people to check out

Teorema
interesting this film- was just released into the us, despite being made in 1968 or something. the director- has interesting take on sexuality- as passion. he was also homosexual.

Visitor Q Takashii Mike film

she is my hearts faintest touch
like ancient rivers drybed across the brown tierra
somewhere in my heart sleeps the closing of her eyes

the betal leaf across her forehead

she passes like an arrow through my heart

memories

it would be nice to have one of those balconies with a long scape over the top, like a canopy but complete so the rain does not get you wet . be nice to smoke a cigarette watching the rain come down all over. i enjoy those car rides when i was a child and would see the rain drops racing across the window.

love inside a woman trembles, that is why when leaving her child, her son- she cries; the stoic silence of man .. it is not greater than her , her mother nature, keep your ear close to the earth as you travel in life. infinite strength swishes inside the feminine power. it is within the man, but it sits like honey inside a rock. a mothers tears holds tremendous energy. men think their physical aptitude is adroitly derived. love is the fabric of creation. it is that the usual mind cannot grasp like the physicist who marvels at time, acceleration, and moving celestial bodies. behind the fabric of this creation is the eternal of love, the Beloved whose will holds the very atoms together. someday science will grasp that even the atom is infinity deep and that vibration energy is more subtle than just magnetic. in true essence, the motherhood of women is more deadly arsenal than bombs and weapons. when it manifests it has tremendous awakening potential. why is that men are prone to heart attacks and in frequency? women are shock-absorbers. inside a being is both aspects feminine and masculine, but when these are divinely touched they produce along side natural harmonious idiosyncrasies. feminine energy is the deep love within the being, that is the root of life,the child if before the age of five, is inflicted under tremendous negativity will have ever lasting effects. these karmic vibrations will last into their youth and adulthood. only the chance meeting of a divine soul, is a complete change in life's path- that is life moving the planets. it is not an exaggeration. the trouble with the lesser learned is that they make complicated choices ,but have vastly simply ideas on the deeper fine movements of life. the author of the Ramayana, is suspect to such intervention, to so call it. he was like commonly, told , a robber or thief who turned into a master prose man, in fact greater than any of the world. These epic tales, are more complex, longer, spiritually insightful than any historical parchment, or religious text. That tells scores about his accomplishment. Buddha too had a disciple who was a bandit. but there are more recent examples, great masters walk the earth, but only a handful have the karmic opportunity and insight to see them. they are not invisible neither glowing like in any depiction. it requires a fair amount - in a person to muster, the will to move spiritually. the heart has to be cleansed, from the age of time- which decays through the vices inherited by living . that is why so few have the subtle aural vibrations to detect great beings. a subtle being will recognize immediately , the great space inside such eyes. spirituality is dead to most of the world. if it is not hurled out to the mass media in new age concept books of old age wisdom, then its flash photography to iconography. that seed of love, lies every dormant inside every man . it does not simply take sprout, but by self-reflection, and mending along the arduous spiritual trek , finds oneself strong, from deep meditation, full of softness , [from the touch of a gentle master], and like fire, from association or satsang. the lion of the outside, and the flower on the inside has deeper connotations. by spiritual grace, the grace, of divine love- one achieves from effort and perspiration , the softness, the nectar of the Eternal Beloved, that is why most people do not know god as Beloved. they simply know or say a god. or this and that. in sufi poetry, in the hindu continent, you see the poetry and madness of divine ardour. these descriptions, these people are the only ones to have truly kissed the lips of the Divine Mother. they are not illusions or parables, trying to tell a story. they are trying to tell the divine through human interaction; that is why in the seven types of relationships all are expressed in their poertry. Sultan Bahu, from the punjab region, a great sufi saint, had such passionate and vivid lines. the blood that stains such a heart ! how few understand the tears that leave such eyes. how graced is the world, by such vibrations. A great master once said, it is the vibrations of all those people in the world, living simple lives spiritually, giving more than receiving, and loving all those who come in their path, those performing deep meditation and practices, giving alms , and having little to onself while in full radiance and happiness, it is these simple pure souls that hold the world together. their spiritual vibrations invigorate the atmosphere. this is not an elaborate construction . rain, moisture, air, these things are all affected by mantras- and all words, actions. mantras have to be careful about. out of context it is not beneficial. spirituality is a deep ocean of a subject. there are many things, while you travel, and only when you are traveling can you understand them. sitting at the post, wondering about the sights and reading about them, cannot give you the same experience nor does it elevate you. no one who as meet a true master, will openly tell you about them. that relationship is deep, an ever current in the divine lake, the pathway toward enlightenment. it must be gently prod from them for inside such a soul is a deep flower whose stalks grow the Master's name, and fondness that rides into the blood and moves out toxins. yogi's have been seen who are immaculately clean but have never bathes, whose teeth have not stained due to lack of harsh foods. the average person does meet them. would a great mathematician be excited to meet children who simply want to awe but not understand the subject he adores. no. that is why great beings are said to be shy. not of themselves, but the others. but like honey, they attract those who want to drink from her lake.

