More than Words !

A porcupine entered my being,  Slowly, it moved completely into me.  It pinched my identity  & tore me apart in piece's of space.  I could see colors: blue, then orange, then white. I could see myself, but I had no face.  I was just blur light moving into the cosmos.  I was floating like the colors. Just hovering space.  Suddenly I jump into the abyss of my memories.  I see myself everywhere.  I see myself getting birth again and again.  I see king's and beggar's.  I see myself even in trees and terrains.  And then it becomes blank.  Pitch darkness !  My stomach starts to explode.  I cant feel my legs anymore.  Slowly it moves, into my head.  I cant feel my head anymore.  But I exist. Right here, right now.  I hear sounds, some-sort of chants.  Its gets louder, and louder and louder.  (shuhm om huhsuhm huhsumms om hshuhshuhsushm) It becomes so loud that I can't hear it anymore.  Ecstasy runs down through

Her thoughts- are like the skylines, whom only I can see and her love, is a collision course, which breaks me, into universe  within the universe, then joins me together- into her symphony, only then I get to  glimpse myself for  being myself & know,  Who I really am ! Her love takes down  all my disguise ! Disguise that I used to  take to glorify myself-  as the world & as the ominous me,  who is playing to be  opulence god: so secretive and  so sacred,  yet so spurious &  deceptive ! Her love  enlightened me as the transparent  cosmic consciousness, and I become  the love itself  diving within  the fractions of  my being, and travelling through  the curvature  of time and space I am that which is and that  which can be,  the mother void'ness ! I remember, Archimedes once said, Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth. I finally found my stand  on her

I am a boat,  that sails nowhere,  and she says to me,  'you are beautiful' when you sing,  with your expressions,  like wind chimes,  she says sounds are blind,  so you just smile quietly, and she sings too,  I am her rehearsal songs,  like rhinoceros that can't bend,  when running to catch me,  so its simple for me to say, tell me your name,  I'll give you a hug,  no price tags,  just a warm hug in repay !

Me siento muy feliz  Oh ! I thought so, or did I ? then again I am sad, she said,  'Estoy triste', that's Spanish  he said and smiled,  the blue mountain over sky,  her head was my 'house itch' to eat noodles,  yes, those memories so deep as glue like the ocean that ends into her skin, to choose to be thirsty of idioms,  I was born, you see,  sentences of love so foggy and dry impersonal verb to meaningless subjects I would like a coffee now, with no sugar. Translation of heartbeats is heart that beats  this ends 'exclamation sign!',  & I die. That's it, I die.

A fool in me, once started naming the clouds, trying to understand how things move, blind he was, like the 'me', I was; in strange yet familiar land- he made me acquaintance to the world, a communion, it was of dead abodes. He then started "to comprehend love," still a fool he was,  in his heart. And I moved on in all life's senses, I too died along him in his inferences. The fool vanished then,  in me and in him.  And all I was,  camouflage of emptiness !

Life is undressed by the ashes of wrong hopes,  that thinks of some rabbit hole- Where she goes, to find out that "god is a noun !" And the water pearls undresses, into nudity of the wide ocean floor.  Where the free flows of waves,  wheels the unborn child. And men are the one who are pregnant with pride and ego of self as fetus. In thirst of idiotic hypocrisy  they kill with blind guns,  and the journey ends  into the new beginning and humanity walks again. In Cycle's.  When things go wrong, there's a easy way out. Blame the gods ! Yet, the life shakes life itself at times. A Joshua comes, A Gautama comes.  A Zarathustra walks down the mountain edges, and when Meera dance's Kabira sing's ! But it seems humanity always find's its way to close their eyes. So, Joshua becomes Jesus Christ hanged in a cross in some church halls.  And what's within the walls of the individuals, is left locked

Let me trunk myself into your beauty. Which comes to me as crossword puzzles  & let me solve myself in you. Glide me into yourself as your voice lips to lips- into your space,  Hitchhiker, I am jumping all over to find the roots,  Let me be your servant,  so that I can serve you my dance.  Let me be you,  your sight, your smell, your touch. Let me be you,  your soul, this universe and all universes. This world, then would be a thunder- where I live, as you,  and give birth to myself; as me and as you.  "Love, it evolves like the reflecting moon" where she comes,  and moves the oceans,  and then she leaves,  to come again !

