Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
RAJ NANDY Feb 2015
AN INTRODUCTION TO INDIAN ART IN VERSE  
By Raj Nandy : Part One

INTRODUCTION
Background :
The India subcontinent and her diverse physical features,
influenced her dynamic history, religion, and culture!
The fertile basin of the Sapta-Sindu Rivers* cradled one of
world’s most ancient civilization, (seven rivers)
Contemporary to the Sumerians and the Egyptians, popularly
known as the Indus Valley Civilization!
The Sindu (Indus), Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi, Sutlej, Bias, along
with the sacred river Saraswati, shaped India’s early History;
Where once flourished the urban settlements of Harappa and
Mohenjodaro, which lay buried for several centuries;
For our archaeologists and scholars to unravel their many
secrets and hidden mysteries!
Modern scholars refer to it as ‘Indus-Saraswati Civilization’;
By interpreting the text of the Rig Veda which mentions
eclipses, equinoxes, and other astronomical conjunctions,
They date the origin of the Vedas as earlier as 3000 BC;
Thereby lifting the fog which shrouds Ancient History! +
(+ Two broad schools of thoughts prevail; Max Mullar refers
to 1500 BC as the date for origin of the Vedas, but modern scientific findings point to a much earlier date for their Oral composition and
their long oral tradition!)

On the banks of the sacred Saraswati River the holy sages
did once meditate, *
When their third eye opened, as all earthly bonds they did
transcend !
From their lips flowed the sacred chants of the Vedas, as
they sang the creator Brahma’s unending praise!
These Vedic chants and incantations survived many
centuries of an oral tradition,
When Indian Art began to blossom into exotic flowers like
Brahma’s divine manifestations;
With all subsequent art forms following the model of
Brahma’s manifold creations!
The Vedas got written down during the later Vedic Age
with commentaries and interpolations,
And remain as India’s indigenous composition, forming a
part of her sacred religious tradition! *
(
Rig Veda the oldest, had hymns in praise of the creator;
Yajur Veda spelled the ritual procedures; Sama Veda sets
the hymns for melodious chanting, & is the source of seven
notes of music; Artha Veda had hymns for warding off evil
& hardship, giving us a glimpse of early Vedic life.)

IMPACT OF FOREIGN INVASIONS:
Through the winding Khyber Pass cutting through the rugged
Hindu Kush Range,
Came the Persians, Greeks, Muslims, the Moguls, and many
bounty hunters storming through north-western frontier gate;
Consisting of varied racial groups and cultures, they entered
India’s fertile alluvial plains!
Therefore, while tracing 5000 years of Art Story, one cannot
divorce Art from India’s exotic cultural history.
From the Cave Art of Bhimbetka, to the dancing girl of Harappa,
To the frescoes and the evocative figures of Ajanta and Ellora;
Many marvelous and exquisitely carved temples of the South,
And Muslim and Mogul architecture and frescoes along with
India’s rich Folk Art, enriched her artistic heritage no doubt!
Yet for a long time Indian Art had been the least known of
the Oriental Arts,
Perhaps because from Western point of view it was difficult
to understand the spirit behind Indian Art!
For Indian Art is at once aesthetic and sensual, also passionate,
symbolic, and spiritual !
It both celebrates and denies the individual’s love of life,
where free instinct with rigid reason combine !
These contradictory elements are found side by side due to
her culturally mixed conditions, as I had earlier mentioned!
Now, if we add to this the constant religious exaltation,
With the extensive use of symbolic presentation, from the
early days of Indian civilization;
We have the basic elements of an Art, which has gradually
aroused the interest of Western Civilization!

The further we get back in time, we only begin to find,
That religion, philosophy, art and architecture,
Had all merged into an unified whole to form India’s
composite culture!
But while moving forward in time, we once again find,
That art, architecture, music, poetry and dance, all begin to
gradually emerge, with their separate identities,
Where Indian Art is seen as a rich mosaic of cultural diversity!

(NOTES:-In the ancient days, the Saraswati River flowed from the Siwalik Range of Hills (foothills of the Himalayas) between Sutlej & the Yamuna rivers, through the present day Rann of Kutch into the Arabian Sea, when Rajasthan was a fertile place! Indus settlements like Kalibangan, Banawalli, Ganwaiwala, were situated on the banks of Sarsawati River, which was longer than the Indus & ran parallel, and is mentioned around50 times in the Rig Veda! Scientists say that due to tectonic plate movements, and climatic changes, Saraswati dried up around 1700BC ! The people settled there shifted east and the south, during the course of history! Some of those Indo-Aryan speaking people were already settled there, & others joined later. Max Muller’s theory of an Aryan Invasion which destroyed the Indus Valley Civilization during 1500BC, supported by Colonial Rulers, was subsequently proved wrong ! Indo-Aryans were a Language group of the Indo- European
Language Family, & not a racial group as mistaken by Max Mullar! Therefore Dr.Romila Thapar calls it a gradual migration, & not an invasion! The Vedas were indigenous composition of India. However, they got compiled & written down for the first time with commentaries, at a much later date! I have maintained this position since it has been proved by modern scholars scientifically!)

SYMBOLISM IN INDIAN ART
From the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic to the Cretan Bull
of Greece,
Symbols have conveyed ideas and messages, fulfilling
artistic needs.
The ‘Da Vinci Code’ speaks of Leonardo’s art works as
symbolic subterfuge with encrypted messages for a secret
society!
While Indian art is replete with many sacred symbols to
attract good fortune, for the benefit of the community!
The symbols of the Dot or ‘Bindu’, the Lotus, the Trident,
the Conch shell, the sign and chant of ‘OM’, are all sacred
and divine;
For at the root of Indian artistic symbolism lies the Indian
concept of Time!
The West tends to think of time as a dynamic process which
is forward moving and linear;
Commencing with the ‘Big Bang’, moving towards a ‘Big
Crunch’, when ‘there shall be no more time’, or a state of
total inertia !
Indian art and sculpture is influenced by the cyclic concept
of time unfolding a series of ages or ‘yugas’;
Where creation, destruction and recreation, becomes a
dynamic and an unending phenomena!
This has been artistically and symbolically expressed in the
figure of Shiva-Nataraja’s cosmic dance,
Which portrays the entire kinetic universe in a state of
eternal flux!
The hour-glass drum in Nataraja’s right hand symbolizes
all creation;
Fire in his left hand the cyclic time frame of destruction!
The raised third hand is in a gesture of infinite benediction;
And the fourth hand pointing to his upraised foot shows the
path of liberation!

It was easier to teach the vast untutored population through
symbols, images, and paintings in the form of Art;
For a picture is more effective than a thousand words!
The Dot or ‘bindu’ becomes the focus for meditation,
Where the mental energies are focused on a single point of
creation,
As seen in the cotemporary art works of SH Raza’s
artistic representations!
Yet the same dot when expanded as a circle becomes
wholeness and infinity;
The shape of celestial bodies of the cyclic universe in its
creativity!
The Lotus seen in many sculptures, on temple walls, and
majestic columns, denotes purity;
A symbol of non-attachment rising above the muddy waters,
retaining its pristine color and beauty!
The Lotus is a powerful and transformational symbol in
Buddhist Art,
Where pink lotus is for height of enlightenment, blue for
wisdom, white for spiritual perfection, and the red lotus
symbolizing the heart!
This Lotus symbol also finds a place in Mughal sculptural
carvings and miniatures;
The inverted lotus dome resting on its petals, forms the
crown of Taj Mahal’s white marble architecture!
The trident or ‘trishul’ symbolizes the three god-heads
Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva;
As the Creator, Preserver and Destroyer, in that cyclic
chain which goes on forever!
The ***** stone of Shiva-lingam surrounded by the oval
female yoni symbolizes fertility and creation,
Usually found in the inner sanctuary of Hindu temples!
Finally, the symbol of ‘OM’ and its vibrating sound,
Echoes the primordial vibrations with which space and
time abounds!
All matter comes from energy vibrations manifesting
cosmic creation;
Also symbolized in Einstein’s famous matter-energy equation!
The Conch Shell a gift of the sea when blown, sounds the
ancient primordial vibration of ‘OM’!
It’s hallowed auspicious sound accompanies marriage
ceremonies and rituals whenever occasion demands;
And pacifies mother earth during Shiva-Nataraja’s sudden
seismic dance! (earthquakes)
Dear readers the symbols mentioned here are very few,
Mainly to curb the length, while I pay Indian Art my
artistic due!

A BRIEF COMPARISON OF ART:
Despite the many foreign influences which entered India
through the Khyber and Bholan pass,
India displayed marvelous adaptability and resilience, in
the development of her indigenous Art!
The aesthetic objectivity of Western Art was replaced by
the Indian vision of spiritual subjectivity,
For the transitory world around was only a ‘Maya’ or an
Illusion,- lacking material reality!
Therefore life-like representation was not always the aim
of Indian art,
But to lift that veil and reveal the life of the spirit, - was
the objective from the very start!
Egyptian funerary art was more occupied with after-life
and death;
While the Greeks portrayed youthful vigor and idealized
beauty, celebrating the joys of life instead!
The proud Roman Emperors to outshine their predecessors
erected even bigger statues, monuments, and columns
draped in glory;
Only in the long run to drain the Roman treasury, - a sad
downfall story!
Indian art gradually evolved over centuries with elements
both religious and secular,
As seen from the period of King Chandragupta Maurya,
Who defeated the Greek Seleucus, to carve out the first
united Indian Empire ! (app. 322 BC)

SECULAR AND SPIRITUAL FUSION IN ART:
Ancient Indian ‘stupas’
and temples were not like churches
or synagogues purely spiritual and religious,
But were cultural centers depicting secular images which
were also non-religious!
The Buddhist ‘stupa’ at Amravati (1stcentury BC), and the
gateways at Sanchi (1stcentury AD), display wealth of carvings
from the life of Buddha;
Also warriors on horseback, royal procession, trader’s caravans,
farmers with produce, - all secular by far!
Indian temples from the 8th Century AD onwards depicted
images of musicians, dancers, acrobats and romantic couples,
along with a variety of Deities;
But after 10th Century ****** themes began to make their mark
with depiction of sensuality!
Sensuality and ****** interaction in temples of Khajuraho and
Konarak has been displayed without inhibition;
As Tantric ideas on compatibility of human sexuality with
human spirituality, fused into artistic depictions!
Religion got based on a healthy and egalitarian acceptance
of all activities without ****** starvation;
For the emotional health and well-being of society, without
hypocritical denial or inhibition!
(’Stupas’= originated from ancient burial mounds, later became devotional Buddhist sites with holy relics, & external decorative gateways and carvings!)

KHJURAHO TEMPLE COMPLEX (950 - 1040 AD) :
Was built by the Chandela Rajputs in Central India,
When Khajuraho, the land of the moon gods, was the first
capital city of the Chandelas!
****** art covers ten percent of the temple sculptures,
Where both Hindu and Jain temples were built in the north-Indian
Nagara style of Architecture.
Out of the 85 temples only 22 have stood the vagaries of time,
Where a perfect fusion of aesthetic elegance and evocative
Kama-Sutra like ****** sculptural brilliance, - dazzle the eyes!

KONARAK SUN TEMPLE OF ORISSA - EAST COAST:
From the Khajuraho temple of love, we now move to the
Konark temple of *** in stones - as art!
Built around 1250 AD in the form of a temple mounted on
a huge cosmic chariot for the Sun God;
With twelve pairs of stone-carved wheels pulled by seven
galloping horses, symbolizing the passage of time under
the Solar God !
Seven horses for each day of the week, pulls the chariot
east wards towards dawn;
With twelve pairs of wheels representing the twelve calendar
months, as each cyclic day ushers in a new morn !
The friezes above and below the chariot wheels show military
processions, with elephants and hunting scenes;
Celebrating the victory of King Narasimhadeva-I over the
invading Muslims!
The ****** art and voluptuous carvings symbolizes aesthetic
bliss when uniting with the divine;
Following yogic postures and breathing techniques, which
Tantric Art alone defines!
(
Both Khjuraho & Konark temples were re-discovered by the
British, & are now World Heritage Sites!)

Artistic invention followed the model of cosmic creation;
Ancient Vedic tradition visualized the spirit of a joyous
self-offering with chants and incantations!
The world was understood to be a structured arrangement
of five elements of earth, water, fire, air, and ethereal space;
Where each element brought forth a distinct art-expression
with artistic grace!
Element of Sculpture was earth, Painting the fluidity of water,
Dance was transformative fire, Music flowed through the air,
and Poetry vibrated in ethereal space!

CONCLUDING INTRODUCTION TO INDIAN ART:

Indian Art is like a prism with many dazzling facets,
I have only introduced the subject with its symbolism,
- without covering its complete assets!
After my Part Three on ‘Etruscan and Roman Art’,
Christian and Byzantine Art was to follow;
But following request from my few poet friends I have
postponed it for the morrow!
Traditional Indian Art survives through its sculptures,
architecture, paintings and folk art, ever evolving with
the passing of time and age;
Influenced by Buddhist, Jain, Muslim, Mogul, and many
indigenous art forms, enriching India’s cultural heritage!
While the art of our modern times constitutes a separate
Contemporary phase !
The juxtaposition of certain concepts and forms might
have appeared a bit intriguing,
But the spiritual content and symbolism in art answers
our basic artistic seeking!
The other aspects of Indian Art I plan to cover at a later
date,
Hope you liked my Introduction, being posted after
almost forty days!
ALL COPY RIGHTS ARE WITH RAJ NANDY
E-Mail: rajnandy21@yahoo.
    FEW COMMENTS BY POETS ON 'POETFREAK.COM' :-
I have a vicarious pleasure going through your historical journey of Indian art! Thanks for sharing this here! 2 Mar 2013 by Ramesh T A | Reply

The prism of Indian Art is indeed has myriads of facets and is an awesome mixture of many influences some of which you list here so clearly - a very understandable presentation of symbolism too - -thank you for your fine effort Raj. 2 Mar 2013 by Fay Slimm | Reply

Oh what an interesting read with immense information capturing every single detail. You painted this piece of art with utmost care. Truly, it's works Raj…tfs 2 Mar 2013 by John Thomas Tharayil | Reply

First, I have to say, the part about the lotus symbolism reminds me – My name ‘NILOTPAL’ can be split into ‘NIL’ meaning BLUE and ‘UTPAL’ meaning LOTUS. So my name represents wisdom (although it contradicts ME.. LOL). A lot of things were mentioned in the veda and other ancient Indian texts that were way ahead of the time Like the idea of ‘velocity of light’ got considerable mention in the rig veda-Sahan bhasya, ‘Elliptical order of planets, ‘Black holes’ , although these are the scientific aspects. The emphasis on contradictory elements or even the idea of opposites in Indian art is interesting because India developed the mathematical concept of ‘Zero’ and ‘infinity’. Hard to believe Rajasthan was a fertile place but now it possesses its own beauty. It was great to read about the Natraja, ‘OM’ and the trident(Trishul). Among symbolisms, Lord Ganseha is my favorite because a lot is portrayed in that one image like the MOOSHIK representing
When I composed the History of Western Art in Verse & posted the series on 'Poetfreak.com', few Indian poet friends requested me to compose on Indian Art separately. I am posting part one of my composition here for those who may like to know about Indian Art. Thanks & best wishes, -Raj
Solent in Expiationem Animarum

Saint John the Apostle says: “Zefián, the computer of the Duoverse of the Verthian world, indicates the order of his creation of the world, according to the transcendental plant living matter, in the interstices of time itself that exists within sidereal time. Noting that matter and time, is governed by all mythological beings in a compartment with monotheism, will be defined by atavistic laws, which are the deity of the intense hiding place of procreation, endowing great contextual residences, for habitat and a world in which larger non-residential scales, which go from passerby between the lines of time, and cosmological phenomena, which in the Duoverse face vicissitudes of the stars and their physicality added to the arcs of memory and emotions. Thus the main task of how the structure of experience surpasses consciousness, to novelize the orthogonal movements of the Universe, but in a Vernarthian world with great explorations of matter, which are quantified and volatilized in the field of its ethereal existence. The laws will be governed by your Zefian computer, describing codes that will verify the fulfillment of pivots in the reactions of the universe, but with refractions when reasoning about the consummate phenomenon. Starting from here in the experienced biology that will overcome the laws of physics, since its value is above the limits that allow the bold line of gravity that bounces in the lines of time, and its distances promoting more discretion when resisting threats. of a possible tiring case, a product of some relative dominance not included in all worlds with each other, in some case that does not rescue us from loss of links of some omitted sidereal reminiscence, attracting us to a universe governed by hemicycles of merely material particles, and not existential biological ones. The dimensions emerge from the beginning of the same universe, but more delayed from the interval and the second limit of the space that rests, to inaugurate the one that comes. Being the orbit of translation twice rotating towards the sun, but nth times rotating on itself, to go out to another stellar dimension not present. Its geometry will be from the intendancy of the resumption of Cinnabar in Tsambika and Helleniká, to later cancel each other out, making their integration in Patmos, on the coast of Skalá, with curvatures that validate the nullity of successive expirations of material lives, between spiritual expirations alive.


