Home Poetry – Hearts on Fire
POETRY -- Hearts on Fire!

The function of the study and writing of Spiritual Poetry is to cultivate and intensify ‘mumukshutva’ (the intense yearning for liberation) and to then to use this newly “charged up emotional energy” (bhakti) as an aid in the process of Self and God–Realization.

Even with the “deep” study of spiritual literature, the problem is that we soon forget the “knowledge” we have gained from such study.  You have had many insights and moments of profound revelations in the course of your reading and hearing of spiritual teachings but then —almost immediately—you forget them the moment you close the book or leave satsang (spiritual meetings).  This simply means that there still remains a “functional” gap between your “knowledge” and your BEING.  A gap still exists between your head and your “heart”—there still remains a ‘gap’ between your knowing, and your doing.  The constant, uninterrupted “remembering” of the TRUTH, even while in the midst of daily life, is a must, in order to “live” a life based on the truth—and nothing but the truth.

Poetry that comes from the depth of your own heart becomes a kind of spiritual practice in and of itself; a kind of Vipassana Yoga (heart-based mindfulness) and a great aid for living a truly spiritual life.  Otherwise, you will just keep on “forgetting the Dharma” (spiritual teachings) and go on reacting to “reality” and life out of your “old” (and egoic) emotional conditioning. …reacting out of “Spiritual Ignorance “(Maya) in spite of what you have heard (or read) and intellectually understood.

Many times, you have heard:  “You are the non-dual Self and only PURE consciousness itself”—but, almost as soon as you have heard and tacitly understood it … you forget.  One of the reasons for this “immediate amnesia” is that:  what you had momentarily experienced and tacitly understood was not emotionally charged.  Any experience we have that is “emotionally charged” we don’t forget! … whether positive or negative!  We simply can’t “forget” them even if we try because they have been emotionally “embedded” (wired) into our brain and mind.  And therefore, you ALWAYS remember them—even in the midst of your day-to-day life and living; they remain fixed in our awareness and “dictates” our every activity in words, thoughts and deeds.  Our every choice and decision made in our life, what you will do — or will not do — is entirely dictated by the “emotional charge” such choice of action has for you.

Poetry “impacts” you at the very core of your being — beyond all logic and reasoning.  Spiritual poetry goes “straight to the heart” and breaks it wide-open unleashing an infinite capacity to love.  The hearing and writing of poetry does something to you.  It hits you in the chest!  Poetry takes a mysterious route—bypassing the mind and entering directly into the “heart” of your very being—circumventing the path of thought and thinking.  Certain symptoms arise when reading or writing poetry … a kind of ecstasy.  It expresses an intense emotional attachment and love that a devotee feels for their personal idea of “God” (Ishta); it is an expression of bhakti (divine love).  The spiritual, “mystic” poet speak out of a state of “bireh” (intense longing) produced by the absence (or presence) of the beloved Lord.  Thus, the Poetry Kula seeks to use our emotions “rightly” as a means for enhancing and deepening our spiritual practice and spiritual growth.


The Poetry Kula

 

The Hell With It All

“Beloved”

With “I”, “You” Appear

With “You”, “I” Disappear

What is this game of cat & mouse we Play?

There are moments while in my pursuit of You,

I appear to be gaining ground,

Then in the mere blink of an eye,

I cannot even glimpse You in the distance.

In my innermost feelings there remain remnants of Your Fragrance,

And, though weary and worn I continue to dream,

of those wonderful visions that is Our Love Affair!

Are You my Groom, am I Your Bride?
Why is it my Love, You continuously hide?

From me, whose heart bleeds with an agony,

Unmentionable with this body’s tongue,

Won’t You end this pain, won’t You allow me to find,
Won’t You simply await at my door, will You not be so kind?

NO?  Well to hell with it All, I shall simply choose death,
Without You, how there’s not even life in this body’s breath.

To hell with it all, no wealth and nothing to gain,
Forever soaked in this misery, soaked in this pain.

Pssss!  Beloved, did You enjoy the movie, were You convinced that it was True?
There could Never be an “I” that is separate from “You!”

What a hell of a performance, huh?  An award winner for sure,
The star of this drama, has an leading role, without a cure!

Ummmmmm…

--gurumukhaji

 

Ishvara



Are you my “Divine Will?”

Creating a ‘thirst’ within Yourself, that can never be fulfilled?

Who sat You upon the Throne, made You Ruler of this Place?

What a ‘Deed’ You must have done, to have Fallen so far from Grace!

You brought forth candy,

Knowing it’s not the Source of Sweet!

You gave birth to strangers,

Who shall only know deceit?

As Ishvara, I have played on the Milky Way,

I’ve exploded in a Million Skies.

Yet never has there been a Longing,

To be Lost in such a Disguise!

I shall Grant myself the Boon of Love,

For None Other than the Self,

To take me Home to Where I Belong,

For I Created even that Depth!

--Gurumukhaji

 

He Has Sent Me To The Bar!

I walked down Main Street for

about a mile or so;

Passing the tavern, I didn’t see

any of the drunks I know.

I kept on going; in fact I

began walking quite fast;

In a road filled with strangers,

might just mean my ass.

 

Never once did it occur that

my pocket had a hole;

Never once did I notice,

I was alone on this stroll.

 

Much to my surprise, the road

began to turn and twist;

It was then; I knew for certain,

my safety was at risk.

Of course, now I hustle for a ride

and get quickly off the street;

No different now than a beggar,

no telling what fate I’d meet.

 

I urgently began to ret

race my steps,

to recover what I’d lost;

I was looking to regain a coin

or two just to cover life’s cost.

 

I found covered in the grass

a puddle of muddy water,

Reflecting the Lord’s name,

which swiftly I began to utter;

 

As I walked this road alone,

in the darkness of the night,

My whispers soon became shouts,

which restored again my sight;

Arriving back at the tavern, thirsty,

hungry and cold,

I entered most humbly, to give

wine to my soul;

 

Ah! What rest, what peace, and what joy,

My Love, has restored,

The wealth of the Lord’s Name, by me,

shall forever be adored!

