More than Words !

He quits smiles, along with his own sadness, Praises of slow silent death of pneumonia fever, His words meant nothing as they want to hear, No one could see this man of magical madness !

She was forever a botanist,  a single flower in the stone, enchanted enriching her smile,  rising along the cosmic ripple,  moon-birds, to raining clouds,  ends up in the rainbow songs,  ascending above anything seen,  she sings as the spring waves,  rejuvenating all that is of life,  beauty projection of nymphs, moon-struck her mirror self,  her hair curves ways to paradise,  penguins humming of bright sky,  she's a botanist of my heart !

digging those roots of individuality, these dwellers constructed of flesh, what causes complications to upturn, passing unto self's to playing beings, existing upon particles up-to humanity, nothing but a inside of that outside, building pyramids to perpetual lines, results expressed in tangling discord, approaching to comprehension source, answer's are mere speculation drawn, with no penetration to that acceptance, wrong estimations to rightful conducts, unreasonable vitality of this individual, from mouth to anus, connecting paths, thoughts goes from sex to serenity, uniquely evolving within and expanding !

what is not ridiculous about systems, having all non-comprehensible distinction, ideologies capturing the free moving life, "you are this fucking that", makes no sense, what road will you lay upon the pointless, existence in brackets are for retarded, are you that retarded one? slavery they say ended long over time, but I see slaves everywhere, not that they lack beauty, but unaware- of the life being so vivid, so orgasmic, I see slaves of televisions, of cigarettes, I see slaves of worktime, of religions, I even see slaves of attractions and love, and what not? Slavery still exists ! So- what will I call these beautiful retards ?

ways to say the way it needs to be said, dictionaries inside one's heads combining, with another dictionary; forming conversation, how weird is this act of us talking around, acoustic medium of waves forming thoughts, pressurizing enough to make one fall in love, cerebral cortex going wilder with every impulse, telepathic informality disguised as languages, who's primitive to sing life into existence birds, independent act of varied description points, deeper beyond nature; un-existing individuality, paradigmatic views leading unto non locality, meanwhile, matter broke into touches infinity !

'transcending ego',   the trance that's ending this ego,  this poor little stranger called self,  "cheer up",  it says to the stillness,  run after tailor's  who made worlds,  this computer work you, reality extracted into  floating infinity,  evolution inside  isolated boundaries,  keeping up the  dissolved doorways,  awareness as  misinterpreted shadow, efficiently crawling  into the system-less,  primary qualities;  secondary taxonomy,  melancholia to  volumes of schizophrenia,  reclaiming sanity  natures confusion,  so, its you,  except that life wraps itself !

Nepal interludes in-between the secrets,  what you know of this land is delusions,  the mandala pointing toward the novelty,  shambhala slowly fading into time twists,  smiling Himalaya misleading solitary steps,  Shiva, the ultimate hippie who ever danced, the hashes smell all over the temple floors,  stargazing needs heart eyes of ayahuasca,  in-between sadhu's are the hidden feats,  Annapurna linked down invisible landscape,  dancing giant's stirred along pretensions,  the air cover's up the atmosphere to space,  this land know's more than all civilizations,  enriching solar solstices to lunar singularity,  expedition to the exploration of lost horizon !

Someone comes by to this unknown man, and asks, why are you here from so long? isn't it time to walk by to the side-less, is it the addiction, or attachment, you fear; or is it death you don't want to face ! His eyes, touches you beyond spaces, this unknown man just sits there: all silent, and his light collects the world around his feet ! I ask, "aren't you even moving an inch for yourself" he replies, not even a sigh, only emptiness, only emptiness ! 'Chaitanya' Speaks, there's no dark in the darkest of darkness, this wounded words heals frightened souls, forgive whatever it was that made the offers of karma twinning around the incarnations ! The 'SELF' finally speaks in a very deep voice, is it you or is it me the one who is waiting? everything collapses, root vanishes, Nirvana !

