Sometimes sitting in togatherness
on a seashore
cows,sand, trees,and the wind describes to me
a state beyond meditation...
( if that exists ?? )
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A Buddha has nothing particularly to throw away.All substances of human struggles is volatile in a Buddha's mind.The garbage sack is a metaphor, in which we go on filling our accumulated fears,futilities and disillusionments.But,if eventually Buddha had a garbage sack,what could one find in it,If not,the emptiness that allows him to stay available to the river of life. "The Mind is that garbage sack,So Just throw it away.And be happy."That's what my wornout guide from Buddha's garbage says.
orgasmik's listenings
Here
Here; words don't exist in the normal sense.
Here; everything moves in stillness.
Here; the days are born not from the rising sun but from the perfume of the silent mind.
Here; dried leaves stirs in the storms.
Here; you cross the river of death daily.
( If you've liked this ,then, go read the rest of the poem somewhere in this blog )
Feel free to come. Enjoy and share these thoughts....but, do not take away without asking.
i respect the one who reads, so please respect these writings.
Copyright is about respect.
While ' Copy write ' is not.....especially when taken without asking!
Here; everything moves in stillness.
Here; the days are born not from the rising sun but from the perfume of the silent mind.
Here; dried leaves stirs in the storms.
Here; you cross the river of death daily.
( If you've liked this ,then, go read the rest of the poem somewhere in this blog )
Feel free to come. Enjoy and share these thoughts....but, do not take away without asking.
i respect the one who reads, so please respect these writings.
Copyright is about respect.
While ' Copy write ' is not.....especially when taken without asking!
About Me
- Craftsman of light
- i m not bothered anymore about any other quests other than discovering about myself through daily existence,which certainly includes trees,pebbles,clouds, mountains and you.
Blog Archive
-
▼
2007
(78)
-
▼
November
(44)
- To be here with the sacred
- BE YOUR OWN BUDDHA FOR THE DAY
- Shhhhhhhhh soooooohummmmmmmm
- Does that exist??
- becoming the sky
- untitled
- soul blisters
- FREEDOM --- II
- FREEDOM ----- III
- To get a rendez vous with God
- Sensual buddhahood
- FIRST REFUGE ( alone in the laybrinth of the cons...
- GAUTAMA - the BEGGER - Begging bowl or singing bow...
- STANDING NAKED -- I
- LISTENING TO THE DARKNESS
- a dropfell from my left eyethe woman in me was cry...
- When i disappeared with the Buddha
- a body poem -- a poem body
- Found it on the Virupaksha temple courtyard at Ham...
- Going to the mountains.
- Chamchaude.
- The old seagull in me never stops flying.Flight be...
- Shravanabelagola,monk ,mystic
- a linear poem becoming circular .
- my self-sustaining Mantra - river ; Yet not a sin...
- Leela -Akshara
- An imaginary land - scape. Pen sketched 2002 " a...
- The quest of the Anchorite
- A POINT OF VIEW
- To Richardo - the most original man i knew ( p...
- A contemplative moment
- An escape
- The Arrival
- Come seeking me, accross these shores of silence.
- Shiva as ardhanareshwar ( Anima /Animus)Did this ...
- let silence reside
- The Saône ; near Trevoux.
- Indulge -- and know thyself
- Came looking for you
- While dewdrops fall
- Caring
- while Periyar flows; i took my pencils and.......
- Another story of Jesus
- The inner child asks
-
▼
November
(44)
FAVORITE SITES
Followers
Labels
- A moment with God
- akshara;moonbuds;unity;principles
- alchemy;consciousness; flowering silences.
