I was to
I was to sell my soul
And gather every penny intact
Of what I once perceived irredeemable
Was now in sale for the meek and mighty alike
.
Go for more!I was to sell my soul
And gather every penny intact
Of what I once perceived irredeemable
Was now in sale for the meek and mighty alike
.
Go for more!I: ZEN PENCILS VOL 1: CARTOON FROM INSPIRATIONAL FOLKS
Out of all its forms, inspiration for me is really about connecting with something or someone.
While all our attachments with things can make our lives messy, CONNECTION with human beings is what we long for…
Further!I hang here behest,
Hanging unsolicited,
Contained in the modesty,
Of my love for you.
In this alien Spanish town,
Beyond the seas and land’s frown,
Might is upfront but the will is down,
No wonder that the sky has worn nature’s gown.
GO FOR MORE?The solitary crow Sings as if it’s his first ever
Spraying his being upon the mere mortals out there
Unaware of their own thirst for the Art that he is
But never complaining is he really
As if it’s for the Singing itself that he ever began to offer his pristine soul
.
Day in and Day out he Sings in and out
But it’s never for the routine’s sake that he ever broke the dawn
And bestowed upon the mindless crowd the legacy of his symphonies
Who gives a damn if their boredom or rebukes aren’t the praises that he strongly intended for
At least it’s a clear signal that they’ve listened
Which in itself was a mammoth task for this day and age
The Credit of which he never longed for or desired
.
The mighty crow one day wants to fly till the zenith
Like those eagles do
It’s just that his responsibilities have overtaken him
Well beyond his stature and age
And that his heart ever longs for that one sincere ear
Willing to dissolve their differences till his toes
So long he waits
.
But don’t you misunderstand
At the end he doesn’t want your pity or sympathy
As it’s not the symphonies or the songs
Neither his being nor his might
That he refers to his art
It’s the Waiting…
And an ocean of it
Slowly dripping itself to it’s full potential
Where suddenly he is not the rebuked or the ignored
But that Majestic Whale !
Songs of which the very ocean takes up upon itself for it’s own glory
Howsoever Undefined or Disguised it might be
.
Dear you,
I LOST MY MIND! There there! No one can accuse me of hiding it. Yes its out there now. In the open skies and the open blues.
Never thought that I would be this way, and then reveal it in such a way. You know the way we say ‘Hello there !’ or ‘Its a good weather today.’
Like when in the cusp of a tea and a cigarette, someone naturally starts to expound the sermons of his life, The fruit of which was getting dry and Juicing it suddenly became more than just necessary.
I LOST MY MIND.
Yes, now they too are saying it. Celebrating it, rejoicing it. Almost as if a chant within a chant, with no meaning of and by itself. Transmitting it further into the valley of set boundaries and set patterns, the valley where the others (?)live. Transmitting it from one to another, like a playful happening, part truth part gospel. Hoping to reach a point where they reluctantly so, become one.
And yet there are a few. Who are more than willing to strive it out into doom. Who reject to ferment themselves in the sage’s being. Who at the most call themselves truth seekers, but have a secret affair with their own concrete and set desires. Who have, almost as a self imposition, resolved to save humanity from its end and become the heroes that’ll show the way of TOMORROW. Mighty is their way! Which in their lust of seeking a later tomorrow, have forsaken their very now present.
I LOST MY MIND, but in turn had to preserve a little in disguise, enough to have a genuine conversation. To tell them, that my people aren’t bad people. To tell them, that they are just different bodies longing to have their hearts united. To tell them, that the no mind people are actually the ones who mind and who’ll mind their own and each other’s existence.
And that of whatever mind is left of me,
I’d let you smoke it out,
Or melt it with the flame of no mind-ness,
That is there deep within you too,
And make a tea out of it.
Within the cusp of which along the way, whichever you chose, you too lose something of your own.
Thank you
The No Mind Sage
Just make it better. Better than what it should be. Better than what it must be. Better than what, IT IS.
Why in the world should you dare to make it better?
To attain the depth akin to the oceans,
Digging as deep
And diving as deep as it becomes,
To a point where the act of attaining becomes second nature,
First being the will of my Lord.
Knock knock?The overarching theme of this little blog here is just this: It better be nothing or it ain’t worth my life.
So, why this obsession with this no-thingness?
Let us now roll with the truth here, starting now!
Really?I mean,in the end its Nothing!every moment , I adore you more and more
Bit by bit.. Drop by drop..
The affection collecting into a vast ocean,
Of I don’t know what,
Inside which, O little me !
…DROWNED… I am nothing.
Go for more?