They have all been written at different times, and many of them are repetitive. Besides, of late, I have been trying to write on creation and universe; and therefore, in many of them, physical laws or scietific terms are used at random. I shall in due course - as I edit them, provide a glossary or explanation. Thanks for going through them.
Biren
The vacuous mind
Thinks no thoughts,
About nothing. Nirvana.
The monk is back
At the shrine,
Having been nowhere.
I am what I am,
If I were what I were not,
I could not be that which I am.
Will she, for whom every syllable
Is intoned in silence,
Ever be able to hear it?
Don’t make me wait so long,
That my wait exceeds,
My frozen life.
As life flows on
Will she ever read it - this keepsake to her,
Whose memory will never die.
Lightning stabs the darkness,
Stormy night.
No quiet place for my troubled mind.
Never is here.
Nowhere is here,
No visible end in this non-existent tunnel.
The bright moon changed its course,
Left him, the wanderer, walking alone
Under an empty sky .
Dark lowering clouds,
Enveloping the endless sky
The heart is overcast with raindrops of longing.
Long cold nights,
My thoughts wander,
Seeking a warm home to rest.
Alone in a dark night,
Crickets mourn their
Condolences for my dead love.
Your touch, I thought
Would change me.
It made me myself....
Scar in my heart,
Is invisible yet deeper
Than the scar on my forehead....
You left me,
So absolutely, that;
You did not even leave your memories....
The jay-bird, the oriole, the red velvet mite
and the peacock, stopped
bringing back my childhood seasons....
Did the gale blow away
The beautiful sakura, or the sakura decided,
It is time to leave?
We promised to part and not look back,
But when my head turned over my shoulder,
saw, you were looking back.
She came from nowhere, like a sparkling dew,
vanished in the morning to nowhere,
A dream within a dream.
My always unreachable vodafone,
Helps me ensconce
In my hideaway, my lonliest existence.
Your memories, like
dark Clouds, pass by slowly;
raining tears as they go.
Windows are shut from that day
not to let away the fragrance
Of the flowers you brought in.
Children going to school.
Bag full of dreams in their backpacks.
Weighing their childhood down.
The tired porter in the railway station
Wonders who will
Carry his luggage for him.
Late, in the fish market
Hawkers’ tired voice
Yell in silence for unsold fish rotting.
Under the starlit sky,
As we lie down on the sands by the sea,
Love covers us with warmth.
Tea stain on the table,
Sweet fragrant memories, remind me of
The time you were here.
Rodin, helplessly lost in thought
Where to search for,
The thoughts he lost.
As I walk on the dry leaves
Their rustle
Echoes the sound of your absence
My heart stops for a moment,
Whenever I see her,
For only whom it keeps beating.
The wanderer’s song wafts through
With the cold breeze from the mountains.
But night rules with silence.
Dry withered branch
Clings to the tree with hope
Spring will come again.
I walk into infinite emptiness
Where Nothing
Is not even in existence.
The red vermillion dot
On her forehead, increases her beauty
Ten times as a zero.
I have not been nowhere,
But I am back,
To my non-existent life.
Leave behind a little of your fragrance,
A sparkle of your smile
To keep my dreams alive.
You are my Panadol, my Valium
You are my Prozac, my Viagra.
You are the prescription for this doctor.
Our love is timeless,
Its horizons
limited by infinity.
Summer love prevails,
On winter's unknown sorrows-
All parallels, pale.
Like a parched desert
I soak in the rain of your love
Standing completely drenched.
Agape with wonder
As frosty nights fly by me,
I wait for your smile to warm me.
Nothing left to do
But wait for you to tell me
You love me again.
The sun was diving into the sea,
my tears dried and voice choked,
I could not say goodbye.
Do my silent sighs
Of my loneliness reach your ears.
From miles and miles away?
Silently growing old,
Like those two flowers,
Till autumn wind withers us.
You are my Panadol, my Valium
You are my Prozac, my Viagra.
You are the prescription for this doctor.
You did not turn up,
And left me with,
Sad memories of nothing.
In my life of highs and lows,
You are the
Happy middle of the balance.
My world became so empty
After you ran away with
All our memories.
Moon sighs in the opaque night
As clouds bewitch it.
Pitch dark road for the lonely journey-man.
When the lone monk reaches
The top of the mountain,
No horizons look distant.
The old temple bell, during the eerie nights
Reminds me every time,
End is just an hour closer.
Life, like a pile of sand,
Decides its own form,
Whichever way I pour it.
Crying in the rain, missing her
Seeing the cloud kissing the mountain,
Soaking it with love.
Warmth of love in the spring,
Makes the vibrant flowers bloom,
Soul’s freedom from the frozen jail.
Too dazed to utter even those
Seventeen syllables when I see you.
