Tag Archives: soul

Celestial Transitions

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Celestial Transitions

In the sunlight, there is noise: an unharmonic noise of a turbulence above me, as I am deep into layers, buried beneath pressures that seems to defend me. They defend me as walls, which I am not sure if are choking me further or helping me break the ruthlessness of the storm.

In the dark, there is silence. There is silence of Nothing, a nothing reaching out to me in hope to be seen & felt as something.

In white light dimming drowsily beneath sheets of smoky silk, I am following footprints from a life before.

The light steals me from a self-knowing best achieved in a tranquility of perceived ignorance. In the pain on this ignorance, I may have known myself better. But we have to wait now, for another day to pass; we have to wait a half-life or so, more.

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Seeking Madness…!

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I want the madness within me, whoever that is, to exude, and to exude itself with full force.  I crave for a madness that bares me naked to the world, in this world where the competition lies in the lies to hide the human reality. I want the freedom not to choose what is expected of me, for the sake of a man-made life, to be chosen. I want the choice of love, a dream of the material death, life of the soul. I want not to be a king to the people, nor to be the people to a king, except in a kingdom where the king is a purity being the only truth I know of.

Tell me not, that what I desire for is the unattainable, for that would make you an absolute liar, in the eyes of what you might label as absolute madness; if you tell me though, that I’m losing my mind, I shall understand what you imply by the word ‘mad’ and why so, but I won’t agree with your definition. There IS no definite anyway, other than the ultimate truth of purity. The sooner all of us admit to this reality, the better it is for the journey towards the nothingness that awaits us, inside of us.

I believe in the unseen and know of the unknown; yet what is known to me is nothing, and I’m content with that. I also know that if I fail to accept the world, I might be rejected by her as well, but that has ceased to scare me anymore; for the world prefers to believe in the visible, and thus it does not know the charm that lays concealed in the ‘not knowing’, the mystery of the invisible.

I HAVE been on the other side, on the darker side of death. Death is the gap between the spark that ignites and then burns fiercely, each day, to seek the truth, and the knowing of the fact that the sought for is in close proximity of the seeker. And as this space goes unnoticed with time, it expands so much as to reach the extreme opposite of the truth, and shedding life along the way, itself turns into THAT very death one day. I was somewhere close to that point of no return, and then a miracle happened, and I became a believer, both of miracles and of the miracle-maker.

This was not a scientific coincidence, like the apple pulled down by gravity and bouncing off the tip of Isaac Newton’s skull. This was not like the giant leap for mankind by the first step set on Moon’s surface. This was not like developing in the security of my mother’s womb and finally making it to the jungle outside. This was not like any chemical or even herbal drug that any person has ever experienced or ever will: This was a lot, lot more than all of these combined and many more of what I had been mistaking for (a desired) life. This was coming back to life itself, by watching only a glowing particle of the tip of the iceberg after having driven a ship into the middle of destruction and having assumed death of the self for what had seemed like centuries. This was strange, weird, dramatic, beautiful and many more words which have not even been invented yet by man, and probably never will either!

Written on: 25-06-2012

The Bird of Love (takes flight?)

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The Bird of Love (takes flight?)

I
Pity the fool who claims
to have fallen in love;
to have fallen in love
with a fool like me…!
What shall you gain,
except for a desire
to reflect on yourself
in the name of love,
in the name of a love
that is true in YOUR world.

And, what shall you gain,

than a desire perhaps,

to deflect yourself,

to despise yourself,

in the name of a ‘love’,

true only, in your world.
This love for a dame
As wandering as I,
As gentle as I,…
As ‘deceiving’, as I.

Though yes, of course,
I never deceive for the sake
Of deception,
Or to settle for some other
object of affection…
But there’s nothing here
you would like to own;
Not even this heart:
this lump of flesh,
this vessel, of blood…?

My blood a life,

a life not mine,
only to be shared,
never surrendered
completely,
And never given away:
Given away, so as to
render me lifeless!

This heart belongs,
truly, to the one,
Who strives not
for the sinful bliss
seized in the chimera:
a mistaken feeling,
of possession.

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II
“Be mine”, he says.
I say, “Be yours first.”
He says, “I AM mine.”
I say, “So am I.”

……
He looks at me,
Anticipating,
eager, “So are you, what?
….Mine?!”
“No, I am mine too,
just as you are yours.
My madness, for me;
My laughter, for me.
And what could you share,
but only a few hours,
hours by the clock?
You share your body,
But your eyes block me out,
Block my passage to your soul.”

Taking my words
for a passing remark,
for a poet’s thought:
fleeting, yet haunting;
He tries to convince me,
“My soul is yours.”
I answer,
“So you thought to give me
what you want for yourself,

the least?”

A wise bargain indeed,
coming from a man
too much of the world;

a world, strange indeed,

to a stranger as I.