Duoverso is born and will be reborn, every time the years are subject to the loss of everything quantifiable and not, under the light that will be lit on all the darkness, Zefián being, in paronymy in which they lack to appropriate the support and merit of to have it absorbed in the tabernacle of Vas Auric, in the privilege of nothingness itself and nobody, adding itself in what is preserved of the physical support of itself. For just sidereal speed, in which it will have to travel on its same axis of rotating time on itself, in paradoxical of the One-dimensional Beams, these coexisting with the same low and high universes, reconverted into angelic vital luminances, creating orbits and optics in the visions of Christian temporality. By empowering them to enable them in the overexcited that derive disorders of intermittency of memory and physics of time, to reinsert themselves in the sequence that inhabits the residual of the speed of the Beam, as a Theo-Philosophical entity, of cellular multiplicity or cells of seasonality. of retrograde times, for the independence of temporality, under the regime of the past made up of an unbelievable yesterday. Overcoming the conserved immediacy of conviction in the One-dimensional Beams (Kafersesuh), it is observed denser when every mortal admits to being due to integrating and later brooding, dissecting organic matter into inorganic matter, suspended in the richness of a world of Faith and Prayer, of the most anti-gregarious desert and lost in the world, but supported by hollow walls, which do not exist in Vernarthian emotional matter.

The movements being physical, they take us on conjectured layers to discern their magnitude, emphasizing the rigor of their measurement on us, instead, the ambivalence of Zefian, delivers in both chromatic the Dark and White Duoverse, under the reference of the behavioral alternations of the Diospyros, source of the arboreal, for the procreation granted in the hands of Leiak. Relying on this equational exercise, with less time to design for its genealogy, but rather on its apocalypse, reinstalled in abolished primary unknown spaces, to have it once again in the light of consciousness, recognized as an inert matter of the past, but living off the immanent eternity of nebulae that personalize the earring of the Caltrop, taking temporality, but not snatching any hand to tear it from his own.

Vernarth says: “In the rhetoric of the Universe-Duoverse theorem, it is worth noting the past with entity, present and future also, connected to the time of Verthian inspiration, Holderlin-Heidegger, on issues of physical habitability, as a complement to the entity, which anticipates the present/future in the vicinity of death in the past and future, but tangentially in lively whims of existentialism-mortality, for a way of being rented out at death, as a way of being, dwelling in death itself and in the act of embodiment having existed, but with its own mandate after having been rented. The Vernarthian World appears in this current, prolonging existence from non-existence, granting complementarity of more past existence, before an unlived death. Ontologically, This theory stems from the One-Dimensional Beams of Kafersesuh, in Ein Karem. Essentially Christian, as the matrix of existence between Ein Karem (Nativity of the Messiah) and Gethsemane, as an interconnection of materiality in metaphysical reflections, a product of the immaterial of life not lived, as an urgent sacrilegious death, and of the anticipated dimension of the life process- death-life of Christian Messianism.

Vernarth says: "with the slaves in my disparate hands, one picked up what the other was carrying. With my right hand, I took the Duoverso, and with the other my porter; I held my reins on the maxims of Elpenor, before falling to the cliff. One naughty day but with the worst pain in my chest, I went to see him in his room, and I structured him as an immortal, at the time of forming the world, "knowing not even being part of an identity" favoring him to be part of me. combustion and ignition due to the friction of the Universe on the Duoverse. Such was that fearlessness and affordability that it decorated me with unexpected tears of belonging by imprisoning me with superfluous boastfulness. But his courage will be mine, and he will have to anticipate being in the middle of grace, as in Gaugamela wounding my two hearts, one deleterious and the other not..., verbatim saying:

Says the Carrier: “I have to agree to your mandate my lord Vernarth, I have arranged my emetic knights to take him to the empyrean, more remote at nightfall. I know that my own death will also take him, for we are double lives loving death, which falls on a night given to the seventh Falangist soldier. In the midst of souls already disheartened by the misfortune of life, in the figure of eternal death that refuses to receive us discouraged "

Vernarth says: "I do not know if I am or will be brave, because I have forgotten to die, rather I do not know what it is ?, but in the midst of the horses and the hosts of the block, from the anvil of Gaugamela that I have not felt it again..., which is death after feeling my hands and legs severed, but not felt when appropriating some amputee. I know that among the Hypaspists we used umpteenth arrows to mobilize their war apparatus 665, but from the wasteland jump we gathered the delirium of the Falangist command in the Seleucid 666 row, rather detached from every man, in a substantial way in favor of the Alexandrian life, "Of course he was already in the hands of eternity, which hurts more than the tip of an arrow, even being unfaithful to his mortality"

and not in the Universe chained to its fractality, rather of its present-present of the new universe for those who make it negative of itself, towards a clone and neatness, granting it recklessness, who continues to sweep its entity, its dimension, its space, the distances, the matter to receive it in their being. Vernarth, besieges the discursive thinking, under the tides of the tenements and the fears of late emotionality, changing to all the best heroics of the follow and all the experiences of harassing flat lights of the target, in the necropolis that speak resurrected, not being chimera in the best leisure districts live, but immortal of a district..., with steps to constitutive slogans of "succumbed cities, but..., with eternity", connoting after all abolished transference, in eternity present between two beings of mortal rank, the Carrier and Vernarth, Vernarth and Heidegger, but here the last one bringing him the closest radiogram between expiration and eternity, with significant death (End and chaos) and eternity (creation), in the limbo-purgation ratio, as the source of the potion. His total contention and affinity in Heidegger's dialectic, passing through a moment that marks his reincarnation, in the rambling of finite eternity, moving away from Vernarthian ontological and metaphysical reasoning. It was attached magnetic in the Universe, feverish kiss in ambitions of the temporal Being, as substantial of perpetual objectivity towards the unworthy survivor of the Vernarthian theories. So far no similarity is compared to whoever wants it or not, it is part of any estimate or spreadsheet of a complex Duoverse, Within the emerging frontis of progeny, there are ranks derived towards the first to form compound swaths of shelters in the Camels Gigas, who from Jerusalem escorted them with their plantar consciences to Ein Karem, then returning to Gethsemane, to finish in the port of Jaffa. Originally arranged by the children of Israel and the strongholds; Vernarth, Saint John the Apostle, Eurydice, Raeder, and Petrobus with animality, Etréstles, and Kanti, to finally mention King David, who goes to his catafalque before leaving for Jaffa, to return winds to Patmos. Of this primogeniture, the legatee is Vernarth, being presented as co-first-born by giving his portion to Saint John the Apostle, for trust assets of the benefit of a third party for both, and granting the patriarchal and reimbursement to each of his inheritances, being of expeditious aim the liberation of the world that lodged them not authentically in the mediocrity of ascendant ancestors. This prerogative will be decisive to define the dimension of the Duoverse and the One-dimensional Beams as consanguinity, simultaneous nascent and mortal worldview, to radiate them in the beams that support the universe, and from this same, they are transferred to the vision of child-man, child-cherub., for the purpose of defining the Universe-Duoverse physically composed of four areas of its consistency. Time, Being, Divinity and the Four Wings of the Cherubim, as a concept of biodiversity in Lepidoptera, Bumblebees, Bees, Wasps, and Fireflies as tetra-winged animal entities, originating the warnings and impositions in cardinals and poles of their primogeniture, rising from chaos, up to now as mandatory Duoverso, constituting the alpha world, rising of the Animalia and the intermediate visions of the heights that guide the material essences of the imperishable spiritual elemental and structural physics. Being ineffable matter, in the stars that prostrate itself, before each pause of advent and of creations that ****** other creative flashes, in pursuit of a gnoseological doctrine, as a slavish instant, ending in another for the study of the meaning of conceiving in the diligently part of a new world, on the borders of the unknown and of repelled nothingness, suspecting itself in the living artery of nihilistic nothingness, without leaning towards nonexistence that endorses it, or perhaps from a twin Duoverso univitelino in the chaos of unfertilized nature..., rather empowered to the first heir by the law of the Messiah district. Allow yourself, in this way, in the face of this premise and history, to continue and be part of an establishing whole, looking for God in a new world and universe as well..., but shaking before the nothingness that sustains it, as a basic knowledge of value and of immobile Faith. The hypothesis Prosapy-Centric, defines blood lineage unifying the Duoverso as follows:

a)Eternal Existentialism:

He talks about how compassionate creation is and its factotum, that it will be better that way. At the entrance to the Vernarth mouth, within its buccal cubic meters, the Zig Zag Universe, the promoter that caused the Duoverse, broke out. Here your thoughts of eternity are born; not from your brain and discernment, psyche or mind. It exists in a present that will be distributed without end or beginning, in the holistic of the anticipated existence of the being itself, so that everything holistically arises from the mouth of Vernarth, becoming the light of his luminance-ejector thought, being in some way the Zigzag universe that emerges from the outgoing access of its mouth and that manifests itself in some change of quantum physics in a state of hyper-connectivity and always present. The Zig Zag, coexists in eclectic variability of angles, creating regularities in its time and displacement. For the sake of results and translational parallelism as a promoter of the Duoverse, based on the holistic that brings together the effect of the word-fact, but eminently aimed at the morphology of extra language of intellect, rather in the kinetics of the language of human zigzag and physical-material, typical in various line segments of lightning and space storms, resembling his lost and bleeding soul in full battle at the site of Arbela. The other meaning is his salvation from the Council of Patmos, being already Installed in the Eclectic and invisible portal of the Evangelist of Saint John, levitating in his sacred basaltic cavern in Katapausis, in the Patmos archipelago (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Chapter 16 / page 114. Editorial Palibrio- USA). They would find themselves in communion with the archaean clan, which would resemble its proper ectoplasm; thus each one forming a unique part in the masonry dictated to redirect them towards their messianic labors at this stage of the ascension. Vernarth; is aware that he will have to enter the cave, after having ceased his work on standby for three months. He continues to fester in myriad wars and parapsychological regressions, he will remain in a daze to dedicate himself to the beautiful landscapes open towards a horizon..., a neighbor to Palaeolithic and astronomical painting. In the flashes of mathematical prayer, you will capture the spiritual intensity that inspired Saint John to build the temple near his cave of the Apocalypse on the island of Patmos. The saint appears only on certain days looking at him from afar to encourage him in his progress..., Portal Eclectic and invisible is the facet of the face of light, after the invisible that manages to be appreciated with the principle of transferring its connectivity of the immaterial with the material, but done in the finished quality of "Merciful", deriving everything in what supports the splendor of the facts and their objective analysis, by no means the same, because the Zigzag universe, originates theory or thoughts from the perspective of external language and integrally unites it through the optimal results, always imponderable and categorical to follow them and attract them to eternal spiritual good. Being exhaustive of the fact of action, although it is subdivided into executability..., it will continue to be timeless, therefore eternal, in the hands of a universe of thick eternity and stationary death.

The final communion of Zig Zag with the Duoverse, will make this key momentum to replace the Universe of the former Vernarthian world, for inflections of the continuous present, more in the distance of the limits that have to originate than by a simple gesturing stupidity of disbelief, abounding more than a universe that is created in eternity, and that will never again resurface as a physical dimension. The successive potentiality of this theory of holism subtracts actions and not facts, since it always culminates in the limit of infinity, always beginning and never-ending, to then restart in a present that is reintegrated into the access of the oropharyngeal and non-cerebral embouchure, since it has of limiting itself in its shock and subsequent confusion of language-emotion and feeling, to change all eternal emotion, always going hand in hand with the unequivocal and assertive light,

b) Being Universal multi-evocation:

Over Rhodes the auroras could be seen retreating, to attract the new luminances crossing between the atmospheres of the ancient worlds, with stars that were ordered among others, descending at great speed from the Universe, fascinating all Greece, coming from celestial bodies that brought from great Relative distances and proximity between the Duoverso and its satellite widening, allowing to grant subsistence, and routes to the nascent species of the Vernarthian sub-mythology. The Sabbath energy Light is overbreathed repair; here Saint John the Apostle influences through the conduit of the Cinnabar towards the Light of the Mashiach, with the intemperance of life on drops of crystallized water as gifts of Taphoric Light, with synoptic signs of transformation of all the green grass growing like a beard on the slopes of the Willows, where Saint John the Apostle goes back to prayer prayers; so such in repetitive sentences and prayers towards the Universe, which were falling as it was on Mount Tabor in the Transfiguration. All this in the fervor of the willow chins that fell from the galaxies, with their cascades one after another in orderly colophons of fervor making the sky a great source of Moshaic and Elijah voices. (Moses and Elijah) to Christianize the holy oils of the radiant glory of the Universe that was complemented by the Heliac Ortho that was appreciated in different coefficients according to this new position of the parameter of Greece, observed from the Constellation of Pisces, being symbolized as piece as SOS, since Eratosthenes tells us about the fish that saved Derceto (Goddess of Assyrian mythology), after falling into a large lagoon. Seeing therefore in the sky as Fum Al Samakah, Arabic for “snout of the fish” (or Fomalhaut star from the Greek translation). Pisces being bright and of the great dimension to mold it as a whole iris, which was rooted from the formal pelagic accent, towards a spectral affinity of the Duoverse, like leaves of Willow temperatures, on the reflection of the Multi-evocation. For antithetical referendum of the Pleiades between light-years that diminish behind the stars of the magnetic field and its exo-planet. It is necessary to consider that in the wisdom of God, there would be his ordering conscience, on each constellation, and then detach itself before each other that guards each one in centuries of light-years, and in each one of the children as light-years of millions, but of numerical present time quantum; that is to say, all translation on average over ups and downs of spatiality and in remote ages, to zero or from null numerals in the integrality of millions of non-existent light-years, but accumulated and equidistant between the Universal Being and Multi-evocation. An example of cartographic observation shows us Greece at Latitude 39.074208 and Longitude 21.824312, influencing the Duoverse as a complement to the rise of Greece with the latitude of the Heliac Ortho, being Sirius eleven days after the Ekadashi and eleven days before the other at 10 °, Maximizing the light herbalism of the unconscious, to systematize the rise of the Universe imbuing Greece. Refulgent and small electromagnetic systems, led by the Divinity, are freeing themselves of all the units that bind in the minimal Units that can expand with the apostolic energy, rather than a trans-human receiver, in blocks of circulation of waves, related to a Defined spatiality, divine and with its own energy of opening of small worlds of provision of light, and radiation emitted by the deleterious convex of invisible essences in properties that are released from overflowing stagnations of creation, and from the skylights that are more distant than the wavelengths than from a breath of Demiourgy in the chemistry of all multidimensional hyper-existential between frequencies of energy widely displaceable by lines of how many..., in static energy of rest. Ultra colors intensify on the coasts of Rhodes, as a sulfur photoelectric effect of Cinnabar, formalizing mechanics in those sedimentary particles, which undulate in anticipation of the precise amalgamation of both universes, evolving towards the matrix of origin of physical and non-biological state and period, but of eternal divine inspiration, from the mouths of Vernarth, as a resurrected Being electro vigorous, dwelling spacious and sinuosities of curvature and psychic spiraling, The Vernarthian nature will call this phenomenon the Son, since it is the similarity of the halo in the Taphoric Light and in its effect of the baptismal of this Christian Universe called Duoverse, in accordance with the presence of Saint John the Apostle light, among the attending raptor niveous. strangers, arrival-departure and between the nebula of pendency in the nimbus gaseous clouds of fields that mutually heard each other recognizing each other..., leaving only Saint John the Apostle in the perfection of the sky as a universal and Duoversal shadow, first of all being of light being baptized, crucified and risen-ascended, in the metaphysical transfer of his body, as a universal body, as a quantum point between the earth and the sky, between the universe and the Duoverse as a complement of gaseous and spiritual atmospheric earth. Ministering in the judicious and prophetic occlusion, being a juridical part among the myriad bundles of Constellar Pisces that supported the transfigured and converted prophets, before a brand new universe, "Duoverso", witness to the amazement at the proximity of the multi-evoked Universal Being.

c) Reflection space (Light-matter)

The Duoverse having been pulled from its entrails from Vernarth's mouth, and objectual free fall is noticed after disengaging from the quantum Universe, rather than an elusive cacophony that unfolds separated from their bodies in all dimensions, except Vernarthian time, Alluding to the stoning him so that he ignores himself in agony and returns to look for him to revive him as Space-Light, in the presence of matter reflected from himself, which will unfold throughout the Hellenic Panagias, from Kímolos to Tsambika, to make the curves the direct passage that once again bends time towards a fragmented dimensionality. Barefoot was the apostle with Vernarth in the three quarters of the axioms and algorithms, where the conceptuality would overcome the low calculation of what was already ministered by them. Creating space for lapses in dreams of the Stairs, with steps of Topaz, in this particular case of Saint John the Apostle, "seeing open skies and angels of God go up and down on the son of man." Here some sidereal Solar gleams are illuminated that have nights for a sunny day, Vernarth resting on the side of the Monastery with a stone on its head and dozing to dream like Etréstles in the Hexagonal Baptistery of the Shepherds in Ein Karem, but of the compact sweetness of the famous luminous Cinnabar ascending vertically where the Yahvic Being, who was presented to him as the Abrahamic patriarchate nexus. Endowing him with celestial dreams about stones that inherit west and east towards the north noon, in space of hallucinations of Jacob's subconscious, for the satisfaction of the luminous pictorial ligament. Thus, a timid but decisive reflex pointer of space and reflection is detected, which includes fragments of spectrum and tonalities of a machine unconscious, to raise the Duoverse in a depressive day of the scathing moment.

d) Physical energy (molecular entropy)

