The Obsidian Eagle's Blasphemous Bazaar

Vedic vs. Tantric Hinduism (Mythic May Vol. 8)

2012-05-27T06:34:00.000-04:00

Vedic vs. Tantric Hinduism

Author's Note: This article is in reference to The Soma Tantra

Differences and disagreements among religious factions don't mean that spiritual truths don't exist but that we as humans can't communicate very well.

If you study any religion enough (whether Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism or Buddhism etc) you soon discover that even within it nobody can agree.

Similarly, Hinduism is a blanket term for several strains of Indian philosophy that focus on particular deities and what they represent, without uniformity.

Some Hindu sects reflect the Vedic caste system brought by Aryan invaders while others represent the folk beliefs of Indus Valley Dravidians.

Historically a process of syncretism (merging) occurred between Vedic and Dravidian beliefs, giving rise to the rich panoply of Hindu polytheism.

Since 'Hinduism' bears the influence of disparate schools of thought, there still exists a sociological friction between Vedic and Tantric strains of it.

Class struggles borne out by the traditional Varna caste system as well as between various ethnic groups are hidden within the subtext of mythology.

In Hinduism Brahma and Vishnu tend to represent Aryan-Vedic ideals / morals whereas Shiva and Kali are Tantric-Dravidian forces of untamed freedom.

Followers of Vishnu are thus referred to as Vaishnavas while Shiva worshippers are called Shaivas or Shaivites. Shakti (divine femine) outweighs Brahma (creator).

This friction between Vedic and Tantric ways of thinking / acting were also represented by the ancient Greeks in their Apollo-Dionysus dichotomy.

The Soma Tantra portrays said friction between Vedic and Tantric Hinduism as a war between Devatas and Ashuras (gods / demons, respectively).

Only those who can delve beneath the surface of a fantastic tale can penetrate through to the deepest layer of any given mythic narrative.

Further Reading: Past Issues of Mythic May

Meditating On The Fields of Naraka (Mythic May Vol. 7)

2012-05-18T23:37:00.000-04:00

Meditating On The Fields of Naraka

Skandha, son of Shiva Mahadeva, sits firmly lodged in samadhi

Awoken to the harsh reality of suffering amid ephemeral qualia

A world set ablaze by impure desires and all our best intentions

Charnels filled with piled-up corpses felled in war, famine or plague

Endless transmigration of finite souls learning lessons for ascension

During darkest times concentrate on those awful fields of Naraka

Pain is a purifier, an agent of both Karma and Dharma

Everything experienced is reciprocal; always balancing out

Noone is altogether righteous or evil, innocent or to blame

This plenum of open-ended possibilities refines sentient life

Cosmic Christ within is perpetually nailed onto crosses

Transcending death despite misleading appearances

Skandha bearing heat from flames, transmutes it to bliss

Defying, nay, redefining unassailable natural laws

Cracked universal egg now makes way for a phoenix . . .

Further Reading: Past Issues of Mythic May

Balam Ahau (Lord Jaguar) Mythic May Vol. 6

2012-05-11T13:06:00.001-04:00

Balam Ahau

Seated aboard bus with arms across chest

It suddenly dawned

That Jaguar as worshipped by the ancients

Was an ideal

A visionary fusion of all that is noble in ape

And feline alike.

The unmitigated ferocity and stealthy mobility

Of Totemic biped

Unflinchingly attentive reptile, crafty coyote

Chimeric eclipsed sun

Whose illustrious wingspan brightens emblazoned

Against the moon.

Prowling through mortality with vigilance

Every act dignified

Growling only when necessity dictates

Amidst backdrops espied

Trailing zigzaggurat lightning ricochets off

Edges of mind.

Further Reading: Past Issues of Mythic May

Pot-Bellied Buddhas (Mythic May Vol. 5)

2012-05-04T18:15:00.000-04:00

Pot-Bellied Buddhas

Buddhism is still fairly new in modern North America and Europe.

As such, it's also misunderstood and misrepresented in the media.

For one thing, people have come to associate Budai with Buddha.

What's the difference? Well, Budai was a fat Chinese monk

Who it's said travelled the countryside with a sack (like Santa).

In other words, he wasn't Siddhartha Gautama, the historic Buddha.

The confusion that gives rise to this misconception is simple:

Like Christ, which is an honorary title meaning "Anointed One"

Buddha means "Awakened One" and this title has been given to many.

Some believe Budai (Hotei in Japanese) was an incarnation of Maitreya.

It doesn't matter though since Siddhartha Shakyamuni preceded him.

So those who rub Budai's belly for good luck are only indulding in superstition!

