The cooking recipes are
never shared
I lit a bonfire inside
and fight with them
to let them go

I would never get up from my bed
and
get cold

a small light slides in
through the closed doorway
I would want to toast
for the light holding itself there

say, give me a hand
go easy
peel me like a potato
I'm here for you for a
reason

eat well so you can feel well

Seeing.

One big eye as it is
If I see
I see through that alone
That is my vision
That entire vision is
my consciousness


A minor movement in that
vision also
changes then the pattern of my
breathing
altering my state of
consciousness

Here there everywhere
never fixed
is my state of consciousness

That movement of one big eye
is how I understand
would be the movement of life
creating, sustaining and in
constant movement.

UB40 Higher Ground 1993

No freedom here
Movements between ones and zeroes
Every millisecond of my time

Actions matter
Not reactions
Reactions can never
help me
When alone

Life has a charm of it's own
YET
It has to be lived in
a Yes or a No

Happiness as it is
Experienced by me
In moments
That came and went

Sparks of brilliance
Insights in to me
About a an enormous joy
present in
In moments that came and went

Isn't it time enough now
For me
To look in to these
The source and the many many things
Of stimulus
From inside or outside

The knowledge always came from outside
But it needed me to exist in me
This is how and when my body was born
This is how the content in my mind
came about

This knowledge is what limits the moments of
Joy in me
It requires time to gather
And hence it can be lost too in time

There is a choice
there

Let me now with
This automatic process of thinking
Keep moving
Till it slows down on it's own
Naturally
Peacefully

A screenplay enacted
Dictated by the grounds that
I stood on

Curtains would now never come
down
It knew it was dealing
with realities

The chairs
all of them were empty
But in love with the ideas
the screenplay stood on


Nothing would come to end
An end in ME.

Looking deep down in space

Summers Autumns Winters
Looking deep down in space

Answers don't come
They exist and
This is not a belief
Not hope
Nothing
As of now
Just looking deep down in space

An algorithm
Not a word
About you and me
I die if
The bells don't ring
Till then
Looking deep down in space

When a NO can never be an answer.

Everything that I know
I use them
or
Contradict them
I think that I do
No complexities here
So
In this visibility
A No can
never be an answer

Delusions exist
Abilities also manifest
Within these there is freedom
Possibilities flow from passion
So
In this visibility
A No can
never be an answer

I have had many many lives
Not in imaginary other births
or
Some imaginary time line
But from the point of my
Coming into existence here
To where I am now
So
In this visibility
A No can
never be an answer

Emotions always stem from
a FROM
Valuations that deserve to stay
or of getting over it
So now this way
or that way
Makes what one calls sense
So
In this visibility
A No can
never be an answer

All I need is
Saying to myself
"I'll do it."

A life shivers in a body
Put your hand here on my chest
You read home, don't you?

Eyes remain focused
The memories of a friend brings in tears
You can't turn back
Can't look back
No one's there
Just my eyes
Zeroed on an image

It seems like a mystery
It is one
And yet I can say to myself
"I'll do it"

A Love Story

Open up a box
Leaf through the diaries
Weep if you want
Laugh if you can

My first of everything
In the scents of my pages
Breezes bring me to a particular.....
A sweet smile
That would not let me worry for
anything around

I laugh
for the idiot I was
I smile
for the beauty she was

If only she had looked at me

The Little Child's Rainbow

I stood by the trees
Still in the winds
A calm water and some
Whistling leaves

Come sit by me
There is a book by you
In it let us
Read chapters of you
Of how you looked
Through your windows

I have a story for you too
About a rainbow over the black clouds
And how it promised
A little child
The heaven that waited
Above those dark clouds

What is cosmic about self
Dependence on authority is

If death cannot be experienced by me
Singing I exist is a joke

Lets explore the being of void
Or talk of reflection from our memory
How do I recognise and bring in me a hunger

Separate me from me
I know a lot about me
That is not wanted by me
And all that is wanted by me

A self in solitary confinement
From the moment it separated itself
from consciousness and lost itself in
Self consciousness

Finding a concept of self objectively
has to be equal for all to sustain
(only equal?)
Yes only equal and that is how all form and
function came in to being

Objectively cells are distributed in a body
Inter personally
Not so with living beings who are
distributed culturally

I am

I am not into sociology
Not into neurology
Never in observation
Neither below nor above
Consciousness

No levels
Or multilevel
Patterns describing me in flow of time is an
Illusion

Regular movements of memory
Happening all the time
Not from a core
Neither from an autobiography

It is
Something to be known
From that is already
Known

EMPTY

Only a painter knows
Knows in nature
That all things are
By their nature
EMPTY

The painter's canvass holds
The potential to carry
It's madness
It's story
The interrelationship between it
And the Canvass
The Empty canvass

It's self then being
The creator of it's self
Not about truth
Not about false
All about colors that fill that
EMPTY

轻松进入我的生活。

I held myself in vibration
In Life
In feeling
All in the how

Was it vague
Was I at some distance

Awareness came
About some next step
Living that moment in
How

No, No, No,

We always are
We are in abundance
And I hold myself in this vibration

As it should be
It is

Things we talk about are
interrelated
Sourcing the consciousness
through breathing

As it should be
It is

Lets talk about a thought
a form that is you
A glorious state of joy
To who you are

As it should be
It is

The "I"ness in you is not creative
it is addictive
You always would be
as you learn this allowing the process

As it should be
It is

Tap in to you
And flow
With ease and light

As it should be
It is

Open questions hidden well
I and you in parallel thoughts
Primary you and me in seeing
Stood there when the sun rose
And never moved till it set

Existence applies to entirety
To everything inside of me
The elements of my emotions
Creative as well as destructive

Contradictions have causes and
That reality is never hidden
Understanding that brings in energy
I in this energy
Connected to you

Once upon a time,
A very long time ago,
There was a writer in love with life,
He only loved to talk about life and
Listen to it.

He travelled a lot,
And understood the importance to find a good place to rest.

Once on one such place,
A resting place,
A very long way from home,
An unspeakable happened,
Without saying a word,
All he could hear was the flames burning,
And his heart beating.

First he lost time,
Then life asked,
"Would you want to hear your fortune?"
"No" he said
"My seduction fell short."
"For a writer like me, yes."
"Had I been a slave of satan?"
"I would have been of nobler birth then."

