Archive for india

Angrez

I
Blow into my ear Angrez,
Whisper your fears in blue plumes.

Each sound is a place, all is sound sired by
These universal winds.

Does it touch your skin?

From the glow, smoke rises,
From the heart, love escapes.
What pleases such flames?

I’ll take you with me when everything
Is sleeping, leave your legs,
Take those wings.

Leave your body alone and sing your way out
Of the dissonant dream.

Turn this world upside down.
All that sky, in blue eyes.

II
Discard your clothes,
Let your hair turn to rope,
Bury yourself in invisible rivers.
Fast until your bones are empty
And strong.

We must burn to see the light,
We must crack our statue to be free.
To be free, bring the outside, in.

We meet again on that empty road
Where two worlds collide,
We softly spoke to make it real,
We are linked like a chain you and I,
This rosary of lives
And crossing over we cannot part.

III
See the path unknown to science,
Rise like an opening flower;
Bloom, bloom, she climbs within us.

In the pure light we hide,
Up to the crown of our being and
Grace is given.

You are cosmic,
You glow in the dark,
You are untamed,
You are.

IV
When the book of the world is closed,
How can we see?
We must find a teacher to dust our lens,
Clean our ears.
They bring warmth to the rays of the sun
And empty out our form.

Things happen and there we are;
The sky, skies, the ocean, oceans;
In their language beyond words.

It’s a dance we cannot see, but can join
In time, when the mystical non-sense decrees.

Natures gifts pour into us, we are
Fed by the stars and sky, not potatoes.

How can we make an offering
Of what we are?
True love is not a show.

All borders are connections,
In our tears and sweat, the hidden knowledge
That is everywhere, that comes easy
When we are our own creation
And wise to befriend the mute vibration.

——

Angrez – In Hindi, an English or English-speaking white person.

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Images on the Road ’16-’17

Practicing Tai Chi – Beside the Forbidden City, Beijing

I’ve been on the road for over a year; Spain, Italy, Albania, Kosovo, Macedonia, Greece, Thailand, Indonesia, China, Nepal, India, soon to be Ethiopia (flying visit), Lebanon….. I enjoy taking photographs and I challenged myself to pick a few of my favourite images to show you. I came up with these.  All taken on my Mum’s old phone.

Girls dressed up for a festival – Kathmandu

The Togean Ocean – Sulawesi, Indonesia

Annapurna 1 – Annapurna Base Camp, Nepal

Graffiti – Valora, Albania

One of a Billion Diety – Kathmandu, Nepal

Have a coconut – Pondicherry, India

Green Canopy – Somewhere in Indonesia

Shepherd Family – The Accursed Mountains, Between Albania and Kosovo

Flower Shower – Tiger Leaping Gorge, China

Chai Stop – Mcleod Ganj, India

Books by the Fire – Pokhara, Nepal

Snack Time – Kolkatta, India

Guru Bar – Anjuna, Goa

Incense Offerings – Henan, China

Streetside Art – Lecce, Italy

Mountain Donkeys – Annapurna, Nepal

Little Monks – Kopan Monastery, Nepal

Old Men Gambling – Guangxhi Province, China

Concrete Nightmare – Guangzhou, China

Baba – Kathmandu, Nepal

Home grown Chilli – Longchi Rice Terraces, China

La Azhoia Sunset – Murcia, Spain

Longchi Rice Terraces, China

Meditation – Kopan Monastery, Nepal (Taken by Jase Web)

Monkey Minds – Bins, Mcleod Ganj

Sewing Machine – Kathmandu

Riding Effortlessly on the Great Wall – China

 

 

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Savitri – Sri Aurobindo

I recently visited Auroville, Tamil Nadu, India for the second time, a place I find deeply inspiring.  Auroville is a community envisaged by the sage Sri Aurobindo, a place free of binds to nations or corporations.  A work in progress, a place that strives to embody a new society based on sound ethics and virtue, a positive vision of how we could live in various degrees of harmony.  

I had not read Aurobindos poetry until recently and when I did, felt deeply moved by the potency and diversity of his work. Here are two small exerts from Savitri, regarded by many as his most profound and essential writing.

 

“and he saw like one walking into a dream

some timeless beauty and reality,

the moon-gold sweetness of heaven’s

earth-born child.”

“a few can climb to an unperishing sun,

or live on the edge of the mystic moon

and channel to earth-mind the

wizard way.”

“The two longing to join, yet walk apart,

Idly divided by their vain conceits;

They are kept from their oneness by enchanted fears;

Sundered mysteriously by miles of thought,

They gaze across the silent gulfs of sleep.”

“A marvellous sun looked down from ecstasy’s skies

On worlds of deathless bliss, perfection’s home,

Magical unfoldings of the Eternal’s smile

Capturing his secret heart-beats of delight.”

Namastex

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When the Music Stirred Edward

Edward

Edward

when the music stirs ohio,

streets are on fire,

dancing feet; chi vapours,

child shadow, voices in heads.

 

come dance on the streets,

she moves in ripples,

like child in sand,

come dance with me,

angel come down;

 

there can be no losers in

these virgin moves.

we learn as we burn

by turnpikes we turned right.

we are safe in the certainty of

all the things we don’t know,

staying young and doubtful.

 

the world joins when we dance;

just a touch

in seamless fields

where we love; one motion,

one act, one giant wave in the tears of broken hearts,

broken messiahs and the chronic mission.

 

the mountains moved legion

beneath cracked heels,

after all these revolutions,

ages of tyrants and fate,

dreams still steady as the sky,

endlessly open, endless oceans;

falling! falling! falling! (for something)

never real.