Images (from top to bottom-right): Laughing Budai Maitreya - circa 10th Century CE, Gandharan Buddha - circa 1st Century CE & Emaciated Buddha (Sikri Stupa) - circa 1st Century BCE.

Further Reading: Past Issues of Mythic May

Life Itself IS Poetry!

2012-04-27T08:03:00.001-04:00

Life Itself IS Poetry!

Poets are just puppets for the muses

Parrots whom inspiration confuses

Their admirers? Mute and deaf.

A surface bubbles but from its depth!

Oh blind watchmaker - grand architect

Both male and female without defect:

Your voice resounds through either Astro or Astral realms

Those attuned feel that divine tremor, which overwhelms

Your body the very Being of us but minor cells

As well as cosmic conflagrations in galactic swells

Any writer falters; every prophet fails

To describe your aspects within countless tales

From out of Multiverse comes an infinity of verses

Atoms forming organisms that this planet nurses

Yet sophistic thinking fosters oversight

Despite beautiful dancing — umbrae obscure light

Though if perception's doors were cleansed

Eternity would we witness thence

Beyond space, outside of time

Note these stanzas always rhyme . . .

Image: Maha-Vishnu dreams in the causal ocean (Multiverse), as he exhales each pore breathes out a universe and when he inhales they are all annihilated.

Atheism: The Lesser of Two Evils?

2012-04-14T07:27:00.000-04:00

Atheism: The Lesser of Two Evils?

Atheism is little more than an opposite and equal reaction to Theism

In other words: its Antithesis.

Yet a dialectic should exist wherein these polar extremes may be reconciled.

Even if not, let us examine a couple of points of contention between them . . .

For one thing most Atheists claim to rely on Science for insight into Reality.

However, it's often clear from their rhetoric that they haven't kept pace with recent developments.

Few seem to be aware that the founding fathers of Quantum Physics wrote some rather mystical essays.

Albert Einstein, Max Planck, Werner Heisenberg and Erwin Schroedinger were NOT Atheistic

Just as Science isn't a static institution that has already answered our deepest questions.

Contrary to what many positivists / materialists believe much is still hotly debated within academic circles.

Furthermore, Consciousness Studies are newer fields of growing interest that keep yielding significant findings.

Skeptics ignore groundbreaking research from mavericks such as David Bohm, Dean Radin, James H. Austin, and Rick Strassman.

In short, Atheists quote scientific 'scripture' only where it's convenient like creationists do.

Second, a common accusation Atheists level against Religion is that it's responsible for centuries of bloodshed.

This is definitely true and (pardon the expression) heaven forbid any resurgence of fundamentalist fervour.

Nonetheless, this is also an instance of the teapot calling the kettle black.

Indeed the idea that reason and scientific progress can solve all our problems has been proven wrong.

Actually, it proved wrong following the Industrial Revolution, which brought us World War I & II.

To be sure, Science has remained subservient to global militarism since then.

In Academia they refer to this as the Failure of The Enlightenment, which gave rise to Post-Modernism.

For you see - Science without a functional Ethical framework derived from Philosophy is devoid of compassion.

Again proponents of Atheism gloss over these facts as Catholic Apologists do for the Spanish Inquisition.

Why? Simply because Atheism is as much a belief, a delusion and a dead end as are Theistic Religions.

Human Beings need to outgrow their need to take sides in dualistic dichotomies.

Neither side is ever wholly right!

But if we take the extant spectrum of evidence into consideration other options become clear.

Future Humans will attain such balance whether we manage it or not - so try to transcend!

"God" Was A Four-Letter Word . . .

2012-03-11T22:01:00.001-04:00

"God" Was A Four-Letter Word . . .

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." ~ John 1:1

Yet nobody asks what that word (Greek: Logos) was!

It sure as hell wasn't the Danish / Dutch / Germanic iteration everyone is fond of these days: God.

The Christians of Byzantium (founded by Constantine) to whom ALL contemporary believers in Jesus Christ owe their creed had rather different names for our so-called Lord.

Going back further to the Hebrew Torah, it was forbidden to speak the tetragrammaton (four letters: YHWH from where Jehova is derived), which left out any vowels - thus confounding pronoun.

There's immense wisdom in that approach because how could an all-powerful Being be reduced to a few mere syllables, becoming sullied by mortal speech?

Unfortunately, due to the diversity of human languages, most arguments as to the existence or nature of God are really disagreements concerning preferred signifiers.

As a result, religious fundamentalism actually restricts spiritual evolution through its dogmatic use of linguistic concepts that people become emotionally attached to.