--Gurumukhaji

 

The Tavern


The Tavern is where all Lover's go

in hope of finding the Beloved

tending the bar,

Lover's from all over come,

to quench their thirst for wine,

 

Other's come just to sit at the feet,

to adorn the Beloved with gifts,

Then there is those who come,

to become fruit upon the Vine.

 

Once the fruit is ripe enough,

the Beloved tramples it through and through,

From the heavens and afar you can hear

the moans of the fruit as it is crushed,

 

The music is quite extraordinaire,

the groans and moans excite the stars,

Oh what a sight to see, the Drunkards

began their dance unrehearsed and Ahhh, unrushed.

 

Oh Dear Beloved, how I long to be the fruit,

growing steadily upon Your Vine,

Oh Dear Beloved, my heart aches

for the ultimate Entwine.

 

These mere drinks that this swine

has served, are unworthy of Your Eye,

It is an honor this back room You share,

for amateurs such as I.

 

Dear Hafiz, I shall now make a toast,

before the midnight hour,

and place myself under Your Feet,

as my Heart You must devour.

 

Take me Oh My Love,

do with me what You Must,

Don't dare spare me another

minute, before I turn to dust.

 

I shall Marvel at being that dust,

which blows through the Tavern's Door,

For then Your Company I shall

certainly have, Now and Forever More!

 

Now, Shhhhhhh!  Lalla is wide awake...

--Gurumukhaji

 

Babes in Toyland


The infinite indivisible made visible.

She's undulating.

A primal urge, "Create beauty."

Lover, artist, scientist.

All driven just to know This.

Building imaginary walls for her playpen,

She carefully gives each newborn a toy.

Beautiful, unique, the void becomes magical land.

"Look!" says one child.

He waves his wand.

Dazzling nebulae of florescent rainbows

emerge reaching every corner of the nursery.

Their eyes content.

Their vision crowded.

Another child, "Oh ya?  Listen"

He blows through his flute.

The music of one hundred thousand angles

professing their love for each other.

Their ears pleased.

Their hearing deafened.

 

In excitement another child grabs his toy tightly,

Revealing hidden thorns.

"Ouch"

Curious, he inspects it while others play.

Hidden markings on it say,

 

"Where did this come from?"

--Seva Murti

 

Sweetest of the Sweet!

My Sweetest Love, I will write Inner Simran for Thee until…

 

til my fingers flesh is sore and worn,

til the desires of my heart melt and fall away.

til the emergence of spirit and true love is born,

til the dark night no longer shadows the day.

 

My Sweetest Love, I will write Inner Simran for Thee until…

 

til there are no more beats required of my heart,

til in this selfish state, my ego, no longer walks proud,

til all evil thoughts, greed and lust depart,

til the rain no longer fills the cloud.

 

My Sweetest Love, I will write Simran for Thee until…

 

til there are no more words in my mouth left to speak,

til all hunger and thirst completely dissolve,

til my attachment to this false self is sufficiently weak,

til my effort to love Thee has from childhood evolved.

 

and,

 

My Sweetest Love, One so gentle and so fair,

You have granted me that which no one else ever could,

You have continuously lifted me from pain and despair,

Loved me unconditionally, as none other would.

 

So, My Dearest Love, for Thee I will forever write,

giving attention to You however possible, however small,

with every passing moment I can, ever watching for the light,

Rising with intensity to grow, following each and every fall.

 

In this Wineshop of Yours, My Love, is the Sweetest of the Sweet,

I’ve vowed to remain a Drunkard, until the Day We Meet!

--Gurumukhaji

 

Can You Tell Me?


Can You tell me, who is this that continues

to write these verses about love?

I have found that it is not I.

Can You tell me from what

are these feelings spoken of?

They bring rivers of tears to these eyes.

 

So long have this fool, believed it is she,

Expressing a “love” sincerely and deep,

Whose hand is it that writes this poetry for Thee,

Dear and Compassionate One,

please won’t You give me a peep?

 

Can You tell me, who is the imposter and who is real?

It seems that this heart is consumed and can’t break the spell,

So much Joy to contain, so much Pain to reveal,

Solve for this beggar the mystery, the truth to her please tell.

 

Last night I met a stranger, she too dwells in this house,

Briefly for a moment, our hearts intertwined,

We both inquired to You what is this treasures cost?

Then You Simply Smiled and poured us both some wine.

 

My Lord, My Lover, won’t for me You please reveal,

What is this strange and

unusual occurrence between us two,

There are thieves and bandits

lurking awaiting My Love, to steal,

Those priceless jewels within, addressed only to You!

 

So Now Please,

Can You Tell?

Shhhhh!

 

I might Explode. . .

-- Gurumukhaji

 

The Mountain


Mighty and magnificent

Visible throughout the Universe

From peak to base

Is carved a face

The face of God

 

The firmament it's hair

The clouds it's eyebrows

Sheer cliffs it's cheeks

Entire countries would be inhaled

into the caverns of its nostrils

without a trace

Its mouth able to disappear

a galaxy with a halfhearted puff

 

The world sinks from view

I am alone with the mountain

The seer sees a distant solitary shadow

A speck

Myself

 

Prostrated hard

Arms outstretched

Face pressed down into the dirt

Pebbles penetrate the skin

Eyes squeezed tight

Nose flattened

Mouth's corners gasping at dust filled air

 

I am frozen

Thunderstruck

Afraid to move

Filled with awe

Quivering with respect

Gratitude overflowing

 

I owe everything to the mountain

 

Please it

Please it

Please it

 

Lest I remain forever buried in this tomb.

Animated statue of lead

 

May the voltage of its electric light

well up inside and power my

every thought, word and deed

in accord with its divine command

 

Bestower of salvation

Of infinity

 

Please it.

My Ishta Devata

This mountain

--Devataji

 

Love?


What is this love?

Did I ever really know?