From the bases of Theoskepasti, the physical system emerged in two sums after the movements of the pendular censers that exceed the elliptical of the Cinnabar and the potential of the ejectable force field, for ductility of its forces that emanated from the triad with the archpriest, helping him Etréstles and Kanti, who would take them to the Hellenika Necropolis. They make of their golden bodies the ephemeral speed mechanized in the originality of the homily system, to break in the guardian friction of the gravitational axial of the body of Light of the cinnabar, which received the sulfur kinetics of the defective organic matter that was wrapped in a bizarre alloy of sulfur light, and in all the forces gathered, not rubbing with the cinnabar obelisk, already invaded by the energy that made it superficial, between the shell of the Panagia Theoskepasti covering and the strange normality that made them physical-organic. No scrubbing would continue the movement of the fleeting angle of the anvil of Hephaestus, but the static on the surface, lay unchanged before the forces of the back and forth of the molecules that sank late, shooting from the pendular area of his bowl and then starting with full power for new angles that will take advantage of the mechanics of the forge and the friction clean and **** before the joint, and the resistance of the reactivation of the second period of the movement, to forward them to Tsambika in the response signal. Quantifying later between the inferiority and the intangible shock reaction in the light radiosities of the cinnabar re imparted towards Rhodes, forming resistance, but with immanent entropy, with a high degree of fineness, in such a way that once the conservation rays are fired, the response to Rhodes will come from Kímolos with the particles and combustions of sulfurous gas and mercury, generating entropy of two quantum and physical times between the Dodecanese and Cyclades, knowing that the inert matter is inactivated alive, thus envisioning the contingent presence of iron in the geology of both islands, with more than eighty percent, and of gravitating oxygen for the Vas Auric and its materialization, as a ****** impression reducing its physical dimension and enlarging its water content in pelagic beings of the Aegean. This would suggest the homogeneity of both island territories, appease the conception of substitutions that frolic from north to south, to break their normal balance, depleting what is island land towards oceanic land. In this way they will be mixed entropically for a new generation of fertile life that balances in chaos, already in the hands of Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth, in the main nave of the Monastery that seemed to oscillate atomized and vanished, but then atomically restructured, slyly dividing the canons of traditional entropy, and making it disproportionate to the biodiversity ordering of the sterile and the fertile, reordering itself as a mutable force excluding the reality of act-effect, invested in the integrity of life-death-life, as a molecular target in a double physical dimensional unit, making the prospective universe by splitting from any other format, to become another and another physical dimension. Universe-Duoverse, they shake like two spheres, almost joining each other, but separating into heterogeneous classics, as a panegyric, under the invocation of Conviction and Faith. The universes self-recomposed and redistribute themselves before our eyes, but before the consistent devotion of this homily, it makes them astonishing and phenomenal (everything that happens is recomposed - if the tree fractures, but then it straightens re-fractured, before our eyes being recomposed). Thus the chaos of the Universe is resolved, appropriating a new sequence of continuous creation, starting from the same creative property, but of molecular entropy, almost in adverse defect, but of constriction of the yielded body, to be incorporated into the Cinnabar beam of light. dynamic, generating ignition at the ends of each part of the structure obelisk, in order to release and stimulate on the absorbent..., of the Hexagonal Birthright in Tsambika,

e) One-Dimensional Beams

From the hexagon, everything is dimensioned on the peaks that can be seen in the starry nights from the curved kilometers of Bethlehem. Everything goes on top of the desert mountains and valleys, above the vagaries of climatic heights, and landslides of an entire believing community and its followers. In twelve advancing camels, of which the first six are exclusive to the Birthright, and then the seventh Giga camel is from King David of Bethlehem.

The beams are the architectural support portion of the physical-ethereal God and of his ethereal-physical word, supposedly of advent in grazing of the hardwoods, and the secret anomalies of a new Aramaic message, anticipating the vigor of insects and birds that were grouped together. in the journey that goes back and forth. The Beams are stars of heaven sustained by the Cherubim and the Archangels, through the paths of conversion and the support of the Christian time; haughty and implacable hegemony for the propaedeutic of phylogeny, but more on the very chemistry of creation carrying its winged Lepidoptera tetra, pheromones, and the obfuscation of an elemental nascent child in his own evangelical philosophy from an inter-sword dimensionality, and of the gloom of a manger shouted Kafersesuh, before compendiums of two pyramidal landmarks of inflection of his word in created animals, in the affinities of the world and the Animalia, personalizing shepherds carriers of pollinations, totalizing the generational of the language that is concealed so far, as well as the turns in the musks, and their legitimacies from the Baptistery of the Shepherds in Ein Karem, parabolizing their nomenclature and Polygonia of a child made man, already coexisting! but representing himself as a lifeless man in the fullness of a child of a distinguished canon. and his legitimacies of the Baptistery of the Shepherds in Ein Karem, already coexist! but representing himself as a lifeless man in the fullness of a child of a distinguished canon, that followed him towards the superlative moment of the bending near him, twisting and changing squeezable pressure in the cords that forged his path, towards the cornices and trusses of the upper celestial vault, where the shed of doubts was next to the Cherubs. Giving mechanics to the prism that arched the beams in the horizontal lines, taking them towards the amplitude of other lines, which remained solid before the variation, suspecting mutating to one of sudden two-dimensionality. The sections of the timber framework, which looked fatigued before the primary classification, which showed the attitude of the little Messiah, taking out effulgence from its beams, and rolling on other pillars, postponing the vectors of the tangential, contributing bits in rhomboid specialties, that blurred the cylinders of amplitude and field of vision of all those who remained in their nativity. Making diametrical glances so as not to be distracted and adore him with a broad and rectilinear heart, in transversal visualizing for all, the one-dimensional crossed wood, which in its geometry schematized letters and numbers of kabbalah, which differ in dissimilar resistance of Christic ambivalence, as a forerunner of martyrdom. on the wooden cobblestone of Golgotha. This presaged capacities to read them in the Torah and Zohar, gathering everything in a whole, in those vivid tormenting lapses that he felt in advance, as reversible entropy, turning their substance to prepare them for the day of an abolished martyrdom. Making diametrical glances so as not to be distracted and adore him with a broad and rectilinear heart, in transversal visualizing for all, the one-dimensional crossed wood, which in its geometry schematized letters and numbers of kabbalah, which differ in dissimilar resistance to Christic ambivalence, like the anticipation of martyrdom on the wooden cobblestone of Golgotha. This presaged capacities to read them in the Torah and Zohar, gathering everything in a whole, in those vivid tormenting lapses that he felt in advance, as reversible entropy, turning their substance to prepare them for the day of an abolished martyrdom. which differ in dissimilar resistance to Christic ambivalence, like the anticipation of martyrdom on the wooden cobblestone of Golgotha? This presaged capacities to read them in the Torah and Zohar, gathering everything in a whole, in those vivid tormenting lapses that he felt in advance, as reversible entropy, turning their substance to prepare them for the day of an abolished martyrdom, pigeonholed him towards a pre-existing Hellenistic aspect in characteristics of patronage as a representative figure of a male, and a lady of Ptolemaic Egypt in great iconic religiosity, coexisting as a priestess of a female order in the Greek protocols with him. Becoming inseparable in the preeminence of mother and son, as unilateral gender, and of substantial element for the social and political order that reigned in the ancient era. Laying here the unilateral gender indispensable for the social and political order, which is substantiated at the dawn of the empires of all the time, and the patriarchal society? Symbolically Joshua in this cogitabundant providence, adds the feminine value in the society in the Kafersesuh's outlet of the Judah manger, dispensing mainly to women, A great Zohar light, gathered all towards a whole in those errors that Joshua felt in advance, as reversible entropy, giving back his wise existence to prepare them for the day of his sacrifice. Pre Existing in catharsis and substance of divinity connected with the phylogenetic species, classifying up to an Aramaic pontificate of pheromones settled in the lithospheric site of Gethsemane, in a biological sense and in close coincidence in lapse wading, or the phenomenological simultaneity of Eukaryota and Glaucophyta until late Animalia, giving relation parental in characters of the vibrational timbre of the Beams, and its atavistic pedestal, readapting in evolutionary ellipticals of winged tetra species. Allowing to change the ancestral linguistic accouterments in processes of redesigning the divine genetic historical tree and increasing anomalies in the human earthly culture, and not human anthropomorphic in a reviving profanity of fruitive frequency amplitudes, for those who resort to it, monopolizing and synchronous in diachronicity of their specimens. The lights of Joshua's gazes are the Light of Christian Life and Time, in the entity of Joshua born and bloodless from the nature of Child-Man, but of mortal design in the same compulsion to see the luminescence of life in the manger Kafersesuh and only incorporeal unity. Being in exemption from Ego with its structure of living child and dead man, he rushes rebellious and ostentatious in the architecture of the One-dimensional Beams, yielding the glimpse of the aforementioned progenitor "Eye versus Eye", seeing himself like this..., son hovering in the arteries of a Universal-Duoversal life, from a single dimension of cyclical one-dimensional length, encompassing conjecture and biological, the symbolic-allegorical conception of extreme co-divinity, as an exclusive precept of the delicate infinity of the Being of a Messiah, with paraphrases or glosses of Aramaic exegetical affinity, tracing from a linguistic period. Here are the contortions of the Olive Tree Berna, transfigured into everlasting orality and refractory syllable, to incubate eternal rabbinic gifts of perpetual reluctance, beyond the reach of the ego-annihilating will and of apathetic, inert ultra-affections and of miraculous phenomena.

f) Hexagonal Birthright

Civilization has an arched inflection in its regency at the head of the favorable family caste in the blessing, whose hiding place will have to be entrusted to a clan, having to make inquiries that formerly only related to consanguineal minorities from the same family trunk, thus protecting the pantries and accessories in warfare to consolidate the economy, and invigorate its commercial coffers. The land would be and would be an essential partition insignia for the legitimate transmission of epochs and inter-seasons, which received them from its descendants for representation of geomorphological heraldry, given in its regional condition. In the noise of the seventh seal, heaven was silent for half an hour and the seven angels stood before God, and they gave seven trumpets, the other is to appear in front of the altar with a golden censer, to compile it in other prayers in all the saints, on the golden altar that was in front of and in front of the throne - And from the hand of the angel the smoke from the incense with the prayers of the saints - And the angel took the censer, and filled it with the fire of the altar, and threw it to the earth; and there was thunder, and voices, and lightning, and an earthquake - And the seven angels who had the seven trumpets got ready to blow them - The first angel sounded the trumpet, and there was hail and fire mixed with blood, which were thrown upon the earth ; and a third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up - The second angel sounded the trumpet, and like a great mountain burning with fire it was hurled into the sea; and a third of the sea was turned to blood - And a third of the living creatures that were in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed - The third angel sounded the trumpet, and a great star fell from heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell on a third of the rivers, and on the springs of the waters - And the name of the star is Wormwood. And the third part of the waters became wormwood, and many men died because of those waters because they became bitter - The fourth angel sounded the trumpet, and the third part of the sun, and the third part of the moon, and the third part of the stars were smitten, so that a third of them would be dark, and there would be no light in the third part of the day, and also at night - And I looked, and I heard an angel fly through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice: !!

"Being in six instants at the Golden Gate of Jerusalem with Saint John the Apostle, they reordered the majority for a protected subordination in the minor family descended from the eldest son, for the purpose of sustaining them to reach the possession of their theological morphology, in this door, being the only one that will remain closed…, until the second coming of the Messiah. The scheme of the camelids in their osteometry tells us that their heads before Advent! Distorted their calypso lights on the surface of their skeletons, locking the jaws of other camelids, thus bypassing the Apostle's strap, which through the foramen of the supraorbital, thickened the strides that pretended immobile before the opening of the Golden Door. Of course, they were prisoners of their self-denial for the length of their footsteps to the rhythm of the sensitive skulls, In the fourth camel Raeder, he cleared the margins that allowed them to increase their attempts to withdraw them from the golden doors, but the dislocation of the orbits of their ocher eyes, denoted their holes in the condylar fossa, distancing the vicinity of the Tehillim advocated by King David in the Seventh Seal of a stuck Giga Camel. The metric form innovates them of ubiquity, for omnipresence in the camels before the gates, and after the gates, thus leaving the site of the eighth gate, deserting the camels behind the gates and arcades pointing to the old cemetery. of the prophecies that Elijah holds, and in procuring generational stoning of inter camelids, which would be channeled into twelve plus another dozen, but behind all, appearing to be six, later joining King David, who would provide the parallelism of the Seventh Seal. This caravan was numbered from one to six, saving the vertices of the Golden Gate that joined modestly at the odd vertices, under the odd cross of the same vertex, which made the equilateral coherent according to the three angles where Vernarth and Etréstles went, and then joined other pairs of vertices in a crucified chain in the flat and secondary complementarily of the seventh angel, but with epilogue character of the Seventh Seal. Thus it would be numbered according to the Gigas Camels, the Golden Gate, governing them for a family of six family angles and a seventh seal, for the performance of the family sustenance of primogeniture in the reinsertion of Saint John the Apostle, since he was banished by Emperor Domitian. Making themselves succulent of the gold of the Seventh Seal, on the collective unconscious of the first-born, for the good of the sub-genitor son. Here the indication goes for the purpose of populating the consecration of granting greater goods to those who second and could lead forces of abandonment and secular sedentary, for the need to welcome sacrifices of goodness and preferences of lay annoyance and earthly secular strengthening. The kinetics would move the six numbered over the vertices of the Sun in three bevels, joining the pairs in vertices covered in the circumscribed mesh of vehemence, which is impacted with the solid Golden Gate of Jerusalem, depositing the concentric radii of the polarized magnet on the struts of the camel of the central ram, for the affinity of the contraption of a trajectory for all Judah, in six predestined latitudes to Ein Karem, in the Hexagonal Baptistery of the Shepherds".

With symmetrical scrupulousness at a certain time, the rounded bisector of the psychic lines of the peritoneum fold of the solitary flanks of the Camels Gigas, towards a vocal peritoneum set six times more than a seventh, was estimated, in the apothem of the two-dimensional figure of the Febo hexagon angel, with less centrality, for the foundation of the Apostle and Vernarth, regulating them by points and sides, on the perpendicular bezels, prostrating towards a more orthodox and straight line, mutinying with radials phases on the bisector..., giving a quotient of odd numbers, which cut the first round of anointing, among all those that were retained in the daydreams of catching them for involuntary deaths. From Gaugamela's stratagem, three thousand muscular Hetairoi descended, towards the implantation of heart nuclei in the camelids, on the Susa Gate and the oblique break marching towards the war site, creating a fissure between camels, and the sphinx of Alexander the Great breaking into the Left-wing of the Golden Gate. This was the casuistry of Vernarth's psychic advance impetus, who once was at the precise moment of stalking, hypnotizing the gap of the Achaemenides, but unaware of that mechanical moment, persists in going after the Giant Camels. He guided them with his right hand to both sides, equipped with heart irons that exorbitated the whispering of his pectoral canals, interrupting the dawn of the Cinnabar, with the antigen readjusting the hinges of the door before falling untimely. Vernarth, with his sinister, calls upon the Hindu family who tried to open the breach of Alexander with his Macedonian baggage, thus preventing him from lying in the reliquary in contrition towards Vernarth himself. The infamous moment must have passed through the swords of some who resisted when fleeing from the held Golden Gate, giving up the rear of Vernarth with the camels recovered and saved from the abandonment of their afflicted hearts, resigning themselves with empty hands and with an outpouring of victory, but with two units confronted in his Portal of Imagination.

g) Reflection temporality

In cavern series, the lava was converted into cations of hydronium, in underground pits that glowed in Tsambika's temporality when the homily was officiated. Some pieces and calcareous boulders rotated random by the humid and dark narrowness of the subterranean reflection, having lived in the heavenly paradise that formed them by the volcanic tube and its syngenetic, by the erosion of the subsoil of Rhodes. The speculative rock icons expired of the symptoms, with albuminous cliffs of the genetics of the Theoskepasti chapel, Etréstles carried under his arm the expiration contract of the Universe, to deliver it with his signature, for the dimensional transfer will. Everything flourished with attractive mineralization systematizations, under an astral posology, In the cognitive, Kanti memorized his wanderings in Crete, imagining his physical body united with his mind on the paths of the shoulder of his ancestry, with batches of clockwork that went and passed through his physiognomic, bathing with the piece wind, but also with the hard shoulder that came straight towards him, showing him new encephalic pathways, which surrendered in epistemological globes, but levitating in excess of the hard shoulder and the unknowns, for states of temporality that became mentalized in pursuit of a supra desire..., disease or typologies long-standing who used the supposed ontological formalization, gave functioning the property of body with the memory of advanced towards a new Duoversality. The officialization of Ars Choralis, is solemnized for processes of emotional property; In this way the cave of Being and its Temporality is made haughty, self-isolating for intra-cave investigations, as corollaries and agility in those who yearned for identity, being able to attach themselves to deities in dozens of epicenes, which would be from tens to ten, thus being seventy tens and a half, which would be seventy-five of the seven tens, and of the unconscious of the syntagm that Etréstles carried away, separating the syntactic of the Vas Auric hypothesis, so that they coexist..., although the pestilential decays before the rolled-up syntactic of Kanti's head. Untreated and conscious-unconscious to his instinct, resorting and harassing the procedural bars, of the Ergo Sum parameter. The temporality of reflection, In momentum ac Diadem, it shone from the third trumpets of the Seventh Seal to the potential of the twilight corrodes and their regions that made the shoulder of the shoulder the awareness of temporality reflected in required dismayed collectivities, to transcribe exhortations to the behavioral pattern of the temporality of love Faust. Little remains immobile, little drive when two masses of consciousness withdraw to the storehouses of the Universe, already advantageous of their exhaustion, but inheriting them in precipitous emotions towards the pre-consciousness factors in the heights of the mountains of Crete and Kímolos.