He paused for a very long time wondering,
Was it all written that I would carry my
Love all along

I adopt
To my selective

Imaginations are there
And we may have been built for them too

Knowledge is a product of evolution
And not the brain as
The patterns there are never same
They can't be even called a pattern
What happens is
Is very dynamic and unstable

How am I connected to you as
The movements are intense

Is the self in the cell or
Outside of it because
Neurons adopt to realities they find themselves in

I can learn
So can you
How through a two dimensional objective knowledge
We perceive our world
Our selective world

Purpose decides interpretation

Of reality and of emotions



Fit myself somewhere

Is not an easy task



Working assumptions

Are for only the goals that I pursue



How important is experience

Framed through

Objective elaboration alone



Thoughts being born thus

Which may not find any neural networking

Alters the nature of reality



It is not something beyond

Externally we are very advanced

And the purpose is my ease of my mind

Which becomes the purpose of my reality

Which is never beyond



What is me

Is what I explore

And then the

Purpose decides interpretation

Of reality and of emotions


The highest standpoint is
Learning the mind

Conditioned waking
Realizing you and me

Perceptions of then
My feelings
And emotions arising
Conditioning the dreaming

You see
Knowledge
In continuity
An intellectual conditioning
Filling in and pouring out of
Joy

I the source of me
In wakeful dreaming and intellectual state
You know the inhabitants
In union with it

IS THIS

In what is
To be

The knowledge that cannot accept
Now
In what is
To be

I am aware and can that help
Now
In what is
To be

Rare questions coming from text books
Now
In what is
To be

Identification of stickiness
Now
In what is
To be


A mind speaks and exposes
Now
In what is
To be


What knows the mind
Now
In what is
To be


Describe me intellectually
Now
In what is
To be


Consciousness establishes my position
Now
In what is
To be


What could never be wiped away then or
Now
In what is
To be


All my years, everything and all elements
Now
In what is
To be


It's my language in my dream
Now
In what is
To be

An emerald with bright colors
And I have to choose just
One color at a time

If I wait
I waste my time
That is being dead

I cannot pretend I'm ok
Cannot fall in the trap
Of positive/ negative thinking structure

One color at a time
Regardless of how it will work out
Life is everything
And I'm aware of it

Life is
And it's fun

Just like an emerald
With bright colors

If I say I'm angry
Then it can never be chemical

Whatever I do
Matters

This is it
Nothing to know more than this

Even if you call it miserable
Things if they are
They are to be

The Workings

If I label this
PAIN
It cannot be healed

If I negate everything
That everything
Cannot be wiped out

Between me and life
This 'US'
Is ultimately shattered

How drunk am I
I'm fine
Would I find someone new

A pillow case
Sailing in time
Feels so me

Save me
Are you good at that?

I am ok
Been ok for some months now

Happy too
Sensitive, yes that too

I am a beautiful person
Call me miserable

I can't hear you though
Lets talk about it

I think
I know
I see
The flames
Sometimes I laugh
It is so me

Just to see when

My Memory

It gives me moments
Takes me on
I paint it
Talk to it
Ask it to shut up
Learn skills to sharpen it
Look up to it
Make love to it
Write about it
Share it
I give up on it
Sedate it
Sometimes wish for a wipe out
But I guess the MEMORY has a journey of it's own
I fool around & call it MY MEMORY
It is mine & yet....
Look at me
Tell me what happened?
And who can answer this....


The gaps are filled in with time, Always.

The Child Song

Noises and more noises
Of birds and flights
Of honey and flowers

What they were today
Is what they will be today

Noises and more noises
Of a child running in circles
Of a man asking about his I

What they were today
Is what they will be today

Noises and more noises
Of the fun of finding out
Of the wings old and new

What they were today
Is what they will be today

Noises and more noises
Of the clock that ticked
Of coffee and smokes

What they were today
Is what they will be today

Noises and more noises
Of my name and that stranger who left me tonight
Of about things that I wanted to share with you

What they were today
Is what they will be today

Noises and more noises
Of the desires of an empty stool by the bar
Of where to go for the real blacks and real whites

What they were today
Is what they will be today

How do you explain time?
Where I stop
And where do I advance to

Seeing is in time

Seeing is always in time
What brought me here and was
I just in time

Am I sleeping
or
Am I awake
Seeing it is real
The dream or the proof of dream

Woke up and
Walked out

Pavements of broken stones
Not a stone out of place
Carrying canes and times

Death - a perception
An eclipse - of love

Somehow
However funny this sounds
When life is done with a body
It blows it up

isn't it always
that it's the action
which tells the story

I am in now

The good guys
The bad apples
and a police man inside all of them
captured by us brilliantly

Joy

Mitti ko mutt kahein - sut hi ko putt kahein,

Kanchan ko bhukan, katari loha bhakk hai,

Peetar ko zhari kahein - bawarien khalari kahein,

Neer ko tarang kahein - kasiin thari aankh hain,

Baai ko bhagura kahein - tej ko masura kahein,

Kat hi ho mutt kahein, naam do rakh hein,

Tesehi aap ish hi ko jeev kahein,

Aap toh behosh rahein, ish pare bakh hein.

Testify me
In a feeling
In memory

Understanding conditioning
and the
Totality of all
As in a process
Of truths and transformations
of
How an I governs

Source and the recognition
Who knew this
The mystics
And the biologists
And was it
As knowledge or as a fact



Why do I maintain
this separation all
the time.

With even things around.....

At all times?

ANYWHERE

The cloud had no path
No path
It was yet in a certain job
It had to evolve
By default

A change took place
To come
In a mortal cloud
It had a life
That was a potential
It wasn't only a cloud

It saw anger
Frictions
It saw itself compelled
It was life
In the path
Of no path

No somehow
No source
Yet all of this
Felt like a sunflare
That it could travel
ANYWHERE.