outstretched hand pointing toward the imagination, syntax of the meanings for exploring the blinds, electrode breaking its way pass to vortex of mind, revise the mockery of written treaties of evolution, light escapes reality as thought escapes the ideas, simplifications of laws of the present now and here, dimensions evoking alchemy of behavior archetypes, toxic deserts of fantasy leading unto isolated ridicule, hyperspace of echo of being paying the value chain, describe me the lost phase of time before those bangs, penetration of the machines downloading divine hymns, of faces having scars of bullets from cosmic alienation, technology printing languages spoken in codes as trips, composites of the compounds making forms to form, hold it inside the faces loosened from point of jumping !

in someway patterns are links, filling blanks of a cliff quarks, mathematics is round bald head, hairs grows in numbers infinity, not much of an alter state serenity, funny ideas generating inspections, hallucination is giggly lemon fences, neurological chaos into entrails, essential paintings to war machine, coherent objectivity of the senses, real stuff is like real life umbrella, time evolves into makeup illusions, closed door denuded in wretches, the inbound outsider of existence catalyst seeing unspeakable pelvis, simplification of lie's are censors, conventional impulses to realization !

Dear Caroline, I have not found the shade, your name never appeared, marble floor denied my steps, into the tree's were heartbeats, every birth an end to infinity, crystal's stored steps on hopes, river flowing flaunts your songs, her sister was never a knight, this game-plan is just a fortress, god comes and leaves daughters, luminous raining into your secrets, amnesia crawling into pipe lines, ocean's ended into single drop, summer lions drank your dreams, corridors became her own house, everything else was pickup trains, the shade was found then un'found, Love Caroline !

my delusions,stays upon lights, which lets me prevail in thoughts, this one's my labyrinth, this is home, which stays beneath these legs, where-ever they go, it stays along, two steps, which rounds entire earth, mind flips to mindlessness to rise, carried away inside lost thought lines, spaghetti tastes just like it needs to, shameless her window returns home, candles beyond oblivion, its genesis; skin me into something deeper a body, I touch, I see, I feel, into heartbeats, legion resurrected in names and boxes, ego screaming into vague successions, prayer's reach within within prayer's, motionless, yet moving in dances, farther it gets me, the closer it stays, epicenter of a shake that bake's life !

I have always been in love,  with shadows of thy soul, the heart that shadows mind,  mind that shadows the body,  body that shadows the shadows ! I have many shadows that owns,  this me, as which I call myself,  it revolves around more shadows,  shadows of this mind to that heart,  even kingdoms and stellar slots ! This one specially,  is the endless tales,  happiness in grieve,  and forever more !

"A crow branches the woods,  on winter, summer, spring and autumn,  of which love verses god !"

likely said, time never returns; then again, the sky with strikes, jumped into rainfall, said; for time to return, be lost in time-turn, so wise that it would, not 'return' to make it, absolutely nonreturnable : nothing happens into time, it flows as wings that drum's, which beats life into freedom, shallowness is all it needs, for; astronauts to fall as snow flakes, then probably, time never existed !

She rolled around me, melodious life's recipe, like a compass, she north's, and I south, halving around, she transforms my soul into kisses, I dive into her paperness, empty, just empty~paperness; happiness is a word, so I wont word it love, I'll just let her sleep, inside me to outside her, all atmosphere parachutes, emptiness into wind note, playing every chimes there is, sailing down the waiting line, She'll blindfold my foolish dreams, so the story goes like this; we met and melted, story began when it ended, ended where it began, just like the rain and clouds, paper-cut pains the most, love heals it all with a touch, so the next line is empty, EMPTY !

he has a horn in his head, big and stretched which was once slayed by the one blessed; night cries of the songs of death as threats, of the Saturn son of death and depressed; thee decree of incited blood of virgin infest, lord who deceived of dead light outstretched; in the ninth circle's of hell resides the serpent, fear the king of kings, or else thou shall repent; the morning star has fallen down, to architect, blasphemy, the humanity was forever cursed- from sins of jealousy and pride well dispersed; affixed the souls who promised of freedom, headfirst despair, the dragon returns from hell, warned: foe shall inflame from sufferings knell; toward Eden once where glory was betrothed, slumbered memoir, burthensome betrayal and foul !