Prodigiously- deceived shore of humanity,  the roaring space sea come let me touch your sensitivity,  let the dance start with curiosity I played all of what is you; body diving through your spirit ! Spirit, in Latin just means breathe, I breathed you all in me. Oh,"how precisely described mythology" all those spellbinding stories & this unknown enriching universe,  of free-throw line that confers !

His movements  were as if a forbidden collision between  age old crisis of blissfulness- growing into sunbeam, that heightened reality and identity & he erupts as a passionate totality in distillation of dead matter dis-associative of awareness: where the fortress, of inevitable logic drops, into horizontal eternity and he becomes- the anonymous man !

More or less,  If I try not to be, I become a process of Metamorphosis in-cubed into behavioral turmoil. For I am a species, pre-written with biological chemicals, that goes on dancing like a mad poet who knows nothing more than to release a virus of unspoken creativity. It's a synced insanity that is modulated into the societal definition of Humanity. And this definition makes an individual, a mathematically used person to fix the gaps between the magnitude of group of other humans, who were also placed accordingly.  So, this human enterprise of Humanity is a lie that describes individuals as a clay pot but not the the mud that it is made from. And the immense curvature of time and space just moves along the pathway of expansion and as it cool's down, it makes life possible, it does the magic beautifully.  And the space expands and evolves. As the low intensity matter converts into helicopters, it starts to bombard the cities it thinks that is not relative to

Change is an existential orchestra,  that the universe plays along-where my Hypothalamus,  metabolizes the body to eat & I sleep  as the cosmos leaps perceiving circulation of coma in time frames  of this hibernation, wherein- neurochemicals divides me,  & I become the beautiful  bio-molecular song of proteins ! 

There are few things,  that have touched me  through the spine- and set fire to whoever this man might be ! Which makes me question everything that it is, That life is known for.  Because the more closely I look at it, the more &  more things get lost.  The more meanings get lost ! The more I move toward it,  the more I vanish into thin air.  I just vanish away. Slowly. Slooowwwly ! But it's so fast that; one cannot capture those  moments into memories. And one just vanishes. The heart is full of fire, ice and air, and love,  and pleasure, and bliss.  But there is no heart at all. And the mind is full of wisdom,  smokes, dust, dirt, feelings, emotions, information, knowledge,  things and wisdom.  But there is no mind.  And that's the miracle of life. 

You see my friend,  You live in a fantasy wonderland that you have created. Now when I say fantasy don't take it as something only with pleasures and happiness, the fantasy land also consists of pain and suffering. That's why you seek, all kind of nonsense to convert those pains and suffering into bliss. The whole problem that you look upon is the problem of not being blissful. The constant longing for sex and love.  Yet, the problem is not there at all. The problem is that what you think is reality, is nothing more than your own fantasy world. Which is created with your own perception. Look around you, Look everywhere, the whole life is created on the basis of your perception.  And if you cant see that, just look at it as the form of your own ego. My house, my family, My religion, My country, all those I, My and Mine. Isn't that your perception.  If someday you suffer from Alzheimer you will forget everything. Then those games of I, my and Mine is

Uranus,  let me be, your ring; ill then cover you up- make you so warm,  that your sideways, are free your days, are long in me; (F)orsanόj (worsanos)- up from Varsha-  you rain my soul, thy soul your chaos,  air's my sun into nebulous beggaring the end; your dips of drops,  wanders into me-  and capsules me in you; wherein, I am the ocean* your celestial ocean !

Skipping beats,  eternize'd I disguise as her prey; disobedient aspiring in her soul,  embracing me,  she says,  "Nunc scio quid sit amor" diving away,  into laser beams,  floating,  like her renewal  as my mirror,  I say,  "Etiam in morte, superest amor" non dimensional,  we become- photons of love proton,  paradoxes jumps back,  scattering,  into thy evaporation; evil-live songs,  thoughts,  beats,  entropy,  equilibrium- so,  paddling- a song,  she convicts me,  of motion,  jumping,  back * forth,  diffusion,  the heat; transfers,  relative confusion,  I ask,  She replies,  she asks,  I reply,  into atmospheric circulations- in her vortex,  that takes me away,  inside time warps,  descending upon,  emptiness,  her Nirvana !