Kanti the steed says: “Deus Nostri Pontificatus Annis et ad eum, God is my pontificate and my way to Him…, Adonis in the relative absence of credit, before Ephebos with absolute deafness, surprising me here in the Diospyros and neuro archetype flight. I ride farther than my physical-emotional, contributing in the micro-fusions of the tubules, in quantum, and interacting with the fineness of the minuscule substance, within themselves. Almost injuring the storms that vibrate in the mine of a risk prop of a steed, in pursuit of a trance that only ends up being the architect and augur of knowledge..., of when and where it agonizes more than once, but within the limit of the Duoverse crushed at his own peril, continually evaluating himself to transfer a genetic force into my hooves of solid steel, but ornamental and of Reflected Temporality.


h) Expansion and Aramaic Taxonomy

Organic taxonomy, as a pre-ordering order, classifies the harmlessness of language before the invasion of Alexander the Great. Although there were implosions of the Greek language, its transboundary taxonomy would be shifted towards Judea. Pre cited is its variant pharyngolaryngeal tracheo, in this assertiveness and occasionality, it predisposes emphasis on orthographic rather than phonetic incidents, citing Galilea as a precursor of the Aramaic and taxonomic thesis of Gethsemane, prior to its expansive conventionalism of enrapturing her in her differentiation, and in the expansive hotbeds necessary to channel the basic axons of commerce, between antiquity under the prerogative of supplied ethics and pre-classified inputs, such as food and geographic furnishings of economic arts, as well as, the syntax of words that could have curvature and geometry in the forms or linear designs of the time. Any letter could be interpreted as a physiognomic form or as tools of manifest imperialism, coexisting execrable or blessed as languages or keys of immunological communication, with symbolisms of languages spoken in rituals of systematization, and of obfuscation of a metaphysical Messiah, always an angel, for when this is the case. In other words, the water speaks to him in dialects and adults with an oriental language, appearing cryptic in the appointments that are related to the language of the great Extra Universal heritage.
Vernarth's Aramaic is an ***** composed of valuation graduation and generational expansion, opening evolutions combined with the matrix of “Ethereal Spatiality”, towards a channel or rib with a common end in what is done on the margin of Faith. and it is predestined on the basis of object and substance, as a regulatory organism, for groupings of species within the biological language or not, as well as in the fissure of a Cladia of lichen fungi, forming the optics of expression as spelling and not as a utilitarian concept. Amplifying what a camel is; this is how it is importunate, being its **** consensus with the "S" backward in a perfect camelid, the "T" also being a perfect Cobra approaching the three S's of the Syriac Aramaic alphabet. The “Y with L fused” of the Aramaic alphabet with a large elephant, and finally the “H” as a pelican simile, like the pelagornithids or Pelagornithidae, fossilized in the emotional collective of rock tribes, progressing from elephants, camels or pelicans in the search for a literate language and consonant shapes that are attributed to their jaws and pharyngolaryngeal substrates..., observing long vowels, as in the language of an organic universal alphabet. The matrix is timeless, branching out of the mechanics of natural and phenomenal selections, if it is metaphysical or is contributing Demiourgy on the infinity of the encodings or depending on the size of its geo-referencing, it will contribute energy exchanges with predictive purposes of information of orders, and adaptations of the calcified scientific space, Vernarth, dives into the ponds or Naídes of the Aegean and survives, just when the networked volcanoes were swallowing all the seas in the world. It braced being only part of the laps of the sea, tattooing with its gaze the chthonic nymphs, before envious and backsword ogres with gills, which multiplied more than any myth-poetic. Its power of convergence is inhibited by the poetic myths of primordiality and of cosmology as a natural branch in nautical miles traveled by its arms, without knowing who crossed them, survivor, in its advance, and treasuring the arm plunges on and under the scalded clay objects, perhaps as implantation of the muddy and hyper-flood lexicon, empowering itself in its translation from Syria to Patmos, and from linear B Mycenaean to Syriac Aramaic languages,


i)Sub - Verthian Mythology (Camera Obscura)

Adhered to the ancient parallels of the cult, the mythology of Horcondising lashes out. Stale and axiomatic source of pragmatic and rational earth that emanates from this constrained fusion of the Universe in the metamorphosis of Duoverso-Horcondising. Social and genealogical plates date more than seven hundred years from Lombardy and northern Venice in Italy, Spain, and France. The mission of the Horcondising is the transhumant myth, and Chaos of the ancestral family cenacle, in view of a family rule, succeeding in continuous litanies that consecrate rites beyond genetic archaeological death. The consolation of souls will revive and will be under the edict of the Sub-mythology in repose landing in successive parapsychological regressions, which will speak of deaths suffered at the edge of their test tube lives, Under the mythology, there is the sub-fable, prone to boundaries where the statement innovates the entire structure of hermeneutics, as a written notification and complacent verb, for lords of the grass and granaries of granaries, narrating myth-stories in messes of revived verbality. Thus in Rhodes and Patmos, Andronicus of  Rhodes will guard the doorway of his hobbies again, so that these disciplines are conducive to sponsorships of words under reasons of a nature concerning Saint John the Apostle risen in flesh and spirit, in contrast to the conclusions of the reason to leave breathless the destiny that the just cheer and disapproval of diction of not certain science, under ships that cover the commendable salvation in exegetical storms that go from a liberated shelter, as well as in what differs from the et Grammatica institutione arithmetica in that each one writes what it understands, and adds what humanistically makes existence in a biblical alphanumeric dimension, from the imaginary in some of its leaders such as Zefián, Borker, Leiak, Kaitelka, in Hyperdisis and the Zig Zag Universes. Making the mythical an ensemble with deities that rule the infinite, achieving more secular religiosities than in a radius of religion, founded by characters that are already pagan mythology. This is the raison d'être of the sub-mythology, which springs from one already narrated and rationalized, but in the contradiction of what underlies under the very observance that unites itself, forging itself creditor of very new myths within others, with characters that have never been or have been parasitizing on another source of cognition. Thus becoming extensive and prolonged in its passage liers sumptuousness of other arcane myths, within the same ones that inhabit the mythological lie, without blemish from veracity belonging to the living-lie in pursuit of a dead-truth. Even if it is in this way or hermeneutic method, continue to beat and go to meet the Castellar Imaginary del Horcondising and the Camera Obscura, which always live and revive in the sub-imagination, but from a mythical truth in a regime of multitudinous voice. and myth-poetics.

From the sooty Camera Obscura the spindle was obtained over the diameters of each edge, Vernarth of the same chaos, converged from the square but not the spherical world, from this sooty box together with his master Zefián, who polished and shot vines of light over the projection of the same box, and of the quantum ark on the acropolis of Leiak, simulating entelechy in its projection with the ultraviolet light of light similar to the earth, but not square, rather appearing to be a square sphere. After repeated intervals, Vernarth opened the slits of his hands, also hollowed, here other globules appeared but not spheroids, rather quadrilaterals at the end of the third phase in the last three series that showed the complete reflection of a tiny world, that just clamored for amnesty as a matter that had been beginning to form with another factor on a large scale, from this fractality that would appear as Vernarthian sub-mythology. Camera Obscura, in a combination with twelve atomic masses, stands out starting in the irradiation of sexagesimal nomenclature; imagining fractionality between sixty microseconds to sixty in the hexagonal polygon of the Primogeniture and the Baptistery of Ein Karem. Being used in the elevations of the stars and the Heliac Ortho of dawn, which would find the black box that was nailed in its twelve apostolate angles. The whole times were divided into more exact numbers that surrounded him in his Camera Obscura doing trigonometry with other rectangles of three equilateral, making multiples of twelve on the line of the hypotenuse of sixty, dividing by the hexagonal, which is the angular line of the six sides of progression of the Duoverse becoming a spheroid square, for an analogy of Hexagonal Birthright with the multiple of twelve for the sake of the Giant Camels, leading them to the obfuscation of the Horcondising fused with the Duoverse, by means of Pi (π), in the diameter equidistant between the Universe and the Duoverse disintegrated in two by the concentric radius of both geometric units. In the same way, Vernarth multiplied the existence of his new sexagesimal world in nths by sixty followed by infinite numbers of zeros, canceling the radical time of the masses of anodyne particles. The corondels or watermarks, overflowed with all the irregularities of the system, showing the decimal after the comma.


j)Verthian Apostolic Conception - Kashmar

Vernarth, was in Sardinia in the megalithic complexes Nuraga when he conceived his apostolate as a messenger, biologically entrenched in the taxonomic stasis, with a merely profane and urban framework. Whose classification he would transmit to his relatives after long periods in Macedonia, sailing and doing his falconry and philosophical avant-garde chores with Aristotle, in a laxity that invited him after long rejoices to record and sculpting messages with the doves of his village. Near Pella, in the central region of Macedonia, where his general Alexander the Great resided, south of the Axio River, his abode was nomadic and was on a hill near the lakes and mountains surrounded by Greco-Barbarian inhabitants, tracing the Chalkidian league., after the Peloponnesian War. He was in great campaigns in the former Pella, His will as an artist is precisely to be an apostolate of a thought that would intersect with the Yahwist gift to an apostolate of the Apostle Matías, whose connection would provide his transliteration of the post-mortuary link of the Jesus of Nazareth, replacing Judas Iscariot, due to his apostasy. Vernarth, distressed by this episode, became Commander of Alexander the Great, lying already primitive in his ranks of Hetairoi, transcending over the scourge of Judas Iscariot, to face in the arena of Pella. In a reverie near the Thermaic Gulf, he genuflected under the sacrosanct trees near some illustrious Kashmar Cypresses, channeling his furious and tramontane spiritual into the gulf, to take him out of a banal summer in the transition of an immolated soul, and make him walk for thirty days barefoot, without sweet potatoes in his hands to ego stone him, only naming him slavish stubble of the crops in the deleterious nesting places of the Ravens of Kashmar, bidding him so that his blood is ****** by the heels of the rooted trees of Thor forest, usurping his "Gift of Iahvé ”In dishonor of its Hebraic appellation, for the onomatopoeic of its rhetoric, resulting from the feckless roar of black lineage, which will emanate from the mouth of the Aulos, whistling inside the Cobra. In the aforementioned link, the group of twelve was recomposed, being in the gulf and in the incidences of the re-indoctrination of the twelve apostolates, he is with his prayer and atonement in the mystical character for the community worshiping the Kashmar; which roots hardened towards the silent immolation portent as Judas entered the black night, for excessive twists of the bifurcations, intertwining with the Beams of the Thermaic cliff, like a lynx observing the height and its prominence in that of Judas dwindling over the stained areas of hell..., thus its remains were scattered by the synod of bustard birds in the sprayed sky of globular creation, faded by conclusive hordes of the late Neolithic Druid and by the deity Belinus, with ingots of sooty petrified poplar from Hecate boiling in the Underworld. We shoveled over the holm oak groves and their trees, sacralizing their factotum after the ritual of the sanctuary of the thus his remains were scattered by the synod of bustard birds in the sprinkled sky of globular creation, faded by conclusive hordes of the late Neolithic Druid and by the deity Belinus, with ingots of Hecate's sooty petrified poplar boiling in the Underworld. We shoveled over the holm oak groves and their trees, sacralizing their handyman after the ritual of the sanctuary of the thus his remains were scattered by the synod of bustard birds in the sprinkled sky of globular creation, faded by conclusive hordes of the late Neolithic Druid and by the deity Belinus, with ingots of Hecate's sooty petrified poplar boiling in the Underworld. We shoveled over the Holm oak groves and their trees, sacralizing their handyman after the ritual of the sanctuary of the Dodona, in uniformity towards a murmur in the leaves from oak in the spell of man towards an oracle, to consummate it with the mendicant count of the Ziziphus Spina-Christi; hawthorn of the crown of Jesus but with implants of Kashmar, on the crown of Judas already immolated.

Vernarth walked alone through the inlet of Skala, on Patmos, when he had to undertake a trip to Judah, even so, he also walked bi-location in the inlet of Sardinia, after being in the megalithic complex Nugarhe, Vernarth, Etréstles, and Walekiria, they approach matching Tuscany. Once they were instantiated in Sardinia, a coastal sailboat transported them in the middle of a stormy day, it was a great happy day to arrive in La Spezia. Here they parked at night following the Liturgy, standing out those that coincided with Lent of Holy Week, where one day they were seen talking with Petrarca and Laura de Noves. The olive trees keep pietism with the phantasmagoria of the Kashmar, who made the double murmur of the spell of the Duoversal man. Always in Tuscany, the tracks below the garden have been occupied, which has a distant view of the roofs and towers of Florence. The monumental fountain set on a steep hill on a side flank of the garden terrace has a seated god flanked by lions in relief of stucco from a niche decorated with pebble mosaics and padded masonry. " Here at the Verbena of a long feast day, all together with Vernarth get drunk with Corinth Wine, which they brought and did not stop swinging to the rhythm of the music that made them foresee multi-existence beyond limitless sensibilities, turning their role closer to from the instigated destiny to Patmos in the hands of the original Duoverso with translation, rotation and Duoversal Theurgic orbit, for the spell-dogmatic invoking ultra-sensory powers of angels and gods, in order to signify with his country land near Pella,

k)Fractality and Spirit-Cinnabar Dynamics

In the black camera obscura, certainly connected blues made other dark holographic areas that were enlarged super connected to the optical perspective, conceiving of the infinity of a luminescence that was fractalized, the black-blue pre-existing towards the Z pattern = Exp (Z / OB ^ 4), what is the equivalent to the set of the Bernese Olive Tree Rapa, on the border of its Lipogenesis, which would appear in the chromatic version and final maturity of the olive tree, for the fractal exponential of Z =; where all the points of the complex plane Z = (OB, iy) are iterated in the corresponding function Olives Berna in a set of IY, and in all the iterations where an arbitrary constant (Cx, iCy) is added Cinnabar in lines of orthogonal sets X and Y, in such a way that the choice of the constant "seed" will determine the unique shape of the profile and the color of the fractal, once the chromatic pattern has been defined. In the paradigms shown in this continuation, a constant has been chosen, as it will only produce divergence and will have been qualified with the escape velocity algorithm, to contract exact self-similarity stratagems in this, which is the most restrictive type of car. -similarity; requiring the fractal to appear identical at different scales.

The holistic spórtula of the Cinnabar in some pecuniary exercises, are impelled for a tacit and absent society, in Every night beginning at dawn, everyone retreats and the Cinnabar appears like a kaleidoscope apostolizing in glorious joy, where the Aramaic synergy between the Garden of Olives and Gethsemane, is concatenated with the entirety of the Phylogenetic species with the homily in Tsambika and Theoskepasti, such as the new relationship of the link between species that were improper and endemic to the region near the stable in Bethlehem de Kafersesuh, to be inter-inseminated in the banks of the slopes of Gethsemane, in such a way, that the linguistics would begin to be absorbed in Joshua, and it would go for a closer shortcut towards the classification of the traditional and omnipotent variants, which migrated through the Olives to renew and preserve the Aramaic or Aramaic languages, from a shared origin now, for the omnipotent salvific languages that were to be addressed in Gethsemane. Once starting the splendor in the city of the eight gates, and from such interference, involve the Lepidoptera taxon, inseminating the populations of organisms related to lexicons to shed life and language,

l)Vas Auric – Cinnabar (Φ)

The pecuniary prerogative of spórtula, makes the Vas Auric and the Mandylion its residence, tending towards an algebraic sense of the two diametral in a cross by the perpendicular, towards the tension of the shortest segment by the long, tracing a circumference of radius and a half. Homologating in the interposed eclipse of the golden or golden number, for the divine proportion in consequence of irrational fractioning numbers. Shortening the passage of the algebraic numbers with the infinite decimal towards the Cinnabar with seven arches in parentheses reflecting in the partition of the apse in both temples of the homily, making the period of antiquity, files registered in mega center of the quantum memory of Cinnabar, before disrupting the genesis of the Duoverso.

The First Treatise of the Vas Auric fell into the hands of Vernarth, one day of heavy plutonium sheets en masse of the golden number. The vertical avalanche was segmented when the dichotomy of another line that collided with the segments was not altered, or rather omitted by certain temporary blindness of the Duoverso world that it just boasted. Compositions of number Z are made, and subdivision in its cinematographic optics, divided into two slow shots of a small element that became part of the controversy of Vas Auric as a medallion and Auric as Mystic Gold, with distribution laws.

"Zeus wakes up shaky, full of headache saturated in Pro-headache Herbs
Jophiel is speaking this time in the Kabbalistic Torah language...
with its golden commoner and super zone of Organikon Sorousliston Papadikon….
secular music that supplies Zeus with protein albumin,
to make him more human... Zeus accepts Jophiel placing him in his discernment
over the house of Jophiel; divine island to throw cartomancy...
bring the second ray to the Sahasrara on his crown,
pacified love that is the suspicious and risky loser of everything...
risk in the head, especially when condemnation is born!