a static layer  of the kinetic dot, he is the oracle  of light in frames, or is he the emissary  of darkness, either way it leads  to absurd plots, I am no Diophantus  to figure out slots, finding positive rational  of coefficient, these approximates  are almost dead, quantities and structure  are no good, is destiny just some  irrational word, for life is the  only true fascination, is there anything;  logical and articulate, minds, moderation  with heart's fanaticism, garden of seedless flowers  of skepticism !

this man dies saving circles,  kings betroth him perversion,  sick'man, knuckle alertness,  my beloved Archimedes died,  his traces lost in slavery of time.  get my head out of these chime,  Moses, exhaust to the sublime,  invent me some question divine,  silent, what was there in mt.Sinai !     bloodlines writes history of man,  exodus, these pages are empty,  burning bush, run to unknown sun,  eqi-distant return my burnt hand,  excuses, archaeology of the mind,  so this man saves a ending circle, the 'PI' is born out fraternal womb,  or was it a mother engraved riddle, take me along down the slippy road  ! compassion, is internal violence,  corridors beneath the mind of devil,  encoded in yours mind inside mine,  to read words in an empty paper,  so cleanse my soul with your blood,  I sit by you slayed down in the cross,  a flat circle wonder of faith and trust,  suffering is the root of life and lust,  dear, Maya,

Blood and struggle spread all over the Athenian floor,  this was once a school; worlds best library, well known the place where minds of all generations set to explore, with in the walls were structures of all knowledge intone,  the zeal of people with christian doctrines were to kill her, Hypatia, the brilliant soul that roared momentum of science, she journeyed stars every night and wrote life in scrolls,  the pathetic scattered fragments of religion set on patrols,  to kill her;  sinner who went to question them of dead stones,  any individual, of any age counts less to her passion shore,  She wrote the last verse of this school, the mother of chore,  Hypatia, her silence could speak of thousand billion words,  in time where women's were enslaved, she broke rules,  walked among-st men, touched ground to sky voyeur,  her beauty sparked the light of dead philosophy of men,  only female to eternally revive the wisdom was in condemn ! Conflict,

Rousseau, waked up in the late of night, sweating with fear of his long lost pride, dear shadow, let go of my beloved plight; romanticism; thee escape this watch tower get lost from here, come back after shower, your presence smells of foul guilt of ugly power, "she said, nobility is a rare-most fortune, he exclaimed, God made me and broke the mold, he stabbed her , lamented her body with revolt, die, die die, die you bitch, you worth the allegations, Picasso, rest his brush, colors, its a sensation !

When you see what do you see ? My Face, where is it ? I lost it ! The mirror reflects of a man, I know not ! Am I Van Gogh, Or Poe, how do I know ! My dreams are covered in blood, no soul, lustful methods painting the thoughts so cruel, Am I Shakespeare residing in dickens jewel, I am a whore, sold in roars of art, so tribunal ! Once Thou, sold my body to the merchant in rubles, Call my name, O! Lord!, let my soul not rot, draw my essence in your presence, I wont dodge, lines, set in parts, cut in half, ordinary suck hole, I am a mole, just a hole, bedroll, out of control, murky my thought roams in valley of death trolls, Kill me, crucify this gust, O! Devil color thee horror ! My flesh, is fueled in fagots, worms, and wool's, dark room, shaded in distrust, dead flowing waterfall, I take my eyes out, face full of blood, and eat this foul, my skin is in misfit, hallucinations, madness, imag'nation ! Under the trees of dead birds,