- almond tree quietness wild grass poem
- Anchorite
- autocracy
- beautiful mind
- beloved
- Bleeding silences;Teardrops;Earth; Skies
- blistering soul
- blossom
- boat
- Body; stars; pain
- Body; swollen sweet rivers
- breath going
- burnt thoughts
- calligraphy
- capillaries;oil lamps; temple bells;silence
- coquelicot poem
- coquelicots poem
- dance
- dark
- darkness; annihilate;voice; stone
- dervish
- Doorsteps; Infinity;Silence
- dreams
- drinking sunsets
- drops everything
- Dying in poetry
- Encounters;Stranger
- enlightenment
- even the Buddhahood
- everything drops
- existence; words; entity
- faces
- fallen leaf
- Fate;Faith;Reality
- fields ; silence;womanliness; die
- freedom
- Freedom;Ego; Edifices
- french kisses
- God
- Gods of stone;Beliefs
- gone
- great tree
- gypsy love.
- Half-awake; half-asleep
- happiness
- hungry silence on tormented skin.
- ink
- Insight
- Introspections;Watchfulness
- jasmines; loveliness
- joy
- keep
- Keys; poems; peace
- listening to silence
- love and prayer
- Love; Cinamon kisses; Tenderness
- Love; eternity.Ziska.
- love;surrender
- love.
- Masks; Men
- Me; the Soul; Dialogues
- meditation
- meditations
- memories
- mind rivers
- mist
- moan
- monk
- morning in the heart
- morning in the heart poem.
- mornings; murmurs
- mountains
- mouth
- Mumbai
- Mystic
- Mystic;Lullabies
- naked feet; lips on lips; togatherness
- nameless
- Namibia
- net heavenwards love
- new
- nishagandhi
- not religion
- now
- Omkara
- opening rose
- original face
- Pain;Celebrations;Whispers of life; Dancing rivers
- poem tree river
- Poems of touch
- poppy
- Power; Politics;Poverty
- prayer
- quietness
- rain
- red rainfall; warrior
- Reflections; ViolencePieces
- religiousness
- renouncing
- rhayne
- Rhayne poem
- river kaveri
- shadow
- shravanabelagola
- silent
- sky-song
- snow
- Society
- Solitude; Anguished nights; Formlessness
- Sorrow; Scriptures; Soul
- soul blowing words;mantra-river
- soul intoxicating
- soul suffering fingers
- spirit
- Sravanabelagola
- standing naked without initiations
- still heart
- stockmarkets of virtues
- stones; path; skin; moonlight
- subways
- survival; recipe;insomnia
- swollen full moon
- thought forest fire poem
- tibet
- Time ; tatoo; memory ; skin
- travelling
- trees
- truth
- Twilights;Shadows
- unhealed wounds
- universe
- Voices; Touches;Love
- Walk;inward poem;communion.
- warm moon mouth poem
- wet word poem
- wind
- Wisdom;
- woman
- word
- Xilences nameless love flowering poem
- zarathustra; fable-maker
My Blog List
To the "Nuit" ..begining!!
Had'nt it been for the beautiful poems of"Nuit" ...nothing of all this would have come to
day.
so my first flight is a tantric flight .
I dedicate it to "Nuit" this verbal temple !
A Horny NIRVANA
New mudra,
The surya mudra
The Arthashastra man murmurs into your ears
Entwine me with your " ida"
Entwine me with your
"pingala"
Wrap your legs around my cosmic
tree
Arc your legs ,let the Sushumna come
through
Pump it up from
the Mooladhara to the Sahasrara
Lay with me
on this bed
of thousand blossoming lotuses
Satori spills, jerk by jerk
into your chakras
For a moment you can believe
You are Shakti
And I Shiva
God is so horny
So is our Nirvana!!
In a moment tastes the infinity!
day.
so my first flight is a tantric flight .
I dedicate it to "Nuit" this verbal temple !
A Horny NIRVANA
This
New mudra,
The surya mudra
The Arthashastra man murmurs into your ears
Entwine me with your " ida"
Entwine me with your
"pingala"
Wrap your legs around my cosmic
tree
Arc your legs ,let the Sushumna come
through
Pump it up from
the Mooladhara to the Sahasrara
Lay with me
on this bed
of thousand blossoming lotuses
Satori spills, jerk by jerk
into your chakras
For a moment you can believe
You are Shakti
And I Shiva
God is so horny
So is our Nirvana!!
In a moment tastes the infinity!