Time doesn't exist
if we don't heed it

In silence
we find
our real self
and authenticity--
life's very essentiality

Tears-- they speak
what words cannot
their message fails
in being uttered

they are of their own
an unfathomable language
incomprehensible to the sufferer
the depth of their pain nothing can assuage

Poetry
is about the quest
for truth and beauty
not vanity

Silence is my best teacher
     I depend on it for the right answer

Life-
the come and go
the yes and the no
which direction to follow
most of us don't really know

My suffering and loneliness
I  gently bear and don't complain
it's all assuaged by my music
no longer do I feel the pain-

along life's thorny terrains
I tread in whatever weather
a song travels with me--never failing
and brings me the sweetest wonder-

ah,  life so capricious
so harsh and cruel, yet tender
in moments so rare and unpredictable
such a strange fellow-traveller!

Winterreise-- winter-journey
my story is told in bittersweet tears
but I die not---to my every symphony
the world will heartily harken in all future years

I'll not overstretch :
what I am, gladly
I celebrate and accept
in full consciousness of my mortality-

everyones's days are numbered
but most ignore deliberately
and this they say: 'My best hasn't been scored
I'm yet to secure the greatest victory!'

Silent I'll be from my tiny cottage
I'm happy to be alone and empty
what the world regards as a rare advantage
aside I step--  all life is folly!

This I shall say
in honesty:
most things
that I know
are only in part

no expert am I
and my deficiency
I take truly to heart-

beyond myself
I look and observe
how the wisdom
of others does spark
while so obscure
I remain
in meaning's dark

time into the future
does surreptitiously embark
bit by bit
in patience
I learn
yet I realise
in a major part
with utmost humility
that I've acquired
so little of
life's living-art

Life is articulated best
through poetry-
a grand tapestry
of the finest words
the acme of poignancy
meaning conveyed most exquisitely
akin to the deepest notes of a symphony

Some regard life as pleasant
others think it's a burden
I merely live on-
I don't question

Empires fall
people die
kings and princes
last only in their time

buildings grow old
traditions and mores change
love and hate
all dreams and hopes
all memories and regrets
are mere passing phases

such is life
we meet-
you and I
a few words
we speak
and bid
each other goodbye


but literature is eternal
every human aspect
it does envelop
nature it does enwrap
an endless symphony
of words
it does patiently  create
our tears
and fears
  it does faithfully keep
  our happy or sad voice
  it doesn't deny


though we are all long gone
to an unknown land
as ten thousand years
have relentlessly  sped by.

Life is harsh
indeed very harsh:
I don't run away
in its some goodness
I believe and trust

Don't scowl or frown-
be prepared to be let down
life is a Darwinian jungle
its keyword is: SURVIVAL!

It's better
to keep your story
few are interested
that's the harsh reality!

Some live deeply
others, only shallowly
yet both categories
in their own way can be happy

If you're truly smart
you'd shut up!

Dark Evening clouds
shedding last light on water
an eagle fies by

For most:
life is  more
the daily doing-
little thinking
hardly any philosophising

People live 50%
      in the past
     30%  in the present
     20%   in the future-
     is this an accurate measure?

What I want
impoverishes me
what I don't
makes me rich-- truly!

Love is in the kitchen
no longer in the bedroom-
nature has spoken !

Over none
do I have any edge
I can say honestly
even at my ripe old age

Are you easy
or difficult to live with?
Please tell me-
honestly!

If there's
no such need
I'll be silent-
it's not the time to speak

and if
the right time to
my words
would be few.

Confucius wrote in 600 BCE---

I am not slighted by others not knowing me,

only by my not knowing others.


This is true humility

Pain is suffered alone
to others unknown

On my own
I wouldn't have known
what I desired-
music's glory
and the grandeur of poetry

on which I've fed
since I was a teenager
strengthened by time
to last into infinity :

herein is sacredness
the sublimest expression
of man's heart and soul-
life's endless poignancy

in this my religion
I've found-- verily-
on sanctified ground
I stand--- my life is blessed fully!

Where poetry is and smiles
there's vibrant life
the best of the heart
is expressed despite whatever strife

every moment we'll celebrate
all sorrows and regrets we'll set aside
embraced by beauty, love and truth
in such endless  bliss we'll all abide

I don't need
to be reminded:
I feel it
to my very skin
and bone-
this my frailty
and mortality

every old person
on this
does reflect-
alone-

few years left
in the last winters -
gazing
at the snows falling
each flake
is like a human tear
while the frail leaves
are falling
one by one
on the waiting
desolate ground-

no question
will I ask
where heaven
will be found

I've laughed
I've wept

I've fallen
I've risen

I've sung
I've been dumb

I've gone
forward
and stepped
backward

I've dreamt
and seen
them fade

I've lent
a hand
when I could
and not asked
to be reciprocated

on promises made
by friends
I've witnessed
their sad failing

I've loved
but never hated

into the utmost
depths of myself
I've delved
there's nothing
left
to be lamented
or regretted

how calm
is tonight
there isn't
a single light
in the sky

I hear
the winds
in their moan
and sigh
yet I
not for
a moment
am afraid
that I might die
ere the break
of the morning bright

from the hills
a gentle echo
drifts to my ears:
be glad
feel blessed
when
the hour is nigh

hold nothing
feel empty
let go
of every
earthly thing

welcome
celebrate
the greatest
peace
the most exquisite
beauty
that's drawing by

this moment
worship and embrace

sing, sing
a song of gratitude
of joy, of delight

smile
do not cry
in the darkness
is the  blessed light!