Humans have always been inclined toward the pathology of ideas, and thoughts. That's what makes us, different from the rest of animal kingdom, capable of processing thoughts and creating formulation of ideas. Like a book is related to the reader, for his functions of mind to understand the certain frames of idea, to incline his thought process. On the other hand, Reader is related to the writer. The writer has the ideas, because there is someone on the other-side who is thinking about it. Nature works of this progression. And we need a very wise and holistic view to see all this natural geometry. So blaming a set of humans for being unnatural is irrelevant, because its what the nature is moving forth. But the problem arises when we look clearly into the field of personal dynamics of mind and its conversation and contextualizing to the whole world. We are singular consciousness living in a collective conscious web. So, natural, actually is a collective choices, of some stron

In a glimpse of moment one lives a lifetime, and this particular instance of life is what we generally tag, as a spiritual moment. What we overlook to see, is that moments are just the thread of an ongoing moment to the next ongoing moment, so its all in all, a singular moment in a plural sense. So, life as a whole, is a spiritual experience. Its unusual for a seeker to dive somewhere in pacific and search for the peak of Everest. Yet, its the same land formation, that makes both of them alive metaphysically. So being in Antarctica, is also being in Sahara, in a longer thread of physical momentum. And when this feeling as an experience is in touch with the physical identity of man, then he becomes a mystic, A Buddha. Then, What is meditation ? The definition says, that its the journey from self to self. Science says its non dual-ness of the universe. And vaguely we all realize that its true, I am more than this body, yet I cant clearly classify what more. So meditation, in

Inside the contention of my minds axiom.  Life is an ongoing dance of blank composition.  Where the bones sings the forms of calcium .  Dancing is not a spot arriving on some positions.  Its letting go of mind schooled for lengthy years.  As creative graded world with fierce oppositions.  I am the dead child who after a while reappears  From a long thread of categorized miracles  Of dead lovers who died for civilized interferes,  Religions working with fragmented wickedness;  My being evokes life's fundamental halcyon  Where the essence of existence is its vividness Whereby life doesn't have any bipolar idioms.  Its all the wholeness rejuvenating in disequilibrium. 

  The sideways talk to me, Asks me who I am, for him; Whats inside thou to see Bitter truths hidden in sea, Where 'lies' smells of sins. Where this road leads and ends; My, thoughts will explore for hope, That will try to bend- Those lustful kisses making me transcend, Where her eyes melts like infrared, Lights on the stars long dead , This being runs to escape. Her spells don't allow me to fly , My cheeks are still in delight, Of her love poured like rhymes, Like the singing chimes that satisfy, My ears like kisses that mystify , My soul poured into her sight, "I disguise like her fireflies!" Like poets who love their creation, She loves me as her's, Someone, born out of her aviation, Heart's melting down her formation, A lover is intoxicating liquor, "

Inside this tantrums that my mind offers, It plays of thoughts that only dwells; Of all those eternal memories where self suffers Humans have always been hunted by the authors, Who wrote of self's who pretends to be unwell Inside this tantrums that my mind offers. Those cherished men who tag them explorers, Make a dead god in pictures for us to impel, Of all those eternal memories where self suffers Yet, this branch of bureaucracy as impostors , Always find ways to bid the rebels farewell , Inside this tantrums that my mind offers.     Even in this cartels we seek for free boarders, Where a blind soul can move in for life to heal, Of all those eternal memories where self suffers. In this turmoil sun still shines as a reformer, Makes life flower even in this modes of hell. Inside this tantrums that my mind offers. Of all those eternal memories where self suffers.

My minds climbs over the eternal pages Where I think into the winds of the self solution, May be people don't find this advantageous,  Where some would surely call me a idiotic person. As seekers are always the darker side of society. The looser as they call for their vibrancy -- But the struggling minds last no longer a night, The youth dies in the hands of the fright. And the days of death as known they turn: Pages to find the eternal days in the heaven, And in a flash of realization, it comes to mind: You Failed in this grand game ! But don't worry child, you have failed in frames , Someday as you grow again, You will be awake,  So here you go again with all those nonsense !