Only a reflection

Of egoic fancy

 

An occasional burst

Born of need and thirst

But always fleeting

 

Can love be grown?

Appreciation sown?

Gratitude splashing all over?

 

A mother's love it's true

Must be closest to You

But it only makes me wonder

 

The love of which I speak

Starts off quiet and meek

So we don't seem to notice its sprouting

 

The kind of love You give

So that we may love

 

Redeeming

Earth shattering

Ignorance smashing

 

Not fairy tale love

 

Love that whispers of unimaginable heights

And which must be returned to be reached

 

Not the gentle love of Jesus

Second stage love

Old Testament love

Put your son on an altar and pierce

his heart with a steel blade, love

 

Gangsta love

 

Give the Lord what he requires and ye shall BE love, love

 

This love is not free

For free love go back to your ignorance

 

This love is earned

Earned by love. Your love. My love.

 

By gleefully surrendering everything you believe yourself to be, love

Standing naked before God with nothing, love

 

Not one desire

Not one craving

Mind pure

Utterly, completely, joyously devoted

 

To Him.

 

Birthright earned

Gates thrown wide

 

Only then you will know love

Only then you will realize love

Only then will love's dazzling brilliance shoot from your
fingertips, eyes, toes, mouth and hair

 

Then you will be love

--Devataji

 

The Sixth Kosha


Around my heart

Is a prison built of stone and steel

Dank and dark

Where sunlight is only a faint memory

 

Deep with this prison

I sit

And wait

The world only in my dreams

 

How I long to hold the gaze of another

Unblinking

Without temerity

Steeped in our connection that we are one

 

I hear a faint echo

The cavernous reverb of a mighty hammer

Pounding the far away gates of my heart

 

Boom.....boom

 

I leap around my cell

A barefoot flurry of hair and rags and dust

My fists pump the air

I am exultant

 

It has been so long

For I know now that my wait will be over soon

 

The battle is underway

 

The Bastille has been stormed

--Devataji

 

Because it was asked


Black sea.

Infinite.

Velvet.

Perfect.

Pure potentia.

Not even begun, but may.

A proposition.

Arise?

So it begins.

 

Once possible,

Now already the case.

And thus it was, and always will be.

All fairy tales need a timeline.

How else would a ghost know

It never existed?

 

The snowflake is its crystal.

So an atom, so the solar system.

The mind, the cosmos.

The leaf is the same as its branch,

The same as the tree,

The same as the forest.

Do you get it yet?

 

But here I am another ghost telling ghost stories.

--Seva Murti


Delicious chai

Tits and ass.

Wait till you see what I can do!

I'm sorry, I was listening to you?

Shit I figured that out months ago.

I'm so powerful.

How much do I have?

I want fucking more.

 

Just a little more.

Almost there.

I lied.

A little more….

A little more…

Wait!

 

Here I am.

Here I am.

…Here I am.

What was I doing?

 

Ooooh.

I see.

 

Soft and swift,

She expands.

That horrible hoard of thoughts,

Dissolving.

 

Now I am a wave of thousands.

My limbs playing the rhythm,

Of my heart conductor.

 

A man passes by.

He sees the my eyes drowning in

their own sweetness.

"You wanna get more high?"

 

Now this reverie has lost me.

I can't finish!

Just sip on my own being.

 

And sadly I will go back to grasp,

Beautiful,

Tantalizing,

Mezmorizing,

Burning Coals.

--Seva Murti

 

“Freedom” What is it really?


my Master said to me:

“the True War has not begun….”

 

I am presently, a private first class disciple,

in this War on Ego.

However, upon ‘promotion’ to gunnery sergeant,

I gallantly, mounted for battle.

 

Placing this newly conditioned physical body

in position as my fortress in the North,

 

I then geometrically place my emotions & feelings

charged with electrifying Devotion to the West,

My investigation into this kinda War,

revealed I must go way ‘beyond’ my current Best.

 

Soldiers of keen knowledge,

formed an iron wall to the South,

With orders to await my signal,

before the “lynch men mount.”

 

I strategically assembled my unrelenting Heart,

which would attack from the East,

For truly I had discovered, the fierceness of this Beast.

 

While awaiting a brilliantly lit Sun, to reveal all that

would be encountered, as this battle begun.

I sat with much anticipation,

fell asleep & dreamt of ‘emancipation’.

 

I saw a vision of a cloudy sky, and with my breath,

I gently blew, a soft breeze of soothing air,

to crystallize my view.

 

Not far in the distance I could see the wondrous

& brilliant moon, chanting a beautiful melody,

“It will all be over soon.”

 

Merrily I began to swirl, dancing as the music played,

and as I slowed to a halt my spin,

into a bed of flowers I laid.

 

Then, the Trumpet Sounded, the time of War is here!
And onward I marched with my

shield of faith, absent was doubt & fear.

 

As my “soldiers” and “I” engaged,

the enemies we were intent to slay,

We were all struck down in an instance,

before the Dawn of Day!

 

Silence!  Silence! Silence!

--Gurumukhaji

 

I had to ask of Master


To receive my daily bread

Can I find love in suffering?

Yes, so it was said

Can I find love in poverty?

Yes, so it was said

Can I find love in killing?

Yes, so it was said

Can I find love in famine? Plague?

Rampant war? Bloodshed?

Can I find love in evil men who lie in burning beds?

Can I find love in drought? Disease? Destruction?

Chopped off heads?

How can I find this love you speak?

What’s asking, is what was said?

He said to simply look within

All else, just pay no mind

The kingdom of God is right within

Love is always, all the time

--Abhyasi


The World That I Created


The world that I created

Is on fire

And it’s a liar

It loves to smoke itself

Get high on itself

Yet feel the burn

Of discontent for

Every dead desire.

Smell its stench

Suffocating the soul.

Master says

Jump into my fire

Where the air is fresh.

Are you scared

He will drop you

In mid-air?

Are you afraid

This false protection

Begging for attention

Is your only savior?

Is it your “only” something?

Or is it nothing?