The world will leave us wanting
this is mankind's perennial plight
every want enslaves and oppresses
with its relentless might

none is ever with their lot satisfied
with this,  personal freedom takes flight
each is imprisoned but unaware
it's akin to one's moral suicide

In response to an idea of G.S. Shaw on man creating and finding himself:

Creating oneself is a fundamental Confucian idea (600 BCE)-  this is the ideal of the junzi (the superior man) who has fully cultivated himself through vigorous and disciplined education and becomes a role-model who is fit to serve in society and government.

In achieving this, he has found himself and his calling.

The midway
       between past and future
       the straggling of now
       in the cross-over of time

      the height of life's drama
      to be and to become
       the strife and struggle
       for the best outcome-

      the heavy falling-down
      the rising despite the harm
      strengthened anyhow
      not to let oneself down

       the resurrection
       from the luxuriant ground
       where fertility has replaced the grime
        here, at last,  ultimate freedom is found!

Grant me kindness
not success:
in this alone
I'll be fully blessed

It's not that
I don't want your company
it's rather that being alone
sets me free

we each live
within our world - ultimately
to be totally free
though in dire misery-

such we all are
each a silent story
our deepest part
we can't share with anybody-

it's not that
I'm insensitive - it's rather be
my own wound to bear
to overcome every adversity

May I say this: ?


I don't wish to be larger than myself;

I'll be silent, humble and gentle,

be the self that's acceptable to me, without pride or discontent;

quietly I live and life's beauty I deeply cherish;

I don't need to impress the world on any count

and, when my time has come to bid farewell,

gladly and gratefully I'll accept as I drift into that blessed slumber

I am a follower of Zen.

May I say this: ?


I don't wish to be larger than myself;

I'll be silent, humble and gentle,

be the self that's acceptable to me, without pride or discontent;

quietly I live and life's beauty I deeply cherish;

I don't need to impress the world on any count

and, when my time has come to bid farewell,

gladly and gratefully I'll accept as I drift into that blessed slumber

You don't need
to go to a ship
a lady to court-
that would be stupid!

It's not that I'm insensitive
the path of solitude I choose
as it makes me a whole person
away from the crowd and its invective

aloneness is sanity, not grief
such clarity does it serve
looking reverently into my inner self
life is calm, congruent and such relief

I'm old-fashioned
but not antiquated
from the past I absorbed
its undying wisdom

our age does itself wrong
if what went before we abandon
its each noble thought is a rare diamond
never to be ignored or forgotten

such imbibed and inspired
into a new life we are awakened :
the past is our guide and mentor
such legacy can never be stolen

I'm old-fashioned
but not antiquated
from the past I absorbed
its undying wisdom

our age does itself wrong
if what went before we abandon
its each noble thought is a rare diamond
never to be ignored or forgotten

such imbibed and inspired
into a new life we are awakened :
the past is our guide and mentor
such legacy can never be stolen

I was yesterday
for sure
I'm today
in doubtful evolution -
tomorrow?
I don't know
all else is
pure speculation

Words
more words
yet more
and more-

hush
let silence
take over

hold back
step aside -
in that blank state
essence
and meaning
will emerge
from each distilled word

Life-
the inside
and the outside
if out of balance
it isn't right-

neither fighting
nor tightly-holding:
only the interplaying
of expanding
and contracting
the together holding
in equilibrium -reaching

the Yin of softening
the Yang of shining
the inseparable twinning

Tick tock, tick tock
. we must take stock
  life ends, my friend
  when stops the clock!

I'm in several parts
still a child---the past
is more real than the present
those innocent moments--they last

to remind me
of  unblemished beauty
of truth that's immutable
of friendship that's purity-

how the world has changed
in its infinite nonchalance!
the human touch has vanished
our bond is in severance!

The Eden that was once my joy
by time has been sorely stolen
silent tears I now shed alone
my heart is bereft and broken!

Why would I want
to be remembered?
Had I ever done
anything that was great?

Don't hold on
to yourself too tightly
try letting go-gently

and enter
into the sanctum
of your inner calm

self defeats itself
in wanting to become
larger than itself--it courts harm

and bears painfully
the greatest burden
with its peace stolen

  so few verily
  know how to be empty
  and lead lives in such agony

West:    Charge ahead!

Zen:     Step back

Poetry is more than a friend
it's the voice of religion