Niyati and the Porcelain Men

Today I had a lucid dream
scared maybe
At first
A bit
but I knew
I could do whatever I have dreamt of
if ever

“If ever I would know I were in a dream!”

Talking to the insentient and plants
in No words
but as if some kind of creative elasticity
Elongating through time and between you and I
moving them with my eye –
connected things and beings
honoring limitations of their body
Unitedly driven by my inspiration
in their authenticity
not transforming into something else
or of a reverie

And they stayed so
in response to our shared rhythm
only as what they were or could be
At a place called Niyati

That was a kind of communication without expectation
Like a dance without any attachment
Free
And for its own sake only
because
Because I was aware

Am aware

Knowing the scary
The only scary
could be my mind
but well tamed and choicelessly
staging itself now in a unified harmony
Having nothing left to hide
Nothing left at all other than what is
I – aware of its dream state
humbly play
and
this bizarre world
almost an experiment

assuming a body for myself and others and things
Animating the porcelain men
what could have been spiders
Initially made of dark ink spots
Splashing cheerfully into space
To be shaped into something
by the artful steering of a mind
Through the curvilinear dance
mushrooming
The porcelain men!

They behave as they should
like bees
Each one having a rank of his own
have had a meeting yesterday along a table
about their important matters
Not knowing they are my mind born entities
I – unwilling to interfere or come eye to eye with any one of them –
Sneaked out and went to this enchanting flower realm instead

I saw a rose plant without any flowers
looked at its missing blossoms and
We connected rhythmically
a prolific dynamism started blooming red roses
Pulling the skin towards a child’s thrill
enlightening a face with amusement
but then again keeping the source unchanged
through the tuning sound of a ‘ya’
“ya yaa yaaa”
which was also a formula
for the rose plant to convert the reds to yellows at once
and without a trace of its red past
blooming real fast
now!
Really! and I saw it happening!

Holding my breath ! for one slight moment of observation of the
“If ever I could capture this wonder”
what normally could take days by a stop motion
Trying to convince my mind that there should be a way to record this dream
Remembering I left my phone where the porcelain men were

Flushing big yellow roses of all sizes
all of which happening because of my presence
with my voice changing … in tune with my “ya” rhythm
And that moment
Dong! Bong! Clank!
Wumpth!

the alarm went on

such big shame
I knew it! kinda stuff followed
My eyes shut

Shall I go back?
It’s cold in here

I knew yes
this world and that one
connected at once
The separation ended For a moment
the limitation of one dimensionality
Created by my mind
in this waking reality
It is cold yes
coming from the thought constructs
Gently warming up the cold now

as Mahabharata says:
“Whatever is here is everywhere, whatever is not here is nowhere to be found.”


Niyati is the energy of being situated in only one particular place - Siva Sutras

Sofa Legs

What is a day when you wake up in meditation
this body is inseparable from this light
and the mellowly blowing signless flag
singing only to one side
and the brown edge
beckoning
nothing else than its edgeness

Skin having already freed itself from the weight bearing traces of the dust of my mind
capturing smooth
the light –
melting differences over the bumpless
recalling velvety longing

not for the sake of the material but
Saluting
the freedom that has once recorded this twin light
long ago
on such surface

for its manifestation

bringing awareness about the tempter
on senses
and again imploding its imaginary cavities
on the touchless curves of a sofa
newly displaying the angle of
its wooden edge
drawing a perfect eighty five degree Invisible line
in space
towards the webless corner -just noticed-
where the eye gets relieved by its neatness
and relaxes
becoming the point of a trivalent stillness

This – the edgy- is a sister of these Sofa legs
Four in all

implying itself as a sexiest part of its couch –
couch of a type – as it says
owning each other
now
Like body and sense
in one posture
and in its remembered object name

and maybe ready to unfold memories Alas
if there would be openness to listen
or if I were what it could allure me to be for its charm

but No – it says nothing this time
mending time through fractals of its becoming my spaceless space
with the old radio set aside
never playing more than its silent tunes for those skaters in an etching of an ancient landscape hanging on the wall above since …
since before the internet age
showcasing a memory that nobody knows and can see or hear but smell maybe
beside a winter blossom
flourishing its inspiration

not understanding each other but requiring the same attention as my body does
or as the realization of a thought that I could not run up that hill as fast as that dog –

a dog being observed behind a glass and I am unsure if this observation could have effect on the style it puts to the run

or if my observation is being observed and that may be a reason of its action as such
as if it does so to show off – Really!
unknowing to who or what
and then again still …

AaaaaW !!!! Shut up!

No no no ! I should stop now

what may make a catch less of a catch
putting things of importance of a day on a scale of indifference
and then again what is this nosy urge
unallowing
interfering
asking for order!?!

It is a play.

