She sees in bearded baba
a radiating white light
follows him with trust and peace
alone in the bed meets him
for mantra in the ear
only to discover
a rapist narcissist
reciting his ode to sex
in three-word phrases
Where is room for sublime
in Trump-Modi era
if we talk about
grief, trauma, social justice
liberation, health, job
happiness in a culture
of divide and rule through
rightward extremism?
comics of history
in lanes and bylanes
search lingams for new world
threat murals of mutiny
recreating new forms
unearthly light and space
in old tales sacred for
visions of heritage
I don’t share their tangerine
nor stream in their landscape
even if I’m consumed
in blankness of fire or flood
When the world is devoid of dharma, He begins from within us.
His Will arises to inspire us to do more of what is just.
When I am lost, His blessings guide me to do what I must.
When I say, "I am Shiva,"
I actually mean I'm eternally one with pranava.
I've always existed: we each have our atma.
I destroy bad karma to recreate my dharma.
When I say, "I am Vishnu,"
I actually mean we are one, as I am all of you.
We're all divine entities preserving what's true.
I preserve reality in the cosmic ocean we brew.
When I say, "I am Brahma,"
I actually mean we create based on every law,
We create things which may each have a flaw,
Only because we must learn lessons of karma.
When I say "I am an aspect of Brahman,"
I actually mean I am more than simply human.
So are you, you just need to realize you can
Transcend and see how cycles forever span.
When did I start believing in reincarnation?
When it was presented to me in fiction.
Truth is reality itself is stranger than fiction.
Atoms are only a made-concrete projection.
When did I come to reach this conclusion?
When I finally see we co-create the simulation.
All is light and sound, all of it is an illusion.
"Illu" as in illuminated, "sion," as in confusion.
We're all victims of our own subtle delusion
That we are less than God's ultimate fusion.
When we realize we are one, we'll reach union.
We'll see God is all of us if we just look within.
We exist eternally, always worthy of affection,
But at times we must earn through reflection.
So when did I start believing in reincarnation?
When I seen cycles of time through divination.
The One Who Waits
He promises he will always be waiting,
And as he lives lifetimes with her, he waits,
For he knows it is the future she creates.
She promises her love for him is neverending.
In every life they always found each other.
In all lives, they pursued knowledge and truth,
They're always imprinted with power to sooth.
They often intuit the past, present, and future.
But in some lives, she was trapped in shadows
Of her karma; of negativity of other people.
He also kept promise to protect her from evil.
He always waits for her to outgrow sorrows.
In this life, she recalls a promise of her own:
To never take her own life; to learn and grow.
For the one who waits, she'll soon fully show
How he is the love her soul's always known.
I
on the beach of every person that was and will be
i was but a single grain of sand…
nature and death the humblers of man…
external labels should be replaced with simply “i am.”
much like life this poem is free verse no iambs…
where every face seems to have an ulterior
in today’s world, at birth none are superior or inferior
the key rests in judging less of the exterior…
though many men choose evil,
so one must gage their interior…
they squander the gift and deserve society’s backlash
still some men are unrightfully
grouped in with society’s trash…
our judging eyes often deceive us like cash…
the universe which sees collective over (>) the Ego’s trap…
looking in nature’s processes will help one see that…
there is a “you” that exists off society’s map…
expand your mind and it may land in your lap…
Men never listen.
But my man's not a mere man:
My man is a god.
Let your tears flow like a sacred stream,
Let Shiva's locks absorb the tears of sorrow,
Let Him recreate for you a better tomorrow,
Let your soul shine as bright as a light beam.
Pliny, the elder, heard
About beavers
And their magical testicles
From a vagrant
Russian merchant.
On his bestiary
He also praised unicorns
And the naked
Gymnosophists
Of the far Orient;
The vagabond sages
Who only ate
Once a year
And beans at that!
(Like my mother used to say:
“Everywhere in the world
People eat beans.”)
One of these hierophants
Spoke for trees
And interpreted
Their seed spread
As omens.
(Some truth to that:
Seed pods harbinger
Drought and merry times.)
Yes, Pliny
Wrote what he heard
And wrote much of it
So much that my toponymic
Ancestral brethren,
In Hispania Tarraconensis,
Wanted it all that wisdom
For themselves.
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."
An aspect of God, a boy born Brahmin
Had ascended into his higher power,
It was then in a late hour during slumber,
He remembered how his karma was even.
He awakened in him an intuition, long ago,
Then he later met a woman, he felt a spark.
But he questioned how she's awake at dark.
She wandered wherever her ego would go.
He was the only one who could perceive her,
As everyone at times seems to ignore them,
As if she can appear, disappear on a whim.
He realized she's a ghost and projector.
He decided to slowly heal her lost soul,
As she constantly spiralled into memories,
As she projected on loop her stories.
He blessed her to find peace, pay her toll.
But over time they had together, he fell.
The God wanted to spend forever with her,
Patiently waits for her to move on further.
She healed; God rang their wedding bell.
Pond of utter stillness
Placid pool of calm
Tasteless touchless tranquility
Self-less senseless serenity
All attachments are left at the gate
All disturbances desires and egoisms
All thoughts delusions ignorance and dualities
All hatred envy greed and aversion
All suffering extinguished and blown out
All rebirth ended
Pure consciousness pure intuitive silence
Pure consciousness beyond all forms
Pure consciousness infinite ocean of no-self
Pure consciousness transcending cause and effect
Pure consciousness pure motionless water
Pure pond of utter stillness
Pure nirvana
Pure ocean of utter bliss
Oh Sweet Ganesha riding on an adorable mouse,
Please let me and my love who is my soon or later to-be spouse
Miraculously have jobs and money enough to buy a house.
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Definition | What is Hinduism in Poetry?
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