Soul Pressed Poetry

Poetry that comes from our soul.

Throat chakra (13 Feb 2010)

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I sing the Gayartri Mantra
The entire plane ride into India
I may be singing for enlightenment

But really I’m subduing the little patterings of fear

India. Holy Mother, I’m entering into
The domains of destruction
Dancing with Shiva

With a man who kisses his feet
(The intoxicated devotee that he is)
And he rides the fastest bike in town

I confess; I love an adventure

He and I are an illusion
In love, out of love, in love
I fall completely free

To say I love you
Has a quality that sounds
Redundant. Love

Is all there is before the object (him)
And subject (me) ever existed
Take us out of the equation; I and You do not sustain

Truth. And I confess, the crakes
Are showing; it’s difficult to take
Myself as a known quantity

I am patterned, I can see that
(It plays out in my heat)
And I am strikingly independent

A Palm Reader who I have a crush on
Tells me I’m special; destiny is waiting
I see truth and contradictions in his reading

I see truth and contradictions in my beliefs
(mainly contradictions)
And when I stop for just a moment

Stop talking about Me, that is
I learn that rather than being left with
Nothing to say

It leaves me with Everything to express

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