Being a Philologist, Friedrich Nietzsche was aware of the above and hence famously declared that "God is dead", since he saw people not worshipping divinity directly but only going through empty motions.

In fact, many Post-Modern thinkers have accused the whole Western philosophical tradition of "Logocentrism"; an incurable obsession with that primal WORD leading to centuries of conflict.

The truth is that God / Allah / Yahweh / Krishna (whatever) is simply beyond the scope of finite thought and most certainly ineffable. Now we have entered a new millennium and it no longer serves anybody to fight over such names!

Echoes of Emptiness

2012-03-02T14:24:00.000-05:00

Echoes of Emptiness

"Form is no other than Emptiness and Emptiness is none other than Form." ~ Heart Sutra

People love to spout this quote without having the slightest inkling about Madhyamika Buddhism.

Emptiness is the highest truth in Madhyamika (middle-way) Buddhism but it doesn't mean nothingness as nihilists think; it means Interdependence.

Emptiness and Interdependence have many definitions. Basically, nothing can be said to arise alone or exist solely from its own side. As for eternal essences? None can be observed anywhere at any time!

Basic example of Emptiness: Sight does not occur without something to see just as the existence of perceivable objects is affirmed when they are seen. Neither comes first since they arise mutually.

Madhyamika points to a conciliatory middle-path between opposite extremes that are normally thought of as mutually exclusive. Polarized thinking is dualistic and hence mistaken.

Many Buddhists consider a proper understanding of Sunyata (Void / Emptiness) to be the highest realization attainable, equivalent to enlightenment itself.

Emptiness is known as Mayavadi (Voidist) philosophy by various Hindu schools of thought that reject it as Atheism. They need a personal deity to latch onto and so cannot intuit the merit of Sunyata.

This is due in part to a purely intellectual understanding of the concept, which is not enough. Without regular meditative practice, Sunyata cannot actually be experienced and so fails as mere theory.

Contrary to common belief, Buddhist Sutras on Emptiness do not assert that the universe is an illusion. That is another type of dualism reconciled by the doctrine of Two Truths.

These Two Truths are flip-sides of a coin. On one hand, material manifestation is regarded as 'provisional' or constantly shifting. However, this doesn't mean that laws of physics don't apply.

On the other hand, ultimately reality is transcendental to the first yet includes and encompasses it. Form is Emptiness and Emptiness is Form, remember? Neither more real nor important.

Indeed, Arya Nagarjuna similarly wrote "There is not the slightest difference between Samsara and Nirvana." Cyclic existence and Emptiness ARE each other!

Those who think that the universe is an illusion are in the same boat as those that view God as being outside of creation and not within it.

It's not our universe that is illusory but the scummy perceptive lenses that we view it through. Physical reality though fluctuating is quite sacred.

No doubt perception molds reality to a great extent but the fundamental matter / energy thereby molded is very real or even better said: Ethereal.

From holy visions to hallowed sounds - the whole spectrum of sensorial experience - these are all Echoes inside Emptiness!

Evol Psych & Heart Symbolism

2012-02-14T08:22:00.000-05:00

Author's Note: For more on origins of the iconic heart symbol see this -> Article.

Evol Psych & Heart Symbolism

The likeness of a voluptuous female form in symbolic hearts

Has been noted by many who point out their rounded curves

Along with vital redness, insinuating blood's inherent passion

Vulgar though it may seem to most people at first glance

From the vantage point of any Evolutionary Psychologist

There is nothing nonsensical about this choice of emblem

In nature (especially among our closest primate cousins)

Sight and scent of feminine posteriors are signal enough

For mating contests between male members of a species

How apropos that our sign for Love should reflect Life

Subconsciously heterosexual men crave genetic cloning

Blessed be those women who permit them to regenerate

Metaphysics of Money

2012-02-05T01:00:00.000-05:00

An Economist? "A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing." - Oscar Wilde

Metaphysics of Money

That interplay between Ideas and Reality is among the most overlooked and least understood processes in all existence; a mutual arising of Phenomenon together with Noumenon.

Paper / Digital Money (like any other currency) is both Real and Ideal. Its tangible qualities alone are worthless but credited with human conviction it becomes Purchasing Power.

Ergo, the actual value of Money or any currency lies in immaterial realms (Noumena) and from there draws its capacity to influence all material (Phenomena).

It's important to understand this hybrid nature of currency as a method of exchange. Being both Real and Ideal, Money can manipulate matter and mind to an equal extent.

Surely, Money's hybridity is not lost on members of the global oligarchy who rely on it to dominate mass mentality as well as vast resources.

Money itself may be inert but our ideas about property, ownership and possession corrupt its use. We begin believing that everything can be bought / sold.