story part ii


the waves seemed to go on. blue after sky is all my blurry holes could peer out. a knife had pressed into my back. the third goon, the lesser of the uglier ones- he still had strange gashes and what looked the upkeep of a sailor lost at sea, without need for grooming. we still made metal shillets at the monastery i was at. a host of activity, soaps , brushes, metal tools, fillings, teeth, were crafted by men who spent means by such acquired to entertain themselves. and as i was thinking of the last hot meal, which had bubbled its last strength into that searing red gush across my shoulder, made clearly apparent in the golden light, that nothing was escaping that day. i gave out a large gulp of pain, as miserable teeth grinned in all lost recognition at me. only thing i knew that saved me, was the large black paladin cross across my neck. when the pirate saw that, all i remember was a loud clud from a black iron handle swing across my face and make a nasty sound. i woke up on the southeastern shore of what seemed to be quite piece and parcel of sand and tree. the bruises seemed to bathe in the sand filling cracks in between as i lay still watching the wind push a jetty far out into the fading sun. that cross which i had received from a black slave, was very unique. he said he got it on a pilgrimage to a very large space. space is what he said. he drew in the sand , a quick sketch of a temple, with a big steps leading down to the sanctorum. i had never seen it. but somehow i knew where it was. why it was represented on the swinging t on his neck. he said it was the true savior, that he found, and like the darkened skin that gave dawn to his eyes, was the same of he who born out the suffering . it was all very strange. when your drugged, beaten, and lack of hunger , what stories they tell to keep alive; i never did. never spoke much. had my tongue stabbed when i was eight by a rough muslim officer in the army passing through our town. it was a small town. but i had that day , had an incident.. which rioted the long beared man to act hastily, something i remembered.. for a long time.

we were sold on to that island has slaves. but for profit or flesh, most of those who they towed away did not make it to where they were meant to go. by my cross, i was made to be some red blood priest mixed up . mesquito i call it. the empires i would visit in later years will give testimony to this in the future. the knife that had come into my back now stepped forward into my thoughts. i had stabbed the large ugly scarred man with a long filing pole used to beat fish left in the boat , it had lent the hand free from her neck, and dive hard .

what does it mean when intelligence hits a certain affinity. for example takashi miike. his films are talked about, his style called subtle, deep whatever other horse of adjectives boqued. but his style has given something, talked about- because it has originated an art of personality and intense interest. i hope to give to art in some manner. to become accomplished for ones own satisfaction is a great regard, to get lost into the quagmire of this illusion upsets the talents.

story part i

In the drawback is lithuania. closely connected to the far part scandanvian provinces, and the eastern byzanitine empire, the southern roman, the western british, french and spanish influences. the isles to south , are the greco-empires expanding from the meditterean to the caspian sea. beyond that are large provinces, and vast empires that are beyond this travellers knowledge. this is the articles of Jean Sebastian Madurasatha. My ancenstry is unknown to my fellow inhabitants. and in fact, my place in this part of the world is a mystery. i shall tell you why.