Your smile stuns me.
Your picture speaks a thousand words,
But your smile, just seventeen.
The birth of a lovely haiku.
He created love to soothe the pain.
When love causes the pain,
What soothes it?
Dark clouds prevail
Over the summers scorching mood.
Every thing changes with the rain.
Cannot waste this precious time
So that I can save it
To waste finally.
Does the moon look larger
In your large lake,
Than how it looks in my small pond?
The address you gave while leaving,
Read 404 – address not found
When I reached.
Dying to see you,
So, your touch makes
Me alive again.
The monk wishes to complete
His living, to look backwards
At the end.
The butterfly, wants to be
A caterpillar; that
Again becomes a butterfly.
The zen monk is trying,
To hit escape in his
Notebook of jumbled programs.
The monk waits for the moment,
To hit, ctrl-alt-del one last time.
No reboots – just the end.
The monk lets go all that he ever loved,
And now, at the end;
He is left with all that he loves.
The cloud, limps its way in the sky,
Reluctantly, or is it confused
At the cross roads in the sky, where to go.
No shooting stars for years.
Leaves me disappointed.
With many unfulfilled wishes!!
The monk lets go all that he ever loved,
And now, at the end;
He is left with all that he loves.
My notebook like me,
Does every thing,
But think.
Life starts with unanswered questions,
And ends with,
Many answers for questions unknown.
Cyber fragrance
Wafts through the cyberspace,
She logged into my msn messenger.
When he toddled, my world moved,
His warbles brought symphony to my soul.
His eyes lit up my world. My son!
Why does my mind
Oscillate between joys of meeting her and
Pains from separation to follow? I am not a monk!
Feelings – real but not true
Thoughts – true but not real.
You are true and real. My love,
(feelings are like natural laws - gravity, or weight or mass or speed, etc - which are in real sense never true as all velocities are relative. Likewise, in Mathematics or logic, infinity or zero or fractions, etc are true, but they are never real - like half a pen or deducting infinity from infinity, etc - but they are true and proven)
Ignorance that it will never end,
My first love,
Time laughs at it.
The first kiss - a comma,
an exclamation or a question mark?
Heart hopes it is not a full stop.
Boundaries of our love
Was drawn by the sphere of infinity,.
with infinite density.
Does the star not exist because you cannot see?
Doea the sea not exist because you cannot feel it?
Learn to feel them – no questions.
The monk's most important mission,
Is to find out,
What is the most important mission of life.
I promise, I will never think about it.
When I try to stop thinking about it,
I think about it even more. Tears.
.
Why to question
The why,
When the why will always remain a question?
I am searching for something,
I know not. Shall know
When I find it finally.
To know,
What I do not know.
To hold a handful of void.
I am what I am,
If I were what I were not,
I could not be that which I am.
The wanderer’s song wafts through
With the cold breeze from the mountains.
But night rules with silence.
I walk into infinite emptiness
Where Nothing
Is not even in existence.
Dark clouds prevail
Over the summers scorching mood.
Every thing changes with the rain.
Basho’s frog jumped in the pond
My moon shattered into pieces.
Waiting it to calm, to get my moon back.
When I feel your hair on my face,
Caressing softly,
My dreams remain entangled in the dark manes
Looked at the rock
Rough and ridges and deshaped,
It becamme a flower. Zen.
Cannot waste this precious time
So that I can save it.........
To litter it away myself.
Ascending with the load of life,
Bogged down, Sisyphus realizes,
Zen does not carry the baggage from past.
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Doesn’t languish in morass of speculation,
The monk – not scared of tomorrow’s uncertainty,
He knows tomorrow too well to bother.
Dark matter in the universe,
The omnipresent dark energy, existing
In empty space.
Cold tears wash my life away,
As you stand unmoved,
The cause of my tears.
What is that dark matter in the universe,
Wherefrom came the dark enerby that envelopes all,
Present in the absolute void?
Plotting his path joining the stars
In the sky, the mind strolls through the universe.
The galactic monk.
Dark space, no coordinates
No starting point, no finishing line,
The monk begins his journey.
Love of entire life,
Passions of a lifetime,
Everything takes a form in a single drop of tear.
Your eyes treasured all my dreams,
Your smile kept all my happiness.
Where did I lose you?
Path of Nirvana, circles the Zero,
Neither ends nor begins,
You return to where you started from.
Miracles can be explained, but
Not how they happen.
Surprises in life – a proof of his being.
In the parallel universe,
Your refusal is your acceptance.
But how do the parallels meet?
Traversing through the wormholes,
In the eleven dimension multiverse,
The monk searches for the darkest blackhole – the Nirvana.
God’s melody resonates,
Through the hyperspace; the invisible strings
Creating the harmony in the universe.