To say that money is the root of all evil is a classic understatement, for it may as well be the Devil's own blood coursing through human veins.

Indeed, Money is the sole cause of extortion, exploitation, famine, human or drug trafficking, arms trade and war. Anyone who thinks otherwise is undoubtedly naive.

It's also no wonder that the rich keep getting richer and the poor even poorer, since they're already in control of the economic-political system and alter its rules for their advantage.

Inequality and iniquity are built into Capitalism because it's a form of Social Darwinism in which only the financially 'fit' can keep acquiring wealth.

In debt to such Ideas, ours is a society of willing slaves, chasing a carrot they'll never catch and trustful of deceitful masters who rob them blind amid applause.

However, people around the planet have begun realizing how much strength we possess if we put petty differences aside to overhaul our world's Economy and Democracy.

There's nothing really tying us to age-old power structures apart from our own compliance. If everyone pulled out and rebelled at once we'd be unstoppable.

A moneyless society sounds frightening and impossible because we've been conditioned by commercialism our whole lives. Still, viable alternatives (other than Communism) do exist.

Future generations looking back will see this as the moment in history when we turned the tide against all that has kept humanity suffering in the dark for millennia. Awaken and Arise!

Black Flag - Obsidian Eagle

2012-01-28T15:03:00.000-05:00

Black Flag - Obsidian Eagle

The Bald Eagle of your forefathers has come to represent

Those exploitive and treacherous oligarchs within White House

Stars their military might; Stripes are but bars locking tight

Banks be cathedrals for Capitalism

The Dollar, Pound and Euro are Eucharists

Stock brokers and lenders, a priesthood of vendors

So take to the streets and fly black banners high

Remind them that Revolution is a thorn at their side

Freedom good reason why many died and still die

This darkest of Eagles shall soar with you then

Anarchic flags its feathers floating upon wind

They would have our wills bend but we focus like Zen!

ItzQuauhtli's Prophecy

2011-12-23T07:30:00.000-05:00

ItzQuauhtli's Prophecy

Forged in the sun's heart, his feathers slates of antimatter

ItzQuauhtli was recognized as a reflection of great, cosmic Eagle

Which North-American Natives called: Thunderbird

Analogous to Horus in Egyptian lore; whose eyes are sun and moon

Or Garuda in Hinduism, with Vishnu riding atop his back

Like Mercury (closest to solar sphere), he served as swift messenger

The Aztecs associated this Eagle with Huitzilopochtli - war god and patron of art

Sent to Earth late during the Fifth age, he heralded Quetzalcoatl's return

While also warning that it would come hand-in-hand with Tezcatlipoca's release

Sadistic twin / trickster, Bolon Yokte is present at both creation and destruction.

A Priori Expressions

2011-04-29T01:00:00.018-04:00

Currently Reading:

A Priori Expressions

On Earth there be no dearth of calumny

Living statues assume impromptu postures then wither withal

As cliffhanger moss wilts above hungover forests

Whole, literal mackerel turns to figurative doggerel

Iconic images are re-presented in negative modalities

Totalities that boast ultimate truth found fraught with technicalities

Why the nerve exhibited by verbs is naught but loaded phonemes

Worst of all these? Verse! Spewing out terse blurbs from human mouths

Versifiers conniving smother significance deep beneath egoistic utterance

Happenstance may deliver any essence though purely perchance

Sky has fallen many times prior, so pick up its pieces and do try again

Jet lagged intuition cannot hark elision; unable to see purpose despite vision

The Nexus of The Next

2011-04-22T05:52:00.001-04:00

Currently Reading:
Indian Demonology - The Inverted Pantheon

The Nexus of The Next

What's next? Who's next? Where next?

We're caught ever in "The Next"!

Though our landscape is always shifting

There are none thus come nor gone.

Solipsistic lapse undergoing therapy

Palpitating fixity upon imaginary center

Prehensile cogitation clutches straws

Solidified Reality a panoptical descriptor

Latter day saints utter draconic decrees

Wise canonical inscriptions go unheeded

Learn early on that pain be par for course

Wistful linking of meaning to rhetoric bores

Where next? Who's next? What next?

Flounder clever yet perplexed

Sought but not found within text

A moving landmass unannexed!

[ May wit lend levity whence gravity weighs down one's ways ]

Doctrine of Anatta (No-Self)

2011-04-15T16:34:00.022-04:00

Currently Watching:

Author's Note: For anyone who might like a more comprehensive explanation of "Anatman", the following article encapsulates it rather well: The Atomic Mandala – Part 4 – Anatman

Doctrine of Anatta (No-Self)

- I -

What is the Self?
Where is the Self to be found?
Who is that Self we seek?
Is it dry (this Self)?