And the floristics, over the stolon of the veins, moves synchronously with the prolongations, speeds, and acceleration of the emancipated leaves of the first order of the upper crown, up to the lower ones, thickening the golden spirals of a certain type of inflorescence, confining the umbilical zones of Vernarth, and the plantar area of its feet between three and more than a hundred steps that come from certain metamorphoses, creating peduncular areas, acting as a support for Vernarth and its Elder areas, brought from the Bumodos stream, after a string therapy, creating psychic supports to endorse globalized neuralgic. Understanding that the line of his neuralgia oscillates the greater analog of the Messiah in the cross pierced by the Hastae Praetorian, in the most remote of the elliptical of pain, reduplicated by accumulated energy, almost like mystical suffocation. On the part of the growth of the tangent in growth and of the evolution of the reflection, where the attenuation of the opposite effect is unleashed, allowing convalescence zones in signs of propeller blades around the Vas Auric, crossing vertical and horizontal beams of lights, in search of Light Angled and refractory solar, for the palfrey of the Kanti Steed, abstracted from excessive rain, which uncrossed the tempos of the aura of the organic and aerial underground, towards the duplicity of curves of the multi-cloned numbers and angered by their industrious dynamics of skewed movement, towards the effective solar..., tending to the effects of successive trends of the vaporous numeral of Vas Áurico Cinnabar.

m) Psychic Trisomy

The species and somatic acquired deposits of DNA spirals, given their characteristics, will make transformations in more than one cellular taxon for a homologous pair. Here Kaitelka the whale down from Sub-Mythology, will circle in the Baltic Sea, compromising neuralgia in it as a superfluous essence due to its trisomy, making a comparison with psychic trisomies that Vernarth suffered at least four times a month, from the first and eleventh day, after his parapsychological regressions when he sailed over abysses and anesthetized zones on glacial plankton in the North Sea. Kaitelka individualized her cellular regressions, becoming a prehistoric cetacean and when she lagged beyond or before her creation, she transferred psychic trisomies due to her twenty-one chromosome. Kaitelka's karyotype was directed towards the crease of her eyes, due to an infection in the area of her basal inter fins, which disturbed her heart rate in a short interval where Poseidon magnified her coefficient in high amplitude, after being inseminated in a tempered state and gifted as a Super Goddess. Kaitelka in nativity in the transversal valleys sailed in the air atmospheres of Hyperdisis, and she was always seen in the company of Leiak; the omnipresent and vague spirit of the watery ductile dancer, living on the liquefied element with his astringent slimy chin..., seeing him with his grotesque back-breaking swampy lines between knuckles, and hedges of tricks collected before the first station, in one of the first of the three Remaining nights before reaching Joshua de Piedra del Horcondising volcano, that upset her heart rate in a brief interval where Poseidon magnified her coefficient in high amplitude, after being inseminated in a moderate state and gifted as a Super Goddess. About seven hundred meters high she becomes Kaitelka Down godmother, adding the psychic chromosome twenty-two that contracts in the connection with Vernarth, in the extravagant massifs when in the autumn afternoons they collect Ceratocystis fagacearum Fungi, and irradiating them with insects such as the borers. When   Kaitelka recovers its chromosome by detraction in the natural selection of Trisomy, express is spilling on the dry and gelatinous Laurus leaves of all its dead cells, which are promptly seeped from the retracted membranes in frank adhesion, causing regeneration of the disease. After wanderings and ringed symptoms of lesson in the atmosphere of the ecstatic Horcondising, the wooly will be magnanimous and challenged from the chromosome spilled in the emulsion, is contained in the alpha proteins in the transverted Vernarth genome, as a warned whole and abundantly diploid, before reaching the lethal processes of reciprocal adversity, both as a zoo-anthropoid or a triple zoo-anthropoid-botanical effect. Pre-Existing Kaitelka Down with forty-two chromosomes (22 pairs) and the Lepidoptera Agrodiaetus (134 pairs), in its haploid, that is, half remains vitalizing between two species of the sub-mythological world, and in its psychic cellular compound, and later implant it in germ cells for the effect of Venarthian ambivalent psychic transmission and vice versa. By discard, there are four fewer chromosomes than the hommo sapiens and 222 less than the Lepidoptera Agrodiaetus, for a meta sense of flourishing with the power of Poseidon, brother of Zeus, Meta sense and discernment, encephalic they will be cogitated by conscious where their sensory cognitive is interrupted, towards an unconscious through the photons of hypocaloric temperature, to define in the prehistoric psychological memory of their psychic, more than random brain, coexisting of habeas corpus content and remote brain energy, before the magistracy and power of Poseidon that confines him. Graduated from southern impassable seclusion, their memory is isolated in their E-Cloud. Namely; stored in electromagnetic and electrophysiological stimuli, incontinent and weighted in the square miles of floating Poseidon outbursts, in the category of super cetacean down, with only four meager chromosomes from the remnants of the human procedural genome. The trisomy field, On the fourth of August of the year of the Lord, 1617, when Klauss Rittke was cleaning the main stained glass window of the Cathedral of Avignon, he heard heated dialogues between a Friar and a Gentleman, who was once an assistant to the clergy. Klauss could come closer and listen to their conversation more clearly, until the Friar Andrés Panguiette, babbling, demanded of Raymond Bragasse indulgence or one or the other. (Compendium of Marielle Quentinnais). Relating in its narrative evolution, about some Albigenses of this work set in Avignon, time of the Antipopes, crossing with the psychic waves that have just been mentioned, and of prophecies of who precisely Guillaume Bélibaste was born into a Cathar family. Having noted that 1321 in 296 years apart from Marielle Quentinnais, it takes place in Carcassonne on the same day as Bélibaste was executed, given his licentious life breaking Cathar dogmas, incriminating himself with civilians from the region, marrying women in exile, etc., was condemned by the Holy Inquisition, where many were purged for the sole fact of holding biblical books in their abode. Among the flames of his bonfire the prophecy of the laurel will be homologated, whose shadow will fall on the centuries to come. Note the coincidence 3, 700 years ago, where the first signs of life were appreciated on our planet and in the Hylates Forest in Cyprus (700, 000 thousand souls) in the imprint that unifies the Christian scrolls, blowing gold dust on Walekiria's hair..., and being liberated, as a tantric body of physicality. No one spoke, not even the 700, 000 thousand souls who also claimed to be liberated (Vernarth, page 313 - paragraph 2). And finally the seventh portion of the sea, with Poseidon. Here the Psychic numeral of Vernarth and Kaitelka coincide, who appears with the laurel of Guillaume de Bélibaste after almost seven hundred years, facing the unification of the prophecy of the Laurel, whose shadow will hover over the centuries to come. Templars, perfect bone Hommes and Cathars meet, in this historical feat, through the secret path safe from traitors and conspirators thanks to the most surprising allies. Bélibaste's fast-paced story will allow us to get closer to the most unknown ceremonies and rituals of his confession, showing us his revelations in the flames and turning green in the Laurel of 1321 in sync with 2021. Given the little and nothing that exists of the revealing enthronement and the psychic environment, it should be noted that historical facts fly like pollen, with the waves in their same vibrations of the aeolian autogyro. This entails physical vibrational material, which is in every corner of existentialism, without beginning or end, only rewinding through the infinite axon of karma and samskara, for physical-ecological convulsed means and intermediates, in revealing semblances of the primitive psychic field before us, like the Aspís Koilé, as a shield or as an omnidirectional parabolic antenna, bringing us events after events that strangely interchange phases, and intertwined efforts over time in quantum physics and subsequent biophysical changes in the genome chain, especially in its Psychic Trisomy.

to be continued...
DUOVERSE
Brandon Oct 2011
My golden heart beats and beats for you
A thousand palpitations at any given moment
I can feel my chest caving in within every pulse
Filling my head with such evocative dialogue
The salacious sound of your slithering voice
Snakes into my head spreading like an aphrodisiac
You solicit lecherously illicit questions that unnerve my judgment
In our dreams we dreamt of double eclipses
Upon our lips while we slept and slumbered
Our bodies coiled like serpents tangled in tantric passion
With the waking of giants and mythical expeditions
Our hearts would burn the fieriest of red
Ensnared between these silken sheets
Springs tied around every exposed limb
As if we haven’t known the sweetness of sleep for days
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
Rama Krsna Sep 2021
looking down
to spot my shadow,
i glimpse
your slender silhouette instead.

my orange tip butterfly!
this ain’t a sleight of light,
as dreams merge
our souls unite,
leaving our tanned bodies tangled
in a titillating state of tantric union


© 2021
inspired by nature on a beautiful walk through central park  yesterday
Jeff Gaines Feb 2019
And now, their desperation and panic sink to an all-new low. They actually begin an attack on my sexuality, my familial relations and even my ability to have an ****** ...

  An ******?

  When you stop laughing, take into consideration that they are also regressing throughout all of this because this dysfunction that they suffer from is deeply rooted in their youth. Thus all the silly name calling and accusations that they could not possibly be able to know or prove and yet they state them as fact, like a child. I.E: A child calling out: "Your mama is a *****". Now those words come flying out from a frightened child when they really have no idea whatsoever about this target's mother. It is just an attempt to hurt. Nothing more.

But in this next bit, you can really see this desperation and panicked choice of subjects to try and use "against me", as-it-were. They don't know what else to do. Their ego is on autopilot, telling their fingers what to type ... and their ego is regressing back to childhood. Thus the childish subject matter.


(Name Deleted) Jeff the TROLL..
Has never and will never reach ****** ****** with either female or male partners.

Has never had a stable and fulfilling love life.
Will NOT and can NOT never ever love anyone UNCONDITIONALLY.
Has never been loved UNCONDITIONALLY by anyone male or female.
Has always been consumed unto bitter and fierce hatred of anyone who has!!.
A deep and bitter jealousy leading to violent hatred consume this TROLL.
Get back under your bridge Jeff.
Any replies from you in future will be deleted unread-even your long overdue apology.
AUM

 0 
 1 reply 
15h

Jeff Gaines  SOOOO MUCH FUN!

Ok, (Name Deleted) ... THAT was your most humorous YET!

Your actions are truly textbook of a person with your deep psychological issues. So ... if you will not read any more of my responses to YOUR trolling, then I needn't worry about you then sending a new volley to this one ... Hum? Good, I'm glad. This is truly getting boring. It's not too challenging to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person ... and a predictable one as well.

Sadly, we both know that your silly, over-inflated ego will NEVER allow you to NOT read something written about you. And you not responding would be a cover for your pathetic attempt to have the last word. (Again, we both know THAT won't happen)

Funnier still, you call me a troll, then go to one of my pieces and begin yet another troll campaign on the same day that you claim to not read any more of my responses.

So, you are trying to say ... "I will continue to troll/bully you, but I will read none of your responses, so I win". (hands on your hips, stomping your tiny foot on the floor, no doubt)

You say you are married? I pity this person ... your behavior is that of a post-pubescent, angry little boy with serious ego and self-esteem issues. Her life must be a living hell, as I would bet money that you are an overbearing control freak with an intense king-baby syndrome to boot. Of course, I could be completely wrong and it is SHE who wears the pants in your household and THAT is why you must come here to find some sense of "control" in your world. But that is all conjecture that I do not wish to even BEGIN to address.

Your need to appear like some type of "guru" or all-knowing person who is better than everyone else is deeply seated, so I think it started very early in your life.

As I've said ... 'TEXTBOOK".

So textbook in fact, that I have decided to make this entire exchange into a piece about trolls/bullies and bullying. But don't worry about that ... I will leave it up long enough for you to read it, leave one of your hysterical troll responses to further prove my observations ... and I will have had the last word.

Then, predictably, you will write something about me on your page, then block me so that I can't respond (thus making your poor, decimated ego feel like it had the last word), which will not only further prove my observations about you, but it will lead folks over to my page to read my piece about you.

It'll be fun!

Now, on to your latest huffing and puffing:

"troll"

Once again, you accuse me of something that YOU are guilty of.

Once again, you are crying about me doing something that YOU did first. (I can't stop laughing about this. Just like a bully to cry and whine when he himself is punched in the nose and doesn't receive the response that he is seeking when HE does the punching!)

*** - Kettle/Gander - Goose, little man.

I am only guilty of responding to your trolling ... which is my right. Because, as is well established, you began this little soiree when you called me an "Unreconstructed alcoholic with no personal sense of shame" in a comment about a piece I had written about a friend that had recently died! Sadly pathetic, indeed.

Then, as I've stood up to you, you have spiraled down, like a burning airplane, in your pathetic child-like name calling and such to the point where you did schoolyard (at best) name-calling ("Electronic ****"? I LOVED THAT ONE!) and attacked my race, my religion and political stances (I picture you, a terrified little schoolboy, trembling in a schoolyard, shouting these things as you wee your pants in fear).

Then. you actually threaten me with physical violence (punching me in the nose). Now ... when NONE of that ridiculous posturing and panic-stricken chest-beating has worked, you take a jab at my sexuality and interpersonal relationships?

You are the one with "No personal sense of shame" here. You are publicly getting more and more pathetic and your ego won't even let you see that! Your imaginary pedestal is way too high, (Name Deleted). The fall from there is really going to hurt you.

Attacking my sexuality, love life and relationships?

Really?

There are few straws left for you to grasp at, huh?

Again, having never met me, something you couldn't POSSIBLY make accurate conjectures about. ANYONE reading this would laugh, knowing where this is truly coming from.

My FAVORITE was the bit about me never achieving an ******! It took me SEVERAL minutes to stop laughing about that one.

How old are you (Name Deleted)? 12 ... 13, maybe?

No matter your actual birth age, these silly claims and insinuations are definitely NOT those of a grown-aged man. They are straight out of the playbook of an early teen. To make such an unfounded accusation is nearly disturbing on SO many levels.

Wow ... just ... "WOW".

You spew them from your imaginary ivory tower, the one that makes you believe that you are above everyone else, so they MUST be facts, right?

And in true (Name Deleted) form, you state them like facts to the public.

A public that can readily see that it is all coming from a wee little man, standing on an imaginary pedestal trying to convince the world that he is a "somebody". You should have taken my earlier advice and just closed your mouth. But it is all too late.

Deep nasal breaths (Name Deleted) ... DEEP nasal breaths.

I've no need to respond to this silly notion with tales of my ****** bravado or adventures, nor my past love life. That is none of your business and a true gentleman NEVER kisses and tells.

Besides, THAT is the action of schoolboys and men who are lacking in the "endowment" department ... as is attacking OTHER men about these issues.

I won't bring my family into this either. (Taking shots at my familial relationships (Name Deleted)? Hmmm, I wonder if this a Freudian confession of your own family issues. But I won't go there. It's a can of worms best left on the shelf, I should think. It does pose some possible explanations for your behavior and persona though, doesn't it?)

So ... I hope you stick to your word and "not read/delete" this so that I needn't respond again. But, (long sigh) I highly doubt that you will. Your life AND your behavior are CONTROLLED by your fully delusional ego.

Watch for my upcoming piece, which will feature this exchange for ALL of the world to see. It will be cut and pasted verbatim, and I will even add a few additional notes.

I'm going to use it to help educate others on how to recognize and handle egotistical, cowardly, wanna-be bullies such as yourself.

Please, allow me to at least thank you for writing all these responses and demonstrating in such a textbook fashion, how your type acts and reacts and even letting us see inside of you a bit, thus letting us see what makes you tick.

And most importantly ... THANKS for the laughs.



This last one is where we can see the bottom of their barrel. As predicted, they can NOT “not read/erase” something that is written about them. Their ego would NEVER allow this. They MUST read and respond because THEY must have the last word. So, we are back to schoolyard names like “**** wipe”, attacking my sexuality and chest beating by attempting to assert that I have somehow “FAILED”. (You see? They HAVE to win, so it is easier to just let them think that they did.) After this, they can only lash out with slurs against my Mother and such. I think I've made my point here.

And now you, dear Reader, will have seen nearly the complete downward spiral of a bully/hater/troll when you stand up to them. I thank them for their 'help” in making this new piece and then show that I am the better man and offer to let them have the last word. I've no idea what that will be, but if you would like to see it, just go to the piece titled “Message To A Friend” (Link in notes below), it will be there soon enough. Their desperation to be dominant is so readily apparent here, it is sad. As I said, they can't help it. Their ego is on autopilot because these issues are so deeply ingrained in their self.



(Name Deleted) To Jeff the TROLLISH LOSER.
WOW so many words just to prove you are a piece of white liberal **** wipe.
You must really hate life with your filthy mouth spewing out
non stop TROLL NONSENSE--as if its a Fight or a Battle to be fought with any stranger just to prove you are a MAN!!!.
WELL JEFF YOUVE FAILED.
YOU are not a MAN but you do have a Male Body.
Never will be a Man.
Always a sexless TROLL.
.
 0 
 1 reply 
13h

Jeff Gaines Well, (Name Deleted), I want to sincerely thank you for all of this. You don't realize it now, but you have helped me to compose something that will, in turn, help other people. It is very admirable. I/we have taken something awful and made it into something positive.

Balance in the universe doesn't get any better than that. Besides, from here, there's not much left but you making verbal attacks on my Mother and such. Even I won't let you reduce yourself to that.

I wish you well. I hope all of your dreams and wishes come true, and moreover, I hope you get the help you need to finally find peace. A peace that will let you stop trying to belittle others with your condescension and bullying demeanor. I truly hope that you can release the tortures that keep you with this agonizing persona. It must be horrible for you.

And again, THANK YOU!

Leave any message you wish after this so that you can sleep well, knowing that you had the last word. I know how important that is to you and your ego, so have it ... as a gift from me to you in appreciation for all of your help here. I promise ... I won't respond. It's all you, Dude. My job is done here.



This one, sent to me on a completely different page/post, involves the “truce”. They did this on the comment section of another piece called “I'm Sorry If You Miss Me” (Link in notes below). They couldn't do this where we had been in our volley, that might appear as a weakness to someone who'd been watching it all.

They offer an olive branch (for all that's worth), but with it, they also offer to take me to enlightenment and save me somehow. None of this is sincere in ANY way. It is once again, them, trying to condescend to me that I am in need of THEIR help. That I am less, and they are more. Just as I described in the beginning of Part I.

(Also note that upon realizing that this has all been an analyzation of them and their behavior, they attempt to spin it around that it is THEM analyzing ME. Once again, textbook predictability)

If for some silly reason, I took this “truce”, they would feel that they have dominated me and nothing would change. As you read it, you will see just what I mean, especially in the way they go on and on about how accomplished they are at 'helping” others and how they can lead me to some new and better existence, as I am such a “sick human being”. The megalomaniac is really showing through here:



(Name Deleted) Dearest TROLL,
TRUCE?