Trade it for a Real Intention.

You have another dimension.

What is your new Address?

Leave the fire of the liar.

Jump to the Truth

Conquest.

--viveka


Longing


For years I’ve longed for you

Going through the motions, the daily grind

Performing acts, which in retrospect…mean nothing

Futile attempts with fleeting rewards

Adorning this body with garbs, trinkets and tassels

Seeking false titles, hollow status, feckless esteem

Just to be perceived by those eyes…those ‘others’ eyes

As revered…as worthy…to validate my own blindness

Oh precious relics of my own despair,

How I long to shed these trappings

These beautiful, intricate veils of duplicity I call home

And yet, a loud silence, a rhythmic stillness within

Beckons a return from this home

Away from nowhere, back to nothing, to remember these roots

O beauty, despite the passage of space and time

For this moment, I shall long no more

--Abhyasi


The Mat


Seeds be sown

Watered and grown

Reaping the divine

Magnanimous throne

Mantra manifest

Silent and still

Disciplined, deliberate

Exercise will

Meditate…live it up

Worldly thoughts…give it up

Silly thoughts…interrupt

Hold your pose…don’t get up

Get off track…bring it back

Between the brows...is where it’s at

Fleeting thoughts…don’t interact

Just let em’ go…no need to act

Only fools miss the mat

Maya called, don’t call her back

Don’t call her back

Maya calls, don’t call her back

For the time put down the phone

Simran…Bhajan…take me home

Take me home…

Simran…Bhajan…take me home

Happiness is not a task

Already there, I’m free at last…

Free at last

Always there, I’m free at last…

Guru say, disciple do

Disciple don’t, disciple through

--Abhyasi


No Where To Go


The world I thought was true

Bit by bit

Crumbles around me

 

Is this my son?

Is anything mine?

 

It's a dream I'm told

Notice it

 

But in my sleep even bad dreams

are somehow good

 

Not here

 

I just want to sleep

Sleep

 

Surrender

And bring sleep to the light of day

--Devataji


Methinks this must be sport for Gurus


Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

Else why would they come?

 

A cosmic superbowl?

A scoreboard spanning the Heavens?

Gurus 10

Earth 6 billion

 

Why do I deserve such Grace?

 

Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

There can be no other Why

 

Plucking us one by one

from this firmament

 

Pointing a thousand thirsty horses

toward some cool distant pond

Then watching as they all sprint the wrong way

 

Revved down in moments

By the berries along their path

 

Again

And again

And again

 

Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

There can be no other Why

Toiling tirelessly for Love's expression

As if time had no meaning

 

Never a complaint

Never a judgement

Patience immeasurable

 

Methinks this must be Love for Gurus

There can be no other why

--Devataji


Oh Wonderer!


Oh Wonderer, in your travels you have
eheld many things:

The sun, stars, moon, rivers, oceans, mountains,
hilltops, trees, valleys, newborn babies,
elderly men, women, families,
rainy days, cold days and the list
could go on and on;

Yet when your Eyes beheld the Guru
for the first time you realized
that you have “seen” Love.

Then,

Oh Wonderer, on your life journey:

You heard the thunder, you listened
to melodies, you embellished the
voices of friends, siblings,
many many times you encountered
birds chirping the breezy wind
on your body, then, when for the
first time the Guru spoke to you,
you realized you had “heard” Love.

For years now, oh wonderer you’ve
held the hands of friends & family. 
You’ve been kissed by loved ones,
you’ve embraced the warmth
of a summer breeze, you’ve smiled
when enwrapped in the
waters of the ocean blue,

and it is only now, dear one,
when held in the arms of the
Guru, you realize, you have “felt” Love.

Oh Sweet Wonderer,

You have read many writings,
you have even rendered your own. 
You have been once struck &
danced in a tranquility unexplained,

And now, oh wonderer,
what delight as once whispered
by the Guru, you own sweet name,

You can sweetly, exclaim: 
You have “tasted” Love!

Drink oh wonderer,
drink until you have been
consumed by this Love!

--Gurumukhaji


The Spiritual Goal & the Spiritual Gift


Infinity, ah hah,

that shall be ‘my’ goal,

“I” will not suffer,
“I” will not grow old.

Bliss, ummmmm, how,
Delightful its Sound,

“I” shall be set free;
“I” no longer will be bound!

Many, many years,
in pursuit of this “Goal,”

Ups & Downs most surely
taking its toll.

I truly examined
this Goal of ‘Mine’

So, let me now share
what it is that I find.

Setting the Goal was for
this ‘conditional’ “I,”

That ‘self’ which surely
one day must die!

Discipline, sacrifice,
etiquette and such,

All belong to the realm,
of hearing, sight, taste & of course touch.

Then, where “I” ask will the
Path lead me to?

What makes my Spiritual Practice,
so difficult to do?

I’m committed to succeeding,
no matter what the cost,

Determined to reach my Goal,
no matter what the loss!

Then, Ahhh to my delight,
“I” realized,

The Goal that I set,
was not the Prize.

What I pursue, already
is close & most dear,

What I was trying to achieve
is already Here!

I took a look ‘Inside’
and what I found,

Is that it is the very pursuit
that keeps chained & bound.

The very Eyes, I often
look intently into,

Is none other than the Gift,
that is You!

All that I need
has been here always,

All that I desire,
is already the case.

So what is it that
I must lift?

Is only my arms

& Embrace this Precious Gift!

--Gurumukhaji


As I take hold of Moments Passing


In a seemingly subtle agony, I sit in utter despair, and I “long”
for You to grant me “longing,”, in which I would never
forget Your glazing stare, ever remembering my many
burdens that You bear.

 

Oh’ Dear Sweet Master, still yet a child, I:

The slightest speckle of “love” and I run to check its
realness with You, as a little girl would get from her dad,
feelings as it is a ton of diamonds, taking my sight away,
and find that once again I’ve only come perhaps a little
closer to not wondering far way.