Never. Always. It is and yet isn't.
Clever. Stupid. Absolute but relative.
Simultaneous in thought though not present even once.

Is elusive to one's mind as evasive to our words.
Dare not pretend ye know anything concrete about it.
Don't stand upon authority; assume no final stance.

Hence dive back into Atlantis. Sink down beneath thy Self . . .

Flex effort, effort, effort
Lather, rinse, wash off those stains!
Yes, only effort, threefold effort
Can glean what such a mystery contains.

- II -

Hey now, who's that?
Living, going, gone!
Playing hide and go seek
Can't quite put a finger on -

Who's escaping past perception?
Who's perceiving an escape?
Never the same twice for anyone to call it constant.
Dead or dying, Being reborn

During every moment but with gaps.
Shallow and impermanent; still we try holding on tight.
Hands of haze for rising tides

Won't even hold a single drop.

So just flow dear Comatose
Like, with, and as the ocean
Quit pretending at forevers
Void all ego then just flow . . .

Image: Bond of Union by M.C. Escher

Qualified Non-Dualism

2011-04-08T10:29:00.029-04:00

Currently Reading:

Qualified Non-Dualism

Everything comes together
Folding back in on itself
As depth perception deepens
One-dimensional lucidity dawns in dreamt sky
Bathing sense faculties with an absolute clarity

The edges of perception are defined by limited awareness
But now basic consciousness reasserts its boundlessness
Attention engulfs whole body-mind spectrum
Stretching out among forms from within amorphous fullness
Ardor strong in both ascending and descending evolutionary currents

Breath ignites blood to animate pneuma
Poised at perfect equilibrium
Where all aspects weave a cognitive pattern
Working integrated system properly interpreting
Glowing movements through either implicit or explicit orders of Being

Meta-Poetics Vol. 2: Prophetic Conflations

2011-04-01T00:45:00.006-04:00

Currently Watching:

Author's Note: This is the first follow-up for a series that commenced on new year's day. Original post can be found here (beware, it's a doozy): http://www.obsidianeagle.com/2011/01/meta-poetics-vol1-antipoetic-rhetoric.html

Meta-Poetics Vol. 2: Prophetic Conflations

As the Ubermensch is to Homo Sapiens, so shall AntiPoets become for Poets
Escapees from that vapid madhouse centered around a cult of personalities
Exodus wandering into wilderness where tumble-words drift through desert
Then those vainglorious bardic bastards vanish vanquished via just dessert
Their successors will incorporate same techniques but expand beyond them
Creatively subverting what held inordinate esteem among subordinate soles
Never apologizing to any sounder for hanging pearls high over swine heard
Even at farthest futures these verses are misread; echoes deafened scholars
Append another end until disappointing childhood notebooks are unearthed
Anonymity and public apathy afford a cover much better than the night itself
Explanandum sans explanans demands lifted arms lie surrendered in defeat

Cosmic Clock Strikes Eleven

2011-03-31T17:38:00.093-04:00

Currently Reading:

Cosmic Clock Strikes Eleven

At last it's high time to accept

That the Gregorian calendar founded upon a mythological Christ

And whose holy dates were superimposed onto Pagan rites

Has put us out of phase with our planet as well as all else

"Supermoon" at perigee
Signifies an era's end
NASA spots exploding galaxy
Coincidence or portend?

Every day another cataclysm
As the countdown grows intense
Increased consciousness a catalyst
Will it ever bear us hence?

Blister packed sedation
Dystopic governments push on
Flawed Capitalist equation
When shall we witness brave new dawn?

Pluto renders elder powers inept
Yet Moloch masticates most morbid zeitgeist
Famine, drought and plague (to name but few blights)
Only former angels are fit to tread through these fell hells

Dilutions of Splendor

2011-03-18T21:26:00.000-04:00

Currently Reading:

Dilutions of Splendor

May finally have cracked
But Etinbroke's seated here
Smoking slims from ivory holder
Wrapped up in wispy metaphors - she dreams as if she slept.

Could be wrong
But Etinbroke admonishes:
"Remain firm and irreproachable
it isn't princely to be fallible - so reject all human doubt!"

One thin eyebrow raised inquisitively
She sifts through Tarot with free hand
Singeing this fool's ego with her steady sapphire gaze
From center spread draws out a card dubbed STRENGTH.

"Behold, that which was misplaced
among the rubble of spent youth.
Conferred back now as your gall reaches an end
lessons have been learned that portend glorious new days."

