Advaita Notebook  

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From the Hand of God

I would like to say
This poem flowed easily
From the hand of God

But I forgot it twice
Before even getting it down

Then I crossed out a good half
And had to consult
The thesaurus

Finally the spell checker turned red
And just before giving up
I rescued it by changing
The last three lines to

Absolutely all
Flows from the hand of God

Truth Has Moved On

With anything you do or say or think
You must add the proviso
"Truth has moved on"

A thought has already been thought
Before it is thought about

And what it was and who thought it
Are true mysteries
Before fairyland steps in
To explains things

Truth always moves on
And stays a little ahead
Of me
Poking out its tongue
As I try and grasp it

Starting from Here

Starting from here
Where do you go?

Imagine three oranges
Or the planet Jupiter
Or say "I must become present"

All these happen only here
Like the clock ticking
On your wall

So you didn't go anywhere
You never do
And anyway what clock
On what wall?

This is just squiggles of pixels
From the pixies
Upside down on your retina

That's what's really truly here

A Messy God

Today we have a messy God
Wreaking havoc
A cat playing with his mice

Where's the heaven in this?
Do you await death
To really live?

I get sick of seeking sometimes
Why try to put
A better light on things?
On this mess he made

It never stops raining
And feral pigs are
Digging up my lawn
Into mud slush holes

Even this poem
Won't help me much

Everyone is Her

Waiting on the corner
For your beloved to appear
Everyone is her
Just for the instant
Before you write them off

Everyone is her
Just for that tiny moment
When your love crazily spreads out
Like a shock wave

Giving you the big hint
And the split second chance
To disintegrate

In Awe  of Myself

It's hard to be humble
When I'm so much
In awe of myself

I get so ecstatic when
I remember to take credit
For all that I am and do

I wander around drunk as
A dragon fly
A tulip
Or the taste of tamarind

And most truly awesome
Is seeing the whole thing
As you

Everyone Gets a Life

Everyone gets a life
Said God
So why not waste it
Looking for something better?

For if you do waste it
In that way
That is the life
I gave you


The genetic difference between
Man and ape
Is around two percent

And far far less between
Mother Teresa and Hitler

And the exact precise difference
Between you and a butterfly
And God
Is nothing

The Eternal Spring

Every now and then
God turns off
The eternal spring
Just to get everyone up and running

At first I don't understand
And swing my pick furiously
Into dry clay

Eventually my thirst for truth
Takes over
And the drought surprises me with
A bountiful harvest

The Other Bhagavad Gita

In the other Bhagavad Gita
Arjuna drops his arrow
And lowers his bow
And slinks off from the battlefield
As the coward
Who wouldn't kill his cousins

Krishna also needs cowards
Depressed and lowly
And in the other version
Arjuna proudly carried out
That harder role

The wrath of relatives
And himself
Was outweighed by
His undying love for Krishna
Allowing him to offer
Courageous sacrifice

The Cormorant

The cormorant swims
Then dives
As circles expand
Leaving no trace
No trace

Mind doesn't disappear
It carries on

With webbed feet
And out of breath

The cormorant bobs up
A miracle of splashing feathers

And mind says
"Yes I was right"

The Board of Good Housekeeping

In an unusual burst of truth
The Board of Good Housekeeping
 That sparkling sinks
And fragrant powder rooms
Owe their existence to
The unmentionables
Lurking therein

The Board of Good Housekeeping
Went on to say that
Though products of only the
Highest standards
Would be endorsed
They would nevertheless like to
Acknowledge in small print
The existence of
And even necessity for
The Subcommittee of Dirt and Filth

My Tooth

With all the misery and pain
In the world
Why would I worry about
My tooth?

What strange connection to
A bit of bone
Puts it closer than your asthma
Or her leukaemia

No perspective may be the
True perspective
Yet Nisargadatta seemed just right
Being a bit gappy

Not me though
I'm seeing the endodontist

God's Dance

Was it you
Who told the lie
That God can't dance?

It's just a silly rumour
Cos there's ants in his pants

Ants in his pants
And stars in the sky

He kicks his heels to heaven
So you'll wonder why

Seeking Thoughts

The seeker knows what she wants
The sage has no idea

Seeking thoughts home in
On their targets
Already known by reconnaissance
With precise co-ordinates
Seeking is done by smart bombs

Freedom on the other hand
Is a wild missile
all and sundry
Willy nilly
To smithereens

Where You Belong

You can hide away
In your thoughts
And read this from a distance
Or you can be drawn
Right out of this page
Into the action

Once airborne though
Where will you land?
Where will you re-form?

I say don't

Stay floating around
Where you belong


God accused me of
Blaming him for everything
And in my defence
I asked 
What it was he didn't do

There's been a
Hell of a long silence

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