We need a little disappointment Which grows as a deep hope, keeping up with the life's rope, Everyone is in this long voyage. And at times life kicks hard A hungry stomach reminds you, Make it to the shore even in queue, And when you do, grab it hard . Every peak has its ground, So when you fall just smile: The journey begins in awhile; And the paths is inbound

I grow above sky piercing the clouds of thoughts: Slowly evading all atmosphere around me, whereby I become the part of space time; and look at the butterflies around the green forest, I become the only known astronaut. The skyline approaches my mind where it tumbles: It climbs up the seven level of rainbows, Finding home near the self living volcanoes, with whispers running through the memories, The old self, living new me in puzzles. "So I ask him what does he want from me, Lightning stars of dust or the melodies , The seeker strikes with force all wild? And the mind say's not yet enough, Of these undefined thought in scream? So; lets get back to the beginning of seeds, Where the genetic listing was on leap The silent forte of nature ruling as I sleep, Inside the life making particles of amino acid So am I just proteins making genes.

Life is not out there somewhere to explore, its in us, its us, and we are it, as a vast unity; Quantum physics explains it as non separability, I am as much Himalaya's as, the stars are me, the non polar view of being is the life's variability, non determinism is the luxury of being one yet free, so the functions of "either" "or" is vividly fictional like the cat in the box experiment showing gullibility, where the cat dies and survives in singular frames, like the mount Everest combined with the spaces, the interference of growth is the growth as whole, where we can see the magnificent butterfly effect, where monks making sounds from singing bowls, are the vibrations brought down by African howls, the neurotic non locality that  tickles all our souls, in which the nervous system of my mind-body, heals processes like circuits in artifact of Samadhi !

Life smells of rotten flesh discarded for days; like jasmine flowers left untouched to decay when sounds of Mozart turns heart to maize, cool breezes taking my life in pinch of foreplay. The resurrection of days old bodies of truth her eyes reminds me of life before this disguise: I could write books for her lips that sooth's as if as, the smell of her breast which I strive.  My eyes moves ahead to touch those feet's, afraid of the passe of mind who kills the shine; in Love, fear grounds of ego who lets her fleet, of her murmurers written in winds that shrines. How can the letters explain of these smells the heaviness brought in by her own rage, my words are just a captive of her spells which lets the sky capture mountains in cage.  The act dies the death of beggar who awaits, of candles that would light him up in flames; where the big box is set for his life to elevate her mind, body and spirit snows in his flakes.  Where else would th

The shadow beneath my consciousnesses,  shaking the bowl of mind in sounds of self,  a vague light coming from heart inside shells,  shaded yet seen from the naked life senses,  memories stored in shelves of which glistens,  sunbeams of being crawling through prisms, finger's touching the meaning of life in kisses  suddenly the gates rises up from known riddles,  the root goes beyond those shadows in muffle, slow and subtle decline in thoughts that shuffles,  thrust bring life up toward the meanings muddle,  crawling through stricken gates trying to smuggle,  of this borrowed hunger of slavery in struggle !

Do human need happiness or freedom, in the mechanism of needs and hunger, sexual orgy lured in game of polygamy, or trip on some drugs & chemicals ritually, even to control the ways nature wiggles, babies with no mind, dead and prickles, and the free will is classified savage lies, words dreaming of world beyond ties, in wrath of economic formality implies, the death of million souls in lone spies, what for the regulation in this elevation, expedition for truth of self in derivation, kill the poets, in illustration of the homer, channels of formats leading to sarcoma, what glory does it have in game of poker, a man lost in the boundaries of mediocre!