The inside
What's that to me
What's that of you to me

The inside of me to me
Are these million thoughts
Nothing mysterious
Something that you can't
Hear or Know

I am this that or the other to me

It's a world in which I exist
What interests you
What is that you want to know
What is that you observe

My conduct
How I tie my shoe laces

See and try and observe or
To understand the
World in which I exist

I look at you for the same reasons
To know your insides
From the actions of your outsides

You would throw me some abstractions
You keep quiet
You like or don't like your insides

You study people
As a mind concept
You try to want you
You want to know it
And I see it
Just as you see it

If I tell you
It's the same

But we want to put questions
To ourselves
To make something come about
To some imaginations of the seeking

Where am I sad
Where am I happy
Where do I rest
Where do I move
Where do I remain same
Where am I in a movement
Where do I go to sleep
Where do I wake up to

Now I don't want to know
What I need to make of me
Things that I am interested in
Remain as it is

Nothing necessary
In all fields
Something that you make
Make of you from an so called inside
To know what's inside of me

I can't explain
This out melting

A moment to spare
All I see are traces

A prayer "I DO"
The conversations are all limited
Except the dance that you insisted

The I amused to wear I
Tightens up

I am
And what can change that
Giving me my very best

"Goodmorning Mr. Raj"
Me on an invisible mode
As my response of that Goodmorning was

I looked in the mirror
The image did seem mad
True upto a point

Would you love the color of the bottle or
What's inside
"Yes a friend would be fine"

Stay in just that long
Linger for some moments more
What could be more serious
A memory or convenient being old

"Goodmorning Mr. Raj, would you light me up"

The truth from truth
An inside from inside

How is a thought
These many many years also thoughts

A force called life
An act of see

A duality that says Hi
With myself or my ideas

When I say I am awake
All multiplies and then follows


Memories and its continuity
My own story in my dream

Deeply deeply out of this
An inside from an inside

Just walking around

Inside of me no boundaries exists. No separation & no union there. If everything outside of me comes from an inside of me, how could the boundaries exist outside too.
Does the coin really have two sides? (Crazy)

I shouldn't have laughed. They cut the ropes of the elevator.
It made me laugh louder. Can't help it.
Anarchy?

Awareness is bought out
Always......
There is an effort there
Time starts it's play
Concepts come in to being

The cloud watched as
it sailed
It's sky did not
come and go

If the sky was there
before
It was there before
If the sky would always
be
It would always be

NoIwithintheI.

Questioner: So what did you do the whole night?
Me: Oh us, we just laughed the night out , I guess for the fun of it.


--------------------

It was -
How one could wonder
How one could dream

A blink
And it was -
The first rays of sun
As if the sky knew
That it never slept

That it knew why it never slept
It was our canvass
It was our dream
We painted the morning
We Painted

Oh Yes! we just laughed
The night out
I guess for the fun of it.

I spoke on behalf of me
I was dreaming and
It was in multiplicity
In that I was a thousand things

I was reborn
From my last thought
It was new
But from the last and
It was in multiplicity
In that I was a thousand things

I was in an event
It came from a want
A want from a feeling and
It was in multiplicity
In that I was a thousand things

It's a funny thing
This what is called
A truth
When was it to my advantage
Never
Nothing at all
It cannot stay there
Where you think you are

My seeing is not my discovery
No concept and it's how absurd
At the same time
What unfolds is my ease
No playing here
Nothing independent

Will moves
And
I stay put with it
I see me returning
To me
Not from an outside
Neither from an inside

BUTTERFLY

Yes it was always a butterfly
This what was expressing
The I saw the I changing
The point where I came into being was dead
The point here where I was born had no point

The butterfly has no story to tell,
So does the I
I am
I am in the womb at all moments
In every moment I break free
Free from feelings of all previous feelings

the butterfly was always there
it flew all day long
in the sun it played with heart
here there everywhere
flower to flower

I sneezed,
So where is the third and the fourth?

MAKE ME THE SUNS

Make me a Sun
Make me a Moon
Make me a Cloud
Make me an Exaltation
Make me a Desert
Make me a Prayer
Make me a Lover
Make me an Intoxication
Make me a Tear
Make me a Night
Make me a Song
Make me a Poetry
Make me Lips
Make me that Kiss

That Kiss your Lips
That love is my Poetry
That would be my Song
The magic of a Night
Which would burn a Tear
And turn in to an Intoxication
Of a Lover
Whose Prayer
Would flower a Desert
In that Exaltation
I would ride a Cloud
And make the Moons
And make me the Suns.

existence INTO existence

existence INTO existence
I into I
In fire
With all the knowledge

It takes place
From inside to inside

Strip
Strip till there is nothing at all

Look around your pocket
If some change is left

No signs
No symbols
Only listening with all intimacy

A fire
this
existence into existence

In A Dream - II

The lake was deep
I had to walk it
She was on the other side
The silence of my heart

She saw my anguish
She saw my yearning
She metamorphosed herself
In a mist

Then she sang
Standing in the center of the lake
She was the soul
And I the lover
I was in a dream
And SHE
OUTSIDE THE DREAM.

She laughed
As I dived in to the lake
Warm waters
Breaking my chains.

She asked
Would you wake up'
Am I not awake'
I asked her
And she laughed
For that you will have to die' she whispered

But I want to live and love'.

Yes my lover, wake up then;
I love myself, Do you' she sang

This lover of your is no man of humility,
Yes I love me' I replied.

Then Come
Come' she sang.

In A Dream

She was crazy
Yes she was drunk
She said she could only see me
She danced in ecstasy

I was in a dream
Since the day I opened my eyes

Today that energy woke me up
Yes she was fire
Still as a cloud
In my heart she whirled

Yes
She was crazy
She was drunk
She said she could only see me
She danced in ecstasy

The Flower Of Love

I knew you would come
I knew I was once told
I asked many a times
When I would flower
What would happen

Smell my fragrance
Look at my colors
All for you
It was raining last night
Come feel my freshness
As if I was never born

I open all my lips for you
Consume me of my existence
Oh existence
Your eyes cannot help me
Your words cannot touch me
Love me and take me

I now know why
Was I called
The flower of love

Inside me there is an outside me, Vulnerable and wild.

Inside me there is an outside me
It explains what I am
I hear it not
What goes in a circle is my head

A voice in the center
Is the by product of
What bought me here
Outside of it
Is what there are no limits
Yes it is dark
It is the veil
Where I can go
All out
I don’t hold anything back
I am wild
I can go anywhere
I want you to know
I am vulnerable too

Let the truth reveal
Let the inside burn
Let that what bought me here be what it is
I need no gifts
I need no sermons

Inside me there is an outside me
Vulnerable and wild.

