i don't know if its the pain that wont leave me
or
me who won't leave the pain.

To France , to your son's and daughters

France, Beloved to those who believe in brotherhood and freedom ,

Words mourn,
and i cannot talk of peace.

Silences have never been so heavier
Even the leaves on the trees won't move.

This pain
heavy as the wars that has been lived by every country
When the dead pile up like logs in winter
That fire alone can make them dance.

Human history has been so often written thus

How much of 'us' has been burnt into ashes. and how little has been left..

The same words the others read to implore to god

Transforms everything into hatred
Programmed to kill anything, and Anyone.

Books
no matter they say how sacred they are..... Kills God
When they kill humanity.

You cannot talk about the myth and Phoenixes to those whose children have fallen
For they know only very few  rise again from such a sorrow

The rest of the world might forget what they will remember
to the last days of their lives....
How ' a moment ' frozen
can freeze the rest of your life

This is 14 July 2016, south of France

France, i feel what you feel
what every soldier parading the Champs de Mars will feel
under the bouncing of their feet.

The night held the full moon
like a white rose in its hand

while my forefather's anguishes
climbed out of my bones
God's words are as silent as this moonlight that pours
in whispers.
Those who called
called God
as though they knew where he was
whereas i ve only the moonlight to guide me out of my darkness

Beloved, Step into this river.
We could drink our solitudes for tea
and leave the biscuit crumbs on
the table clothes of each other's skin
Pecking at them
with lustful beaks of our minds.

Ungloriously
we shall look at the dying sun.
Consoling the scars we carry .

The scars that has been
And those that will never be.

The bitter taste of the known gnaws beneath
our tongues.
While our world mumbles in fear to deaf gods.

Nevertheless, the acuphene is only a hum that wont disturb
the music of silence,

Nor stop us being a lover again.

If we could look into the mirrors of our faces
and
watch the melting of the sorrows we deny.
And, In denial
we feel the stink in every god's shitpot.
And the leftovers of his paradise.

Remembering to forget
our last dance in the sand.

Let the winds take them away ....
the winds take away our sand dunes
into a forest
a forest growing in our hearts
growing out of our own myth and mystery .

So what
So what if hatred are the shoes in which we walk....

Screaming
blasphemy for philosophy.

What if we scream

we scream
from the sour rivers of our experiences.

So what if insanity laughs
it laughs in every crumb we ate.
And the bitterness now
numbs the babbling of our tongue.

So what if indifferences puts her arms arround our shoulders
drying the streams of life.

So what
if our open eyes suffocate in their blindness
before these beautiful landscapes
transforming canvases
drenched with wet paints of our pain.

Refusing to die
even when the walls of our ego fall upon us
in crushing piles
kissing the feet of the gods we have created
from
the hankering of our desires for heaven and immortality.

Step into this river
never to be the same again.

When memories have been washed away
our own godheads shall no more be a myth.

Our faces shall have their skin
made from the scintillating of Love.

From the endless to endless
we shall stay flowing.

From the nameless to silence
we shall sing our songs
and dance our dances.

The Beautiful shall no longer be a quest
but the emanation of our beings.

Our shoes
discarded by its uselessness, we will walk.

We walk barefeet in our souls,
and without wings we fly in our heavens.

The landscapes where we wander
wanders also our rivers

Thus,
Be witness to them
open  eyes.
And open hearts

For
it is'nt through the opening of our eyes  alone we
shall witness
our ungowning self.


Step into this river

the endless river of breath.
where the silences of Humanity
dare become words.

Words -- for which we fought and killed
Words --for which we knelt and kissed
because they were beautiful.

Words -- the ambassadors of Gods
who were there to remind us --of Ourselves.

but what have we remembered
and what have we forgotten.

Step into this river
this river of breath

so each breath
shall melt down our masks
unfold the faceless face
unfold as every flower.

Step into this river

Step into this river
within each heart

to flows
towards something , nothing and everything.

the springtime lurks out
the most beautiful perfume spreads into the nostrils of our soul

and
only one word shall name it.

'Love'!....

is that a word or its silence!


Step into this river

Love is more than a word created by silence
more than silence created by the word

as is the ever changing mirth
is on the lips of the Nameless.

Each day
invites us through its open doors
passing secrets only our emptiness can grasp....

translations only our silence can understand!

Be here then, with the river
endlessly flowing
towards the nameless.

The happiness that we seek -- is not god.

We are gods when we are happy.

Happiness is an inside thing
a flower
Love flowering.

The flowering of love
is God!
because there's no better word for it.

It does'nt come from our mere living
it does'nt come from our mere dying

it comes from our caring
consciously how it renders
life its preciousness.

Life or death won't make no differences.

Remember this
you are the very pulse of Life.

So beat in its awareness
as in God's own heart beat. 

All i have is this body

Within which i run ,i hop, i struggle
i hide, i play, i stay quiet, i wait.

my body
has its weather,
so it rains, gets sunny, cold ,warm.

it has its day and night
it has its seasons

it has
its landscapes, its music, a language of its own.

It has so much that i ignore how much.

But at times i'm attentive to it in a natural sort of way
that leaves me marvelling
at all the things happening inside,
some, in mysterious ways.

When i get worried it gets worried
when i smile it smiles.

The woods engorged with the faint early morning light
engorged as much with its silence
holds
moments
as pure as prayer,

holds
connections to the wholeness,
to life,
to beauty,
to doors opening to some kind of heaven.

i witness something uncoiling out of me, out of my body.

And, it goes quietly
through the stillness of things,

to watch and look out,
to greet other kind of silences....

silences of the flowers,
of the leaves, of the fields
of the stones, of the clouds,
of the water in the ponds,
careful not to disturb the ants,
the dragonflies on the reeds ,
the lazily floating frogs....

Then, it comes back and settles inside my body again.

i feel the freshness of every single thing it has visited,

it melts and becomes substances in my blood
giving me an understanding
how everything is so vast in its own ways
how everything is so inseperable, so inter-related.

i eat and drink this universe with my body.

A new light enters
Lighter than silence
Lighter than words

This morning is so overwhelming
This blue sky _ is really me

The wild wind tangles in her hair
The iris of her eyes
Drinks something that
the sun moon and the stars drinks

From the banks of an untamed ocean
she picks up wet pebbles
as though touching something we both lost a long time ago

In my hands a pebble burns
Like a souvenir when all the
Poems in the sky were ours.