When the unified field theory was first proposed, everyone laughed to it like a 2*2 multiplication error, but there were the crazy ones, the irrational impeller, who struggled with the universe to know the center, and when Einstein brought in the rear views of stellar, the clowns were knocked down like a lost election, then slowly it moved on to be the greatest direction, versions of the grand model have changed reflection, the view of amusement remains in the same objection,       "THE LIFE AND THE UNIVERSE" a definite solution explaining every details to crucibles, the irrational minds named it as the string theory fusible, and the latest version of it the M-Theory is indisputable, membranes from quarks are musical notes in procession, on a string of vibration beyond the time and space cession, laws of harmony written in the vibrating strings perception, god's equation, that explains absolute life-universe equation, the hyperspace explained in the tu

I wanted to write about how tree's sing,  but all I could think was elevator doors,  how I press a button and it comes there,  it takes me all way up and all way down,  like tree's dancing with the birds & winds, I just love the way it is, trees with wings, sometime, I think my hairs are those leaf's,  they fall too, and winter comes with chills,  and I love to join this dance, to groove in,  I am not far away from my death as escape,  yet, I don't run, knowing my roots are dying, as this me I have been living in, which rings,  this man even sings, this man thinks of things, but, I know that the soil is fertile to grow again,  so I live now, just to live now, it will glean,  and the elevator comes my way like everyday,  I choose where to be, Up or Down, like trees !

The universe chose me to be here,  right now, writing, scrubbing, thinking, of why these chemicals make the body,  this grand intelligent design furnishing,  the forge of dust forming the galaxies,  unstable, then stable, then again unstable,  scattered from something trillion times a pin, and life sprinkled everywhere around me,  how deep my roots goes in the space time,  billions, trillions, just imagine, the whole,  a cosmic perspective of this which is me,  a pilgrim for the consciousness to live,  just look at the immensity of this cosmos,  how deep, how big, how vast across,  from tiny molecules to the flying clouds,  look how fluid life is around and above,  people ask me how to live life happily,  I say, open your eyes ,watch the fluidity !    

dissolve in, the voice said, suddenly I exploded, everywhere,   and nowhere all time frames,  a dream within ! peaceful it gets, NOTHING peaks to speak, solutions are now,  incarnated problems, microscopic threats  to all spaces, the voice comes again,  life gets wet !   

I generally feel happy with thermodynamics, specially its second laws which explains, any given spontaneous process increases, disorder of the universe; turning me insane, this is the most truthful science could ever get, faces of zeroth law explains temperature gates, first one tries existentially in-order to penetrate, heat, and the work, forms as energy sweats, look at the third law, how vaguely it relates, the entropy runs toward a constant state, as the temperature climbs up to zero phase, I love how weirder it gets when life blazes, the quasi-static formation tries to make bases, as universe teases the relationship with spaces !

a glitch in this moment,  a breath in this process,  river flows down to up,  breezing as self lights up,  a channel moving upside,  sacrum starts to stride,  the serpent goes wilder,  the hara rises as gliders,  zoom it goes up in slides,  the phoenix rises in tides,  as it climbs up to the eyes,  cycles captures the ride,  the being ignites allied, ringlets forces itself up,  center's grooves in setup, doors bangs in hollow sky, the sacred eye's outcries, colors and faces apprise,  the huge bang flows by,  thousand petals starts to fly,  the fireflies ignites of life !          

space itself is the force of thy entanglement, entangled time, entangled reality, augmented,  what's space-less, is it self or relative superstition,  graded subliminal 'I' or love in non-segmentation, prints of life as paper greeted aroma of tachyon,  it goes making life fragments of quantum protocol, as channels of communion in imaginary aerospatiale, non dimensional identity peeping as the self recalls !  

part of the humor of life is this stupid feeling,  how absurd the game is, ridiculously rebelling, the busy continuum is the non existent freedom,  and "now" serves with end as 'now' of no reasons ! educated mind search's redemption in collision,  this fractious building friction as self in incision,  more or less, the pin point of thy secret is vision,  where beauty is the samurai sword cutting directions ! feelings expressing felt, in the organic ego shell,  where the doer, who is the done thinks it did not,  a weird illusion captures the ego where it dwells,  secretly the life pulls down the pants, it dispels ! why does the lucidity of life outlines as the existence,  energies told, to see, energy you are energy in distance,  in-between stuck and not-stuck is unstuck in riddles,  behind the thinker is the thought in thinking transitions !