Where Do You Fly

Where do you fly
Where do you think
You will find existence
Do not tell me about reality
Reality happens through reality

Where do you fly
Where do you think
You will find consciousness
I am is not a concept
It’s a ....
A mirror in a position
Tasting existence

Where do you fly
Where do you think
You will find an understanding
The fear is in the height or depth of a flight
Never in the flight

Where do you fly
Where do you think
You will find an awareness
I never watched a flower push away
It's fragrance

It is a defining moment
Where you sense vulnerability
Very subtly in awareness
Everything is watched.

A KISS FOREVER

The eyes opened
As always from darkness
to light
Words come and go
About some relations, about some imaginations
I have no idea
I have no intent

This is drunken'ness'
Never a sober bird
This heart that sings the song of a quiet
I listen to this laughter
A laughter of no limits
Just like a life
That is never over.

The eyes never prepare for
any moment to come.
The separation is an idea.
What can ever be sad, the birth or the death?

There was a story once told to me,
There was a wise man,
A righteous man,
Who was once told by his master,
Your last thought determines
Your next life.
He spent the rest of his life
Controlling his thoughts
As to be in control of his thoughts when
He took his last breath.
When the time came,
All his sadhana deserted him,
And he only thought
He died sad.

The wise man died thinking sad,
The wise man lived contemplating.

What can ever be sad, the birth or the death?
This one is no movement
It has been still forever now
A kiss that has now been
forever now.

A bell rings in
A sound vibrates
A physical happening in the body
Primary elements in six
Awaken to rise
A light in the sky

It is a juggle,
Simple and paradoxically complex,
A myth flies,
I can measure that too,
I open my palms,
What do I see?
Lines of aspiration,
Juggling as the light comes and goes.

Are you ready
Not yet
Are you afraid
Not yet
Is it a forever
Not yet
Are you sleeping
Not yet
Has it been a while
Not yet
What hurts more
Not yet

have I evolved or
has memory

what took place in time
The I or the memory

I slowed down
and could count my yesterdays

I hastened to be something
and could see the changes in my tomorrows

It was the whispers
They never knew what was right for them
They were sighs of smoke and now
Who would they speak to
About their pain
About their separation
These whispers of passion
These whispers of fire
Who would they speak to

They asked
the birds
the trees
They roamed the jungles
These whispers of passion
These whispers of fire
Who would they speak to

Who would they speak to
About their pain
About their separation
In this bazaar
In this winter where
Empty hearts were
Selling love for some cheap wines

They were told
They would have to die
They were told
They would never find their soul
But they knew
the love
the pain
They bought love
And set themselves up
To find their passion
Their Fire

In a quiet moment
I asked the honesty in me
Can you hear me
Strange it told me
Called me dumb
And said - tell me
What has changed
You loved to kill in the cave
You would love to kill now
You think you make sense
I like you still
In this stillness that
You asked
That would take guts
In this pauper land

Atonement.

The waves thought about it. They were alive. They dreamt of a shore. I was one behind her. She used to raise her head high in the sun. I saw her and my eyes knew the goal. She was the grandest of all waves. A bride-to-be ,who dreamt her atonement, her shore.
Her song was not seen only known. A vision of moment, in the now. The shore was near a wave shouted somewhere in front of us. She was a miracle I tell you. I had seen it. She just went ahead in to the shore. The light had faded. Then, then she was dead.

The moment knew
It did not matter
About the past that it was born from
Born from a
A face of me in a circle
A paradox shinning in the sun
A sand time machine
The moment
This moment
A fragment of my song
Burning to give birth
To moments
That would move me mountains.

"Nothing to "ME" happens in isolation."

"Never die in parts. Same goes for living. The question is what stops you either ways?"

“ Move, move, so what if you leave something behind.”

A plot and a setting
A narrator and his inner voice
A virgin's kiss
And then I have a thought
Where the I and my inner voice are locked
It is easy to talk now
And easy to close my eyes
Free from numbers
I think I should rewrite.

The mirror says it all
About a vision intoxicated

The doors of my heart open now
And yet
The earth searches it's sky

Why can't I walk
Walk on broken dreams
If walking is that only required of me

Living lights in the living room
Waiting for death to play some music
Feelings felt
But the head is missing
And yet I search for it's presence
The words are there
Their meanings lost
In some cotton fluff

and she asked
you've walked down the road

and she asked
you've known all that you've been told

and she asked
you've searched your self

and she asked
why have you searched

and she asked
you've been looking at the other one

and she asked
what have you've been left with

and she asked
you or the other one

and she asked
now that you've walked down the road
can you be the other one

Nothing much there, no, nothing at all,
Just my body and all there there,
Feel it my drinking
Feel it my dancing

Who walks there
A devil or some white light
Some secret of a night
In which a baby cried

A mirror sings to the man
Look, look at me
I missed you so much
I smiled when you looked down
I knew always what was wrong
You looked at some one's idea
in me
and never you your own just as you
Say, stand there and look in to me
I saw and want you to see you
No wisdom, not even alone,
I can shatter if you see your beauty,
Ha! yes shatter, to a new million you.

Few steps at a time
To be with you and
Then may be
Just a dream about some
Songs of shadows & whispers

Was I there when I heard
You take that one step
Could I hold myself
Could I take those few steps then
To cover these last
thousand miles.

New York

A grid with a central park
Cris cross that seems to be
some kinda biggest shopping mall
Stories of minds that touched the
skyline of Hudson High

Faces walking fast
Eyes lost in Broadway colors
People on invisible mode
Waiting for the white hand or
the yellow cab with advertisements
of a flash dance

Monsters beneath my foot
Calling uptown and
Racing downtown
Connecting a mall that
is the biggest on my planet
offering everything from
everywhere in planet

A celebrity house of wax
With museums of sorts
A homeless chappie under the
statue of Liberty

Some coffee tables and some neon light
All on the street
or a Stage
Where time never stops
called the Time Square.

Understanding the crossroads
closing on in dunes
In the heat of my windows
What caused my will to soar
like an eagle

Pillows warm and yellow
A city of gold
A distance beyond
the crossroads
closing on in dunes
A sleepy corner and some new talk of
A love that soars
in the heat of my windows

She says I met you
Always on crossroads
That she was alive and I waiting
With a torn heart
With a possible " I Love You" in my windows
A lock of you hair is
What caused my will to soar
like an eagle

A need to
Free myself from a ground
An Ordinary self
Without rest
Fundamentally in a process
Thinking trapped in a
Space called consciousness
In the field of time.