Perhaps she's but a figment
But her glory-talk rings true
For one whose lust was sublimated surreptitiously at night
Within the vacuous wellspring of ineffable omniscience.

Although possibly a daemon
She knows these insides like no other.
Together we shall accomplish things few mortal men can fathom
A preeminent contrarian, overseen by astral madam.

Querulous Quanta

2011-03-11T17:36:00.012-05:00

Currently Reading:

Querulous Quanta

Where hath thou gone, entangled phantom particle?

Our magnetic dipoles now spin out of sync

Once we were non-local as well as atemporal

Transcending bounds of space-time continuum

Yet liminal constraints inhibit subatomic orbits

Macroscopic systems become subject to entropy

Force of ill-bred habits subdues all organisms

Thought overtaking Consciousness by quantity not quality

Feeling lost within false realms - stunted, numb and mute

Lower beings must learn transmutation from raw elements to higher Ether

It is presently passing; make good on this opportunity or else face extinction!

Image: Doctor Manhattan from Watchmen

We Are Not Our Eidolons

2011-03-01T00:28:00.082-05:00

Currently Reading:

We Are Not Our Eidolons

In an ideal world we would all see clearly into each other's psyches

Whether Cancer, Capricorn, Ram or Virgo

Without needing to get too verbal

But formulaic emotion tinges what might have otherwise been clear

Ah the gifts of hypocrisy in a wayward democracy

Constitution ruptured atop foundational mores

Wherefore such typical tragedy?

Stock responses perfunctory

Adjudication in lover's court

A dismal dreg deemed exemplary

While seized by composer's grand symphony, one's broken lens gives false report

Bodhisattva Curse

2011-02-28T00:17:00.033-05:00

Currently Reading:

Author's Note: Some hard-liners may take this poem's title too seriously but it is rather tongue-in-cheek since by definition Bodhisattvas are elevated beings who furnish everyone else with inexhaustible compassion and are therefore incapable of pronouncing such a curse. However, a true Tantrika can balance on either edge of truth's sword.

Bodhisattva Curse

Gullible little automatons,
rolled fresh off an assembly line
with one billion more behind . . .

You will wander all six Bardos until this universe collapses
and be among the last sentients to cross the ocean of conditional existence
unto supreme Parinirvana.

Dream lives of untold sorrow and shame
First memory the end and final memory beginning
Moebius, Ouroboros,
Tabula Rasa and Eternal Recurrence
Deja-vu
Astral Projection
Fake Awakenings

Death and Rebirth everlasting.

Reverberate toward Stillness — or you simply wont stand a chance!

Image: Yamantaka Yidam (signifying the victory of wisdom over death, evil and suffering).

Un Lourd Secret by Guest Bard Sunil Narayan

2011-02-18T22:57:00.001-05:00

Writer's Bio: Sunil Narayan's work has been a long, enriching journey that absorbed the world's eccentricities to create a masterpiece of color, surrealism and human sentiment. The past two years witnessed a climatic moment in which his writing churned out many emotion-inducing poems. It is his intent to help people access feelings that they rarely get to experience.

This is the third part of three in a running series during February.

Un Lourd Secret

Mdvanii spoke to her brushed chienne when he
whimpered at the sight of a still empty bowl: “Il est
toujours par voie de douleur que l'on arrive à plaisir”
To be given grapes and bread is a reward not a
privilege
One must starve for as long as his master deems fit
Mdvanii is the master of all couturiers!

Her coiled black whip is made from the skin of
deceased orphans
Oiled each day by her esclave’s sweat
It shines under the dusty ceiling light
With one lash she frightens her shivering putain

Aldric begs for a lengthy bruising by the chipped
paddle
Unfortunately, Mdvanii will not relax her firm hold
on his body this time
She is in control of the narcissistic esclave’s ego
Its skin is punctured by the heels of her ruby-studded
shoes

A few nights ago it dawned on her: great pleasure can
be achieved if one walks all over this vermin’s chest
Ripping bits off the skin with her glue-covered red
heels
He will scream as a torrent of blood flows down his
chest
A poor old German seamster being forced to endure
heightened torture!