See ?!
even if you like it or not
I am in and such is
You yOU YoU

A play as true as the one watching
Same actually –
Same as the one watching

Watching or steeped in
Space in Space

and/or
No Space

and/or
non of these Things

nonetheless
A day remains
Unending
as the mind fades to embrace
Wordless

whisper
(Like the day
rainbows are manifesting
from the heart
of this inspiration)

 

Before I open my eyes

20161130_002420
Nora, the world squatter - squatting the world with the light of I
 postcard  for Nora doing the Mālāsana

This pleasantness
This fullness
Before I wake up
Before I open my eyes
to one of the worlds of awakes
in which I with my body
resides

This pleasantness
This fullness

This joy
to embrace you
all
and move
move
and fly
Fly

reveal plain

Love
only love

as I dive in
to the lights

of knowledge

I learn

selfless
non-attached
full of youth
and all that
I passed to

to a child
now

new born

in her dreaming smile
I see

You me

Little supreme Spanda
smiling like Siva
when she sleeps

I dream of or am awake

This pleasantness
This fullness
before I opened my eyes
now

Inspiration as it were

You are not from this time
I am not from this place
but if time would be place
I would sit across you again
on a lucid carpet and play the games

like a maze
born from your smile
and assigned to me
as yogas

‘for the Play!’
as you would always say

If time would be place
I would become the dance –
particles mingling you to me
we would pass through each other
and heave this universe

just as I have become the light reflection
shining reverse in your pupil
one of on that vase which you’ve always observed
unmoving
and
without any prejudgment
analyzing breathless what it really is

maybe not so much different than the self
learning the essence from the self
without words

true knowledge remains in the body of experience only

Like a mantra

what makes the eye is what sees the eye
the key is well preserved Timelessly in love

***

Just as I know moments your thoughts connect to me
Just as I can become your skin again and again
experience this world through your breath

and teach your hunger a lesson 🙂

It does not help hiding you through my psoas
if I press the big toes and as the diaphragm falls
these muscles wherein you hide stretch
and O dear one
subtle is the skin we share
through which fingers can pass
not dense – not dense at all!
like any universe born and witnessed by inspiration

and like a sea-squirt I can then digest anything that is past tense

and that’s exactly how I became a raven today
balancing on the thinnest and highest branch of a maple
even a sparrow wouldn’t dare
but the gaze of inspiration

Only to see your form one more time
Standing there at the window from a past
Watching the park

You know
It is needless to ask
How

It is not the mind that can answer
neither waves of any sort
Yes you already know

You
immersed in an unmoving gaze
For generations
At different places
In different bodies
Having monumentalized the eagle’s eye
Should know!

because
Immeasurable remains the thingless to things
and Inspiration as it were

Stay Stay this time!

If it would be up to me
I would be facing now

Rocks

Cool elegance
formed by the flexuous splash
Wild is the temper belonging
to the change of the impending season
the bleak-dark growing deep inside
A passion higher than the unreaching
tangent of a sharp urge unable to cut
by a smoothing of a creamy surface
Opaque by nature
hiding explosions inside
Bearing mysteries of the swallowed sounds
of seasons

Seasons of all the knowing
Covered by …as if
the fabric of the unknowing
of the autumn waves
of the sea that grew teardrops
Washed away at once
by a fierce Splash
Shifting the mind
as the slapped face of the shores lamenting
remerge
Covered with its courageous green
A regenerating variant elongating savor
to the nose coloring the mind
by the help of a long Forgotten
rush of the algae unseen
diffusing Joy
drifting the rhythm
of a piano of a Turkish contemporary
unlikely to be heard through this maddening
storm where I am standing tall at the edge
In perfect effortless balance
Saluting the gusting and the turbulent
of all sides encircling to provide
the stillness of a home at hearts
As they used to do

O
My friends
Stay Stay this time!
As if a song
flourishing
the smile inside
As I used to do
gestureless
and they would see

But I will need to cross soon
the horizon approaching
Vertical
I only came to see you
One more time
embrace you
the last time
walk with you
through the bazaars and bridges

Our memories trapped in tidal fluctuation
Spanning generations over the Bosphorous
traces of dolphins patiently carrying
holding on to the edges
of old fishing boats
Wood hardly bearing
these ashes made of stars
Waiting to be born again
by my one look into the water
like the first one
A cry of eternity
and Today
I am heading home already
crossing this place only
where you brewed me to love
in this old drawing of truth
plainly framed
hanging
on this play
for a farewell

Ashes to alight to the sky
sculpting the light of poetic alignment
of you and I
in the eyes of the loving

A deliverance of Enjoyment of the being
Shall be my duty says a passerby carrying
The matchmaker’s match for all
Until the final journey
where I shall eternally Stay
Stay this time
but
I am heading home now
I only came here to set you free

You and I

You and I cannot meet yet
As long as we are reduced to a yet
These are kancukas

Our longing shall arise suns
For which I will wake up
and be with you
As two bodies apart
You and I cannot touch again
Should stay so
As long as we are reduced to an again
These are kanchukas
You already knew
I know it now too
Having seen the truth
Yet
I may still
miss you
Sometimes
I say

And then again
Knowingly
Reattempting
Scenarios of human ignorance
under the veil of the
Habitual Play of sankoca
and as long as things are So
reduced
to a measure of a thing of the mind
You and I will be apart

The last time
in this time
of impurity
Where we have chosen to be
As we have chosen to be
same time
Not randomly
But perfectly
in our chosen body

I will paint skies
as you by my heart
simultaneously make love As such
for the arousal of all
Again and again
by your love I remain

You and I is eternity
We came here the last time
AND I will melt time this time to never
to never sever from you again

Lead your life my love
with full of enjoyments cause
you are free of bondage
Lead your life my love
with full of enjoyments cause
as Always selfless we stay
in all cities of life
I sense where I should

We are mere reflections
of the last Veda
and the first

The one
The only one
the one that has always been
and cannot be read
by eyes seeing only
gross words

because you and I
my love is the key

One sound
One heart
Never apart