 

Just a trickle of Your vibration and I am sure,
“I’ve made it there,” not ever seeing Your true abode,
nor having ever paid the fare,  It only seems that I’ve
done a lot of walking, and really, I have gone nowhere.

 

Master, with just a “whee” bit of even un-concentrated
attention, I experience such joy, I feel that there is no
time to waste, I must call or write to you with all
urgency and haste.

 

I beg, to learn how to beg, I pray, to learn how to pray,
I look, simply to learn how to look.  I read to find
solace in the book, from “Real Lovers” since gone by;
and now sensing and feeling, my “lack”,
a river of tears fill each eye.

 

You ask me do I understand, and my reply is sometimes
“yes” I do, but honestly My Dear Lord, I don’t
believe this is true.  For what really is “understanding”
when I am so far away from You, unable to even
embrace cure, that will heal my Oh! so sick “point of view!”

 

It seems that at times, I simply have learned to settle
for the “tid bits” and “crumbs,” a scent of You now and
then, a flash of musical ecstasy, from the
memories “of when!”

 

So Master, won’t you please grant just one wish of this
sinner, that she may come to know?  That this journey
she will travel so very, very long, is merely just a great
mirage, for there is nowhere to go!

 

She is already in that place she seeks, already there indeed,
already with her Lord, who has fulfilled her every need!

--Gurumukhaji


I asked the Master


I asked the Master,

What holds me back.

He said,

You want to do this

Your own

Fucking

Way.

--Seva Murti


I asked God Simply


I asked God simply,

"What must I do to know you?

Who's book should I read?

Who's path should I follow?

How many prayers?

How many mantras?

Tell me… what must I do?"

He answered,

"Burn these walls made of body.

Tear down these bars of mind.

Realize

You are Me."

--Seva Murti


Flutterby


Pushing, pushing, expanding.

Into what?

It is comfortable here.

Familiar, familiar, familiar.

Ok…. More effort now a greater push.

Greater Resistance! Oh it strengthens my wings!

I want to admire them.

They will keep me cozy here.

Familiar, familiar, familiar.

Outbreath again, pushing into the darkness.

I do not know what is out there.

But I know, if I stay here.

I will be eaten.

--Seva Murti


Analysis Paralysis


At the end of my wit.

Hours of contemplation.

Precisely calibrated.

Perfectly balanced.

Significant to those insignificant.

 

I am left horrified to find.

This truth was a creation of mind.

In this despair finally,

I am given something real.

--Seva Murti


Science


Nothing has been discovered, nothing found out.

No real truth here.

Just a long story,

Constantly changing with the flow of time

Consistent all the way through.

But for those who read the footnotes.

They know.

The mind's comfort.

Is the soul's bondage.

--Seva Murti


The one who pays attention


Scan every smile

And look

Deeply

LOOK

 

Become an expert,

At finding hidden pain.

Dare not address it.

Pain's defense is clever,

It becomes the being.

And becomes the Being.

 

The tower of science

Rests on a sinkhole filled with exceptions.

Those who fill,

Are afraid.

So terribly afraid of what they will look like

without their tassels.

 

What matters stays dark.

Men of knowledge tighten screws

Of broken machines

That will later

Grind their bones.

 

Understand,

Clearly notice,

There is no truth here,

And thus be Free.

--Seva Murti


The words of Hafiz


Flecks of light whizzing,

Abound my periphery

A splotch of purple

Just barely

Delights the subtle vision

 

They dance and tease

I have learned their game.

I know what will happens when I look

So I fall inward

Into that soft sweet expansion

Everything I do rendered irrelevant

Such beauty in this desolation

No care,

No thought,

Just that silent deafening

Pulse

Pulse

Pulse

--Seva Murti

 

Babes in Toyland

The infinite indivisible made visible.

She's undulating.

A primal urge, "Create beauty."

Lover, artist, scientist.

All driven just to know This.

Building imaginary walls for her playpen,

She carefully gives each newborn a toy.

Beautiful, unique, the void becomes magical land.

"Look!" says one child.

He waves his wand.

Dazzling nebulae of florescent rainbows emerge reaching every corner of the nursery.

Their eyes content.

Their vision crowded.

Another child, "Oh ya? Listen"

He blows through his flute.

The music of one hundred thousand angles professing their love for each other.

Their ears pleased.

Their hearing deafened.

In excitement another child grabs his toy tightly,

Revealing hidden thorns.

"Ouch"

Curious, he inspects it while others play.

Hidden markings on it say,

"Where did this come from?"

¾Seva Murti

Sweetest of the Sweet!

My Sweetest Love, I will write Inner Simran for Thee until…

til my fingers flesh is sore and worn,

til the desires of my heart melt and fall away.

til the emergence of spirit and true love is born,

til the dark night no longer shadows the day.

My Sweetest Love, I will write Inner Simran for Thee until…

til there are no more beats required of my heart,

til in this selfish state, my ego, no longer walks proud,

til all evil thoughts, greed and lust depart,

til the rain no longer fills the cloud.

My Sweetest Love, I will write Simran for Thee until…

til there are no more words in my mouth left to speak,

til all hunger and thirst completely dissolve,

til my attachment to this false self is sufficiently weak,

til my effort to love Thee has from childhood evolved.

and,

My Sweetest Love, One so gentle and so fair,

You have granted me that which no one else ever could,

You have continuously lifted me from pain and despair,

Loved me unconditionally, as none other would.

So, My Dearest Love, for Thee I will forever write,

giving attention to You however possible, however small,

with every passing moment I can, ever watching for the light,

Rising with intensity to grow, following each and every fall.

In this Wineshop of Yours, My Love, is the Sweetest of the Sweet,

I’ve vowed to remain a Drunkard, until the Day We Meet!

¾Gurumukhaji

Can You Tell Me?

Can You tell me who is this that continues to write these verses about love?

I have found that it is not I.

Can You tell me from what are these feelings spoken of?

They bring rivers of tears to these eyes.

So long have this fool, believed it is she,

Expressing a “love” sincerely and deep,

Whose hand is it that writes this poetry for Thee,

Dear and Compassionate One, please won’t You give me a peep?