Seven and half years ago, i started a pilgrimage with my fellow brethern monks. we left from the isles east of our homeland. very far east. how we ended up there is another tale. Only three of us made the voyage. it was not an honest one. One man was stabbed to death for his food, and both of them were thrown in to the water by another who found it profitable to take two shares. Three others were raped, robbed, and killed- one of them was a girl, i think she must have been younger than 10. she didnt speak, thats why. the ones who survived- me, how did i make it. well the ship capsized. the waves were going to sink all the slaves anyway. they knew it thats why they sent out all the weak , sick women and girls and men who were problematic to the ship. they wanted to poke fingers and laugh. i still remember the sweat that fell of my beard . it was sticky , red, not mine.

her blood reminded me of the purple onions i loved to sizzle in my home. it was a small clay pot we used, and brushed green leaves, from tender coconut palms. it sticked to my hands. i think the sailor with the ugly mark , like a left hoofed horse - he sent the girl coarsing on her way up. her head was tied up to a board i think , so she failed to move her gums or jaws.i dont remember much. i remember a knife going deep somewhere, watching her mouth affixiate with pain, and eyes like talons, or so i thought but a bird had came closer smelling the musk of the young girls aroma probablly, trying to see the pillaged feast for itself. the knife was mine, but it was not going into the gruesome man . he was too big for me, even if i pited in the girl, there were waves, me , and goons, and women whose destiny would not extend beyond my own. we were all wicked. there was no pity now or before. the girl who died before us, she extended her arms almost to forgive me. but as her head lay down on the wood planks, i dont think i ever thought that i did anything. maybe thats why i felt a hot surge inside my shoulder.

recently i decided to write less in the impersonal tone, and auditing command style. like a messiah beating down crap, oh- words. Maybe its more interesting , to read it like that. recently, i realized i have no idea what i am dong with my life. if you remember back to when you were like 16, or something when you were so sure of yourself. funny thing is i do not wish for anyone to read my blog. its better knowing that these thoughts i jargon down here, are not ciphered into some caterpillar on the other side of a green computer screen. and i write as i think , because some ideas get lost in the deep chasm of things. writing that takes tremendous detail is the type i guess you should aim for. flaubert, knew without exception all his characters from the beginning to the end. truman capote, who was a very largely impressed and a fan of the former. i however dont think like that. i mean i generalize it to the rather out of context-ness. it is dangerous for others to read your thoughts, like pennies collected they make out something, if not much. yes, back to myself about life- seems like i have been drifting . sometimes things go blank. i think i will be less stressful about things. one thing you learn as you age, is to loosen up. ive learned to detangle inside. but it means doing it, not the opposite of action. the world, like an ocean, swallows up so much of what i possess, but then again i remember my master's words, like clear pearls drifting in the sky; ive decided to do more breathing exercises in yoga. and once this tattoo heals i plan to take bikram yoga ,2x weekly. the heat will be beneficial to expel toxins that get built up in the body- funny how yogi's and such men spend a vast amount of time cleaning out the body and such, while investigating the mind. while so many of us, spend our times gorging, or eating things, breathing things, thinking angry things(to an extent that it disrupts into violence that is, merely getting emotional has no significant consequence- meaning it is the usual flow of things, but the awareness that stems it from going beyond a certain losing capacity is what is crucial. energy is what is lost, and what yogis maintain. not just a yogi, but one who like a swan lives in the world. so far, i have been systematically trying to improve diet. sometimes i lapse. the skin is the best display of your gross inside. it displays how you eat, what you drink, and whatever else is detoxified inside or vice versa. i learned how to eat properly only the hard way, after years. stubborn , the bull mind takes long to bend. but the bend is what matters. after you leave behind that stop, you will forget where you started. now i plan to improve breathing. smoking and drinking are not good either, but it is not really expected to be totally eliminated, just like masturbation or sex. but a minimal in a month, is the best expenditure. these are not concerns the average person cares about, might sound superfluous or neurotic, but to the spiritually keen, like myself, i always have the inner fight, always. it is the price i pay for the great association of my master, and the insight i have developed as a result of those many years. the energy i have applied, there in that field has given small fruits, and long windy ways for me to travel . my masters words , strike clear in my heart, so that when even i read those pages of yogis from back long ago, i am reminded of my own experience, and can fully inhale the sweet praise of divinity. that sound is the absence of noise. anhata sahbda. the volume of true believing.in fact i am not all lost. when i think of others like emerson said the distant vices, i see clearly which i lack. and know that i am moving slowly, toward a whole place, just have to keep working, and remove the dust. , the lack of effort. and get in better shape. muscle brings in girls. we all know that. but i mean , its a small part of your life really- but should not be ignored, not at least for your sake, skin being clean and all that. it rained lately. feels good. although i say i dont like the rain, i say things opposite- it is great. the rain makes LA bearable. thats why it only joins in sometimes almost never. be glad to graduate, and get out of this city. for once , be better to be at home except the cost of vegetables and fruits. i think i have made many lies out of things. need to straighten it out i suppose one day. find a route. where though?>

