My love, you have got me on the tip of your fingers,
I'm hanging from your cobwebs.
Your giggle is a music to my ears as your legs pierce my skin tearing from bone to bone, limb to limb.
I'm just one of your devotees, yet I don't stop to wonder how many more are there.
I let you puppeteer as that was your wish.
I have not even one regret, I don't need to think twice before selling my soul to your gaze.
You control better than I do my own life.
I need not to think twice as I am a good devote, I beg for your feather light touch despite it burning like acid through my skin and scorching my flesh for the next meal.
I do not fret, it hurts and burns yet if it means I get to hold your gaze for a second longer, feel your touch for a moment.
I am in hell, yet it is my heaven that's what being a devotee to you means afterall.
I shall carry it with pride...
With the heaviest heart,
I start feeling so lonely;
it's almost dusk, I head back home...
staring at a church's dome:
under which God united us,
never to be apart!
Good Heavens,
I'm beginning to cry!
This April's rain imitates
my cold tears
running down my cheeks;
we aren't together as we should;
our foolishness took us
to the strangest places:
it wasn't a wrong turn, indeed!
Who's to blame, where's the guilt?
Shouldn't we admit it?
Our pictures hang on every wall,
flashing smiles, drawing doubts;
we swore faithfulness,
not wanting to ever fall!
Were we devotees or fakers?
Were we trustworthy,
or simply unworthy?
This April's raifall
imitates my cold tears,
no consolation is found
;in loneliness ;
I have more miles
to go, I'm feeling the chill
in these bones:
a half thought is not close
to a whole!
A self-convert Shaiva woman, slowly guided
By cosmic power of Brahman which resided
In the fabric of every being and everything.
She awakened very young, began searching.
She eventually reached the same conclusion
As old sages did in order to undo the illusion:
Nothing is truly separate, all are connected.
She realized she's always divinely protected.
Just after the beginning of her middle age,
She met a man born a Vaishnava: a sage.
They fell in love, then he said intuitively,
"I sense you should worship Shivaji."
She is glad knowing there is no disharmony.
She told him about her long spiritual journey.
She praised and thanked Vishnu and Shiva,
"We are the greatest devotees of Harihara."
My Aunt Ruby was a bingo fanatic.
Every Friday she'd get her hair done ~
a visit to the 'Strands To Go' salon.
She left feeling like a graceful queen.
Friday nights were sacred at the bingo hall.
She'd pull out her money from her purse
and buy as many bingo cards as possible
then head to her favourite table to wait.
She'd light a cigarette to calm the nerves
and say a little prayer hoping to win big.
Someone had to win the jackpot ~ why not her.
She prepared her dabber and braced herself.
The bingo caller was always right on time.
Her cards always ready and perfectly aligned.
She waited with bated breath for numbers called
loud and clear as they possibly could be.
And so it was that every week on Friday,
Aunt Ruby spent her time doing what she loved best:
smoking, dabbing, and chatting among other devotees
... even coming home odd times with some cash winnings.
AP: 1st place 2025
I seek deep truth at half past-twelve,
But find it hiding in the skokiaan again. (1)
IDA sighs again,'' know thy ale''. (3)
Phuza Face orders a second pail (2)
By dawn I've solved life's mystery grim
Its mostly froth with little brim.
So drink Majwalis,and think no more. (4)
The mind's a map,the heart
Explanation of a Pub Crawler's Philosophical terms and names
Skokiaan-an illicit home-brewed alcoholic drink made from yeast,sugar and water.Usually its consumption leads to loss of wallet,teeth,wife and kids.Devotees are especially not fond of water and general cleanliness.A nice smell
IDA- means I Drink All.This is said by someone who never buys you drink/alcohol.
Phuza Face- is a colloquial term for the physical effects of heavy or long term drinking resulting in which leads to swelling,puffiness,redness of the face,dark circles under the eyes.
Majwalis-He who is devotee of alcohol and alcoholism who drink himself to death and beyond.Usually a cheque collector. Has a phobia of not reporting for duty on Monday and Friday.
“a homogeneous mass of consciousness, God as the all there is, mind cannot name
being both immanent and transcendent, living light intimate in heart aflame”
Faceless as an abstract concept,
clairvoyant moment on the heart.
Formless as smog and smoke
you can feel Him all around you
though He isn't there....
Mind cannot shape an image
but it can converse with intimate delight.
Devotion and intercession
gatherings of adoration and worship
we draw Him in, through hymns and prayer.
Buddhist Monk * Priest
Rabbi, Imam, Pujari, Pandit !
all devotees of the One Almighty God.
Homogeneous by tapestry of life's reform,
an entity so priceless, one cannot disparage.
