Meditator Poems

Avadhuta Gita Chapter 1, verse 39

“Even my natural self appears to me as non-distinct from the supreme Self; it appears to be one and like space. How can there be meditator and meditation?”


beginning at the end of our understanding
globe of love and light of God is all that is
without diminishing Himself, He creates all
felt in the manifest universe as a bliss fizz

have ye not seen the truth as yet oh hermit
know the seeker who seeks does not exist 
if we be still judging neither fault nor merit
our pristine presence is by bliss mists kissed

acknowledging form as also boundless space
we imprint our unique emotes in the vast void
as both this here now and the absolute totality
effervescence of our love is pure and unalloyed

Avadhuta Gita Chapter 1, Verse 26

“As the self is filled by the Self, so is all filled continuously by you. There is no meditator or meditation.
Why does your mind meditate shamelessly?”


to behold its own reflection 
living light takes on myriad forms
each module though one with the whole
hypnotised by the ego, is lost in life’s storms

if we be but still in the void of polarity interchange 
occurring between exhalation and inhalation
when intent arises but before its action
these are moments of meditation 

ego is but an identity our soul dons
to assist it to safely navigate earth life 
as such in truth there is no one here within
our true Self is living light, in peace and bliss rife

the ego as doer or meditator simply does not exist
we are the light that lights all lights in this world
in time stretched silence ego disappears 
heart centric, flag of love is unfurled

Manzanita

("Lone Pine", 2024, original pen and ink with encaustic mat)

Manzanita

Manzanita
atop a slight rise
forms a natural shrine
The place a person
could place an offering
or say a prayer
The place a meditator
would sit
and become a buddha

(9/30/91)

Becoming No-Thing

Meditator meditating in thought rested stillness
Identity yet is and with it carries beliefs and concepts
So sounds, images, light or subtle vibrations may manifest
In the background there is our soft breathing and bliss humming
Identity is yet the subject and myriad sensations the objects
Then everything simply drops away and there is no-thing
What is, is awareness self-aware, self-luminiscent
Innate aliveness of Self without any attribute

Being self-aware, awareness as such is complete
There is no going or coming or doing to be done

Choicelessly choosing to reactivate mind-body
Pristine awareness self-aware pervades form
Present simultaneously both here and 'there'
Fully functional from fulcrum of detachment
As nonchalant peacefulness so witnessing

Let’s look at this quote from Ashtavakra Gita verse 20.3

“Where is Knowledge and ignorance? 
Where is “I”?
Where is “this”?
Where is “mine”?
Where is bondage and liberation? 
Self has no attributes”

21-February-2023

A Far Cry

A far cry; ascent, unless we decry
Fearful desires that makes loving heart sigh
Know, oh hermit, we are our tormentor 
Both, the meek prisoner and fierce captor 
Deaf to voice of conscience, as love draws nigh

Free soaring spirit, reaches for the sky
Living life fully, before we do die
Let’s make not merger, with The Creator
A far cry

This world of contrast, has both lows and highs
Ours is but to do, not to reason why
In silence and stillness, meditator
In midst of turbidity, placater
Is as yet the life we lead, a deep lie
A far cry

26-April-2021

This or That, Vol 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: A far cry

Bunny Hugger

Life lover
Death mugger
Hope giver
Low sugar
Water chugger 

Love lugger 
Tree hugger
Silly bugger
Fun frolicker 
Food fantasiser
Friend finder
Hug holder
Soft shouldered
Money shrugger

Deep diver
Divine dealer
Rift healer
Hate hater
Kindness creator
Destiny developer
Imperfect Father figure
Occasional tent rigger

Peace pursuer
Joy juggler
Plate wobbler 
Poetry writer
Destiny thriver 
Earth empowerer 
Environment ambassador
Eden encourager
Evil eradicator
Snake stamper 
Veganish validator
Animal appreciator
Wonderful wisdom warrior 

Future fantasiser 
Present meditator
Past appreciator
Sporty spectator 
Not so bad geezer
Summertime sneezer
Bespectacled bungler 
Kitchen surface scrubberer 
Sad movie blubberer
Healthcare handler
Magic marveller
Movie meddler
Piano plonker 
Canine craver
Book reveller
River walker
Christ carrier 

Church changer
Cross celebrator 
Deafness dabbler
Community keeper
Poverty challenger
Happiness harbinger 
Justice instigator

Prayer purveyor
Holiness hailer
Jehovah jotter
Jesus jostler  
Bible basher
Beautiful
Believer.

Slipping Into Slumber

‘Eat when hungry, sleep when sleepy’, adage,
simple enough, for a child innocent. 
Why then with insomnia, war we wage?
Methinks, due to bubbling thoughts resident,
we stagnate, mired in ego sediment.
As both the prisoner and tormentor,
spectator, as well as the conjurer,
freedom lies by living in the present,
moment to moment, as meditator,
ever present in inner sound current!

At the core, what matters is our response
to manifestations, as they unfold.
We look at each life offering askance,
whilst the child within, is trusting and bold,
both waking and sleeping, in joy beholds!
When boundaries cognised begin to blur,
we partake of life in playful caper,
vibrant in unending celebration!
In thought rested stillness, bliss alone stirs,
as we slide into sleep meditation!