Dragged by his owner across the muddy floorboards
Aldric’s hair is pulled harder with each grunt
The scalp rips off an unwashed head every time!
Mdvanii reminds him a good designer never succumbs
to arrogance: afin de connaître la vertu,
nous devons d'abord nous familiariser avec le vice

The room is made out of solid steel to keep the crying
of a belittling artist sealed

It is un prostitué’s screams of enlarged pleasure
drowning out the neighbor dogs’ barking
Mdvanii puts cotton balls in her ears when the nipples
of her fat cochon are stretched to the waist by two short
chains with unpolished hooks
This toy is attached to a block of cement stained covered
with his tears

Aldric cleans dirt off the floor with his tongue, exposing
his scarred derrière
His chest swells and dries till skin sags from the bones
A pêche freshly picked from the nobleman’s garden
becomes mushy right before the farmer’s eyes
Perhaps Mdvanii is a domestique, tilling the soil of
centuries worth of bitter pride

It must be broken and put back together so the world
will lower their heads in respect
Flaming torches shall no longer melt the king’s palace!
Instead, they will turn on the noblemen for betraying
their loyal domestiques!
Preaching of false notions for an ideal reality

A calm muse sits in her chair to read a newspaper on
politics
She is interested in the behavior of noble rulers and
tyrants
To her their power lay in the twisting and beautifying
of the people
Everyone becomes a victim of another person’s ignorant
mind or the partaker in the fruits of carefully constructed
labor

It is a world so tightly wound yet absorbing all the
sweets and stale bread one can get their hands on
Functioning as a monstrous machine with oil flowing
from one end of the pipe to the other
Devouring the human essence as if it were un gâteau
aux fraises
A field covered in white balls of joy disappear with
each grab: l'ordre social au détriment de la liberté n'est
guère une bonne affaire

Our dear Antonia tortured by self-destructive authority

A poor Austrian girl who simply wanted to fit in
No one could stand looking at the images of her dressed
luxuriously like Déesse Vénus
She was a symbol of unfiltered disgust

The clock struck midnight and Mdvanii must retire to
her opal chamber
She bids goodnight to Déesse Diane for her friend
Remains hushed when the screams of Aldric fill
fill the foggy streets of Paris
He finally falls asleep despite having not been fed
scraps of old sandwiches

Our grande dame never tires herself of debasing elite
couturiers
She is a humbled secret covered in diamond dresses
Only those with greedy claws can unveil the violent
nature of a cursed muse
If they are daring enough to rip her skin off that is!

Nearly a century ago, her dominating Charles died
leaving her empty of satisfaction
He taught her to be quiet and grateful for his kindness
In her heart she always yearned for the excitement all
women experience when visiting a new boutique de
marque: lecteurs sensual excédentaire pitié chez
l'homme
It is the only jewel she held onto during her escape
when he lost himself in glasses of bière

Mdvanii begin to hop from couturier to couturier, noticing
the chic girls were too involved in their looks
Their blue purses and fur-coats were the new trend of
Paris
Decades ago, all of a sudden a rainbow splashed the
imagination
Everyone had to own velvet gloves with gold sewn
into the edges or shoes adorned with a diamond rose
on the front

Mdvanii sighed in disappointment at how obsessed
the city became with her new lover’s collections
There is more to life than luscious garments or jewelry
made of black pearls

By nature, it is her duty to dissolve the extravagant
culture imprisoning the wealthy people of Paris
The pain seamsters both grande and petit experienced
in the beginning is incomparable to the mutilation in
the end

She witnessed generations of couturiers indulge in
yards of bright fabrics made of crushed gemstones
for the sake of it
Smiling as domestiques dress them in silk and satin
when their money could be used to feed the starving
children
The artists of Paris no longer remember their simple
childhoods
For they excitedly jumped into the river of fame: ce
n'est pas mon mode de pensée qui a causé mon malheur,
mais le mode de pensée des autres

A Swan Who Wallows In Lotus Laden Ponds by Guest Bard Sunil Narayan

2011-02-11T02:06:00.009-05:00

This is the second part of three in a running series for February.

A Swan Who Wallows In Lotus Laden Ponds by Guest Bard Sunil Narayan

She walks into the banquet room of the Château de Versailles feeling out of place
Such a refined lady with skin as soft as a doe’s coat
Pearls that dangle above her swan-like neck
Eyes so tranquil, flutter like butterflies in a garden

A woman who floats from room to room unaware of everyone’s presence
They look into those lotus petal shaped eyes to see a secret world
Gardens stretching for miles fill the air with the scent of roses
Uṣás-Devī cannot help but inhale this sweet perfume

Radiant marigolds bask in the Sun’s warmth
Jasmine trees stand tall to give shade for all of Pṛthivī’s critters
They lay at the base sighing for amour had consumed them
A gazelle who once nestled at the feet of Pṛthivī-Devī is now an elegant lady

Yes! Suraiyā is the child of Pṛthivī-Devī
Her hands decorated in emerald rings have fingers that flow like the Gangā
So pure and gentle men have followed her around the world just to be caressed by those fingers
They are savages who have succumbed to the feminine power of an untainted goddess