The inimitable perfection of his design,
Heightened by his limitless imagination,
Infinite universe.
Void and infinity, he trades one for the other,
Knows they are merely two sides,
Of the very same coin.
Will the universe end expanding into
A cold deep freeze, or a hot big colliding blast,
How will be the process of Nirvana?
The dark energy from the void distances us
Till we lose each other’s warmth;
Leading to an absolute solitary existence.
Einstein’s theory of everything and
The monk’s theory of nothing, meet
Where every thing is nothing.
Your light, like that of the dead star,
Still reaches and enlightens my life,
Though you are long gone.
Enter the blackhole of nirvana.
No escape velocity.
For the monk’s mind and soul.
If ever you read this, and
Think of me,
A drop of tear will be my life’s worth.
The lonely wanderer,
No baggage of the past, no weight of the present,
And no load of the future – the monk.
When he knows what is possible,
He also knows what is impossible.
The monk smiles at the lack of differences.
When it is dark,
You neither see nor know,
What lies inside the mirror.
Living in a dimensionless world,
Empty space, the monk finds
No destination to sail for.
No new place brings him joy,
Nor was he sad, where he was.
Why the journey?
The night sky weeps silent tears,
The sea groans in agony, the lighthouse stands lifeless.
The monk walks on.
Whisper of the winds through the pines,
Moon’s hide and seek with the clouds, and the chirping cuckoo,
Cheer up my dreams.
Getting rid of so much of nothing,
The monk looks back one last time,
As takes up his last journey.
Does the temple bell in the morning
Ends the night, or, does the morning sun
Makes it ring?
The orange sun, the morning mist,
The chilling breeze, the singing cuckoo,
It is time for him to start, again.
The omnipresent being with his hands,
Balances omega and lambda,
The universe’s survival.
Finally, the monk found the answer,
An answer which questions,
Its own validity.
The grass bends down under
The weight of the images of the world,
The water droplet sitting on it carries.
Weighed down by your images anf thoughts,
Time to retire to bed,
And escape to the world of my dreams.
The echoes of his flute,
Comes from every mountain around the valley,
Where is he hiding?
My dreams ascend on the rainbow,
To the heavens,
As I lie on the earth, at the bottom.
The bright red goldmohur,
The lively green foliage, Can you
Understand the description by the cuckoo?
The sound of the big bang
Reverberates eternally through the universe.
Aum – the sound of the creation.
My life, exists
Like a needle balanced vertically.
In an uunstable equilibrium.
Every thing in Zen,
Is absolutely empty,
If and only if it is not.
I can watch my back,
As I walk away from myself,
Till it gets lost behind the horizon.
Possibilities turn probabilities,
Probabilities, inevitabilities; till his surprises,
Tear every thing apart.
The broken segment of the fractal,
Becomes a fractal; the original remaining as it was.
The principle of Infinite Brahman.
The waves keep hitting the shore endlessly,
Neither the shore moves, nor the waves stop.
An endless relationship.
Endless path, and a never-ending journey.
Where is the bodhi-tree?
The monk’s quest has to end.
In realizing the worldliness,
As much as otherworldliness,
Lies the wisdom of the zen mind.
When there was nothing, absolutely nothing,
What could have stirred?
Creating the universe?
The lonely wanderer, at last, finds the answer
To his question, and a question challenging the answer,
Journey of the Zen.
In timeless pursuance, The Divine Sculptor
Has been perfecting the Zero,
Voiding the total void.
You live in quintus teal’s home.
Every time I see, I try to touch you, but fail.
I live in a limited three dimension.
The timeless existence,
The lifeless incarnate and the ultimate void,
I am Shiva.
Somewhere the sun is lost,
Moon is yet to find its way,
The inebriated clouds running amok; the dark sky weeps.
She kissed him,
And I tasted the bitterness of
Betrayal.
Afraid of what I may see,
I am afraid of the history of the future,
Frozen mind.
Whether they exist or not,
There is neither any truth nor any falsehood.
To the Zen – it is the same.
In an unstable chaos,
The monk finds stable equilibrium,
Thoughts center of gravity at the center of Zen.
Time, just a pause,
That every thing does not
Happen all at once.
Genesis, taking place in timeless nirvana.
It was there and not there,
Always and never.
Is this life as queer as others suppose?
The Monk finds it even queerer,
Finding what it is.
No smile like yours,
As beautiful,
Has been as treacherous.
The monk lives the life of a lone star
150 billion lightyears away, antigravity pulling all apart.
Living in absolute zero.
The dark energy; no form, no qualities, no attributes,
The effulgent cause behind everything,
Never was a time, it did not exist.
The immanent reality behind every thing,
The cause that sustains effects,
You are the beginning and you are the end.
