Sunday, September 26, 2010

Eternal wonder

  The yellow sun
With golden hues
And spread of pink
Imbues the painting yonder.
In oneness
I see the Painter
In the radiant gold
And red alike.
One with the widespread sky
That power divine evokes
This panoramic view
The painter and the painting
In unison, become the colors.

(click on the images to enlarge them)  





These pictures were  taken along the 
North-South Highway - Taiping to Penang.

Posted for


©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 260910.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

The unfolding layers

 I
Twilight approaches without a warning
The sun sets fast with red golden colors
Darkness slowly rushes in to take the place
And, the night wishes to stay here for some time.
The corridor is so quiet, only my chair and I seated there
With strands of wishes unfulfilled and daunting memories
The mosquitoes buzz hard musicality, adds pain to ears
Life rolls non-stop with ubiquitous presence to mark its presence.

II
I try to decipher the language of life
Decryption of life?
My conscience began to ask
Yes, I try as might as I can, or possibly can
Each attempt to decrypt goes in vain
For every decryption becomes a deception
That traps me far deeper unto the web of my conscience.

III
I get up from the chair
With mindfulness my steps placed
Conscientiously I move myself
Forgetting everything that were in the past
Leaving the grip of everything that is going to be
I am now clothe in the present
I realize
I am decrypting life
I am learning to be alive
With the secrets embedded in life
Present unveils a little of the secret
The breathtaking mystery of time
The rest goes to make the life itself.


©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 250910







Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Nextime

Nextime?
Never trust the 'nextime'
For it may be too late
and the 'nextime' may never come.

If a word or two
In sorrowful request
Pays a visit to you
Never say 'nextime please'
For it may be too late.

That moment is this moment
not 'nextime'.
The soul comes to you
For a reason or two
Open the door of your heart
No matter if you lose a million in business
Because that million brings not the 'nextime'.

But, a paltry sum from that amount
in transaction can buy a wreath
a coffin or to pay the grave diggers
and place an obituary
and to say many good things.

Why?
Because that 'nextime'
Can mean anything, death too.



 ©cyclopseven.All rights reserved 220910

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Rooting in unity


Infrangibility of nature’s synchronicity
Pristinely rooted to the river
Quenching the thirst all the time
Strongly keeps the soil intact
Taming the turbulence for life to become.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 190910.

 


Saturday, September 18, 2010

Lust and Love

Lust a game
Love a stream.

By mind or emotion?
The border in between the two
Disappears in vagueness.

Lust a game
Always an ending.
Love a stream
Always a beginning.
Lust makes human
Love makes the divine
Between the two
The tussle goes on,

Non-stop!!


©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 180910.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Conflicts


ǝlʇʇǝs oʇ ƃuıuuıƃǝq ʇsnp ǝɥʇ
uǝʞɐʇ ʞlɐʍ ɐ ɟo lıɐɹʇ ǝɥʇ ƃɹǝʌoɔ
Between the trees and hills
Footsteps lie marking the stride.

Susurration heard indistinctly
Humankinds is just nearby, but,
In obscurity thoughts disturbing
Weave a net for a trapping.
Sooner or later, the place will be nearer
Scarcity of humanity scariest of all
Between the smiles and gentleness
Selfishness lurks with smoothened pace.

The walk slows me down a little
Why these conflicts arising within?
A question I posed to the bearer of this body
Knowing the fact well that I too in life dwell.
The road appears far and narrow
Though everything seems to get closer and wider
Again, I am lost in my erratic thoughts
World’s perfection is my greatest trepidation?

Nervousness seizes me thoroughly
A cold wind sweeps over my being, gently,
In obscurity thoughts disturbing
Weave a net for a trapping.

sʇɥƃnoɥʇ ɔıʇɐɹɹǝ ǝsoɥʇ ƃʌɐǝl 'puɐ
˙uoıʇɐɹɹnsns ǝɥʇ oʇ ƃuıuǝʇsıl ʞlɐʍ ʎɯ pǝnuıʇuoɔ ı


Copyright©cyclopseven. 140910.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Celestial Oneness

eyes strolled far, oblivious
of the glare and everything rare
the glorious beauty conquered it all
and my vision ends in meditation

i am one with 
the water below
and 
sky above.

cyclopseven© All rights reserved 120910.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Impastos


My eyes glued strongly
To the oil paint
Leaning against the wall.
I chuckle
No one around
Except for a slight breeze.

The impastos
Colorfully laid over the painting
Beautiful indeed each stroke.
Wish my thoughts were like impastos
Well applied livelier it makes the painting of life
And gazing eyes shall appreciatively pour praises
At each beautiful thought.
Thoughts negative
As ugly impasto can easily be scraped,
With painting knife,
For a new impasto
The thoughts ugly too can be removed.

Alas! it is just a wish
Akin impastos thoughts will never become.

cyclopseven© All rights reserved 100910.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Beautiful Postcard



Received this postcard on 09-09-10 from a blogger friend in 
New Zealand for a reason one can see by clicking the link below
http://dutchcorner.blogspot.com/2010/08/its-my-birthday.html

it is very beautiful
THANK YOU MARJA


Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Staircase to heaven



Acknowledgement 
Picture used with permission from Lakshmi Sharath


Copyright©cyclopseven.  All rights reserved 070910.

Sunday, September 05, 2010

Endlessness

Traveling through time
I pass through various events of life
Without least awareness of the journey
Because in time everything changes
Time does not.
As I grow in time
I perceive things differently
Each stage a revelation
And a vision renewed.
The mystery of time seeded in birth
Accompanies each throughout life
Crossing the five sensorial experiences
Leaving impression that moulds the thought.

I know I am the same entity from birth
Why must I feel the dearth,
And, revel continuously in my senses? 
Yet still contentment evades me often.
This endlessness is indeed a mystery
To speak of it, language flows not
To experience it, the mind wills not
The embrace it, the heart dares not
This endlessness is indeed a mystery.

In the sprouting seed
I see expansion passes gracefully
A gentle rise in time which carries patience
Sign of divine providence.
The seed vanished in time 
Swallowed by earth
Giving birth to a tree.
I pass by nonchalantly
With soul gripping senses
Time remains, I change.

As my somnolence continues
In stagnation without impunity,
Endlessness remains
Mysteriously beyond conception.

Cyclopseven © All rights reserved 050910.