estoria part i

i was going to write a short story but some disturbing and other news caught my eye. so many people say they are well informed or intelligent. i mean how many book s do they read on average per year ? how many perodicals? how many non-work related journals or significant publications? Besides daily politics, how many people know the history or general workings of various fields. they say the jack of all trades in economics is useless. but i believe contrary. in the past, at least for the history of western culture- thats another post. , show that many were polymaths. or whatever the word is for polygot- or- point being, they were good at multiple subjects; philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, physics, mechanics, engineering, reading, writing, prose, architecture, etc. when you think of all the time used by ourselves, and the information we look up. most people thinking they are expanding their minds, are following narrow roads down to their fulfilling desires. a recent article about slumdog millionare by a newsweek columnist was an excellent example. this movie, that people , white people are raving for , ironic isn't it? has a touch of white -imperalistic times , yay for the darker man and his triumph while we parade in our expensive luxuries; this is not an affliction of race, but wealth and status. anyways, back to the article. it was an excellent read, an eye opener for those who just bought into the film, without ever watching films that are deeply credible on the subject. maybe the average public should face his ever shallow truth: he is not that deep of a thinker. the great number of inventions, ideas, music, life, language, fields of encompassing arts , and fashion, the wide array of circulating subjects and their each layer revealing more like flower petals plucked away. interesting to note in another article, the world banking organization. i mean how it is organized HSBC. is a very interesting company. set up as an anglo banking company all over the world prior to abolition of imperialistic ownership of others and nations. yet these banking companies have set up shop all over the world. HSBC is the largest, and most profitable bank in the world- largest in terms of value because it was established in hong kong as european(british) and chinese lending were fostered. it also set up in all of pacific asia, by now, and has a huge revenue, bought into the US market, and also bought HOusehold co. for 9B pounds as a deal of the century. (21st). surprisingly, how money is fluctuate through the world like this. this great maze of maya, the great illusionist, which keeps all these busy toes bustling. for how long do you walk on that dreary road, darkened by ignorance and passions ,until the sight of the eye has lifted from the clouds of bygone births, sometimes when i think of that it seems somewhat depressing doesn't it?. all alone, on a path, that nobody understands. in deep loneliness, great courage is found. friendship, really has only one benefit, to learn the qualities or examine the ones you lack or do not wish for, and one other- to practice the art of grace and kindness. many especially the affluent, believe that just if they live, that should be enough that being a good person to call it- is enough- enough for what? to end misery, to give a title or halo to you , a congratulation entrance into the halls of some ciricular heaven situated in some clouds?. laudible. to reach the other shore, - .. being a good person , if that were enough. no . it is not. merely breathing is not compensatory for natures gift. merely walking across the earth in regret for harsh steps do not ease their dents. laws , that you believe in, work , and laws that you cannot see , beyond the subtle imaginations of even great great minds. , such seeings are found in a science long lost to the person. that is spirituality. it is the science of living. the art of using the sharpened blade to thrust clean, keen . like a great sufi once said: chant his/god's name, and remember him while doing so, keener than a blade is such remembrance. that means such thoughts have the power, the aura, to expel the toxins of the body, and uplift the person. merely by absorbing in other things, you cannot transcend. it is true , in a worldly art or subject a man can create something beautiful, but it is not god. to transcend, to take flight, you must approach it more cautiously. love is the vehicle, intense desire for that love, divine aspirations propel that. if you read the science of yoga, it says- to end the cycle of births, to fulfill the births of yester , man must strive in this birth, to establish himself in yoga. by establishing himself it means to maintain and create a a routine to move along the path. the Upanishads say that path is razor sharp. life is not a statistics. there is no distribution you can match to it. but the yogi's or seers of india, not just the ones dead, ones that are living, telling secrets about this century, this world, without you knowing it- , say this is why most people do not reach anywhere in spirituality, or never ascend. the path is that fine. you may say to be a person of character, academic standing, rigor, talent, ambition, success, takes time, effort, and persistence, and some luck or grace to mend it all. but to be uplifted spiritually , it requires capacity that you do not have, just as nothing accelerates past light, but a mass that is infinite, so for the particles of your body to