Saturday, April 19, 2014

Collective Dream

“If everyone fought for their own convictions there would be no war.”

― Leo Tolstoy

Friday, April 18, 2014

Seed

Fill me
with your tears
for without them
I'm empty.

Fill me
with your love
for without it
I don't exist.

Fill me
with your suffering
for without it
I stumble in darkness.

Fill me,
fill me to the top
with every possible experience
and when I spill over
allow the soil to feed off my feelings
so that one day
someone may reap a fruit
that to me
was forbidden.

verse of unity

God did not come
in tents
or watches
God is a watchful host.
we must enjoy our time here.


(upon suddenly waking up one morning, I grabbed my phone to write it before it faded, then I went back to sleep. it came as a strange flash)

Now you see it, now you don't

A poet is like a magician. And a magician never gives himself away.

rest in peace

"He repeated until his dying day that there was no one with more common sense, no stonecutter more obstinate, no manager more lucid or dangerous, than a poet."

"It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment."

"No matter what, nobody can take away the dances you’ve already had."

"It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams."

- Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Friday, April 11, 2014

Bliss

Each moment is a now and each experience is an I. If one would transcend time and space by fully living in the now and by fully fulfilling one's unique function in existence, one would live in complete harmony with the universe.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Fulfillment

The path to uniqueness and the path to unity are one and the same.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Les Etoiles

It was written in the stars,
By an architect from Mars
That our light will shine above
Blinding light, numinous dove.



Samsara

The heart holds strong bonds with the truth. The more it is allowed to roam free, the more connections it will make.
But those connections will be severed by the mind’s search for unwitting pleasure. In a miserable attempt to mimic the heart’s ingenuity, it fails to realise that it’s causing nothing but damage. That it’s so easy to just go back to being obedient to the heart. Because the heart is a good master. It does not fool the mind. It is only the mind that is capable of fooling. The heart knows no such thing. The heart is innocent. The heart is pure. The heart rejoices in the singing of the birds, while the mind doesn’t even hear them. The heart trembles before a grieving soul, while the mind does its best to avoid being affected. We must sit straight, have clean clothes, write legibly, stick to concrete facts, as if the truth was something outside of you, alien to you. As if you’re in a dark room, trying to write an essay to God, to convince him that you’re worthy of Heaven. All this while saying to yourself, God doesn’t exist. What a silly torture! The mind trembles before truth. The mind trembles before the real "concrete facts". The mind falls down, starts stuttering and looks for an exit. The heart smiles warmly to gesture its appreciation and its love for truth. So vivid, so simple, yet so cleverly hidden in plain sight. Walking down the street, one might stumble across such a moment of clarity and of pure joy and inner bliss. But then he is reminded by the big adverts that he’s a consumer and it all becomes dust and fairytales. Blah, why do I drift off to such stupid ideas?