Striving to reach
Where I'm already am
Perfecting a creation
That was already unique
With nothing called exterior
Or an interior.

The road has no
protection of any kind
always under attack
in the heat of the summer
high.

Tiredness is what
it can never know
and look
how I uncoil
across a distant land.

Darkness to my eyes
was not the absence of light
It was due to my mind
that I couldn't see
the light.

An artificial bridge
an artificial image
is what the mind
would never want to see.

It wanted a corridor
to bridge the the darkness
to the light
with the help
of my eyes.

A thousand miles
And very few smiles
The challenge
Was only for
The pure in heart.

Mistakes are impossible
When the sun shines
And yet
And yet I believe you
With my whole life.

A morning
A day
When the eyes don't wake up in fear
Such was a morning
Such was a day
For
Which I walked a
A thousand miles
With a few smiles.

the eyes opened to a new light
smile flashed through some rain
the heart could go now
and swim in the oceans
it was an exhibition of sorts
and joy was my
cast.

Reflections.

Images from mind,
Reflections from memory,
When time flows faster and
slower, as it wants,
I look for will there,
I find none there but
only reflections
in some pool.

I could keep looking,
go up and down,
keep sailing the thoughts,
yes thoughts,
these images,
these reflections,
these thoughts looking at thoughts.

A Step Forward.

A space on my wall,
A picture missing now,
I dare not look at
the space myself.

A small book
in the cupboard,
being tricked to shut
itself for ever.

My life is my whole
life,
It is whole and
requires no further clarity,
It's never a step back,
But a step forward,
So what if
the space on the wall
looks unbelievable and
the book,
ah!
the book has some more
work to do.

A stone flung,
Deep in to a pond,
Bounced four times,
Till it sunk,
Through some magic,
It was found again,
By a Shepherd,
Who knew to swim in
Dark and deep.

The doors were open
then to stone,
the doors to dream,
It could no longer sleep and
knew nothing of dark,
It was free to be free
or to bind,
As magic around it
was the silver light
inside and outside of
it's heart.

A Circle With Four Points.

I see a circle and
I mark four points,
I go from birth
to death,
call it east and west,
north and south,
I remain in the circle,
moving and guarding these
four points.

From one
point,
I draw a tangent,
See that going to
an infinity,
I think that This
is GOD,
I call upon it and
ask it
to witness the
points
and guard the
movements between the
points.

The Blue Print.

Mind like water
cannot be compressed,
now or before,
It can flow
and expand,
fit and form
now or before.

If I see my blue print,
now or before,
I see yours and that
tree's same,
now or before,
I see a seed,
and the movement to a tree,
back to the seed,
now or before.

If I go with the nature
of my mind,
I free flow,
like water on a mountain high,
flowing, breaking, then collecting
and then evaporating,
just like my blue print
now or before.

Integration.

I was made to observe,
how to fit my mind,
to what I was made to want.

If I did integrate,
what would it be for me,
for it would always be your want,
me calling it my love
of my heart.

I would still be sad,
And question the integration itself,
Entering what you would call,
the dark night of soul.

Hey!
are you telling me
if I don't fit in,
I'm non-existent.

Dimensions.

Moving in dimensions,
I see myself defining,
I also see a self,
And in that I realize a self
Participating in a continuum.

You tell me
that this is a mango tree,
If I move a dimension,
I don't know what I see,
Hence to remain with
what you say,
I stay in a
continuum and I too
like you then can
call that what you name as a mango tree.

If the shift happens,
I would have to define it
and name it,
that is I would want it to measure it,
something funny happens here,
the very second I touch this,
the dimension changes.

The experiments of mind,
known to mind alone,
may be or
may be not,
something does exist,
as we know not.

Always Been.

When I change,
I stay same,
Why do I then think of
not changing,
If I always want to be same.

When I look at WILL,
I look at a mind,
That which is WHAT a mirror shows me,
My body.

I feel young and
I change,
To remain same,
That is young,
I call it a miracle
this -- "always been changing."

SILENCE.

Silence feels a
lot like talking,
It can go on for
days and seem like love.

Love recognizes anxieties,
Also a flute song,
Some blooming beliefs,
A few things about myself,
May be few about my silences,
That silence runs
through my happy face.

You get in to it,
you can't get out of it,
AS if you have been robbed,
You search still for
A candle light in a dark room,
Wishing you hadn't been touched by
silence atall.

SHADOWS.

I'm false when I talk
of sin,
I falsify myself
when I look
down upon myself,
I'm a tree,
and I will not bear any fruits
of lie,
however hard may I try.

If I'm a man,
I cannot call myself ignorant,
If yet I ignore,
then only do I
chase dichotomy,
Desires through dichotomy is
what man teaches,
is what man learns,
I spit it
and walk away,
to the truth that is in me
and in you.

The Mind Bulb.

One good walk,
and you know you would give it
all up.

A present is a lucky charm,
it makes you talk about
a promise so sweet
you want to keep,
like a rocking chair,
agitating and yet relaxing.

Some story books besides my bed,
assassinating sleeps,
giving me names,
of animals and minds,
breads and love, sometimes they
ask me my name, I smile, so they call me an adventure,
these good cousins of mine.

Wheel Within A Wheel.

I wanted to be everywhere in the world,
And see becoming first hand,
Divisions do not impress me much,
I know about richness as in
material and spiritual being same,
Ruthlessly, selfishly, I know
I was taught to chase,
How could any school be other than
mine.

I see a wheel
and I know there is no way out,
I don't want to be anywhere now,
what for,
If I see one I see all,
It could only be a
wheel within a wheel.

Is it me then YOU?

The product born out of repetition,
A physical ME,
Lost in a psychological you,
Enjoying the demands,
Justified by conditioning
of what exists.

Somebody told me that
And that tells somebody that
We suffer,
Feelings of culture,
An external vulture,
At a pinnacle of maturity,
In
A raging war inside,
Fought on intellectual level,
Seriously looking,
Searching,
asking questions of hunger.

Divisions solving problems,
Science looking hep,
And scientist politicians,
Wait, Wait, Wait,
Can I do something,
May be a war,
Or some thinking,
Essentially solving
problems of divisions
through man's seeking.

Is it me then YOU?