reorganize, and restructure, it requires the living presence of a master. a master, is not recognized from the outside. if there is no inner message, no divine alert that clearly tells you it just means you belong to a group that is regular. without spiritual roots from previous incarnations, you cannot expect to become highly advanced in this life, the only way such is possible is to get the grace from a master. that is why great saints have always stressed humility. most people do not have divine instruction by themselves ,on how to mediate, or how to move along the path Besides books, and garbage instructions from others, or academics, etc. but i have met those who have needed no instruction. and this is no guessing game. this is not a quack science. spirituality has results. by that i do not mean levitation. if you want to levitate you need to find a hatha yoga expert, or an esoteric master on the subject of breath its possible but you have to give up everything else first. see, thats the catch. well to progress slower than that, while maintaining your current lifestyle, now we get to the more digressed part of someone who finally reaches that height of mental awakening. but yes some know, and you can tell. they can tell you clearly. experience is not ambiguous. but it is not in a book. the art of eastern spirtuality, that great men have abandoned homes, and hopes, to find the great truth of inner knowledge, is not so easy to come by deciding to go to yoga a couple times a week. these men, and such like, who live today, immersed in practices throughout time, seek to rush toward the infinite, so they may merge into the sun like a ray cast, and no more . the rest of us, move slower, because we have ambitions, life to live, our slates are not so clean, our propeller does not have that much energy or purity of tejas to make that oribtal freelance. thats why people do not see results in yoga or meditation. . the leaks. but it is different with a master, you may not be practicing every day, you make try, you may fail, but your connection with that master illuminates more than i can write to describe. that is an experience and growth that is not scientifically capable of being define. it can be described and highlighted. but not more. it is like trying to say how the world works, when physics can only address subjective case by case, not try to explain the world, when the symmetrically findings in a leaf suggest combinatorial patterns do not say anything about why the cosmos have placed such and such timing for someone to do this, or die, born, collide, etc..indeed the grace of a master is all liberating, with the right effort, one can make amazing progress. only another mathematican can appreciate a mathematical discovery. only a musician can appreciate the talent and soul of someone better than them. likewise, only one who has either felt the twang of the piercing of the arrow of divine love, or the one who has sent the arrow from the bow- those are the only ones who understand the presence and grace of such a being. they are rare, and though they are so much more grandeur than all that goes on, we are just going on living, forgetting their lives, or maybe like so many of them or you out there, you never meet them or heard of that either way- made nothing to your life, and that is the sad part. that is why all the scriptures, all the yoga, all the love, cannot be found in such a life- these ideas from such places cannot be more deeply found and understood till that experience. what do i say to anyone about it. i have no need to convince you. it lives like the truth, even if you say you have no tongue. you may discover the moon, or not, you make just mosey go
b y happily. but unless you find the inner self, while doing all that- you wont get anywhere . you will die like the rest, yeah with your contribution sure, with your own book for life, but it will go with the sod. the dirt will eat all such memories. transitory is all these emotions and branches of family and attachments. the great , who are able to see through such , with discerning eyes throrugh such fog, while i cannot, even while knowing about it, like that guy from matrix, who betrays neo ; while he's eating that steak knowing it is an illusion but cannot give it up; not that i cannot give anything up, or have to, but just by knowing it isnt enough to make full progress. one must immerse in it, while living . the lessons of spirituality only come after one is fit to be made a disciple, a student. then come the real teachings. all the searching, questions about life and what it is, are before that. then when you get a little calm and clarity, the teachings you follow like the academics or things you study for what you like to do, will become your road map . the homework or hobby you do; will be those teachings, and their practice, and their continued practice becomes illumination of a strong point, they begin to work on the nerves, and the literal particles of human elements, rearranging not literally, but in a metaphoric way, changing your personality, by revealing what was deep beneath the layers of finite wafers. then if you look at a person like that, you will know the difference between such a spiritual soul and an ordinary one. the difference will be like a master musician and a novice. the former , will have the solid background of effort to rely on, to illuminate their ideas and firmly hold to their convinctions, while the latter will still be searching for where to begin