Yet, why does she not look at these men?
At the far end of the room gourmet Indian dishes line up a long glass table
An aroma of mixed spices travels through the air
Men who smell it divert their eyes to Suraiyā

She stands before the table delighted by such a sumptuous feast
Her hands move towards the glass spoon dipped in the dāl bowl
Ashamed by bad manners Suraiyā pulls her hand back
The host who has been seduced by Suraiyā’s beauty tells her
it is quite alright

A smile transforms Suraiyā’s face like Uṣás-Devī bathing the world in light
Those eyes of her enchants the host, bringing him to his knees
His heart grew ten times with each pulse sighing in joy
A goddess has locked eyes with a humble king

An elegant lady created in the nest of the Pṛthivī-Devī looks into the eyes of many
The pain, the happiness, the frustration, the excitement, the joy!
These emotions are the colors in her gardens

And all men, women and children have their own inner gardens

Suraiyā’s lotus-petal eyes see the world’s inner beauty permeating all things
Even the Sky, an ocean for the Devás, is a jewel created by Pṛthivī-Devī!
Suraiyā’s śāṭī is fashioned from the Devás’ water
A long train from her shoulders floats above the floor as she walks around the room

All guests spend hours watching Suraiyā create a stream with her śāṭī
The scent of lilacs flows from the fabric into their noses
Śakra-Devá’s heaven cannot compare to the moment they are lost in!
A rarity in this world is locked away for centuries but comes out when humanity
has submerged in harmonious bliss

Mdvanii Stirs Her Lover’s Desire! by Guest Bard Sunil Narayan

2011-02-04T00:34:00.069-05:00

This is the first part of three in a running series for February.

Mdvanii Stirs Her Lover’s Desire!

The designers of Paris say Mdvanii is an immortal muse who lives in the heart of every artist
From her chair she imparts ideas to a grand couturier expecting nothing in return
Sitting on a silk seat containing the feathers of Zeús’eagle
The legs made from the crushed material of diamonds

She sees her master in all directions, a large man standing proudly
Yet, is trapped in a luxurious home with no one to keep her company
How can an emotional lady survive this arduous life?
Her enlarged heart and sophisticated walk enchanted the socialites of the city

Now, the reality of Mdvanii is a preserved muse for a demanding couturier
She looks upwards to see lust and creativity colliding
From such a powerful fight pearls strung with gold fall into her hands
A meager compensation for a sumptuous lady!

She sighs before changing into her evening dress
The spring season once blossomed like her marigolds
Surprising all who lounged at the saloons
As if Gaïa was splashed with the color of the forest trees!

In the corner of her room a closet with shelves perfectly lined with
shoes made from colors of the rainbow
Pink, blue, red, orange and yellow!
Each day she picks a pair to match her silk gloves
A string of pearls to tie around her waist, gold bracelets to place on her light wrists, and moonstone pins to hold her thick hair in a chignon

A refined lady has choices, choices and choices!
Twenty evening dresses made for the Queen of Norway hang from the hooks
They’re waterfalls of creamy colors from the Amazon jungles
For each one gold thread was sewn into the fabric to form a blossoming magnolia

As she puts on her heels Charles wraps a silk shawl made of crushed rose quartz
around her supple body
He adorns her smooth neck with a ruby necklace so long it rests between her breasts
She barely notices this sweet gesture while applying pink blush
Her eyes in the shape of the waning Selēnē are lost in serenity

A man who drinks to squash his guilt must continue to lavish his goddess with pieces befitting the Queen of the Universe!
Gemstones smuggled from India are crushed into light powder
He sprinkles it onto white strips of cloth then smoothes it out
Although, a doubt pricks his mind, making him feel guilty for doing a cruel deed

His clients knock on the rotting door of his studio demanding their garments
Charles shoos them away as if they are wandering beggars
His mind fixated on a refined woman entrapped in his heart
He gives her potent lust to taste yet Mdvanii rejects it

What seems to be the magnificence of couturier is in fact Mdvanii!
She runs along his arms tickling him
With one hand the resplendent muse blows blue petals into his mind
To her surprise the wind snatches her white hat snickering in delight

Mdvanii’s eyes turn red with bubbling anger
She’s a cat ready to pounce a taunting mouse!
On his sewing table a large red gemstone manifests
Cut in the shape of a tulip, its sharp edge is hardly noticeable
Passion gives it color for which Charles fixates on

He rubs the edge unaware of blood sliding down the treasure
Mdvanii plays her games without giving a reason
She is a muse of few words but her actions have a language of their own
Charles will never see her inner world for he was devoured by his own