iam for fresh a kiss
Vinod cv
Oh really really beautiful your eyes
It is just flying to my evenings
Carrying it all the unopened mysteries
I am bound by the charm like a bee
Showers from the eyes suffusing my spirit
Silent dance of loving lips rolling on my wrist
Living I am at the thin Edge of your Dreams
It is like dwelling on a naked promise
Ur call and footsteps wrapping me in an endless hug
I don’t have an identity any more
Neither I seek it.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
IDEAS FROM-- Revelations (Thought Series 1)
IDEAS FROM-- Revelations (Thought Series 1)
An Enquiry into the power of ideas and the route through which it reaches the fertile valleys of a human intellect
Vinod cv
Ideas rule the world. Many think it is the material prowess is the defining element. Unfortunately, that seems correct, thinking from a very superficial point of view. But what is forgotten is the role of ideas played in shaping the material success.
Everything is born as an idea. It is true for most abstruse philosophical formulations. It is true for even a simple mechanical invention. Seemingly, Small ideas blossom as spectacular achievement in human history. The past of our species is replete with any number of such examples.
Once ideas are formed, then what is to be followed is very simple. Execution is important but idea is the key. It is the password, which allows one to enter into the mansion of new and fresh avenues of experience. All great revolutions are sprouted as relentless ideas in the fertile minds of highly receptive thinkers.
Eastern philosophers believe that ideas do float around us. Just like the radio waves past us, the currents of ideas are lie pregnant in the mind of space to caress the back of our head to inspire us. As a nonworking radio can’t receive the waves, our un-tuned or under-tuned intellect fails to even sense the import of scenes, glimpses and sights that invites us in every moment.
That s why, all religions of the world exhort the followers to get ready for super natural and super sensory. A deeply contemplative mind can see and slice off ideas. Lot of atheists and rationalists may have also sensed the wonders and invented many things of worth. The difference is that they do not acknowledge or sometimes doesn’t know the spiritual heights from which they harvest the ideas.
Ideas do search for the right mind and intellect to materialise. Finding a soul ripe enough to receive a ripe idea, the unknown law of life will put it on that basket. So the burden is be attentive and remain pure and ego less to accept the ideas. Once ideas came, flowering of that bud is a matter of time. Here or there, it will actualise.
Nobody can forcefully pluck an idea flower from the unseen garden of space. It is with loving prayers one can request it. With the utmost Sadhanas, one can access it. In the bottomless beauty of silence, a soul aspires for it. In the midst of a sleep, idea will walk in blushingly to be cuddled. But then also, the question is that whether we are ready for it. Are we mature enough to be kissed by the hugging glances of glorious ideas lurking behind.
An Enquiry into the power of ideas and the route through which it reaches the fertile valleys of a human intellect
Vinod cv
Ideas rule the world. Many think it is the material prowess is the defining element. Unfortunately, that seems correct, thinking from a very superficial point of view. But what is forgotten is the role of ideas played in shaping the material success.
Everything is born as an idea. It is true for most abstruse philosophical formulations. It is true for even a simple mechanical invention. Seemingly, Small ideas blossom as spectacular achievement in human history. The past of our species is replete with any number of such examples.
Once ideas are formed, then what is to be followed is very simple. Execution is important but idea is the key. It is the password, which allows one to enter into the mansion of new and fresh avenues of experience. All great revolutions are sprouted as relentless ideas in the fertile minds of highly receptive thinkers.
Eastern philosophers believe that ideas do float around us. Just like the radio waves past us, the currents of ideas are lie pregnant in the mind of space to caress the back of our head to inspire us. As a nonworking radio can’t receive the waves, our un-tuned or under-tuned intellect fails to even sense the import of scenes, glimpses and sights that invites us in every moment.
That s why, all religions of the world exhort the followers to get ready for super natural and super sensory. A deeply contemplative mind can see and slice off ideas. Lot of atheists and rationalists may have also sensed the wonders and invented many things of worth. The difference is that they do not acknowledge or sometimes doesn’t know the spiritual heights from which they harvest the ideas.
Ideas do search for the right mind and intellect to materialise. Finding a soul ripe enough to receive a ripe idea, the unknown law of life will put it on that basket. So the burden is be attentive and remain pure and ego less to accept the ideas. Once ideas came, flowering of that bud is a matter of time. Here or there, it will actualise.
Nobody can forcefully pluck an idea flower from the unseen garden of space. It is with loving prayers one can request it. With the utmost Sadhanas, one can access it. In the bottomless beauty of silence, a soul aspires for it. In the midst of a sleep, idea will walk in blushingly to be cuddled. But then also, the question is that whether we are ready for it. Are we mature enough to be kissed by the hugging glances of glorious ideas lurking behind.