Will you, the migratory bird from across the oceans,
trace your path back,
To the empty nest you left?
Living between being and non-being
In the ivory tower of solitude, unalloyed mind,
Imbued in the quiet ecstacy of nirvana.
A faster Achilles, though every moment
Coses the distance by half,
The slow tortoise of Nirvana still is unreachable.
Deduct everything you know,
And you don't know - from the space.
A formless, definitionless void.
Timeless Shiva, without any element,
The ultimate void, the supreme nothing,
Lifelessness incarnate.
He begins where limits of knowledge ends,
Knowledge of limits begins,
He is beyond knowledge and limits.
What worh is self of,
Nothing - in relation to infinity.
Every thing - in relation to nothing.
You touched my life,
For a momentary point,
Like a tangent kissing a curve.
No reason, no laws.
No faith, no belief,
Love denounces all, embraces all.
Your tears trickled down your cheeks.
My dreams were,
Washed away in flood.
Tangled tresses coverning my face at night,
Softly carassessing,
To welcome purified rays dribbling through.,
He lives in the quantum universe
Like the Schrodinger’s cat
Alive and dead at the same time.
From being to becoming
Life’s journey
To acquire a form of being nothing.
The tempestuous force of dark psyche
Starving of realities, living on illusions
Unruly mind wanders everywhere, yet nowhere.
He created the void,
Where matter and anti-matter keep forming
And destroying each other to nothingness.
Drunk in rain, the moon
Sleeping under the blanket of cloud,
Oblivious to the thunder and lightning outside.
Who decides the divine ratio,
Where to pluck the monochord to give the perfect fifth,
The most powerful and evocative notes.
The cage is being flown across the sky,
But I am caged inside;
Freedom in exile!
The key to the greatest treasure,
Kept locked in the chest,
Where lies the greatest treasure of life.
The cuckoo’s song echoing and re-echoing
In the misty dark night, keeps
The heaven alive in the world of my dreams.
One lone cuckoo, willingly invisible, its songs transcend
From all mountains, all around,
Hushes my cries of despair and makes me sleep,
Am I left alone or I chose to be alone –
A mute point to argue, don’t even need my
Nebulous shadow as my disturbing company.
Cuckoo’s lullaby makes me sleep,
Telling me I need to start from where I left.
Its tireless singing and my journey – synced by the heavens.
Mere words, coming from her – passion,
Mere words – coming from her – love’s nectar
Mere words – coming from her – arrow with poison.
To my deaf ears, her songs are the most mellifluous,
To my blind eyes, she is the most beautiful creature,
To my numb fingers, she feels the warmest and softest.
What was denied in the past,
Was found useless when begotten.
For the monk, sour and sweet grapes are all alike.
Future cannot be based on past,
Any time, anywhere, any moment,
There may be a quantum jump – negating all that is in the past.
Slow measured spets as I walk out of the hospital corridor
In the wee hours. How many of them, lying in side;
Will see the morning bright sun?
Those flayed edges and cracking folds,
The purple pink paper turned grey over time....
But what about what you promised on it?
In time space relativity,
Your image shrunk to a nondescript point.
My calls – a murmur and my presence a state of non-existence.
Gusts of wind rushed in,
All the sheaf of papers with haikus for you, flew away in the wind.
Will it carry them to you?
You could disprove all laws with your love,
You could make time stop and everything beautiful snatched from destiny,
Your kiss breathed immortality in my love.
Not relative to time,
His mind collapsed to a point, where
Past, present and future exist simultaneously.
My biography would have no words,
Pages filled with spilled ink,
Formless, shapeless objects meaning nothing, all in black.
My biography has no words, nor any hieroglyphics,
Just filled with spilled ink,
Formless, shapeless objects meaning nothing.
Tears of longing never dry up,
Hushed sobs,
But the heart is parched like a desert.
In the mirrored room of Shosenkyo, a countless “me”.
Each searching for the real “me”
Including the real “myself”.
The lonely nightingale
Fills the silence of night,
With its song of loneliness to give me company.
Cuckoo’s heart-rending melody of night,
Gets drowned in the
Glee of raucous blare of crows in the morning.
The potter is finding out what clay is
To empathize with,
Every shape and structure he creates with them..
Unchartered sea, no navigation tools,
No destination to sail for,
The wanderer sails aimlessly. Journey is the destination.
Mount Fuji floats in the cloud
The monk meditating in it,
And his mind are absolutely still.
The wise monk recognizes who is inside the temple
And also outside,
His temple spreads much beyond the stone building.
The book with secrets of life is in the safe,
Along with the key to it.
Zen’s catch 22 situation!!
Pythagoras’ monochord, plucked
A pure note spills all over and invades the
Universe signalling his presence.
