Samadhi- The meditation

There he sat in oneness with the cosmos

Eyes closed, in lotus position he sat cradling the universe

memory and desire stilled the compass of love

which pointed in east-west and the conundrum of the west

he put to the east, looking for questions dissolving into the abyss

of time and space, time-space dissolving into the true being

His sense of awakening and awareness as weakening

Free floating in the constellations he as a soul nothing

but himself without a space suit feeling the ever stretching space

and as a chanceless in the samadhi, eternally connected to

the music of spheres wringing in the air and calling upon

the name of love and vanishing ego leaves behind nothingness

and the stillness of being.

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A momento

I have a rhythm that blinds
the light falling from the sun
cut off into half like the melon
that I had put aside with pride
I would feed her with delight
and carefully nudge the body entwined
in a whisper,I hush the room
and bending upon the shadows
is the sunlight fixated upon the marble
stones where is the God? then
In a loose heaven off the north pole
on the dawning haze that I
open the door into a blazing day
hardly rubbished by time.
My time has been mend by the clock
on the wall. Here is the bend in
time and space and the empty room
is the place where all meet to forget
A tango!

what is love?

Two souls wait for each other like hunchback of Notre Dame wait for the evening gloam

Each bitting the web of time in its own way to merge love and beauty alike in equal measure

Morroco was a distant shore in those days where a painter would learn thousand stars stripped on to the canvas

And a muse of Montreal dreams chase the evening clouds out into the dusty roads till soaking wet in rain

What is love then? To pent up in rain, or stars, or dusty roads or each other then

to wait for nothing in the mildew thoughts of the mountains, to give away a part of oneself as the one soul speaks up

the silence in wooing the other for nothingness!

Desolate table

It is freezing for big freeze is the loose fate of all the cosmos

Its weeping like a maudlin cat having lost the summer for nothing

I am writing on a desolate table with the TV sports on

Its Copernican dream tearing itself apart for Mathematics is too strong

The love of a woman is the forlorn silence that I beg to differ rather than

Agree with the God’s words for the eve was left out in the cold

On a dreary April morning when the lock clicked with the fortune

Of a Spiderman out to bend the destiny with the web and wipe out itself

Its the desolate table with stakes on of a failure of the cascading skies

To unwind for one kiss is the dream of a gypsy woman out in the folds

Of Child’s destiny to turn the fruit rather sweet than to snatch from

The gaping mouths of a twenty and score being fed for nothing

While I on a desolate table continue my yarn of a story on and on.

A Visitation

Being on the Saturn is not a dream but a visitation

that comes and stays with the solemn silence of

meditating upon human soul that is on a flyby

to the universe which is the call for a wine bubbling

with fishes upon the seas of imagination

there is nothing more, nothing less than the echo of heart

I must surrender to you the day when I had left for

like Cassini space probe to know the silence of the universe

and come back by the providence of the wisdom.

To know your heart is the hisotry of love science.

The Ghost time

What to chase in the daily rush of living?

Nothing but to be chased by the rush itself

An immortal soul pondering over the universe

is but a desire of the civilization that

comes to stand still and wondering

whether we are significant outright

in the scheme of higher reality

Is the star stuff of which we are made of

Is our only consolation that we too sparkle

like the ghost of time in 13.7 billion age of the universe

No Consolation for love

The riddle of the universe deepens

with a pen daub in ink thickens

The world itself out chickens

There is no idea that says love is strong

nor the life is dependent upon a song

It barely chuckles that lovers are strangers

having a loose belly that sickens with dangers

of living alone on this cape of existence

no doubt the God is denied as if by solemn

promise to die the death that is anything but mortal

And immortality of Physics all but sickens