Though you so obviously write vicious TROLL Gibberish you so obviously cant spell the word gibberish correctly.Not very Self referential eh?.
Diminishes your projected self mage of being a 'nice guy' somewhat eh?.
I have analysed your crippling problem and can offer you the only way out of it.
The presence of an individual Mind superimposed in strategic command over all your brain centres in the last hour before birth has led to you being NON Self Realised(which is your problem basically).
You don't know your Cosmic Identity--and the Mind in your head has led you to believe that you are not the Individual Isness but are the Mind created operating device the Conditioned Identity.
This replaces the ID and takes control over the Glucose and Oxygen supply to all Brain centres from the Individual Isness.
Send me a Poste Restante address and I will send you(for FREE)a copy of my only CD--on which I play Alto Saxophone and Alto Clarinet andAmplified C Silver Concert Flute and my wife who is my life companion plays Electric Bass.
We use the name Maneesha which is Sanskrit for Beyond Enlightenment.
The CD which is called 'Rolling Home' is as recorded--every track in one take-no electronic messing around!.
It was recorded under strict Tibetan Tantric rules of performance--I was a Flute playing Pujari in a Temple on the Burning Ghat in Varanasi where I played for Hindu Cremations for 6 years in the 1970s.
The intention is that the listener--you--will become Mindless .According to the sacred texts of the Vedas one must become Mindless as that is the only openly accepted way to reach the final end of Yoga Meditation.
Temporary union with the Isness of the Unverse.
Yes I know you will go off into paroxysms of laughter at my very absurdwritings but I must offer as you are a very sick human being--and your TROLLISH sickness will only get much worser as you age.
I have offered.
You will ridicule me.
Your choice.



And there you have it, dear Reader. A (disturbing) look, into a very disturbed mind. I am not, nor would I ever condone or recommend doing what I have done here. I did this for you. I had the idea while reading one of their demeaning comments on someone's daily. So, when they came to my daily … I put my hook in the water. The best thing you can do is give no reaction. Soon enough, they will go off in search of the attention they so desperately need and leave you in peace. As I have shown you here, engaging them brings a never-ending string of buckets … buckets FILLED with waste-of-time.

All you need to do is keep in mind this one simple thing when they write horrible things in your comment sections, or you encounter one in your life …

Something you are doing, or have done, is SO amazingly awesome, that it brought out ALL that darkness in them!

Just ignore them and they will go find someone else to pick on. Give them an “LOL” and ignore all that follows, or just delete their comment and block them. Your time is limited and so very precious. Don't give one second of it to these types of people. It simply isn't worth it.

Besides … You have MORE amazing things to accomplish!

                   Big Love,
                           ~Jeff
Àŧùl Apr 2017
^_^
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Called The Girl Out Without Knowing Her Name,
"Hey Young Lady!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Thought I Saw Despair In Her Amber Eyes & Must Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Called My Captain & Asked, "Do You See A Girl In That Raft?"
The Captain Just Replied Kindly, "Commodore, Get Married,"
I Looked Apprehensive And He Just Said, "There's No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Enter My Room Down The Stairs Amazed & Confused,
She Floated There As She Waited By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of Hers And Start To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.

7 Paragraphs of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream


Angel Again?

Now I reached the lands again,
Still dazzled and confused I was,
From the encounter with that Angel,
Oh, how she had filled my twilight,
Unable to forget her divinely touch.

Magical touch had enchanted me,
Able to recall it from the voyage,
I stumbled when disembarking,
Oh, it was the first time for me,
My thoughts would last along.

After so many days at the sea,
I planned of bathing properly,
Her illusion tricked me thereto,
Oh how her traces remained on,
Facing mirror, I stood perplexed.

Still unable to accept the reality,
I longed for that night to repeat,
My heart beats Angel in each beat,
Life staged a drama too crazy,
Unwilling to accept the reality.

My body carries the vestiges,
I turn crazier with each bath,
Her lips' traces keep appearing,
Driving me mad is her memory,
God! Bring her to life once more.

I had my powers as a commodore,
I sent for the captain of my ship,
"What bothers you, my commodore,"
And so he asked of me kindly,
Then I told him of her traces.

Smiling he told me yet again,
"I had told you to get married,"
I agreed this time and nodded,
"Alright, search for me a bride,"
Going outside, he smiled plainly.


Angel Surely?

Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way, I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...


Angel Illusion?

I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Just Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.


Angel Not Again!!!

I recovered from the night again,
She had disappeared once more,
Was she using me as a ******???

I was frustrated & also saddened,
My self-control got strengthened,
For I was not a tissue to be used!!!

I have my feelings & my emotions,
Presence and absence torture me,
Ego I had tamed got hurt by now...

I won't let that elusive Angel come,
Questioning I must be her realities,
Illusions will end this time finally!!!

I'll establish an identity of my own,
Dependent I'll not be on the angel,
Was she only a dream & no more???

I had duly asked the aged captain,
To search for a lovely bride very soon,
Oh, so sure I am about afterwards...

I was tailed by the spirit-like angel,
So irritated by her dreary dreams,
On-off, came-gone, again & again!!!

I now would learn to catch angels,
With the plan, I went to the mage,
Should I now learn some spells???

I entered through a dark alleyway,
Was told to visit this strange place,
What comes across - I wondered...

I knocked on the door & she appeared,
Very young she seemed to me now,
Just the age of the angel of dreams!!!

I noticed that she wore a long robe,
So shiny it was silvery like her hair,
Just like the angel of dreams wore...

I rubbed my tired eyes in disbelief,
"Who're you?" I asked very loudly,
"Are you the mage's daughter???"

I wondered for long & she replied,
"Your guess is correct, kind Sailor,"
She beckoned me into the shack...

I set my foot on the wooden floor,
I looked for any sign of the mage,
I want to be set free of the cage!!!

I just thought & thought about it,
But the witch was not to be seen,
Curious I asked, "Where is she???"

"I am my mother," she said calmly,
Perplexed I couldn't say a thing,
My mouth opened once & shut...

I was now about to rise & go away,
But she stopped me with her arms,
"I must show you," so she did say!!!

I did not believe what my eyes saw,
How she changed into the old mage,
Then back into her own daughter???

O I had become confused a lot now,
Why would she transform like this,
I feared if it was actually the angel...


Angel Forever?

Seeing me anxious more than a lot,
The old witch relented a little,
She let me breathe freely,
Back transformed into her daughter,
She touched my forehead,
Then I realized it was sweaty,
Seeing her lovely care I smiled a bit.

So she now lit up a fragrant incense,
The incense seemed so soothing,
She then edged closer to me,
Transcendental wings were visible,
She came even closer to me,
Then the wings simply vanished,
So traceless as if never been there.

It must have been another illusion,
The very day I had set sail to sea,
It was probably carrying over,
Troubling me each non and then,
In my wild dreams, I had seen,
True she could not be & was not,
In my life, the torment was written.

Soon I was pleading to her teary-eyed,
"Please don't torment me, it hurts!"
She looked at me with affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"

I first remembered that night at sea,
The night back at home came next,
I had been seduced by her magic,
This was the real picture every time,
I was weak but I still felt warmer,
The night ship feels like yesterday,
I was in confusion about what to do.

Her face was transitioning rapidly,
The old mother to her daughter,
Her daughter to that very angel,
And back to the old mother witch,
Her smile turned into laughter,
The witch laughing at my cries,
Her face here was contorted a lot.

She seemed to be struggling a lot,
As though fight ensued within,
Soon I figured it out by myself,
First I must **** the witch to help,
So I looked around & grabbed,
The axe that I did spot lying there,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.


Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realized her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind sailor thank thee for freeing me."
Her words reverberating throughout,
What wind - what land - what sea,
Everywhere is her presence as I can see,
The wind whispers her name in my ear,
Since a long long time now all I wear,
Is her scent in my immortalized memory.

"Will you stay with me forever, or,
Will you go back to the heavens?"
Though I really wanted her to stay,
I love her and realize what she felt,
I offered her freedom and a choice,
I was not binding her to me in turn,
Everything was instinctive for me.

She seemed in a serious dilemma,
Struggling hard she was in herself,
I again offered & insisted this time,
"It's better you went back to your world,"
But I knew that she loved me a lot,
She tried hard controlling but said,
"I am in love with you for long."

So I am quite right that she loves me,
I am sure even she can forget me not,
Beading all our memories together,
I now know how I can gain salvation,
Not being another self-centric tantric,
"But you don't belong here dear,
So you shouldn't restrict yourself."

After this, she now looks comfortable & composed,
Ready for making a choice she wore a heart of stone,
Her lips slowly parted revealing a perfect smile,
Pearly smile again ensured me of permanent happiness,
Bright eyes and shiny eyelids of hers seemed so good,
"You can't make me stay away because you love me too,
I will keep coming in your dreams and entice your nights."

But I wanted her in my real-world now,
I prevented her from vanishing again,
I said, "Please stay, now do not go away,
Because I really can not bear that pain,"
She had almost vanished by then,
Listening to my words she chose to wait,
She said, "Even I want forever to stay."

Continuing with her divine dialogue she said,
"Say those golden words to make me stay,"
I immediately confessed, "I love you, Angel,"
"Say you love me too, oh my divine Angel,"
She didn't wait for anything more to say it,
"I love you too, oh my kind & loving sailor,"
Her powers soon left her in a flash of light.
On public demand, I clubbed The "Angel?" Series into one poem.
Ceida Uilyc Jul 2015
I could tell you,
But you’d laugh at me.
Because it is bare, raw and pure.
You gloat on the preservatives.
You discard the genuine.
Listen to me, my friend, there is a part of the world, where even a bulb is never, ever, witnessed in real, but reel of the sanskrit Cartoon slots. The peppy  and ‘lone B-grade Cartoons .
Filled with Flesh.
The stories of tantric mantras, with a sliver of diminishing hearth,
on the
Dimensions and depth of the Yoni in the resin of shellac
on the Immaculate ceremony,
In a woodpecker hole just underneath the sealed power of the Yakshini who truly screws it up if you have taste of her once.
the one who harbingers drunk loners of Kavadiyattom alley after 3:20 am.
She takes them to the crown chakra of palm trees.
Shows them the world.
she pushes them off the crown and the falcon falls in endless spirals of a inhuman push that pushes the concrete innards to a danlgling mass of amoebic copulation.
Breath comes back.
It is a big nauseating gag of Kumbhakarnan's long sadya that lasted for half a decade.
Of the soma saras that made the entire India go, ga-ga and believe they've seen the god.
But not one nor any saw the same face, colour, shape or even vibe of the god they had seen alone.
They agreed in unison that all their hallucinations of beautiful humans in Flower UFO s and high-tech cloning, were a vital hair in the nostril of the cosmos.
They made, each a god out of their genuine mix of memories.
Or in the, priest's ways,
Hence, the 2.3 Billion populous of the country had the same, well, odd Spiritual benefactors.

Keeping it all aside, lemme be honest, I'd follow many a fairy god-mother but give my milkey teeny tooth to the special one.
Hinduism tells you God is omnipresent.
Hinduism tells you God is within you.
It also says, there is no God.
The clipper to snap off the confusion of this, lies in the same cheap stained-yellow cliche of love. It entails everything. You, me, animals, plants, cosmos, vibes, thoughts, dreams and the universe.
It tells you to live with your body mind and soul.
From Kamasutras that teaches sense.
The excitement, control and breakthrough of it.
Like tao did under his exposed roof without the sacred dung of from Hindu Land.
This is the secret of a rumoured Mohini,
Of her 1000 per hour ******* during the her/ his/ its 352 incarnations.
which was the reason for Big bang.  
Amidst the sultry scant of the voluptuous *******,
Their skin,
a vernacular reflection of a dusk on the Japanese gold beaches, And the mounts,
firm and glowing with the rusty shade of pharaoh’s Gold anklet.
The gooey glaze of yesterday’s glamour in the wink of a gay galore.
Paulo Ceolho’s Holy Communion with God,
Or like the Japanese Tengaman says,
Or rather screams,
That all it it takes is a little *******.
So, yes.
That precise art of attaining a consciousness, from where your mind was
Afloat
Wild
Free
Satiated
By yourself
You’ve just consumed the essence of you
Your Ojhas
And the tiny matter that teaches the universe
Of a Shunya.
That, momentary sense of lapse of your body mass,
Or the breakthrough into your eye of the crown.
Only to join the mundane bustle of the 10,00 speakers on all four
JBLs, Boses and Pioneers live looping the zillions of sanskrit mantras under one roof.
In your Ear drum.
A synechdoche of the Gods and their jacuzzi of amphetamine bubbles.
Splashed from a white Elephant's bejewelled Snout, which has the
crowned ring in your pineals.
Secret lies under
the rotten bone chip of Hussain Sagar
deep under the ***** green lake,  
drowning the rainbow Buddha in the city of slimy immortal maggots on ham.
Open your eyes.
For the Gods will
Else
Cut your eyelids off
to show you that
the city's shardminds await you.
roaring
Playing close to the fire demons of Redland
A nail close to your wide open lid-less
White flowing eye.
Hear the city scream.
The deafening chaos,
In unison,
Intoxicating their venomous fruits
of the delirious worlds
Or simply put, divine prayer and offering
for
the Omnipotent,
Omniscient
And the
Om.
Shunya.
Or the cyclic abyss of meaninglessness.
But,
Like, the wilted azures
that seduced those flies,
From a far far away,
To come the praise the combs of their bellies,
Filled with the red from the omnipotent, dead, weak and evil
In one little fly belly.
They came from the
land called Lullaby.
To go there
from here,
But, first,
bear the Weasleys' infamous extendable ears and heed me now, for I say twice and See him Come.
The snake, the tangy smell of goated black rub and blueness.
Siva shouldn't come?
Not yet. A little DMT more in the brain and perhaps the spark will happen.
Better than the potions of those gigantic forest priests.
No, Heed me, now.

3 Dodos Walk-afar,
And, take the lone left-laden log
the one that is,
limitless Long
loyal and  let alone
By those
languors which
Killed
Lord Leopard Loot'.
While,
Lord's Lass
Lays lolled lambs,
Lolled ‘long le ******,
Leech on the laiden log,
leading to Lord Lava,
Yes.
The bridge of Casilii Po.

Of the Lord.
Guarded
By these bubbling bellies with a drop of the world's make.
Assassins.
the Fly, flies.

retain the scarification of theolden curse,
Older than the rocks underneath this gurgling lava,
On which reincarnation steams.

As destiny should have it,
the astrologers had seen,
3 centuries back
That at a Sphinx’s Wedding,
a war of Vision,
will break.
It will
Bring the Stars
Out of those melting blue nightsky of Neruda's wails;
And the diabolic estrangement inflicting Eagle,
From Meena’s vibes,
that rubbed of a distinct scent of Malabar embedding a little of everybody in the village,
on its Kasavu lines posing
at the focus
of Sahib's Ferguson or Baker.

The gold turned white.
A liquid white, like that of the sap,
For that,
***** on a parrot green rubber plant
And work your fun with the white gluey milk,
fragrant than the sap
Like the  Ylang Ylang buds freshly kissed by the drooly dew,
sealed away
elegantly in a crystal Indigo bottle by the pen stand.

One that glitters if you look at its surface, but smells of naphthalene ***** in the sink
in
that
creepy trailer in
mid salem night of the tut.
Colourful.
This is colorblind.

White is motile.
White is wriggling.
White is life.
With a **** of Eve’s fabric-less
Skin.
White is divinity
feeding you excess of everything,
With an tenfold over dosage injected intravenous, by a silver-haired-glow-in-the-dark-dodo-cupid;

She is divine.
**** Her.
**** her on a Pyre.
**** her innards on a fire.
inflame the bubble
of her her oily effluent you found on the toilet seat
Instil in her, the seed of your sodomic occult,
Not by compassion, but through a hiss and sting
of the
flawless venom of the diabolic.  
Then. Disinfect your fruit that you flicked off the paradise.
And bellow to the blowing gurgling below.  
A reign of ****  nihilism,
moaning the mood-swings-of-a-98-year-old-menopausing-Bhairavi of the Indian Aghora Tales;
And Shelly, fueled in his undiminished hearth with the help of his impetous West Wind,
dreaming lucid,
on a flight in the sky for one week,
with Lucy’s sewing  sequined buttocks,
Stinging their luminescent, lactating, lustrous skin,
Like a tatto machine, lifting rays into the epidermis
So that it roasts, burns a soot and neonifies the only colour
A shade of
The rave, rainbow-red karmas of human existence,
Its little greedy quantas waltzing around the matter
And of its unleashed illuminations
That fuel the same vessel in the universe,
infamously known as,
the
black hole.
Uggh!!
All characters and plots are fictitious.
Your nightmares are yours, not Caesar's.
This is truly the fruit of my insomnia. I have been awake 52 hours now. Had to rant the wakefulness out.
It is unedited. All those offended, I didn't mean it, you did.
Poetry by MAN Oct 2014
Go ahead **** my Vibe
Whip swings side to side
To your middle I will dive
Penetrate..take a ride
DOM..instruct you what to do
Vibrate you with my tool
Head spins as we *****
Wetness in you starts to drool
Submissive are many souls
Dominate fill their holes
Spanking one of many tolls
Hand print red starts to glow
***** love a part of me
Its sweet embrace my destiny
******* Tantric for eternity
Leave you laying blissfully..
M.A.N 10-2-14 Free flow poem for my ***-****** scorpio blog...♏
I can't be apathetic,
frantic, engulfed in the hectic,
overtaken by stasis,
stuck in this tantric,
****** by life position.

ANd i tiptoe to the edge,
looking both backward and forward,
wondering which direction i go,
will i explode?
am i already, is ..is...
this...ohhh my God, what the **** is happening ..is this,
is this it?

But if i sit here,
maybe it won't end.
Maybe i can hold onto the pleasure...
I end with the release
I live with  the questions,
what was it worth?
can i create something worth anything?
David Barr Dec 2013
Delve into the void where ecstasy spirals her sensuality into a cosmological inertia. Do you know what it is like to be suspended in catatonic amazement? If not, then trust the keeper of the cast-iron gate, because I know the power of your appetites. Ancient battles may be considered to be trivialised injustices in the age of self-aggrandisement. But justice will prevail, whilst the indelible character of history casts her shadow of memorable resilience, where Jacobean ghosts will never rest.
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
IF you are not a tantric how could you know tantric have secrets?
How did you know Freemasons in the lodge hidden away
have secrets too?