The Story Of My Birth.

I know I shouldn't have

left her when she were sleeping,

It was a summer night and the cool

breeze made her look like an angel

from a happy shore.

I touched her eyes,

she moved and I stood still,

everything in me came to a complete stop,

I then knew I was right,

I had to leave,

I loved her,

and that night was the only time I could

draw courage.

It was rare and we found it through each other,

(a magical moment remains magical

only for that moment)

sensitivity of a love so true,

my love then being

more important than lovers of that night.

I promised her

I would come back as this was no mystery,

for I had died in her  tonight

and yet I knew and could touch the music in my heart,

knowing that

the true heart would reach her,

in all her heavens and shores.

A Gun On My Head.

Talk me about peace,
about your way of being,
Tell me how free I am to act,
What to eat and what not to eat,
What to say and what not to say,
I am not in conflict with your way of being,
But
I feel a gun on my head,
Is it yours?

And you offered me that
I can make love and
choose not to go to war,
yet I pay taxes for
not being able to experience the
reality as it is,
I can live absolutely mechanical,
I even salute the flag and wear it on my sleeves,
But
I have a gun on my head,
Is it yours?

Breathless.

May be some questions,
May be a man,
Or a free woman,
In a door locked,
Who once played
And shared.

You are here now,
With something of back then.
Yes, unfortunately
It came along,
The feelings For you
Keep in touch with you,
They talk and they run,
I ran,
I ran till I was out of
all of my breath.......
and then,
still, may be some questions....

How about a want,
A want,a dream,
A dream to indulge,
A want so deep,
That I can't dream straight,...
To fly out,
Till you feel
BREATHLESS.

Fear.

Crazy orphans walking
in my mind,
These bastards
came in and called themselves
inspired intuition,
I was uneasy all along,
yet I played with them and
fed them,
Only to find myself choked by them
or was it fear.

Standing on my head
I unlocked a door,
and I willed
to question the assumptions
of calling them mine,
then
I let them go,
Out went these bastards:

time
timelessness
mortality
immortality
permanence
cathedral
churches
temples
incarnations
and reincarnations
darkness
and lightness.

The Joy Of Romance.

Look around
so much there is
to live for
A pebble waiting for you
The tides thanking you
A cloud floating freely for you
Dreams are endless
So is your path
And with two words in your heart
Keep walking, stay in there
with the cold ocean breeze,
may be a silent prayer will
cross your lips,
a tear may lighten you up,
and day after day
you would live more
to look around
to hear
more of your laughter,
you would call it your joy of
ROMANCE.

Oh God!

I see an object,
and now
any object could knock me over,
so what does this object do to me?
It makes me want to write,
write?
hey, sometimes I am driving, or I am peeing
or I am eating with my hands messy,
I just can't start writing, can I?
and now I am in anguish, I may loose it,
what do I do?
I know I will not remember later,
I tried that, it does not happen.
God save me from me
when I want to write.

CLAIRVOYANCE

It is only I
who carries the image of I;
The insights of I
are the I;
The intution of I
all made up by the I;
It does not matter who
reveals to whom,
What matters is
how much the I boils.

The I has twenty names
connected to everything around,
to brightness and to glory,
to health and sturdiness of body,
Being and In knowledge,
Worshiping and praising all life.

Come home to the night;
The secret is in reaching the night.
It is the journey
from home to
a dream,
a dream is the
point from where
invisible crosses
over to the visible.

The Flight

I who matter
what would attract me
if I were asked
what is becoming
wider
deeper
stronger or
find a love
that I would do some years
of my living life

Starting out
with seeing my living life
deeply observing the body
responding to stimuli
and how it escapes to get lost
never to question any business
fed up or disconnected
then being caught in such and such
stimuli

It is myself asking questions
of my own self
from that to self
then in to self
then about self
then about feeling self
then being out of self
to come back to self
and then
absorbing the self
not seeing
not perceiving
and
never ever to look for self.

a Gem

Hey I found a gem
no ordinary gem this
but a magical friend.

A friend and my
own being
looking through my past
and the magical future.

A crane walking
in the water so still
my friend smiling
in thunderous storm and hail.

A gem
this friend
a light and the path
all rolled in to one
the strength and
the enlightenment.

Go Home Now.

A hallucination
a trip
with an imaginary camera
looking out of a window
I see the sea at my side
a calm sea
a quiet sea
I jump in and I feel safe
yet afraid because
thinking about my strenght and the distance.

You watch me as
you watch a movie
of man who wants to cross
you have heared stories
you call out to me
and ask me
have you seen the beach before
or have you had visions of the beach.

To become a king
is by being erotic
not by massacre
although I was put in
a concentration camp when I was six
they said I would be cool
when I would be out of school.

I am a child
a man
and an old woman
in a camp which seems natural now
shouting for joy
as in searching for joy
at some point
enters a soldier
who tells us he is happy
to kill a stranger
to find me my joy.

I walk around the camp
I walk out
walk all night
tired
I hallucinate
a trip
with an imaginary camera
looking out of a window
I see the sea at my side
a calm sea
a quiet sea
I jump in and I feel safe
yet afraid because
thinking about my strength and the distance.

Visualization

I: Where do I stand?

She: Your heart is in past, and your vision is in future, between the company of these two thoughts YOU stand alone.
You have always stood alone. The love if that is what you want, without even knowing what it is in the first place is what you will get, but only when you find me completely, you may be brave but is that enough.

I: have you ever stopped yourself, I mean you want to express a feeling but you stop...

She: When I was in school I was taught of existence and then I was told about existence of dream, since then I learnt how to dream, dream an existence, I have never stopped since. The reality of all my dreams was that even in dreams one stands alone.

I: So can I be free from this question - where do I stand?

She: freedom?

I: yes, what is freedom or can you define it?

She: freedom is a relative term, freedom from this or that, a relative term cannot bring about any change. An atmosphere of freedom cannot be created through relativity.

I: awareness too then is relative, so even that can't bring about a change?

She: you are aware of the question - where do I stand, you want to be free from it, it is relative to a certain circumstance, and this awareness is not helping you, me being aware of your predicament cannot help you too.

I: so you are free from the thought that you can help me....

She: not only you, but also myself, I know I cannot help myself, I stand alone here too.

I: can I separate myself and look at it?

