Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Sailing rocks

Do we follow patterns (good or bad) or patterns follow us, is still a mystery. The decisions we make in our lives fulfil someone else's manifestation of their own dream and their actions fulfil ours. The roller coaster of fear, happiness, sadness, envy, excitement and all other emotions never stops within. At times we want it to just calm the fuck down, breathe, and just be; which is always followed up with something in contrast to it. Excitement, anger, depression, going crazy, falling in love, feeling hurt and so many other contrasts that there is no end. We naturally begin to defy the 'new'. It is important that the 'new' stays. Taking things for granted has different levels and the only ladder through which it goes up is our ego.

What if this reality is actually just a dream? An often asked question... what if the only reason we are alive is not yet to be understood? In meditation, surrendering ego is the first step. What happens after you lose your identity while still being awake? there is no body, there is no mind, there is no future or past. For that brief moment in time, you are nothing more than a rock in the middle of a desert and the rock is alive. In that silence, you realise that consciousness is not just limited to things that grow or that we consider to be alive. 

When a seed germinates, the only thing it has is potential. The body it acquires, the color, the texture, everything about it comes from the combination of the basic elements of life that our planet is made of. We can only be naive to think that what contributes to it being born isnt alive. Mona lisa isn't itself a person, it is an expression of someone else's creativity. We are an expression too. As we express our own emotions through different mediums like writing or art or dance, to a certain level it is for the audience; it is for the audience until we learn its language and are fluent in that particular language.

 This universe or multiverse whatever it is, expresses itself through colors which we could only see if we had eyes, the sounds, which we could only hear since we had ears, textures that we could touch, food we could taste knowledge that we could understand; everything makes us realise that we were born by it to it for it. We are a language being spoken, a poem being read, a river flowing, a candle burning, "it is all happening". You are the creation by the creation for the creation. Once we accept this, everything starts to make sense. 

Monday, January 25, 2016

Glowing

Glowing worms
Inside a ball
A ball made 
Of glass
With colors
Blue and green
Were there
To make it last

These worms 
Still lost
Inside the
Ball of glass
How did 
They get inside
What was 
Their past?

No one to help
And no one to guide
No future to seek
No past to hide

In this ball
Made of glass
These worms 
Growing fast

But whats 
The point?
 
Grow and then?

It finishes when?

What happens?
Who wins?
Always seeking wins.

The glowing worms
Trembling 
To the beats of
Time
To the nature 
Of slime
Being what they 
Can be
Seeing what they
Can see

Entering zen
One by one
 
Beginning to be
The ball of glass
Color after color
Blue after green
And after 
They have been
To their future
And past
The ball of glass
Becomes them
At last. 

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Becoming

Looking for
Little corners
For my secret
Madness

Things that would
Comfort it
-Would let it be
Things like coffee
Cigarettes
Alcohol
Movies
Pot
Travel
Poetry

Places where
I can't be seen
But still mean
Something
Becoming objects
Of the frame
Of a stranger's eye
Easily missed
And just being

Looking for
New people
For my secret madness
People that would
Comfort it
Would let me be
People like you
Me
Silent
Strange
Fun
Ordinary
Simple
People with whom
I can be
And mean something

Becoming children
Of our own self

In a way
Becoming significant
In front
Of our own
Eye

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Windows

Windows
Let in light
For the
Dead things
Craving bright
Ideas
To wake up
To a fresh day
To strive
And be alive
Through you
Through what
You take in
Breathe in
Eat
See
Imagine
Experience
Drink
Smoke
Be

The light
Is a medium
Like helium
For balloons
To rise
To great heights
Achieve
And descend
With glory
Another story
To be told
To the rest
Waiting
To be told
To be inspired
To be cold
To other
Dead things
That have no soul
But will be alive
Someday
Like your
Dream
Rusting
In your past
Give it bridges
To make it
To the now
Let it
Make you say
Wow
And smile.

Fountains

Water
Trickles down
From the fountain
Goes back up
Much like mountains
Healing every drop
That drops down
Only to fall again

Fall
In place
Fall in light
Fall in love
And make a sound
A vibe designed
To calm the sight
Of the third eye
Feeling lighter
Clearer
Feeling wonder
Throughout
Shout
At the beauty
Inspite the doubt
We have
About falling in love
Serve your thoughts
Serve your seed
Give it light
And then you feed it
With love
And soil
And water
That trickles down
From the fountain
Of hope.

Boxes


Store your
Happy moments in
Boxes made of
Colored sins
Sins of yellow
Sins of green
Till mortal's
Theory
Intervenes
Sins not of the
Dark and dull
That hamper
Chakras
Hearts and skull
Sins of
Michevious blue
Stuck with all
Children's true
Innocence
Made of
Nature's dust
Which is fine
Even if you
Do not trust
It's
Consequences.

Motion

Steady and slow
Neverending
Flow
Of time
Grows
Around my head

Outside my bubble
Inside my core
Two parallels
In
Oneness flow

Bridged by
Intuition
Feelings
Meanings
Reasons
Beliefs
Stored
Deep
In my
Subconcious seasons
Growing
Outwards
Growing inwards
Into each
Other's core

A network of
The inside you
Outside me
And within
Hold you breath
Hold your thought
Mould your soul
And begin

Bound by
Mystical math
Monitoring
Most mailable
Meanings
Mind
Moderates
Mindlessly

Steady and slow
With it
We flow
In it we grow
Carelessly