My dear;  said Epicurus- standing in the pillars,  beside- the great city of samos; looking at my eyes,  gazing me in himself,  he said,  the art of living well; and the art of dying well are One.  the Athenian wind,  carried me away into devotion- over virtue- besides 'Sophia' reciprocity follows,  your departure,  into that, which man desires,  pleasures & bliss,  into 'ataraxia' consciousness,  driving itself says,  of dead words; "non sum, non curo" 'I am not, I do not care" but willing he follows,  those caskets,  of just & might,  resonated- into body & mind,  I look into Epicurus,  in silent play,  and say: my dear,  how wrong could you be ?

the dawn of Greece,  was in my Heart,  the day of lost love: I sat by,  those empty roads,  waiting,  just waiting for her,  by then, death mocked me,  into heaviness,  smoke, blood and tears- dogs barking,  to her dead body,  she was once alive,  some licked her, in days,  some ate her, in night my eyes dimming, & with my breath falling it clouded with fear,  rained with blood; my tongues thirsty tasted her blood,  no apologies her bones were left,  along her memories- my legs were decaying,  ants crawling,  and those men in boots,  at times pushing me down,  those empty lane,  where once-  I sat beside her: with her words,  speaking of willing errors- the play had been played,  by then  wisdom divided into infinity,  she just took zero,  and I played her,  impious soul: she left to bring her a moon,  left me with her anatomy,  I solved her love she played along- into my vertebra:

egg the life inside seeds,  where the coffee cup,  lips my lower lip,  flowers, are spaces- holds the upper lip; isometrically moved into life,  yes, the flower of life; depiction of her cube,  archangel of desires,  her enoch rings,  my part of her gypsum,  patterns of non-creation,  mystical scalar plexus,  floating her tripod vision,  Triquetra- my bird; ratching nodes into cubes,  the flower,  is now a tree of my genesis,  her cosmology of my,  trees branching tree's !

This morning- I met Pompeii,  invisible in my silent words firm, sturdy & revolting life,  he was a polar rabbi so lost- or is: my Hebrew as bad as his genesis captured in toledots,  of humanity disguised, he said,  standing erect in his synagogue,  pirates in my photoreceptor cells,  so eyes are his musculus words,  the deep perception of vision,  Judaical Mesopotamian perception,  I am the Bodhisattva explosion,  of her rebellion in my heart !

add some brown sugar to salt, and water to the atmosphere, the geeky talk of life in sphere, you are an un-synced pioneer; peaking up in topics solitaire, humor out scaled yet in interfere, you are called a cynical volunteer, a squared circle of drop devotion; multitasking device of an Irish sun, antarctic seal hung in a nomad stun, a Bengal tiger teared up in overrun, you are an alien in sphere of thumb !

thy refugee the soul into me,  blossomed into senses tree,  springs of love in thy spree,  streams of hidden  kundalini;

letters, stitched to raven's heart; gone for the heights of sky top, some verses erotic, some spotty, some sad, gloomy and just numb,  young, just in her menstrual cycle's,  of mind games, jealousy & hatred; her idea's suffer her ideals cradles,  and teeth's bite jaws like her smiles,  she's a lost soul in a fast lane bus,  her radio signals reaches no hearts,  phoenix; her spirit is her lost door's,  tiny desk with scissors blunt lines,  she cuts her soul into pieces now, she's a mom, a sister, a lover, a friend,  she cuts her soul into pieces now !

Thy smell takes away solemn days, to catch death's leg in thy space ! Stuck now in thy orbit he hovers,  & thy smell plays his spring colors; Thy cheek's is as vermilion flower,  breaths into love bites' thy shower ! He circles thy as the alive titan,  thy ripen soul bursts him to widen- now tighten in him, thy lighten - he enlightens !

The crow sat inside my heart, flying off it reached to my ear, mouth-less, he ate me raw & alive ! I flew then, into her poetry, i know; feathers falling, searching my home away, who am I, the crow asked the poem ! The farmer, cropped me inside seeds, I swam away, in the mud with grasshoppers, and butterflies, ate mushrooms; I grew love ! She screamed, albatross jumping up to upside; the night birds, fragrance of her songs, pull me away, inside her as a crow in heart !