Wednesday, October 12
don't be fooled by this glimmering gown
where you see beauty, intelligence, desire
that is only my convincing costume
but if you strip the personality down
off my shoulders, over my hips,
you may behold my naked nature,
obvious but hidden, I'm absolute bliss.
Look like lips
Her lashes like invitations
Extending out to be kissed
But not too brief,
Her stare is constant
While my longing
from the base of my heels
crisscrossing my ankles,
calves, knees, thighs
up my bare back
One pearl at a time
'Till I meet you in my mind
>>Did I hurt you?
I didn't mean to sink my freshly manicured acrylics into your jugular.
Perhaps next time you'll exercise a little more impulse control.
Keep your hands off my ass, I'll keep my nails out of your neck.
Are we agreed?
I sit before the absolute
she doesn't give a shit
how I live or die.
God simply is.
Ultimate choice is up to me
And instead of activating an existential crisis,
with overwhelming compassion
for the atheist.
Today, I took eating contemplation at a local café down the street.
Some punk kid with spiked hair saw me sitting alone and smirked.
Instead of averting my eyes, as would've been my stock response,
I looked back and really saw...
This is the work:
Being open to see...
The temple that the mind interprets as a café,
the buddha that the ego thinks is a threat,
The penetrating glimpse of God that almost went unnoticed.
-- Kamala Devi
>>Poetry spilling forth
like melody after a symphonic repose
Do I play the flute, or does the flute play me?
Can I be the servant to these sounds
which deliver me to supreme liberation?
Who is Typing
Words plucked from the river of collective consciousness and plopped down on
the page to dry, lest they float by, to be fished out by some downstream
poet, on some other clear day.
there's no desire in the dance
it's moving, feeling, flowing into space
there's nothing to want
each pregnent moment rolls forward offering fullness
delivering breath after breath and with each
the birth of possibility, forgiveness, and direct experience
There's a place I know
Not far from here
where if you listen,
a little peice of earth cracks open
and if you sit still enough
you just may slip through this crack,
falling upward into grace.
Seeking more pleasure.
Surging towards an end which does not exist.
And in the swirling rise and fall,
should you ride a crest so high it's confused for a climax,
Know there is no such pinnacle.
Only the starting point of another wave...
rushing towards more
www.BlissCoach.com Kamala Devi