She: observer? you want to know about the observer? In school I was told about existence, I was made the observer, and then I was made the observer of my dream of existence, since then I was the observer and I had no way of validating that.
I stand alone here too.

The Taxi

"Every one chooses the back" the driver of the rented car says to me, I shrug and then ask him why or what made him say that.

"I know I could have sat in front with you, but I have some reading to do" I say
"That's all we want to do, and no its not only with you, all we want to do all our life is sit back and look back and read, read our self again and again" and the driver looks straight ahead and while driving me talks more about why he has been driving all his life.

We reach the cemetery after some time.

Silence

I want silence,
I keep searching for it
Travel and
meditate
talk to people
and meet people.

I do find silence
and it is gone,
so I start looking for it again
the same way
how everybody else
looked for it.

I felt choked
and I knew it was silence
it wasn't supposed to be like this,
I wasn't suppose to find it like this,
it was worse
because now it couldn't be broken
the silence couldn't be broken.

That moment could be a moment
or a day
or a month
or a century.

I wasn't born with love.

I stopped and thought about the years after I buried myself. I was looking over a wall aware of a universe beyond that wall, a life and I knew that I would be never a part of it.

"I know I only loved you"
"I know" she smiled back, "it always touched me"
"and now" I held myself back "and now can you feel it"
"Even here I can feel it touch me, no matter the years between you and me, a flower that never fades, just stays afresh"

"Sit down if you have a moment" she held my hand
Sitting on air with her I saw her long skirt float and the breeze brought it's perfume to me.

"I wasn't born with anger"
"I know" she nodded " and I wasn't born with love"
"what was the could have been life, have you thought of it" she looked straight at me this time, undressing me of my thoughts.

I stopped and thought about the years after I buried myself. I was looking over a wall aware of a universe beyond that wall, a life and I knew that I would be never a part of it.

Healing

What is that I want to write for me
What is that my ears want to hear from me
What is that I want to talk to me

When I write for me
I heal

When I listen to me
I heal

When I talk to me
I heal

The Finite.

My identity is
finite and limited
and so is the space
around this identity
finite
and limited.

What I write is
what others have wrote
what others wrote
was finite and limited
if it is truly the way of reason
then way of reason too is finite
and limited.

Look at me in matter
I am finite
look at me as my name
that too is finite.

The purity in
my water is finite
and so in my food
and till I live
the length of my life
is finite and limited.

Absolute for me
is finite
and so is my content
I don't know about heaven
but I think now that too is
finite and limited.

The point of contact between
existence
and the identity
of existence
is the mind.

The dreams
when eyes are closed
in the night
and the dreams when
eyes are open in the day
are connected through this point.

When the self is not
read in the day
the dreams are absent
in the night.

The Matter.

The darkness
is from where light is born
the dark is the carrier of light.

The true and simple light
is like water

Water is unstable
and so is that light.

and how.......

When existence comes in to order
identification comes in to being

identification allows
harmony and rest.

The sea becomes sea
from the waters of rivers

and the rivers becomes rivers
from the waters of the springs

the spring comes into being when existence
comes in to order.

Application.

There is a path
in what is called
the history of man
an only path

that I am
and I am
in accordance with I am
and there in lies rest
if I am not
in accordance with
I am
then I come to an end.

The more I am into being
I am
the more I know of I am
which can never
come to an end.

With the new born in her arms
the mother opened her eyes
and led it to her flowing breasts
as she did
she closed her eyes...
to the world besides.

Transcendence.

What ever I want in tomorrow
silence progress or love
what I did yesterday
would always decide
what I get tomorrow.

The philospher can talk
the thinker can think
the doctor can analyse
but none can touch the link
of tomorrow that came in
from yesterday.

Intoxicated I roam
only to hear me sing
my song
from where did I come and why
and where do I go and why.

Tell me
my teacher
if everything was already there
and if I was just waiting
for it to happen
and that it was already
in what is called my destiny
your destiny
why then we
punished the guilty
tell me my teacher
where and how did I become the doer
wasn't the writer
guilty
to have not written fair and
just.

Talk to me
my teacher
or listen to me now
what I see
when I look down
is it not my shadow
don't I learn
how it gets long and short
dark and light
talk to me
my teacher and
then when I look up
don't I see the sun
the cause
and
that isn't it experience
helping me to get whatever shape I want
when I want of my shadow.

The sun
the me
and then the shadow
but the most eminent of all
my learning
of this all
no one writes what I learn
what you learn my teacher
is for you and by only you.

The I and the Identity.

I ---
known to man or not
came in with time
there and then
the self was born
the first identity of I.

The traveller
the I called him self
as he set his sails
on the hinges of space
he counted
one, two and three,................

He identified
the light, the dark and
the evening night
and grew worldly wise.

He saw a pit and called his grave
he made it up
with malice, lust, greed and pride,
he then identified a way out of pit
and called it his journey
of soul.

Alone and full of fear
he looked at himself
with nothing to wear
naked he was now to his fears
when he saw his lover die.

He called death a disease
and knew he was the one who suffered
from that disease
not the one who died
for his lover looked calm
when she closed her eyes.

He saw his self
drunk and dizzy
creating new realities
out of existing made up
realities
he cursed the I with guilt
and threw it in a pit.

The I----
known to man or not
was beaten to death
by the identity of I
in time.

The Boy

I tossed and turned all night
I wasn't like this all the time
I was a boy sometime
I look at him as he now
I saw his eyes tonight and
saw him still chasing fireflies.

I remember he had a bed
by a wall
a cool wall even in summers
at any given time
he would want some reassurance or some coolness
he would melt in to that wall
and sleep
It was green in colour.

The wall promised him fun
and next morning he would get up
after dreaming his dreams
in the evenings by the wall
he
laughed and played around
he saw a lot of fireflies
across the wall
who would appear
and disappear
with a blink
or they would turn to different colorful flowers
just like that.

I have a wish
a wish that I could hug him
just one last time
or probably answer a question
that
why the hell
I did not hug his soul
the last time I saw him
Did I think at that time
that he would never vanish
did I.

Is he dead?

The bed is now ashes
and the wall may be some
rubble and mud

No I think not
that he is dead

the boy
he should be in his jungle
still chasing fireflies.

No I think not
that he is dead

NO

I wasn't a man
always
I was a boy
by the wall
dreaming my dreams
by the green wall.

