7 rainbow hued horses
Hovering mid-air over our holy gathering
He raised His Golden Hands in Blessing
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
Great Buddha it's
Asalha Puja day and
It's time for the blessings
And protection and I pray
And I feel you're spiritual wisdom inside my mind and body and
I'll bring good fortune
And benefit to our nation
And to our loyal people and Lord Buddha your love has made me become brighter and stronger and may we all attain perfect peace from your everlasting peace and love in life.
Jul 8, 2024
Jul 8, 2024 at 6:50 AM UTC
"These days you are not at home, Somu,
The rooms seem blackened like a dying dumb ghost,
dead and deaf like an ageless planet, you see.
The walls breathe silence,
like flowers which bend with the rain,
And, I twist and age with time like grapes of wrath.
Dear somu, I saw you in the photo, on Facebook dear boy,
To be honest you have become fat, like your mother when she was six,
Eat less cheese and burgers and cream, to fix these things,
Try veggies and salads to make you look thin.
I am storing up some money, this year,
To send you some sweets,
During puja, we had fried chicken and fish kebabs and rolls,
I made it as you liked it, a bit saucy with corn flour and chickpeas and all,
Next time when you come, I would make it again"
Read the letter,
Signed, Your grandma Mini.
Somu, as known as Somnath at his college, MIT to be honest you see.
A good student and an economist to be soon,
Somu is told to be the young Stiglitz,
Who gets a bit sentimental at certain gloomy afternoons.
But this letter came to him last Monday, at work,
He couldn't read it properly as being busy is the way to look more and a bit more, tough and sharp.
And as he came home today at nine,
Like whiskey and lemon and contradictions which never seem to rhyme-
came another Telephone at around ten,
Informing the youngster about the death of one of his grandparents.
"This is Baba, Your Mini is no more,
Today at six, we found her collapsed at and over the toilet floor,
Come home as soon as you can..."
And He was Still holding the letter,
helplessly within the shivering thrills of his cold and goofy tired hands.
It was 11 at night and he was reading the letter once more,
He was all but telling to himself-"this must be a dream to be sure..."
He was thinking about so many things at a pace,
And he felt about the world that he brought his Mini some disgrace.
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 3:45 PM UTC
#*The alien who is among you shall rise higher and higher above you,
and you shall come down lower and lower.
He shall lend to you, but you shall not lend to him;
he shall be the head, and you shall be the tail*.
Deuteronomy 28:43
Doctor Prasad, Doctor Prasad
You bow to a freaky six-armed god,
Yet chose to leave your native land
And worship in the U.S.A.
Your Hindu religion is rather odd—
Consider my verse a gentle ****
Those molten idols creep me out;
I'll poke you in a truthful way.
This newly-discovered Upanishad
With trident (in place of Aaron's rod)
Will show you where you need to go.
And greater light to you relay.
You bow to idols, silly sod...
I'll stomp your arrogance roughshod.
Eat the puja that you offer—
***** rupees to the dollar.
What a ridiculous façade.
You mumble, then politely nod—
Data-driven petty tyrant:
Drink from my verse's fire hydrant.
May 5, 2024
May 5, 2024 at 1:10 PM UTC