Have you seen women,
pushing life uphill
like Sisyphus—
without rest, without freedom?
They birth us,
they work even when their bodies ache.
They serve as if they are waiters
in a restaurant of endless demands.
They do not ask for joy,
they do not demand a pause.
Instead, they whisper prayers
for their family’s well-being—
faithful as devotees before a shrine.
And we—
children, husbands, in-laws—
what have we done?
Did we ever tell them:
“Rest today.
Live for yourself, if only for a moment.”
Even as their souls grow weary,
they keep giving.
So let us lighten their load—
a small help,
a little kindness,
so they may taste freedom,
even if only for a few minutes.
Charisma of a champion
Strength of a Mount Olympus deity
Superstar hero larger than life
A fanclub like no other
A base of faithful devotees
buying into the showman's dream
the illusion
the fantasy
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
If you asked me if i was devoted?
If I was loyal?
If I was a servant of his orders?
I would agree without hesitation.
In the fiery depths that i dwell in,
the torturous circus of corpses,
the deep dark underground that I was banished to,
He is the light, he is my light, my love, my angel.
If you asked me if I loved him?
If I worshipped him?
If I treasured him, like he was the last remaining scrap of my soul?
I would agree, without hesitation.
He is my will to live, my purpose, my grace and, equally, my insanity.
I fell for him, in sword and flame, I fell.
Cast out and forsaken from a palace I'd once called home,
I fell for him, in sword and flame, in sweet agony, I burned.
If you asked me if I would trade the world for him?
If I would sacrifice myself for him?
If I would burn, strike the match myself, If i knew it would save him?
I would agree without hesitation.
Angels are made and taught to worship their gods,
to be devotees to a deity,
to be servants to a savior,
I fell, my wings are burned, halo cracked and dim,
but teachings are hard to forget when they're engraved,
So I'm fated to eternally worship him...
It is the world of Shiva and Shaitan
It is the world of Krishna and Kant
Devi on Nandi holding Demon and Son
Devotees, Deities, Ash, Claps and Fun
Fragile girl carrying child in her arm's
Not mother but a sister’s virgin palms
To Die for him but not a bruise to touch
Just Bottom pinching nothing too much
Anguish in her arms to shut the door
Hammer or Paedo, they break the core
Unreal city under brown fog of cold dawn
Slogans, Sighs where savage zombie born
Cow with a nose grip lost her way
Is she mute or has nothing to say?
Another one eating her own skin
Is there Anyone left? kith or a kin
Her body is torn open with the blood
No milk, No Calf. Here screams flood.
My dear Lord Hari,
You are the supreme attainment for all living beings.
Each day devotees drink the nectar of chanting your holy name.
They pray to the acharyas
To understand your pastimes,
Which is like food for the stomach,
And honey to the ear.
Blessed are those who take shelter of your lotus feet,
Where even the lowest of creatures may find solace
In your causeless mercy.
All the denizens of the earth cheer and beat their kettle drums,
Surly has the goddess of fortune found us.
Haribol!
i am india you are india
but india cancelled
more devotees killed in hathras congregation than
soldiers in war
media demonstrate access to absconding guru
than police
fundamental rights thwarted
police judiciary bureaucracy failed india
i am india you are india
but india cancelled
no one demolished babri masjid
no one killed jasika lall,arushi.....abhya shakti
fundamental rights thwarted
police judiciary bureaucracy failed india
i am india you are india
but india cancelled
it is emergence of difference in votes casted,votes counted era
political parties reach parliament in booths captured,unfair election
fundamental rights thwarted
police judiciary bureaucracy failed india
i am india you are india
but india cancelled
Devotional devotees dazzlingly delight
At an amazing aurora’s star of abiding light;
You’re yawl-like year-round of Yahweh’s areole-sight,
Starlight of sunshine, starlight in splendid night,
Twinkling tirelessly ‘til the thickest tip of twilight;
Ardent acclamations in our hearts arise…alight,
Reuniting us in rejoicing with reverence in thy rite!
Threats of blood baths easily roil
Cult members whose sentiments boil
Devotees tribal
Shall get D.T.’s bible
Soiled with drizzles of snake oil
"I wish they would not call me that."
It's just an expression of endearment." I said,
but after her words fell into my meditation
I thought about it a lot.
Devotees are affronted,
when she is just named Mary.
I mean we were all virgins at one time.
being the very expression of God,
we also had mothers.
If you really want to adore Mary
then tell her she is a beautiful lady,
most virtuous and motherly.
Don't try to seduce her with flattery,
as if being called a virgin for all time
was some kind of highfaluting compliment!
Let her into you, make her comfortable,
let her be a woman.
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