The Game.

The elements of the sun
playing together
with the sun
yes I am your water
and your wind.

Look at me as I tell the sun
in your room
which more looks like a
coffin
there is life
for I have found a balance
and harmony
in your fury might.

It is your game
and I agree
and yet I make most of it
for I know
till you shine
I will always
come and go.

The Door

The door always remain the same
I have to exit
from where I enter.

Even if I came as such and such
or I leave as that or this
the door always
remains the same.

The seed does not know
when it grows and
even when it's cycle is complete
hopes it could leave
through some other door
to some other
universe
would someone tell it that
the door always remains the same.

Let me then make most
once that I have entered
let me then dance
and draw life;
once that I am IN
let me now make most of it
for there is no other
door
for me to wait and hope.

The door of the seed always remains the same
it has to exit
from where it enters.

The Song Of The Pollens

I am your delight
I am this flower that
you passed by every morning evening
and night

I let you feed on my bounty
to see you grow
I am the flower
of all that you eat
from my trees and
my plants
they too came in to being because
of me
Yes I am the flower
you passed by every morning evening
and night

Look at me once in a while
for I am the pollens
and I dance and I
sing in the winds
seduced by the bees
I help creation create
which too came in to being because
of me
Yes I am the pollens in these flowers
you passed by every morning evening
and night

Listen

listen
listen to me
if you won't then who will

who shall I talk to of
my journey
my pain
of me and
that how
it comes from me
and that how
it dissolves in me

stay
stay with me
I only have me

love that I feel now for
me
is the highest
stay
don't walk
walk away from me

listen
listen to me
if you won't then who will

TRADE

The universe has only come into being because of trade,
between the elements
or between you and me.

The trade when fair & square progress is a certainity.
Hence my universe or yours or any one else's has progressed because of trade .

At macro scale or micro scale the trade happens. ThAT IS THE only way the whole universe comes in to being.
An absolute.

PASSION

Inevitable happens
and it
happens only my in mind

I look for passion
it looks for me
may be
may be only then
the inevitable happens

The eyes talked of freedom

and yet when the words formed
they spoke of bondage

"I want you to be happy"
said she

while her eyes spoke to
me of an adventure.

My gravity

When I dream
gravity touches me
bends me
makes me heavy;

why don't I know
anything otherwise.

My child

Waited an eternity
for day break
then
came morning
then waited
to still my heart
which kept crying
of loosing the morning.

Astray

I see no one go astray
I see all talk of
others go astray
I see fear
and build up of anguish
but never see anyone go
astray
they who see
people go astray
live in a society
I who see no one go astray
where do I stay in...............

A lesson

my thoughts drifted
hence
my thoughts never rested

the drifting cloud can
never find rest

untill it decides to give in

muddy water....

It's a movement
to a stillness

me a muddy water
becomes clear
when I
standstill in the
afternoon sun

Sensitivity is always
expressed in words
even when
the heat is playing mischief in
the desert and it's dunes
which never seem to end
my refuge are my
words
born in my brow

dust in my eye

The dust particle standing still
in the sunlight
is me

a universe around all dust
is me

how very close to you
I am
or
I am you
and that is me

why talk to me of god
why talk to me of faith
talk to me
about the dust
the dust in my eye

the dust in my eye
that is me

let me see.....

let me see
let me see my walk in
my journey
let me see me weave
a worship


let me see
let me see me trust
my pride
in my weave
and
my eyes
let me see
my walk
to my destination

YOU ARE BETTER OFF IF YOU BUY A LOTTERY A DAY.

THE LIGHTHOUSE

The word
then an another
the mind reads
one word at a time

The excitement of a word
the gestation for a word that comes from
a word

The deep breath
is the word in my sound
one at a time

Years pass by
the words
become the book
slowly filling
energy around

The book then turns
transforms
to become a lighthouse
a lighthouse we know
were never built in
safe places

An Absolute

Where did I come from
Where do I depart to
Or I could put my head on your laps and go to sleep

No more desire to possess
And a desire
To only own the freedom
Through freedom

Sustaining the identification
of an absolute
is an absolute by itself

What remains is the self
and not the stain of self

Where did I come from
Where do i depart to
Or I could put my head on your laps and go to sleep

Despair

I: I see this thing but am unable to identify what it is.

She: it's despair.

I: why do you think it is that?

She: because it is, and your question is absurd.

I: I see but if that is despair then...

She: what

I: the absurdity of despair and it's non contradictory way of being or a feeling, is feeling the right word

She:?

I: feeling is the right word, what if I ask you know, can one fall in love with despair?

She: yes, you can think that you love despair

I: what then the act creates hope of it being that is the feeling being with you till you die

She: now that is absurd

I: the absurdity is non contradictory

Thinking ABOUT love

I have always been thinking about love
and then it hit me, that I have always been thinking about
love
-what love is- I don't know
and that is sure as of now;
what love is in thoughts and how it has to
be thought I know that all.

The thought that I have it
The thought that it ran away from me
is all that I have.

But where's the love
I don't want to know ABOUT love
I want to know love.

When Eyes Closed

I walked in vast space
was it a dream
may be
the dream came in
when eyes closed

I was stationary
and I moved
was it a dream
may be
the dream came in
when eyes closed

I was one
and yet tied in entanglements
was it a dream
may be
the dream came in
when eyes closed

Working in a world
of suchness
was I
was it a dream
may be
the dream came in
when eyes closed

Everywhere I turned in that vast space
I met ME
as if there were only mirrors
was it a dream
may be
the dream came in
when eyes closed

I stop and shout then
stand still
come to a complete rest
and I feel myself move
I see me opening my eyes
and I ask
was it a dream
may be
the dream came in
when eyes closed

SUN

Sun on my face and hence
smile across my lips
is my mind
untouched
unparalleled
the throb in my chest

The girl in the storm

The girl in the storm
the girl with an angel face and
blue eyes

The girl in the storm
and standing still
as in a church and
in peace

The girl in the storm
watching the light house
the half light
in absolute darkness

The girl in the storm
laughing and lonely
waiting for
the fisherman
who would fly to
her from that
half light

The girl in the storm..........

the sound of me............

a voice
that is ME
that is
suffering
sorrow
pain
a stillness
a growth
a learning
then
not knowing
where from
where to


a vibration
that
is ME
just
a vibration