Tsunami of a new year(poetry)
Tsunami of a new year
Vinod cv
Nobody send me a New Year card this time
But, Tsunami came to the shores unasked
It shook the shoreline of life in my islands of existence
Where is the god who divided the seas?
False prophets can’t stop even a wind dear
The un spelled appeals fell on barren altars of no response
Even before the prayers reached, flowers crushed
The help less cries of life filled the woes of hapless sky
The cathedral of silence is washed away in the chilly morning
String less Kites fell on the face of sand bed
The names of street children come nowhere in the lists of dead
On the frozen fingers, the last kiss is scattered in moist
It’s a loving fathers last tribute or its shattered wife’s final prayer
It’s a sister’s parting plea and mother’s mourning lips
Everywhere, Wobbling earth peeled the layers of lovely smiles
Lashing water roared and raided it the roaming urchins
Water ate the dreams of the coast and smiles vanished forever
And widows searched for the eyes of stilled love
Mothers wept and bosoms swelled with pain
The color of pain and the pain of love smeared on the streets of death
The dark dance of death is replayed with revenge
The black sea snakes reared the fangs of poison
The folded hands of man is the image everywhere
The story of tears is the songs of sad losses
Man is a babe before the eyes of MOTHER
Lullabies of love is needed on the lips to feel safe
But the tsunamis of life visited my vain pride again
Reminding the naked view of a helpless infant on a cradle
Weak and defenseless is the feeble voice of a meek man
Timid and tamed, he is before the unknown games of un understood life
Fearful and insecure, a human being is vulnerable
Naked and wretched, he is before the powers beyond
Frail the figure and fragile the mind, he cant do anything
He can cry only, he can just cry only and he can just cry only
Vinod cv
Nobody send me a New Year card this time
But, Tsunami came to the shores unasked
It shook the shoreline of life in my islands of existence
Where is the god who divided the seas?
False prophets can’t stop even a wind dear
The un spelled appeals fell on barren altars of no response
Even before the prayers reached, flowers crushed
The help less cries of life filled the woes of hapless sky
The cathedral of silence is washed away in the chilly morning
String less Kites fell on the face of sand bed
The names of street children come nowhere in the lists of dead
On the frozen fingers, the last kiss is scattered in moist
It’s a loving fathers last tribute or its shattered wife’s final prayer
It’s a sister’s parting plea and mother’s mourning lips
Everywhere, Wobbling earth peeled the layers of lovely smiles
Lashing water roared and raided it the roaming urchins
Water ate the dreams of the coast and smiles vanished forever
And widows searched for the eyes of stilled love
Mothers wept and bosoms swelled with pain
The color of pain and the pain of love smeared on the streets of death
The dark dance of death is replayed with revenge
The black sea snakes reared the fangs of poison
The folded hands of man is the image everywhere
The story of tears is the songs of sad losses
Man is a babe before the eyes of MOTHER
Lullabies of love is needed on the lips to feel safe
But the tsunamis of life visited my vain pride again
Reminding the naked view of a helpless infant on a cradle
Weak and defenseless is the feeble voice of a meek man
Timid and tamed, he is before the unknown games of un understood life
Fearful and insecure, a human being is vulnerable
Naked and wretched, he is before the powers beyond
Frail the figure and fragile the mind, he cant do anything
He can cry only, he can just cry only and he can just cry only
Saturday, January 01, 2005
FROM YOU TO YOU -Read this poem of mine (POETRY)
FROM YOU TO YOU
VINOD CV
The essence of it is you
The rain of this monsoon is from your womb
The summer is your Nipples
Your navel beckons the earth
The edges of eternity is your toe rings
Your hip is the seamless girth of silence
The long dark deep hair is black cobra
Your palm is the seducing mirror of my soul
Your eyelashes is a rainbow rediscovered
Ur lips are the melting symphony of planets
The winter of your mother bosom made me a monk again
Heralding festivals of you are eroding my feet
The earlobes of you are open arms of god
You r walking softly on my mud paths
The nose studs of life in your delights bewitch me
The pretty glimpse of your lovely anklets lured the snakes
But the light of your loving smile raises the lotus in eyes
I am looking for salvation in your smile
I want to drink you and die
I love your charms and fragrance only
In the perfect perfume of your innocence
I am a teenager besotted hopelessly
Dear I am just the shadow of your eyelids
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