24-January-2021

Now I lay me down to sleep poetry contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish

The Last Love Letter

Scented with perfume, in as imagined
Heart melting into each words inflexion 
Feeling softly, paper creases crumpled
We drew in each breath by resonation

The pen that so wrote, held by loves own hand
Bare canvas enlivened by touch divine
Within love bubble spherical we stand
Loving heart reads the words, as mind aligns

Essence of presence centred in the void 
As we become both reader and writer
Our unified consciousness overjoyed 
Unspoken words felt by meditator

Centred self thus reading the love letter
Is both the receptor and transmitter

07-January-2021

Devotion

“surrender requires a surrenderer ...
meditation needs a meditator ...
the child exuberant, a wonderer!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spoilt
for choice,
there being
multitude paths
to connect with God,
for in truth, He does all,
thereby all paths illusions,
in as appearing as practice
comforting mind that we are doing
whereas all the doing is done by God.

Fret not oh hermit! All paths are equal
or rephrased, devotion is the way,
wherein we choose to surrender
ego borne fears and desires,
which is to say, all thought,
merging by melting,
thus becoming
the essence
of Gods
love.

06-December-2020

Maya Induced Hypnosis

Swaying pendulum of the hypnotist
Impossible for mind-body to resist
It transfixes our attention in a trance
Stillness then being our only chance

Fact that singularity contains duality
Self inflicted hypnosis blocking clarity 
Is known only in stillness and silence
When ends with images our indulgence 

There is no meditator in our meditation 
Lifting of the veil mirrorless recognition
The clue offered every night we sleep
Dreams unreal where we laugh & weep

While awake ceasing ego identification 
We exit all illusions in quiet meditation 
Though memory imagery yet pursues
Vaporised presence bliss throb renews

Stillness innate within in each vibration 
Cessation at point of polarity rotation
Be it in thought or breath or heartbeat
Hiding in open sight this truth repeats

We see this not being bound by a spell 
Mesmerised by illusions where we dwell
To exit all we do is to go to the centre
Nonchalantly each life flavour savour

In stillness 

26-August-2020

An Orientation Allowing

Thinker thinking
A doer doing
Meditator meditating
Non-doer doing
Thus differentiating
Aspects of disassociating 
Likewise observed by observer
Yet the mind does filter
Whilst transcendence
Requires pristine innocence 
Not a doing or non-doing
But a happening
When we cease to size
And simply vaporise 
Being to become bliss
The That Oneness timeless
A singularity as entirety
Beyond space & time so infinity

The return
Uncertain
For who goes and who comes
When there is only One

Meditator

THE MEDITATOR

 Oh what joy it seems to me
Drinking an early morning tea.

While watching the sun rise across the Bay
Changing night into day.

My Maltese, lies stretched across my knees
Knows he's not here to play but me to please,

But, my time to meditate just went sour 
Oh God – What is the hour?

Not time to mediate
Just to contemplate.

Mistakes I've made and things I dread
How fast can I get back to bed?

One last thing so you don't get bit.
NOLI TANGERE CANEM MEAN. MORDIt !

It is what I wrote on his tag
So disregard those speedy wags.

Hope I spelled that right.
It means: "DON'T PAT MY DOG, HE BITES !"

I Thought I Am

I thought I am a great Writer
Till I did not get a pen to write and found myself wordless

I thought I am a great Singer
till I heared a most beautiful music which is soundless

I thought I am a great Mentor
Till I know that answers to some great questions are speechless

I thought I am a great Care Taker
Till I meet a poor helping others who was armless

I thought I am a great Traveller
Till I reach a point where every path was endless

I thought I am a great Meditator
Till I realize that "I" in me is not yet worthless

I thought I am a great Speaker
till I know there is only way to say truth is voiceless
 
I thought I am a great Lover
Till I know I cannot get it unless I become selfless

I thought I am great Creator
Till I saw a new born baby and its joyous existence, so seamless

I thought I am a great Healer
Till I know I cannot heal anything without one's willingness

I thought I am
till I dissolved in the sound of Godness

Icons Set In Stone

How firmly they stand,
the spires of history
that no one can destroy.
What a curious melange
of hate and love
and yesterday's antipathy.
Indifferent they are,
leaving us their basic legacy-- 
shining, mocking; it is their heritage,
and the winds of change have no effect
upon a single word.

Within their shadow is enshrined,
the totality of every lie 
and every truth we ever knew.
Tread softly in their midst--
It is rarified companionship they offer.
Dare we even to essay to smooth the path
historic footsteps made, 
or cleared the way for ours?

There is no answer from the silent skies.
It is the empty flagon of serenity,
the hopeless void that stretches out forever,
calling forth the meditator to his bench,
and time to its eternal rest.
        ~

The Owl and the Meditator

In the midst of meditation
Sinking into silence 
In the setting sun
Comes the haunting hoot
Of an obscure owl 
In the nearby autumn woods
Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo!
Echoing the quiet question 
Resonating in the recesses 
Of my primordial mind, 
Who, Who, Who, Who 
Am I?

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