Can You tell me, who is the imposter and who is real?

It seems that this heart is consumed and can’t break the spell,

So much Joy to contain, so much Pain to reveal,

Solve for this beggar the mystery, the truth to her please tell.

Last night I met a stranger, she too dwells in this house,

Briefly for a moment, our hearts intertwined,

We both inquired to You what is this treasures cost?

Then You Simply Smiled and poured us both some wine.

My Lord, My Lover, won’t for me You please reveal,

What is this strange and unusual occurrence between us two,

There are thieves and bandits lurking awaiting My Love, to steal,

Those priceless jewels within, addressed only to You!

So Now Please,

Can You Tell?

Shhhhh!

I might Explode. . .

The Mountain

Mighty and magnificent

Visible throughout the Universe

From peak to base

Is carved a face

The face of God

The firmament it's hair

The clouds it's eyebrows

Sheer cliffs it's cheeks

Entire countries would be inhaled into the caverns of its nostrils

without a trace

Its mouth able to disappear a galaxy with a halfhearted puff

The world sinks from view

I am alone with the mountain

The seer sees a distant solitary shadow

A speck

Myself

Prostrated hard

Arms outstretched

Face pressed down into the dirt

Pebbles penetrate the skin

Eyes squeezed tight

Nose flattened

Mouth's corners gasping at dust filled air

I am frozen

Thunderstruck

Afraid to move

Filled with awe

Quivering with respect

Gratitude overflowing

I owe everything to the mountain

Please it

Please it

Please it

Lest I remain forever buried in this tomb.

Animated statue of lead

May the voltage of its electric light

well up inside and power my every thought, word and deed

in accord with its divine command

Bestower of salvation

Of infinity

Please it.

My Ishta Devata

This mountain

¾Devataji

Love?

What is this love?

Did I ever really know?

Only a reflection

Of egoic fancy

An occasional burst

Born of need and thirst

But always fleeting

Can love be grown?

Appreciation sown?

Gratitude splashing all over?

A mother's love it's true

Must be closest to You

But it only makes me wonder

The love of which I speak

Starts off quiet and meek

So we don't seem to notice its sprouting

The kind of love You give

So that we may love

Redeeming

Earth shattering

Ignorance smashing

Not fairy tale love

Love that whispers of unimaginable heights

And which must be returned to be reached

Not the gentle love of Jesus

Second stage love

Old Testament love

Put your son on an altar and pierce his heart with a steel blade, love

Gangsta love

Give the Lord what he requires and ye shall BE love, love

This love is not free

For free love go back to your ignorance

This love is earned

Earned by love. Your love. My love.

By gleefully surrendering everything you believe yourself to be, love

Standing naked before God with nothing, love

Not one desire

Not one craving

Mind pure

Utterly, completely, joyously devoted

To Him.

Birthright earned

Gates thrown wide

Only then you will know love

Only then you will realize love

Only then will love's dazzling brilliance shoot from your fingertips, eyes, toes, mouth and hair

Then you will be love

¾Devataji

The Sixth Kosha

Around my heart

Is a prison built of stone and steel

Dank and dark

Where sunlight is only a faint memory

Deep with this prison

I sit

And wait

The world only in my dreams

How I long to hold the gaze of another

Unblinking

Without temerity

Steeped in our connection that we are one

I hear a faint echo

The cavernous reverb of a mighty hammer

Pounding the far away gates of my heart

Boom.....boom

I leap around my cell

A barefoot flurry of hair and rags and dust

My fists pump the air

I am exultant

It has been so long

For I know now that my wait will be over soon

The battle is underway

The Bastille has been stormed

¾Devataji

Because it was asked

Black sea.

Infinite.

Velvet.

Perfect.

Pure potentia.

Not even begun, but may.

A proposition.

Arise?

So it begins.

Once possible,

Now already the case.

And thus it was, and always will be.

All fairy tales need a timeline.

How else would a ghost know

It never existed?

The snowflake is its crystal.

So an atom, so the solar system.

The mind, the cosmos.

The leaf is the same as its branch,

The same as the tree,

The same as the forest.

Do you get it yet?

But here I am another ghost telling ghost stories.

¾Seva Murti

Delicious chai.

Tits and ass.

Wait till you see what I can do!

I'm sorry, I was listening to you?

Shit I figured that out months ago.

I'm so powerful.

How much do I have?

I want fucking more.

Just a little more.

Almost there.

I lied.

A little more….

A little more…

Wait!

Here I am.

Here I am.

…Here I am.

What was I doing?

Ooooh.

I see.

Soft and swift,

She expands.

That horrible hoard of thoughts,

Dissolving.

Now I am a wave of thousands.

My limbs playing the rhythm,

Of my heart conductor.

A man passes by.

He sees the my eyes drowning in their own sweetness.

"You wanna get more high?"

Now this reverie has lost me.

I can't finish!

Just sip on my own being.

And sadly I will go back to grasp,

Beautiful,

Tantalizing,

Mezmorizing,

Burning Coals.

¾Seva Murti

Delicious Chai

Delicious chai.

Tits and ass.

Wait till you see what I can do!

I'm sorry, I was listening to you?

Shit I figured that out months ago.

I'm so powerful.

How much do I have?

I want fucking more.

Just a little more.

Almost there.

I lied.

A little more….

A little more…

Wait!

¾Seva Murti

“Freedom” What is it really?
my Master said to me:

“the True War has not begun….”

I am presently, a private first class disciple, in this War on Ego.

However, upon ‘promotion’ to gunnery sergeant, I gallantly, mounted for battle.

Placing this newly conditioned physical body in position as my fortress in the North,

I then geometrically place my emotions & feelings charged with electrifying Devotion to the West,

My investigation into this kinda War, revealed I must go way ‘beyond’ my current Best.

Soldiers of keen knowledge, formed an iron wall to the South,

With orders to await my signal, before the “lynch men mount.”