This is tantrism

We know  tantra means loom weaving, but what is woven together?

Like the right and left hands grasping…is that where true prayer happens?

opposites magnetic
union pragmatic
cosmic dramatic


dharmma and a-dharmma ,
duty and rule breaking
Sage or Demon, *

the tantric sees the fullness of the tapestry
before it is woven

Fire, Earth, Water, and Wind…

The breeze blows and There I am

Masculine power seems to require hierarchy
to pass on the sounds of the absurd

So if you hear their's in secret
and bring to bear its use
you may will fail…

but*

if an enlightened woman, warm with shakti glowing gives it to you
hold on
for it is yours

This keeps the inside safe from the outside.
Keeping harm from the uninitiated.

How many secrets do you really know?
the 108 sanguine rose beads keep track

like divine fingers across an abacus
tracing the age of the cosmos

Would be immortals know of 5 dangerous things that could swallow you

What do you know of the imbibement of

meat-fish-wine

Next

Was it secret gestures or parched grain???
Symbols set to confuse the rest
the secret remains the same

Forbidden in kind
the ****** relates to the mind

being undone, Mold Antipode to the Classic Culture

the mortal and immortal
human and divine

are secrets Immortal?

Like Ouroboros the Consumption may consume you…or free you.
Becoming a second Siva

what is???
mamsa
matsya
madya
mudra
maithuna

Thanks to Signe Jansen Cohen Muse Extra-ordinaire
https://soundcloud.com/skelicles/ash-to-mouth
TERRY REEVES May 2016
Thou didst not *******
I came of my own accord
now you tell me that you're bored
how can I improve on my sweet Lord

Thou art a ruffian - unskilled in the
art of *******, no tantric ***
more like Titanic with a hex
I always know what's coming next

Who wrote my script and said that:
I wouldst love you no matter what?
maybe it was you more likely than not
I must be thankful, pretend with what I've got

Now thou art coming again - never mind my pain
why is it that my loss has to be your gain?
Onoma Dec 2018
imagine the infinite

figure 8, as energy flow

running thru the earth.

being round, it has two

polarized chakric crowns.

the tantric male polarity:

Northern Lights/Aurora Borealis.

the tantric female polarity:

Southern Lights/Aurora Australis.

yet the figure 8 energy flow,

shows the tantric male/female

polarities have interpenetrated .

unified polarity...so it's north for

the sake of north.

south for the sake of south, beyond

that...
*Mother Earth & Father Sky are One.
Post ****** furnace boiling
The breeze kisses my flesh
She softly sings the sounds of bliss
Into my heaving chest
Unknown yet welcomed
The respite from heavy churning passion
Machines well oiled and primed
To deliver it's passengers through
Aeons in a few swift moments
She is my vessel and fellow traveler
Across the spiritual landscape
We have painted
Old canvas dusted and renewed
Under the Master's brush
His hand becomes mine becomes hers
Post ****** furnace boiling
New ideas, new vigor, new life
Toxic yeti Mar 2019
As you send message
Saying that you love
And the you worship
Me
I know you are potentially
A Buddhist monk
If years beyond mine
Time passes
My heart opens to you
And I wonder what
Tantric deeds
You may do to my
Senual body.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2012
Your face,
Tender, round and dimpled,
Framed with gilded, carved, tawny curled
Whirlpools of hair, long, lighted, and sparkling,
Your face is the face—
Of Ireland.

Your lips,
Full, moist and deathly deep,
Are wells, not well for me, not safe, taboo,
Tantric, tall told tales of brave Odysseus
Under Circe's alchemies
Of forgetfulness.

Your *****,
The zenith of blossom in fabled
Elysium, gateway to the forbidden gardens
Of sage and sinners, warrior-poets, Aphrodite's
Envy, Poseidon's drowning
And smoldering Zeus.
taylor roff Jul 2014
cut the ****
your getting old
its not time to quit
dont be what your told
the skills are there
im quit certin of that
lungs fill with air
You know it's not an act
filter fake failures from familiar fixations
Poetry by MAN Jul 2014
I bring my guns
Still a MAN of peace
My love evolves..I become a ****** beast
Yes I feast..insert my piece
Pop it in the West
Have you ******* in the East
*** Bandit..Alien from a ***** planet
My Rocket plug your socket inside I land it
Scorpio..Smoke you sexually till I'm ******
Slave to my sting you are about to get owned
Hey how ya doing may be wondering who I am
Just a poet who can flow it lay you down then slam
My tongue leave you sprung
Pound you like a drum
Glad you came.. Cause you are about to ***
Hum Hum yum yum I'm all about fun
Play all day still I'm not done
This poetry beast will have his feast
Lay you on table penetrate your crease
******* energy of the Tantric kind
Simultaneous explosion *** of the mind
There will be no stop for I cannot cease
Another chapter unfolds for this M.A.N of peace
M.A.N 7-18-14 I wrote this for my *** blog..It has been awhile since I posted a **** poem most are too raw for this site oh well I enjoy writing them..♏
ConnectHook Sep 2015
ཆོས་ཀྱི་རྒྱ་མཚོ་

Bards of the bardo, hear my lay;
ye glacial Himalayas, sway.
Raise a warming toast in sake,
while my mystic muse gets cocky.

You who seek enlightenment
unto whom these lines are sent
open wide your spirit’s portal
(you – who are not yet immortal)

as we weigh a departed soul
and hurl a vajra – let it roll
with tantric thunderclap appeal
while startled Bodhisattvas reel.

Turn from the heights with sober eyes
and under less celestial skies
let us scrutinize the preacher,
pop-star and Tibetan teacher:

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche
(born in a manger – so they say)
grew up deep in Eastern mountains,
fed by esoteric fountains.

Soon he became a monkish abbot
painting thankas, chanting sutra
in a saffron-colored habit
high above the Brahmaputra.

Later, the teacher headed west
suckling Maya‘s milky breast
selling used mantras on the way
to devas who came out to play.

Eventually, in Colorado
he rocked the Rockies, thrilled the Beats
Bringing to his own weird bardo
bolder moves and tipsy feats.

Crazy wisdom’s drunken master
clothed in smartly elegant style,
steered disciples toward disaster –
partying gleefully all the while.

He tantalized the Tantric flirts
by seeking Buddhahood up their skirts;
preaching, as their morals sunk
from The Tibetan Book of the Drunk

Meditating, glass in hand
life of the party (of the ******)
the master mingled with dakinis
deep in the bardo of red bikinis.

Leaving behind a score of tulkus
empty bottles, broken parts
books of empty words that fools choose
after charlatans steal their hearts,

Trungpa Rinpoche went down
shaman of shame, hung-over clown
and tried to mend his Karmic puncture
where the left-hand paths make juncture:

Axis of the All, he spoke
a massive Himalayan joke.
Chogyam’s sacred shambala
brought last laughs to the last hurrah.

When his Dharma-dream was ended
Trungpa woke in hell, a snowball;
karmic punctures still unmended
prisoner of the Bardo Thodol

Should you doubt the truths I tell,
the facts are documented well.
Crazy, isnt it? What we’ll take
from vajra-vendors on the make.
Limked version with images:
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/04/11/vajra-cast-from-golden-heights/
Aisyah Apr 2021
Trauma
We bond over
We fall in love with eachother
Attracted to eachother
You sealed it with a kiss on the mouth
And then on
My lower lips
You kiss
I know I have meet some genuine
I want you to be with me
As we make love
You made feel
Both emotional and psychological
Sensation when you
Just with a flick of the tounge
I moan in actual love
It’s almost tantric
Your
Loving touch
You say moan hard
Louder
And I do
Love me as we you
Sweetly dominate
Me
NSFW
Àŧùl May 2015
The saga in her eyes converts into a
Constant downpour soon after
She realizes her freedom from the spell of the dark witch,
The curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.
What land – what sea – what wind...
All my life now seems her story.

"Kind sailor thank thee for freeing me."
Her words reverberate throughout,
What wind - what land - what sea,
Everywhere is her presence as I can see,
The wind whispers her name in my ear,
Since a long long time now all I wear,
Is her scent in my immortalized memory.

"Will you stay with me forever, or,
Will you go back to the heavens?"

Though I really wanted her to stay,
I love her and realize what she felt,
I offered her freedom and a choice,
I was not binding her to me in turn,
Everything was instinctive from me.

She seemed in a serious dilemma,
Struggling hard she was in herself,
I again offered & insisted this time,
"It's better to go back to your world,"
But I knew that she loved me a lot,
She tried hard controlling but said,
"I am in love with you since long."

So I am quite right that she loves me,
I am sure even she can forget me not,
Beading all our memories together,
I now know how I can gain salvation,
Not being another self-centric tantric,
"But you don't belong here, dear,
You shouldn't torture yourself for a mortal."


After this, she now looks comfortable & composed,
Ready for making a choice she wore a heart of stone,
Her lips slowly parted revealing a perfect smile,
Pearly smile again ensured me of permanent happiness,
Bright eyes and shiny eyelids of hers seemed so good,
"You can't make me stay away because you love me too,
I will keep coming in your dreams and entice your nights."


But I wanted her in my real-world now,
I prevented her from vanishing again,
I said, "Please stay, now do not go away,
Because I really can not bear that pain,"

She had almost vanished by then,
Listening to my words she chose to wait,
She said, "Even I want forever to stay."

Continuing with her divine dialogue she said,
"Say those golden words to make me stay,"
I immediately confessed, "I love you, Angel,"
"Say you love me too, oh my divine Angel,"
She didn't wait for anything more to say it,
"I love you too, oh my kind & loving sailor,"
Her powers soon left her in a flash of light.
Does the 'Angel?' saga end here or is it a new beginning?

Well all of this angel series was my way of interpreting my own life till now in a poetic and mythical way.

The Angel I finally have gotten in my life is called Loneliness.

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/

My HP Poem #860
©Atul Kaushal
Toxic yeti Apr 2019
As I sleep
I dream I was visiting
A friend
Alas I She comes
Closer she becomes
This tantric demon
Trying to choke me
Wakes me up
From a death like sleep.
David Barr Mar 2014
Truth bares the deepest recesses of her concealed modesties.
Can you feel the resonating equilibrium of tantric sound as we connect across humanitarian divides?
Tears fill my eyes, as I bask in the presence of such elevated humility.
I am grateful for the wisdom of simplicity, as opposed to what may be deemed to be stupidity.
Let us join hands around this circle of cultic agreement.
vircapio gale Jul 2012
exude the moment;
you are a transformative fulcrum

of intersubject's rent and awe:
anthropomythic ecolaw

the dream cascades into words,
birds fly little crisps of meaning
into morning light. last night's
snow leaves a crystalline spark
of you subdued, become a finer point
of tantric sight, gazing rose-blue pulsar
lashing through a cosmic garden,
delicious fruit of spacious letting be.
i'm grasping for that pleasure,
vermillion moan of lifestring vibrance,
but the wind carries on outside,
swirling pieces of the mind in
flux of upturned joy~
our heartbreeze summoned,
now whispersssoulsounds to come
and earthly darkness grips the future frost,
thaw, break and steam as it wills;
the churning ground sings to us
of bear-sleep and jackal-howl,
of seasons transpiring,
one lost sled of memories
leaves us empty, pressing crystal sky:
my aching ideality trounced in bliss-meanders
!stunning revelation! you! You! yOu!
bringing all to be a second time,
as it was.. in me.. now new,
sweet novelty of union,
this gathering of nervure self,
gliding insights, sudden soundsss.

like a node of forest-echo swirls
it dazzles: unseen colors for my inner eye;
ancient tones of fog ripple
off something you are,
creaking center easing of my sidling,
spirit drop and wavelet growth:
as if you were a branching greenery
of my own once lost other-self,
last gasping there as what i pictured 'you'~
swayingss.. sun-spikes speaking,
sky-gaze and soaking barky iris sssuck,
moulding into me the wisdom of our past leavings,
those raspy kites of sap-filled yearnings
shadow sunshower evening.
i would be a tree with you and
let you pierce our foundations
with roots of gaiasight slipping though
our primal urgings, concrete deference
under sun arch, spin of moon. let
ignorant insistence on fetishized divides~
slipping past my grounded darkness
still unknown, remain
my underself unleashed
my silent trunk-swilling soothed,
stable chaos-other, self regiven,
life renewed in leaf,
the touch of you imbued.

the whole vision lost
but for that glimmer~
it finds me writhing unknown spirals:
ringing wonderment in a seed,
or dormant sporocarpic lineage of life,
the vast hyphae-humming cups of death-born
nethergenesis of cycled hyle me.
a womb that never knew of pain
or being evertorn in dessicated spectre-sea.

the burning desert-storms helixify our rain,
a heaving hiss-like suncry
from that dark, sandy baobabic throat.
the earth consumes in shifts,
and blossoms toward the alterbliss of you, too,
an expanse of solar flare
its beautific reach engulfing terribly,
nepho-logos spanning all the air.

ssssunlit boughs of winds' remembrance
grow soft across this window,
then shift with forest breath,
their snowlace puffed before
an azure true expanse,
the burdened greens stirring a needlish depth
of metawinter, all-too-human
starfields constellate in hiding
far behind my starshine there a curtain blue,
whose prismatic humor lights more
than scenic treescape, frigid dust.
hair, nose, glass enframed by sapless wood
of window cut to square my void revision of the world.

the colors whirl into mindflow,
inter-material upsurge-undulate,
abyssal cauldron seething passions stilled by
comic symbols of a secular mystic;
dancing eddies convey my sense of sight
just thought, then lost into a wider dance
of tensions eased and drawn,
of geometric visions seemly here and gone,
inner, outer: conveyed by stroke of
spinal eidos, its rhythm set
before my time, its tone the vital,
draping earthverse
recited in my veins, the sinews of my
life in other lives,
the song of us expressive in my gaze~
one blink()a single point of beauty
fades into another haze,
lighted icedrift iridescing evanesce.
anthropos (religion, Gnosticism) Man. (From Ancient Greek) [cf. Anthropogenesis, (an thro po jen’ e sis) n. Study of the development and origin of man]

myth·os/'miTHos/ Noun: A myth or mythology. (in literature) A traditional or recurrent narrative theme or plot structure.

*derew(o)- Indo-European root meaning "tree" or "wood"

Tantra, "weave, loom, warp"; or "principle, system, doctrine", from the two root words tanoti "stretch, extend, expand", and trayati "liberation"

Sporocarp (in fungi, known as fruiting body or fruit body): a multicellular structure in certain algae, lichens, and fungi on which spore-producing structures are borne.

Hypha · (plural hyphae). (mycology) Any of the long, threadlike filaments that form the mycelium of a fungus. The hyphae are used for reproduction and nutrient gathering.

hyle, In philosophy, refers to matter or stuff [fr. Gk "ulh" (üleh, where the ü is as in German or "lune"]

baobab, A short tree with an enormously thick trunk and large edible fruit. Other common names include boab, boaboa, bottle tree, upside-down tree, and monkey bread tree.

ne·phol·o·gy. n. The branch of meteorology that deals with clouds. [Greek nephos, cloud; see nebh- in Indo-European roots + -logy.]

logos, multivalent term fr. the Gk verb legein (soft g - modern greek lego ) "to say, speak" and also "to gather and lay down" ;  traditionally meaning "word, thought, principle, or speech"; also ratio (latin for reason), pre-linguistic language (phil.), the principle governing the cosmos, the source of this principle, or human reasoning about the cosmos. origin of  "(o)-logy." the active, material, rational principle of the cosmos; nous.  logos is marked by two main distinctions - the first dealing with human reason (the rationality in the human mind which seeks to attain universal understanding and harmony), the second with universal intelligence (the universal ruling force governing and revealing through the cosmos to humankind)

eidos, a term used by Plato for the abstract forms or ideas. fr. the Indo-European root *weid-, "see" is determinative of a substance; it is the key aspect expressed in the thing's definition as the essence or whatness of the thing. also (anthropology) the distinctive expression of the cognitive or intellectual character of a culture or a social group.
Àŧùl Jan 2020
XOXOXOX
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Doesn't Much Respond,
She Looks Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Spot Desperation In Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look So Clueless To Which He Simply Replied, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
7 Stanzas of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream
My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Again?
Now I Reached The Lands Again,
Still Dazzled And Confused I Was,
Oh How She Had Filled My Twilight,
Unable To Forget Her Divinely Touch.

Magical Touch Had Enchanted Me,
Able To Recall It From The Voyage,
I Stumbled When Disembarking,
Oh - It Was The First Time For Me,
My Thoughts Would Last Along.

After So Many Days At The Sea,
I Planned Of Bathing Properly,
Her Illusion Tricked Me Thereto,
Oh - How Her Traces Remained On,
Facing The Mirror, I Stood Perplexed.

Still Unable To Accept The Reality,
I Longed For That Night To Repeat,
My Heart Beats Angel In Each Beat,
Life Staged A Drama Too Crazy,
Unwilling To Accept The Reality.

My Body Carries The Vestiges,
I Turn Crazier With Each Bath,
Her Lips' Traces Keep Appearing,
Driving Me Mad Is Her Memory,
God! Bring Her To Life Once More.

I Had My Powers As A Commodore,
I Sent For The Captain Of My Ship,
"What Bothers You, My Commodore,"
And So He Asked Of Me Kindly,
Then I Told Him About Her Traces.

Smiling He Told Me Yet Again,
"I Had Told You To Get Married,"
I Agreed This Time And Nodded,
"Alright, Search For Me A Bride,"
Going Outside, He Smiled Plainly.
My HP Poem #766
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Surely?
Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy, Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Was Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...
My HP Poem #839
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Illusion?
I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.
My HP Poem #848
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Not Again!!!
I Recovered From The Night Again,
She Had Disappeared Once More,
Was She Using Me As A ******???