usa kala

far away like the moon
you persist , gaining in leaps across his white crescent

fog rises

---
i longed for a door
when it was dark . black absence of light ;bursting as a flame


jalaluddin

they call me
from somewhere
like a deep voice
jung once said that he knew of god's greater presence , because like the planets whose orbital attraction made them follow the sun, so he felt the magnetic heaviness of god. this is a deep statement, to know the twang that moves in the gentle heart of one who has felt the awakening presence of divine love, either through deep meditation , or the glance or presence of a great master, such moments are rare, and compared to a clear day being swallowed up by clouds.

an article about chemical memory for reasoning. bikram yoga. bikram is actually a student of

Bishnu Charan Ghosh

who is the younger brother of parahamsa yogananda. fascinating thing, ghosh is a renowed physical culturist, or was. renowed in india, even before yoga schools took place like desert flowers across the united states. he asked bikhram to teach yoga for healing in the states, and asked him to open schools. even, when he had been injured and returned to his master (ghosh) , he healed him and bikram pointed out the efficacy of yogic healing without any medical or pharmaceutical devices. and if you read the life story of the great monk , his elder brother , it becomes clear this yogi's talent was passed on to his younger receptive brother, who like a vessel took whatever information and wisdom that the gentle saint had to give. how unfortunate, that the greater world will never know the true teachings of such masters, who vividly take flight on earth like great stars bursting down to us from the black clouds in distant heights. masters, whose affinity of love express the glimpse of God , spark, that like a great fish whirled up.

el mundo del pais

blood of rivers
running from pre america andes, stretching her hand , past western prairies , flown through the blue canvas and white powder
blanketing ancient rivers of goddesses, rivers of chicano blood, ch'uel born breast of brown earth carried on little hands dancing heartbeat of the drum, ancient rulers swept back

distant memories and thoughts

like the blowing wind
over the autumn cherry blossoms

like little rose leaves

floating down the stream

i rivet amongst the daydreams

thinking of you has arrested my thoughts

like the arctic snow ,

vast stretches separate us.

beloved that rings in the very ears of my depths,
the first gasp swirling through these veins
for how long i have searched for your eyes

mother of my passion
desire taking flight across twilights blank crest.


roads , long grain speckled gray

little girl with black tresses,

anklets calling eternally, her eyes have the look

like a bird soaring in those clouds.

dry like entering cold,

half sleeping eyes warm as a blanket over fire.