I strategically assembled my unrelenting Heart, which would attack from the East,

For truly I had discovered, the fierceness of this Beast.

While awaiting a brilliantly lit Sun, to reveal all that would be encountered, as this battle begun.

I sat with much anticipation, fell asleep & dreamt of ‘emancipation’.

I saw a vision of a cloudy sky, and with my breath, I gently blew, a soft breeze of soothing air, to crystallize my view.

Not far in the distance I could see the wondrous & brilliant moon, chanting a beautiful melody, “It will all be over soon.”

Merrily I began to swirl, dancing as the music played, and as I slowed to a halt my spin, into a bed of flowers I laid.

Then, the Trumpet Sounded, the time of War is here!

And onward I marched with my shield of faith, absent was doubt & fear.

As my “soldiers” and “I” engaged, the enemies we were intent to slay,

We were all struck down in an instance, before the Dawn of Day!

Silence! Silence! Silence!

¾Gurumukhaji

I had to ask of Master

To receive my daily bread

Can I find love in suffering?

Yes, so it was said

Can I find love in poverty?

Yes, so it was said

Can I find love in killing?

Yes, so it was said

Can I find love in famine? Plague?

Rampant war? Bloodshed?

Can I find love in evil men who lie in burning beds?

Can I find love in drought? Disease? Destruction?

Chopped off heads?

How can I find this love you speak?

What’s asking, is what was said?

He said to simply look within

All else, just pay no mind

The kingdom of God is right within

Love is always, all the time

¾Abhyasi

The World That I Created

The world that I created

Is on fire

And it’s a liar

It loves to smoke itself

Get high on itself

Yet feel the burn

Of discontent for

Every dead desire.

Smell its stench

Suffocating the soul.

Master says

Jump into my fire

Where the air is fresh.

Are you scared

He will drop you

In mid-air?

Are you afraid

This false protection

Begging for attention

Is your only savior?

Is it your “only” something?

Or is it nothing?

Trade it for a Real Intention.

You have another dimension.

What is your new Address?

Leave the fire of the liar.

Jump to the Truth

Conquest.

viveka

Longing

For years I’ve longed for you

Going through the motions, the daily grind

Performing acts, which in retrospect…mean nothing

Futile attempts with fleeting rewards

Adorning this body with garbs, trinkets and tassels

Seeking false titles, hollow status, feckless esteem

Just to be perceived by those eyes…those ‘others’ eyes

As revered…as worthy…to validate my own blindness

Oh precious relics of my own despair,

How I long to shed these trappings

These beautiful, intricate veils of duplicity I call home

And yet, a loud silence, a rhythmic stillness within

Beckons a return from this home

Away from nowhere, back to nothing, to remember these roots

O beauty, despite the passage of space and time

For this moment, I shall long no more

¾Abhyasi

The Mat

Seeds be sown

Watered and grown

Reaping the divine

Magnanimous throne

Mantra manifest

Silent and still

Disciplined, deliberate

Exercise will

Meditate…live it up

Worldly thoughts…give it up

Silly thoughts…interrupt

Hold your pose…don’t get up

Get off track…bring it back

Between the brows...is where it’s at

Fleeting thoughts…don’t interact

Just let em’ go…no need to act

Only fools miss the mat

Maya called, don’t call her back

Don’t call her back

Maya calls, don’t call her back

For the time put down the phone

Simran…Bhajan…take me home

Take me home…

Simran…Bhajan…take me home

Happiness is not a task

Already there, I’m free at last…

Free at last

Always there, I’m free at last…

Guru say, disciple do

Disciple don’t, disciple through

¾Abhyasi

No Where To Go

The world I thought was true

Bit by bit

Crumbles around me

Is this my son?

Is anything mine?

It's a dream I'm told

Notice it

But in my sleep even bad dreams

are somehow good

Not here

I just want to sleep

Sleep

Surrender

And bring sleep to the light of day


¾Devataji

Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

Else why would they come?

A cosmic superbowl?

A scoreboard spanning the Heavens?

Gurus 10

Earth 6 billion

Why do I deserve such Grace?

Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

There can be no other Why

Plucking us one by one

from this firmament

Pointing a thousand thirsty horses

toward some cool distant pond

Then watching as they all sprint the wrong way

Revved down in moments

By the berries along their path

Again

And again

And again

Methinks this must be sport for Gurus

There can be no other Why

Toiling tirelessly for Love's expression

As if time had no meaning

Never a complaint

Never a judgement

Patience immeasurable

Methinks this must be Love for Gurus

There can be no other why


¾Devataji

Oh Wonderer!

Oh Wonderer, in your travels you have
eheld many things:

The sun, stars, moon, rivers, oceans, mountains,
hilltops, trees, valleys, newborn babies,
elderly men, women, families,
rainy days, cold days and the list
could go on and on;

Yet when your Eyes beheld the Guru
for the first time you realized
that you have “seen” Love.

Then,

Oh Wonderer, on your life journey:

You heard the thunder, you listened
to melodies, you embellished the
voices of friends, siblings,
many many times you encountered
birds chirping the breezy wind
on your body, then, when for the
first time the Guru spoke to you,
you realized you had “heard” Love.

For years now, oh wonderer you’ve
held the hands of friends & family. 
You’ve been kissed by loved ones,
you’ve embraced the warmth
of a summer breeze, you’ve smiled
when enwrapped in the
waters of the ocean blue,

and it is only now, dear one,
when held in the arms of the
Guru, you realize, you have “felt” Love.

Oh Sweet Wonderer,

You have read many writings,
you have even rendered your own. 
You have been once struck &
danced in a tranquility unexplained,

And now, oh wonderer,
what delight as once whispered
by the Guru, you own sweet name,

You can sweetly, exclaim: 
You have “tasted” Love!

Drink oh wonderer,
drink until you have been
consumed by this Love!

¾Gurumukhaji

The Spiritual Goal & the Spiritual Gift

Infinity, ah hah,
that shall be ‘my’ goal,

“I” will not suffer,
“I” will not grow old.