I Was Frustrated & Also Saddened,
My Self-Control Got Strengthened,
For I Was Not A Tissue To Be Used!!!

I Have My Feelings & My Emotions,
Presence And Absence Torture Me,
Ego I Had Tamed Got Hurt By Now...

I Won't Let That Elusive Angel Come,
Questioning I Must Be Her Realities,
Illusions Will End This Time Finally!!!

I'll Establish An Identity Of My Own,
Dependent I'll Not Be On The Angel,
Was She Just A Dream & No More???

I Had Duly Asked The Aged Captain,
To Search For Me A Lovely Bride Soon,
Oh, So Sure I Am About Afterwards...

I Was Tailed By The Spirit-Like Angel,
So Irritated By Her Dreary Dreams,
On-Off, Came-Gone, Again & Again!!!

I Now Would Learn Catching Angels,
With The Plan, I Went To The Mage,
Should I Now Learn Some Spells???

I Entered Through A Dark Alleyway,
Was Told To Visit This Strange Place,
What Comes Across - I Wondered...

I Knocked The Door & She Seemed,
Very Young She Seemed To Me Now,
Just The Age Of The Angel Of Dreams!!!

I Noticed That She Wore A Long Robe,
So Shiny It Was Silvery Like Her Hair,
Just Like The Angel Of Dreams Wore...

I Rubbed My Tired Eyes In Disbelief,
"Who're You?" I Asked Very Loudly,
"Are You The Mage's Daughter???"

I Wondered For Long & She Replied,
"Your Guess Is Correct, Kind Sailor,"
She Beckoned Me Into The Shack...

I Set My Foot On The Wooden Floor,
I Looked For Any Sign Of The Mage,
I Want To Be Set Free Of The Cage!!!

I Just Thought & Thought About It,
But The Witch Was Not To Be Seen,
Curious I Asked, "Where Is She???"

"I Am My Mother," She Said Calmly,
Perplexed I Couldn't Say A Thing,
My Mouth Opened Once & Shut...

I Was Now About To Rise & Go Away,
But She Stopped Me With Her Arms,
"I Must Show You," So She Did Say!!!

I Believed Not What My Eyes Saw,
How She Changed Into The Old Mage,
Then Back Into Her Own Daughter???

O I Had Become Confused A Lot Now,
Why Would She Transform Like This,
I Feared If It Was Actually The Angel...
My HP Poem #850
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Forever?
Seeing Me Anxious More Than A Lot,
The Old Witch Relented A Little,
She Let Me Breathe Freely,
Back Transformed Into Her Daughter,
She Touched My Forehead,
Then I Realized It Was Sweaty,
Seeing Her Lovely Care I Smiled A Bit.

So She Now Lit Up A Fragrant Incense,
The Incense Seemed So Soothing,
She Then Edged Closer To Me,
Transcendental Wings Were Visible,
She Came Even Closer To Me,
Then The Wings Simply Vanished,
So Traceless As If Never Been There.

It Must Be Yet Another Illusion,
The Very Day I Set Sail To Sea,
It Was Probably Carrying Over,
Troubling Me Each Non & Then,
In My Wild Dreams, I Had Seen,
True She Could Not Be & Was Not,
In My Life, The Torment Was Written.

Soon I Was Pleading To Her, Teary-Eyed,
"Please Don't Torment Me, It Hurts!"
She Looked At Me With Affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"


I First Remembered That Night At Sea,
The Night Back At Home Came Next,
I Had Been Seduced By Her Magic,
This Was The Real Picture Every Time,
I Was Weak But I Still Felt Warmer,
The Night Ship Feels Like Yesterday,
I Was In Confusion About What To Do.

Her Face Was Transitioning Rapidly,
The Old Mother To Her Daughter,
Her Daughter To That Very Angel,
And Back To The Old Mother Witch,
Her Smile Turned Into Laughter,
The Witch Laughing At My Cries,
Her Face Here Contorted A Lot.

She Seemed To Struggle A Lot,
As Though A Fight Ensued Within,
Soon I Figured It Out By Myself,
That I Must **** The Witch To Help,
So I Looked Around & Grabbed,
An Axe That I Spotted Lying There,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.
My HP Poem #859
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realizes her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind Sailor Thank Thee For Freeing Me."
Her Words Reverberate Throughout,
What Wind - What Land - What Sea,
Everywhere Is Her Presence As I See,
The Wind Whispers Her Name In My Ear,
Since A Long-Long Time Now All I Wear,
Her Scent Is Immortalized In My Memory.

"Will You Stay With Me Forever, Or,
Will You Go Back To The Heavens?"

Though I really wanted her to stay,
I Love Her & Realize What She Felt,
I Offered Her Freedom & A Choice,
I Was Not Binding Her To Me In Turn,
Everything Was Instinctive For Me.

She Seemed In A Serious Dilemma,
Struggling Hard She Was In Herself,
I Again Offered & Insisted This Time,
"It's Better To Go Back To Your World,"
But I Knew That She Loved Me Too,
She Tried Hard Controlling But Said,
"I Am In Love With You Since Long."

So I Am Quite Right That She Loves Me,
I Am Sure Even She Can Forget Me Not,
Beading All Our Memories Together,
I Now Know How I Can Gain Salvation,
Not Being Another Self-Centric Tantric,
"But You Don't Belong Here, Dear Angel,
You Shouldn't Torture Yourself For A Mortal."


After This, She Now Looks Comfortable & Composed,
Ready For Making A Choice She Wore A Heart Of Stone,
Her Lips Slowly Parted Revealing A Perfect Smile,
Pearly Smile Again Ensured Me Of Permanent Happiness,
Bright Eyes & Shiny Eyelids Of Hers Seemed So Good,
"You Can't Make Me Stay Away Because You Love Me Too,
I'll Keep Coming To Your Dreams & Entice Your Nights."


But I Wanted Her In My Real World Now,
I Prevented Her From Vanishing Again,
I Said, "Please Stay, Now Do Not Go Away,
Because I Really Can Not Bear The Pain,"

She Had Almost Vanished By Now,
Listening To My Words She Chose To Wait,
She Said, "Even I Want Forever To Stay."

Continuing With Her Divine Dialogue She Said,
"Say Those Golden Words To Make Me Stay,"
I Immediately Confessed, "I Love You, Angel,"
"Say You Love Me Too, Oh My Divine Angel,"
She Didn't Wait For Anything More To Say It,
"I Love You Too, Oh My Kind & Loving Sailor,"
Her Powers Soon Left Her In A Flash Of Light.
My HP Poem #860
©Atul Kaushal
I was suggested to put together all these related poems by my friends, readers and mentors.
My HP Poem #1822
©Atul Kaushal

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/
Andrew M Bell Feb 2015
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Afterlife Airlines.
I’m your pilot, Captain Meta Physics.
Please fasten your sleep belts
as we are about to leave the body.
Please direct your attention to your stewardess
while she demonstrates safety procedures.

In the event of a drastic reduction in karma,
a mask will fall down from above you.
Place it on and breathe deeply of pure love.
Should those passengers who are clinically dead
find themselves returned by a surgeon’s skill,
the life raft under your seat will inflate
with a new sense of purpose.

After take off the stewardesses will serve milk and honey.
For your entertainment, the movie is
anything with Shirley Maclaine in it
or there are seven channels of chi
on the chakra-phones being dispensed soon.
For those contemplating joining the Tantric Mile High club,
please be considerate of your fellow passengers.

We’re making good time because
the breath of God is always behind us.
Below us to the right is the Ocean of Ego
and to our left some passengers may glimpse
the chain of islands: Faith, Hope and Charity.

We’ve been advised that it’s a little busy on The Other Side
so we’ve been placed in a holding pattern
on the astral plane.
Passengers are reminded to retrieve all emotional baggage
for security reasons
and please help Customs
by declaring all religious preferences.

Ladies and gentlemen, we’re cleared for landing now.
On behalf of the crew, I hope you enjoyed
your transdimensional flight with Afterlife Airlines
and we hope to see you aboard again soon.
Please fasten your sleep belts,
we’re coming in for reincarnation.
Copyright Andrew M. Bell. The poet would like to acknowledge The Press (Christchurch) who published an edited version of this poem.
Poetry by MAN Aug 2014
Tell me your secrets
Let me be your desire
Melt into each other
Burn in passions fire
Tantric touching
Position bodies hunching
Tongue my guide
Feel me inside
Smooth as I slide
Face  a roller coaster ride
Treasures need a map to find
Inside you buried is mine
*** can be a naughty thing
If body is all you choose to bring
Tease me tell me I can't touch
Fuels me..till our bodies crush
Crumbles my heart of stone
Exposed I am a M.A.N of bone
Incomplete pieces gone
Inside you I was all along
******* energy flowing strong
Stroke you short.....feel me long
Built up to a mighty swing
Infinite love is what I bring
Every ****** a new height
Scorpio sting feel my bite
Wrap around hold on tight
Focused energy hitting it right
Frictions heat all is felt
Becoming one as we melt...
M.A.N 7-7-14
Indian Phoenix Oct 2012
Oh, my stoic... whatever happened to you?

At 6'4 you could stare down anyone in the room with your stern dark eyes. People might take you for melancholy until you told one joke with your deadpan humor. But you were a little morose, in your own way... is it because you're a Cancer? Or were you searching for something that only your mind could find for you? I never knew. Stoic and enigmatic are **** near the same thing, after all.

You, with your hundred dollar jeans worn after your yuppie yoga classes. You might not have worn Converse sneakers or thick-rimmed glasses (thank God)... but don't think I didn't see those expensive flannel shirts from Nordstrom's in your closet. Is there such thing as a hipster fashionista...fashionisto? I remember you approved of my Lucky brand jeans. They were a gift. Hand-me-downs. I didn't tell you that.

How elegant that you would grab Moroccan mint tea when coffee was no longer your thing. Sure, you'd down so much wine after dinner I'd worry you an alcoholic... but caffeine? Something about not liking dependence, you said. I savored watching you drink tea when we'd work side-by-side in some of the city's independent coffee houses. You wouldn't be caught dead in a Starbucks.

I do hope you make your amazing Turkish coffee, if only for your next love. Did I say "love?" No... maybe your next tryst. That's more your speed. I still can't taste cardamom without thinking of you.

And oh, your guitar... you'd strum the chords as if you were solving a riddle: quiet, to yourself. Leave the simple "Wonderwall" for neophytes because you could play Django Reinhardt. Unsurprising that a person like you would have a music performance degree from New York University. Every note you played was expensive. And you knew it.

It wasn't just the way you strummed Spanish flamenco while I made us quinoa stuffed squash in your small kitchen. You had to play the cool music before it was cool--nothing so trite as Vampire Weekend or Kings of Leon; only the sweet whispers of Priscilla Ahn for your sensitive ears. I'd desperately try recalling obscure artists from my college days and try to keep up. Album Leaf? Mirah? I got a half smile mentioning Bela Fleck.

Do you remember, how we'd smoke hookah on your soft leather couch? I'd read your book aloud on tantric Buddhism as you'd light the candles. Once the room filled of cinnamon, we'd inhale exotic rose-flavored tobacco and watch documentaries imploring us to free Tibet.

Even your ******* name was exotic; foreign. My mother didn't like it, you know... she worried a man like you would always be patriarchal.

It didn't matter that your days were spent wondering if your law degree was worth it; because you had other dreams. Dreams of foreign service and pro bono nonprofits.

But somewhere in the planning of those dreams, we fell out of touch.

You ended it. I knew you would.

In the worst of my thoughts, I assumed you ended it to find a woman who was everything I'm not, but who I desperately wanted to be. She'd be an international human rights lawyer. A yoga teacher. She'd take yearly trips to hike the Grand Canyon and go on meditation retreats in Bhutan.

2 years later, I've moved on. I won't need 2 glasses of wine to feel comfortable in your presence (as I once did). I've found someone else; we're happily married. He'll never have your enigma, but he lets me in his world. It's not a world of Ghirardelli hot chocolate on winter nights, obscure records and hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese restaurants. But he encompasses everything I needed that you couldn't give: warmth.

I hope you're well, my stoic sophisticate.
Toxic yeti Dec 2018
I was threatened
With tantric ****
Online
I refuse to be a statistic
I want to be a survivor
I refuse to be a survivor
I need to thrive
Through this
I found
Why I am on this planet
To stop this
From happening
To someone else
Not enlightenment
I know
The sad fact
That I am
Still a statistic.
But I am much more
Than that.  
I am a human.
Tantra is the Buddhist *** art. And **** is *** with out your permission. The predator that I meet and talk to threaten me with tantric ****.  It basically **** but with Tantra involved.  

Read this to know more

https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/i-was-a-tantric-***-slave-1069859.html
Vedanti Jan 2018
Dear Papa,
Yesterday I saw something that I didn’t understand.
They were walking a little ahead of me.
But walking isn't the right word,
because there were two people
and only two feet.
It sounds like a math problem,
But nothing added up in my head.
It sounds like Vikram Vetal, papa,
But unlike the story you told me the other day,
there was no strong king or sly demon.
I saw, however, one ***** underfed boy of eight
dragging his crippled mother across the street.
Adhunik Shravan bal.
A Lilliputian on a Herculean task.
I couldn't decipher her age.
When you're that poor, does age matter?
Do they keep count of the days that pass by
when their aim is to survive just one?
Do they have a mirror to look into
and count the wrinkles on their face?
What does age matter to an eight year old boy
who, instead of attending school,
is hauling his handicapped mother across the road
on a seating board with wheels?
When I was that age, papa,
you bought me a skateboard
that was the exact leaf green
from my 50 colours oil pastels set.
I couldn't see the colour of their clothes.
There was the dark of the night,
yellow of the street lights
and everything was in sepia
like the picture you showed me
of your childhood.
You once told me you were raised in poverty too, papa.
Are there different kinds of poverty?
Did you get toys to play with
or were your clothes in sepia too?
I told you this sounds like a math problem, papa,
And here’s what doesn't add up.
Isn't a parent supposed to hold their child's hand
and show them how to cross the road?
I remember holding your hand,
looking left-right-left
and matching my steps
with your strides.
Fast, but never run.
Who taught him, papa?
Did he have his own papa to teach him?
How did he learn to walk fast enough
and pull hard enough
so that he and his mom made it across the road in time?
How did he find the strength if he was underfed?
He truly reminds me of Shravan bal,
because who else would carry his mother
across such distances.
I told you it sounds like Vikram Vetal, papa,
and now that I think about it, it really does.
Maybe this little boy is a young king.
Maybe he brings his vetal back home every day.
Maybe he hears her talk about her day.
And maybe, papa,
when he succeeds every night,
she saves him from an evil tantric.
An evil tantric called hunger.
Lucky melanson Jan 2021
Let me be your she yeti
Let me have my way with you
As we couple as two loving women
You go into a unusual position
While
I make love to you
And your flower
K Balachandran Jul 2014
A bedspread on which bold, red and blue
esoteric, Tantric, motifs embrace
copulating triangles, the ideogram of cosmos
batik printed in vermilion on it's center
is spread, right there on the play-field of cupid
where the confluence is to happen,
a transmitting point of fecund energies to infinity,
a point on the spring board to transcendence

Beloved, here in the holy fire, receive in ecstasy,
the sacrificial offering I bring from the
incessant Ganga of my lineage,

Shakti and Shiva come in for divine union,
together here on the mark beyond time and space.
right in the center is "THE BINDU" the mystical point
both culmination and beginning of the 'beyond'
passage from here  to timelessness of cosmos, we invoke.

Here Shakti is holy fire leaping up for Shiva's offering,
sublimated they fuse, may that be the seed for karmas lumenant.
K Balachandran Mar 2015
1.
Eyes, eager fish, in deep Himalayan blue, splash and swim
the ultramarine sky of the mind, gets color coordinated, in resonance
wind from across the ranges, incessantly chant  guttural "Öm"
gently spreads waves, that on ears, vibrate as music,divine
our feet get liberated from mind's control,  the trek becomes us.
2.
Eyes now, turn swifts, fly to the valley extending to horizon,
teeming with flowers of every hue, profusion of orchids,
rolling white clouds above,create *tantric patterns
of grace, swirls, swoops,scoops, somersaults,the trek goes on.
3.
Melting ice, fits well on the conical brown mountain tops,
a white bodice, perfect cover for her lovely peaks,
angular mounts gleam in the limitless avalanche
of light, an impulse for benediction is palpable.
4.
Simple folks of village, on the way side
in flowing colorful dresses *****, tall poles
festoons of bright colors, joyous prayer flags   flutter in wind
proclaims festive spirit, they vigorously wave.
5.
Now heart overwhelms, sings the paeans of
a sky that changes it's face from blue to white
and sometimes, a hue so bleak, deep gloom,
on red brown earth, sun light prances around.
6.
The grass bed then transforms quick,
mind drinks the dense benediction peace brings
that coils inside the soft blue waves, beating within and out
7.
Himalayan blue has taken us in to it's embrace
bird songs ring along the path of ancient sages,
who went in to the forest abode to contemplate, never returned,
became one with the hum of cosmos, they walk within us.
*Tantra-an esoteric practice which use" fractal diagrams' of complex geometrical formations  as a means to create resonant vibrations, to the level of cosmic energy,as a means to raise to higher consciousness.Tantra makes use of "Panchamakara"(Five Ms in Sanskrit)which are "Madya"(wine):"Mamsa"(meat),"Matsta"(fish)"Mudra"(esoteric gestures)"Maidhuna"(Ritualistic ***), as taboo braking elements to reach higher consciousness.This is the less travelled path and hence called "Väma marga"(Left hand path)

— The End —