A Vaishnava Song.

Millions and millions of years
Of seeing you my beloved
And yet
My eyes remain hungry,
Evolution too has come to a stop,
I cannot posses you my beloved
For my eyes remain hungry for you,
I cannot gain you for
I cannot grow in partiality my beloved
I have no explanation,
My eyes remain hungry for you,
I served many a banks,
Many a fields,
Many a life,
But in you I know I won't have
Any boundaries my beloved,
My eyes remain hungry for you.

In my own Desire.

I need externals
In these outings I will
Do what I exist for
To manifest the act and the acting
To fulfill my metaphysics
That always existed in me
Even in my complete field.
Seeking is intoxication
Realization of activity
Balances the law
The law grants the joy
That It would be a loss
If one frees oneself from
The range of joy
In bondage, in joy, in activity
To the law that governs my freedom.

The Violent Spirit.

The masquerade was melting 
It was April, the sun was
Moving at it's highest angle,
It was a water fall
Suspended and jagged 
In some kind of
Performance arts.

The gravity was thawing 
The snow, that stayed away
From all that was for some
Time now, eternal,
Silence was breaking up,
It would never touch it's 
Environment with serenity anymore,
It would be violent,
Explosive, as if some god
Would be stripping it's 
Masquerade and making
It a lover of such potentiality
That in it's violence
It would
Shape the life on this earth.

More and more
It would transcend, in
Delight it would be
Within and with-out, and would not evade
Bonds, freedom would be in itself
In it's activity
In it's violence
The life in the midst of this fearlessness
The seed would sprout
And take a new form.

To realize freedom through violence
Is the beauty of all souls.

Dharma.

The content of 'I'
In contemplation with 'I'
Standing as 'I'
Holding itself in it's individuality
In it's foundation it builds itself
To own itself completely 

It has to be my sleep
My sacredness
My gain and the knowledge of my loss
It has an eagerness
And it can never be annihilated 
Try hard as one may,
Only may be if possible
It can be through a dialect alone
Nothing more

I can destroy ignorance
Through the truth of I
The self lights it's own fire
And can rid of itself of all
Clinging, remaining
An end in itself
The purpose then remaining
Outside the realm of becoming

Life Extraordinary.

An open door
Almost
Like an encyclopedia
More or much but
Learning things through leaving
And not taking any subject personally

Minds can be read
The history class in school
Were 
Like my mother
Like my father
Felt like they all came in
After me
I know there won't be ever any
Takers for this
Till I get restored to my
Normal state

There are notes taken
Placed all over inside me
Nobody's home though 
But I have been living off 
The organizer who took
All the notes, all the music

Oh, god
I may have to leave
It would have been cool if I 
Would have been your mentor
And made you learn the possibility
Of endless possibilities,
Not like you who has had always
One question to ask: 'so
What's troubling you?'
And my answer to you would always be
You You You

Listening to my thoughts might
Help tune in the seeing
That I was distracted
By the existence of hope
Then came a man
Singing -
'If it wasn't for hope
Your life would have been
ExtraOrdinary, yes
Extraordinary!'

Mostly Distracted.

The finite, how did it talk of
Infinite,
The discovery of truth fixated
On a head and objects inside
That caused misunderstanding
To the I,
Seeking to remove contradictions
Calling it's spiritual journey
In the physical finite 
Which does not ever by itself
Be aware of a here too.
What is, is not is but an object
Trying to travel to some construct
Called a non existent infinite, something or a nothing
Being empty inside
Empty outside. 
Searching? then look for a why.
Mind has to make use of the mind,
For a while it remains in it's own
Reality, mostly distracted,
Still remaining in the expression
Of life.