Bliss, ummmmm, how,
Delightful its Sound,

“I” shall be set free;
“I” no longer will be bound!

Many, many years,
in pursuit of this “Goal,”

Ups & Downs most surely
taking its toll.

I truly examined
this Goal of ‘Mine’

So, let me now share
what it is that I find.

Setting the Goal was for
this ‘conditional’ “I,”

That ‘self’ which surely
one day must die!

Discipline, sacrifice,
etiquette and such,

All belong to the realm,
of hearing, sight, taste & of course touch.

Then, where “I” ask will the
Path lead me to?

What makes my Spiritual Practice,
so difficult to do?

I’m committed to succeeding,
no matter what the cost,

Determined to reach my Goal,
no matter what the loss!

Then, Ahhh to my delight,
“I” realized,

The Goal that I set,
was not the Prize.

What I pursue, already
is close & most dear,

What I was trying to achieve
is already Here!

I took a look ‘Inside’
and what I found,

Is that it is the very pursuit
that keeps chained & bound.

The very Eyes, I often
look intently into,

Is none other than the Gift,
that is You!

All that I need
has been here always,

All that I desire,
is already the case.

So what is it that
I must lift?

Is only my arms

& Embrace this Precious Gift!

¾Gurumukhaji

As I take hold of Moments Passing

In a seemingly subtle agony, I sit in utter despair, and I “long”
for You to grant me “longing,”, in which I would never
forget Your glazing stare, ever remembering my many
burdens that You bear.

Oh’ Dear Sweet Master, still yet a child, I:

The slightest speckle of “love” and I run to check its
realness with You, as a little girl would get from her dad,
feelings as it is a ton of diamonds, taking my sight away,
and find that once again I’ve only come perhaps a little
closer to not wondering far way.

Just a trickle of Your vibration and I am sure,
“I’ve made it there,” not ever seeing Your true abode,
nor having ever paid the fare,  It only seems that I’ve
done a lot of walking, and really, I have gone nowhere.

Master, with just a “whee” bit of even un-concentrated
attention, I experience such joy, I feel that there is no
time to waste, I must call or write to you with all
urgency and haste.

I beg, to learn how to beg, I pray, to learn how to pray,
I look, simply to learn how to look.  I read to find
solace in the book, from “Real Lovers” since gone by;
and now sensing and feeling, my “lack”,
a river of tears fill each eye.

You ask me do I understand, and my reply is sometimes
“yes” I do, but honestly My Dear Lord, I don’t
believe this is true.  For what really is “understanding”
when I am so far away from You, unable to even
embrace cure, that will heal my Oh! so sick “point of view!”

It seems that at times, I simply have learned to settle
for the “tid bits” and “crumbs,” a scent of You now and
then, a flash of musical ecstasy, from the
memories “of when!”

So Master, won’t you please grant just one wish of this
sinner, that she may come to know?  That this journey
she will travel so very, very long, is merely just a great
mirage, for there is nowhere to go!

She is already in that place she seeks, already there indeed,
already with her Lord, who has fulfilled her every need!

¾Gurumukhaji

I asked the Master

I asked the Master,

What holds me back.

He said,

You want to do this

Your own

Fucking

Way.

¾Seva Murti

I asked God Simply

I asked God simply,

"What must I do to know you?

Who's book should I read?

Who's path should I follow?

How many prayers?

How many mantras?

Tell me… what must I do?"


He answered,

"Burn these walls made of body.

Tear down these bars of mind.

Realize

You are Me."

¾Seva Murti

Flutterby

Pushing, pushing, expanding.

Into what?

It is comfortable here.

Familiar, familiar, familiar.

Ok…. More effort now a greater push.

Greater Resistance! Oh it strengthens my wings!

I want to admire them.

They will keep me cozy here.

Familiar, familiar, familiar.

Outbreath again, pushing into the darkness.

I do not know what is out there.

But I know, if I stay here.

I will be eaten.

¾Seva Murti

Analysis Paralysis

At the end of my wit.

Hours of contemplation.

Precisely calibrated.

Perfectly balanced.

Significant to those insignificant.

I am left horrified to find.

This truth was a creation of mind.

In this despair finally,

I am given something real.

¾Seva Murti

Science

Nothing has been discovered, nothing found out.

No real truth here.

Just a long story,

Constantly changing with the flow of time

Consistent all the way through.

But for those who read the footnotes.

They know.

The mind's comfort.

Is the soul's bondage.

¾Seva Murti

Desire

That tinge of want,

Forever yearning.

The ocean of mind.

In stillness arises movement,

The movement gains impetus.

The ripple builds a wave.

The wave is too mighty,

It cannot stop now.

It crashes into the cliff.

They dance.

Pulsing, smashing, caressing,

A moments release

Until…

She is so clandestine,

Always on the move,

Always moving.

Salmon swim upstream,

Resisting the current.

If only surrendered to,

They would wash to the ocean.

Forever at peace.

Instead,

At their candles end,

Burning with desire,

They exert themselves to their death.

¾Seva Murti

The one who pays attention

Scan every smile

And look

Deeply

LOOK

Become an expert,

At finding hidden pain.

Dare not address it.

Pain's defense is clever,

It becomes the being.

And becomes the Being.

The tower of science

Rests on a sinkhole filled with exceptions.

Those who fill,

Are afraid.

So terribly afraid of what they will look like

without their tassels.

What matters stays dark.

Men of knowledge tighten screws

Of broken machines

That will later

Grind their bones.

Understand,

Clearly notice,

There is no truth here,

And thus be Free.

¾Seva Murti

The words of Hafiz

Flecks of light whizzing,

Abound my periphery

A splotch of purple

Just barely

Delights the subtle vision

They dance and tease

I have learned their game.

I know what will happens when I look

So I fall inward

Into that soft sweet expansion

Everything I do rendered irrelevant

Such beauty in this desolation

No care,

No thought,

Just that silent deafening

Pulse

Pulse

Pulse

Seva Murti

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