1/30/12




Le sage ne rencontre pas de difficultés. Car il vit dans la conscience des difficultés. Et donc n’en souffre pas. Sois avare de tes paroles, et les choses s’arrangeront d’elles-mêmes.


~ Lao Tseu ~



1/20/12

Leopard saves baby baboon

I think a lot of people fail to realize that animals are capable of love and compassion for others. This leopard obviously felt great remorse for killing the babies mother and was just trying to fix a mistake it made. Sad, most humans don't even that this kind of compassion yet we are labeled the "domesticated" ones.


1/12/12

I have dwelt midst the depths of your mysterious forests, seeking to comprehend the language of your lofty nature, and the evening airs that murmured midst the foliage of banyans and tamarinds whispered to my spirit these three magic words: Zeus, Jehova, Brahma.





How glorious the epoch that then presented itself to my study and comprehension! I made tradition speak from the temple’s recess. I enquired of monuments and ruins, I questioned the Vedas whose pages count their existence by thousands of years and whence enquiring youth imbibed the science of life long before Thebes of the hundred gates or Babylon the great had traced our their foundations.

It brings to the West a salutary reminder that our highly activistic and one-sided culture is faced with a crisis that may end in self-destruction because it lacks the inner depth of an authentic metaphysical consciousness. Without such depth, our moral and political protestations are just so verbiage. If, in the West, God can no longer be experienced as other than "dead", it is because of an inner split and self-alienation which have characterized the Western mind in its single-minded dedication to only the half of life: that which is exterior, objective and quantitative. 

1/1/12

The Wanderer



 
I am the wanderer,
among dancing spheres of light
ignoring the passers-by
for they seem to fear the night

the wind whispers my name —
hello casual shadow apprentice
the mysterious alleys play with my life
any one of them can end it

chills rush down my spine
invigorating intrusions of thoughts commence
senses heightened to hostility
mind laced with narcotic raw suspense

strangers in the city
hollow shells of human interactions
a little cognitive dissonance
and they split into their factions

my eyes are but a mirror
at the helm of self-projected expectations
existence just as questioned
in a realm of self-constructed limitations

here lay the archetypes
strewn across a jungle deemed concrete
I gave them only basic validation,
the kind they seemed to need

I saw brutality in vanity
in a girl which still despairs
I told her neutrality is sanity
in a world which will not care

I felt the destitution of a madman
collecting carts of trash
his classic answer was the bottle
which he thinks contains his past

I heard the prophet of the corner
raising his voice in majestic certainty
to make not us, but himself believe
in a concept called eternity

I shook the hands of a wiseman
disguised in the attire of a fool
when asked if death dismayed him
I thought he’d be a liar; he told the truth

I carried conversations with myself
over dial-tones enigmatic
I stood in front of television stores
just to hear the static

returning from the wandering
the clarity of the midnight air inhaled
I sought the solitude free from reason
the disparity of consciousness prevailed

my burden of analysis
falls on shoulders that won't hold
cold dead eyes of calculation
betray a soul I've never sold



About Me

My photo
We yearn for some explosive, extraordinary escape from the inescapable and, none forthcoming, we put our faith in an apocalyptic rupture whereby the inevitable is solved by the unbelievable grasshoppers, plagues, composite monsters, angels, blood in industrial quantities, and, in the end, salvation from sin and evil--meaning anxiety, travail, and pain. By defining human suffering in cosmic terms, as part of a cosmic order that contains an issue, catastrophe is dignified, endowed with meaning, and hence made bearable.