I looked closely at the waves
Moving forward to the shore--continuous
Replacing one after the other.
I listened. Beneath
My microscopic senses
Were surges, solid sounds
Not distinct from the previous.
All the seven seas have one and the same.
I meditated. If I push
Kamote to the soil
That is on the surface of the earth,
To a significant extent,
Tomorrow, in the coming days--certain--
I Would have enough to rub
My hungry hallow stomach, yet,
Yet I must feed the starvation
Of my mind, of my heart
Of my soul, fathom
The depth of the sea, grasp
Every truth of its billows
Even if they mean dying every day.
To die--better die striving
Strive to elevate
transfigure the repeated pattern
Of the sounds of the surges,
Of the movements of the waves
Before they reach the shore, than
Walk on the seaboard like a monk.
Brishma's Bed of Arrows
It seems you practiced asceticism:
stood in one toe in the snow
for seven and ten years
to learn the secret of my death.
Then there, one day, you struck me
With your hundred thousand arrows
In such full accuracy,
No space in my body
Thicker than two inches
Was not pierced;
I fell from where I stood,
Lying fully supported by
The sharp-edged shafts, with
No part of my body touching the earth--
And, I remain lying,
Alive but dead.
Love me better...
When I married you
I dared call myself not my own
I dared my soul to bow
For us to have a love-home; my every thought
My every heart-stroke, to you they belong,
Though from you, honesty I have not found;
No steadfast heart was there to lean upon.
My days went on, though rain never stops to fall
Until a time when I found myself broken-down
The moment when the sun did not show
‘Til the longest summer was done;
In spur of moment I have thought
Maybe I should stop counting
Maybe I should stop from watching
The sea waves from changing place
With that which goes before
To have your sweet embrace
And again, in spur of moment
I have thought, maybe,
Maybe you can love me --
Better in death
I searched you
In your deep
Ample brown eyes
Where thousands of
Beaming radiance I found
Translucid it was; yet
In one blink
The mirror of truth --I doubted
Figure of shadow
One has a comely face
The other is an evil
But, why I feel
They are the same
Now, I don’t know
How many moments that our hearts would remember?
How many things that our minds would forget?
- Blissful, sad, sweet, bitter -
- Small, big, great -
Some memories were forgotten,
But this one little while--I can never forget;
Nyx was our sole witness
While the shallow water by the pond sang her song
For our souls with content,
And there was the wind that spread scent of a promise...
A promise that I mused there was
Only to find that there never is --
Weighing of the Heart
Open the door, Breaker of Bones!
The door did not easily open
I was greeted instead
By a giant scorpion, that
I had to recite rightfully the spell for it
To make it return to its genuine form.
I was not a liar, I yelled!
Slant light I saw, then
I entered, only to find
Another giant scorpion
And another incantation I had to recite
And in every after slay, I confessed.
If my scribe in me scribbled them on my scroll
they would appear:
I did not cheat
I did not steal
I did not inspire fear!
This list could go on to forty-two,
-- for the forty-two doors.
Finally, I was greeted not by the monster
But by the hawk-headed son of god;
He guided me to the weighing scale
Time to weigh my heart
My heart should not be heavier
Nor even lighter than
The single feather of truth
If it will be, I will be devoured by
The half-crocodile-half-lion beast, waiting
At the other side of the wall.
This is the toughest test!
Is it only the heart
That should be put to the test
To have eternal life in paradise,
Because I have lived with wit and
Not only with a heart.
--Based on the Papyrus of Ani
Foolish I was, to have
Looked in the mirror of your soul
Dove into your core
Swayed into your sweet song
Foolish I was, to have
Made myself a crystalline
Let you conquer my domain
Allowed you to marry my mind
Now, all that foolishness
All that absurdity of mine
Are bringing me back on the brink
On the brink of endless darkness
Foolish I was, to have
Once more believed
In Odysseus and Penelope
I forgot to remember
That love --
Love seldom stays.
Blade of Truth
In those days, as a thriving young adult
Every time a blade of truth made me bleed
I had a burning desire to go back
To a time when my world was fair and plain,
When I had close connection with the earth
With the bird, with the trees, with the green hills
With the river, that when I bend over
A water, to quench my curiosity
I would behold in depth a pure maiden;
Now, as an older requiring woman
Every time a blade of truth makes me bleed
I dream of a world -a far distant world
--Better--that is not as it is today
But I am being constantly pricked by
The some irony of reality
Of this present strange-animated-earth
Convincing my one confused consciousness
To stay, to know better, to understand
To learn to compensate the loss of the
Direct connection, -- to feel --, and not to
Escape the ire, the wrath that causes the
Anguish, ‘cause to feel the unpleasant sharp --
Is a pleasure of bearing dignity,
Of giving birth to high forms of virtue.
I took the huge responsibility
Of brushing others' souls
Through my words;
I was bound to
Speak only the truth.
Did I make a wrong choice
I have only spoken to you
You broke my heart
Into smaller pieces –-
Now, I am bleeding.
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