 

mother, please know that

i’m no longer dying,

no longer taking for granted

the storm signs that weathered

my soul,

certain to suffer freely

without remorse.

 

the teachings unearthed were wise grains,

in drums and strings

assured,

one step east

and we recline

in the easy chairs of liberation

(and a full refund with extras).

 

so i wear my make up hard,

life is dressing up,

losing your head and

growing it back again;

falling deeply into grooves,

all components lost and found

to feel silent and humble,

mute models of perfection in

spiralling implications of true beauty

realised.

 

one cloud migrating, no longer strange,

no longer longing, no longer desirable;

just desire, not wanting to pray anymore.

i love this here.

 

my maker, help me to the sun,

i reach for you to become

the stars and forgotten corners,

to be come courageous in the dark,

close my eyes in final peace.

 

i wish you to sweetly dissolve in

one effortless leap of true

endeavour,

a child again, at play,

changing trains in mindless states;

pushing off into never never land

for good.

 

on the road, still far gone,

caught way down the line,

wishful and fearful of death

in equal measure;

 

when i woke as a Burmese monk, in a dream,

i was murdered for what i believe.

a bullet in the brow and I was no more.

 

mother call; to live fresh in now.

down here; into light, into sound.

not turning cold shoulders on love

in this dawn of jilted lovers.

not to feign bliss, fake the freedoms to be found;

but to live immersed

in the higher heart, suffused with soul

and carefree verve.

 

When the music stirred Edward,

many apples came calling

and hope fell (BANG!) from the tree.

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Tapovan (A Collection) – Himalayas, India

Above Rishikesh

Above Rishikesh

Tapovan

Where the great sages

Once sat;

Where now I sit,

A humble scribble.

 

Rest with the holy men

And look to the stars.

 

Narrow windows

Of the soul,

Gleaming eyes

And begging bowls.

 

One and Many Faces

Within the calmest chamber of my heart, I found you sleeping;

Truth flowered from your eyes.

Locked in your gaze I remained breathless

And in your arms I gladly died.

 

Lost in the depths of love, guided by an inner bride,

May we merge these senses, make these revolutions shine.

 

Our silent dance now roars, engulfs all suffering;

Shatters illusory doors, floating on this conscious stream.

 

On the backs of Gods we ride, pilgrims ever set for salvation;

Beyond the temples of twisted mind, all one and many faces.

A Jungle Waterfall

A Jungle Waterfall

2

Fanned by the flame of infinite

Destiny; we are naturally cursed and blessed.

 

Hung in the cauldron of uncertainty, envy grips sincerity.

 

Crude words blot the page,

Sorrow is the cause

For the mountain orchids speak.

 

Nameless Sage

There is a formless forest guru, teak carved and polished clear;

As a tiger stalks and kills, this wooden soul would sit.

Just an old stone wasting no time at all; tendrils for toes, ascending with

Nature.  A rare breed with cloud-like constitution.

 

Given to an internal voyage, of Syrius he claimed soul form.

Now fully merged and fresh ash smeared, elephant hide wrapped tight to his ribs,

His three eyes stare at unity, directly.

 

Deep in the forest, lungs lined with early morning dew,

He talks only with tiny birds and hears of the coming rains.

Living out the depths of truth, where existence is the nectar,

A bliss filled concentration of effortless implication.

 

This heart a humble furnace, the nameless sage

Who charges the Himalayas with stillness,

A tranquil quake of focused purity.

 

Silent Song

In early day the mist has come,

Trees are stirring.

 

There is a deep well of beauty,

Still in time.

 

I hear the river fall

From the centre of the morning sun;

 

To disappear forever,

In silent, silent song.

 

Mandala Void

From out of the void,

A mandala, a body;

 

Something visible where the mind may feast

And fracture.

 

These fragments of burning candles,

The taste to realize;

Sweet mango, fresh chai.

 

White Swans

Rest easy in this celestial session,

Loving all, excluding nought.

 

All religions written in the mental sky.

When it clears, expose the vast light of truth.

 

Infinite the beatitude, god is nothing to fear.

Finer energies exist here, higher powers

We may touch; that we are.

 

Sleepless and nestled in the mothers arms.

Safe to tread the path riding white swans,

Wearing bells.

 

Here or There

Here or there; a fantastic meander,

Wild elephants in fields of sunflowers.

 

At odds with the love we are,

We are sleeping to make new days.

 

Yet all night our lamp

Still burns with grace.

The valley leading to Rishikesh

The valley leading to Rishikesh

Extracts from a collection written in Rishikesh, India, January ’14

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The Poetry of the Bauls

Bauls, the wandering mystics and minstrels of Bengal. Their branch of thought pre-dates even the Rig Vedas; for me their poetry and songs evoke all that is magical about India.

My soul cries out,
caught in the snare of beauty
of the formless one,

As I cry myself,
Night and day,
Beauty amassed before my eyes,
Surpasses moons and suns.

If I look at the clouds in the sky,
I see his beauty afloat.
And I see him walk on the stars,
Blazing within my heart.

I am returning to India in early January and ‘Riding effortlessly……’ will switch from a mainly poetry based blog to being a mainly travelling poetry blog.

Wishing you all a peaceful Christmas time and prosperous New OneX

 

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Ustad Ali Akbar Khan

“If you practice for ten years, you may begin to please yourself, after 20 years you may become a performer and please the audience, after 30 years you may please even your guru, but you must practice for many more years before you finally become a true artist — then you may please even God.”

Ali Akbar Khan

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