The Taj Mahal

The Taj Mahal with its massive marble lightness
Floats above the river valley, the most
Beautiful building raised by a man to a woman.
Nor was it built out of romantic folly
By an ignorant youth idealizing a lady.

Shah Jehan, absolute Emperor, had it made
In that pure, feminine form, bent like a breast,
To honour Mumtaz Mahal, simply a wife.
In the early seventeenth century when women
Were things to be collected like tigers and jewels.
What a woman she must have been in such a time
To be given such proud devotion after her death.
For twenty-two years he built it, in her praise.

She had borne him many children, surely he knew her
As well as a man could know his wife. Surely they quarrelled
Out of love, and were reconciled out of their love,
Made private family jokes, smiled at each other
Riding on top of the rocking elephants,
Giving a human touch to that royal pomp.

Inside the high and haunting tomb, I marvel
At the coloured flowers, carved from pure gems and set
In the fiercely white stone, their long stem curving
Lively and lovely as a woman's hair.

The guide calls, "Allah Is Great !" The double dome
reverberates on and on, down to a wishper,
Like the architect's echoing voice, proud of his work.

All day the dead wife hears God being praised, and hears
Footsteps of shoeless tourists rustle the floor.
With her fragile woman's bones, be bears the weight
Of all that old immensity of marble.
I leave cool darkness for the burning day
Where the Indian sunlight screams.

A little girl
Waitfs for her parents to climb the stairs. I smile___.
She turns away, a disciplined, decent child,
Huddled inside her orange-coloured sari.
The she peers up, her face senturies old
With a woman's way of looking at a man,
Shrewd, shy, affectionate, all in one glance.
Softly she speaks her two little words of English,
"Good noon", in a voice that is poised and scared together

And then, with a hand before her mouth, amazed,
But also pleased, at such a brazen blodness,
She says again, more gently now, "Good noon,"
And flees into the Taj with a flutter of cloth.

The far sun wavers hotly at high noon.
You taught me about that Empress, why se was built a tomb
Over those years, in desperate devotion.
Surrely among women she was most womanly,
The sort who can move a man by more than beauty
So that, gone, she makes his unfulfilled hands
Feel they can touch eternity yearning towards her.
You blessed that place with your own feminine presence.

You will never have, living, the robes of Mumtaz Mahal,
You will never have, dead, so echoing a tomb.
But already you know more English than she did.
Already, finding the right and furious moment,
You have instructed, and amused a man.

You will never live in a castle, ruling a country,
But in your time, like Mumtaz, you will be
That greatest wonder of our human world
Before which tombs disolve like sudden tears:
A wise and loving woman, alive. ALIVE.

Entensity of Living.(The Pearl of Eternity)

''I have often wondered about the purpose of living when I go on my long drive quite alone with my thoughts for compnay, when, one day I saw a small pup hit by a speeding mobike. Lying by the road side, whimpering, shaking its tail vigourously, as if to ask the passers by, "What have I done, that you have hurt me so!" Even as I saw this, a few humans like me, gathered around it, cursing the rider, but no one stepped forward to help it, so I stopped the car, got out and lifted the little thing and placed its bashed body under a shady tree, gave it a few drops of water, and the gaze the dying pup gave me, was a look of gratitude I think, which I cannot forget ever. I sat by its side patting it in an effort to reduce the pain given to it by a rash and negligent rider, till it passed on. It was then, I realised that BY DIVORCING ETERNITY FROM TIME, SPIRITUAL REALISATION FROM EARTHLY LIFE, WE KILL THE ONLY ETERNITY OF WHICH WE HAVE KNOWLEDGE, THE ETERNITY CHARACTERISTIC OF INTENSE LIVING.

To all the departed MOTHERs, This is my tribute to them

MY TRIBUTE TO MY LATE MOTHER AND EVERY OTHER MOTHER WHO HAVE CROSSED OVER,MAY THIER SOUL REST IN PEACE.

My Mother! when I learn'd that you were dead,
Say, were you conscious of the tears I shed?
Hover'd your spirit o' ver your sorrowing son,
Wretch even then, life's journey just begun?
Perhaps you gave me, though unseen, a kiss;
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss__
Ah, that maternal smile! it answers__Yes.
Was it you ran to help me when I fell,
And told some pretty story to keep me quite,
Or kiss the place to kake it well?
My Mother! was it you pray please tell.

And I journeyed on_____!!

And I Journeyed On……!

As I trudge, with weary steps,
Along these desolate forlorn paths,
Over the serene purple hills,
Across these calm glades,
Over the peaceful valleys,
And the deserted placid meadows,
Leading me to my final goal,
Burdened with the weight of my failures,
And the emptiness of age on my face,
Alone__ with solitude as my company,
I shamble on, weighed down by accusations,
And troubled with allegations untold,
Wondering___ where I went wrong?
Trying to understand the little mishaps,
Before comprehending the cohesive whole,
As I stumble on………
Re-examining my rioting emotions,
I cruelly, smothering to death,
My___ desires, hopes and wishes,
Trying to escape my probing eyes?
To hide, in my now shattered heart,
In an attempt to live another day,
As I plod on to reach, the rendezvous point at the destined goal.
When this melancholy but a plaintive melodious song,
With a familiar and soulful note, sung by a lonely women,
Who was long lost to this world?
Comes floating to my entranced ears.
Muting the singing birds, hushing the rustling leaves,
As if___ to enchant nature, to a stand still,
Bemoaning feelings of Sadness and longing,
Not quite akin to pain, but a long separation.
As it echoes in my heart, ever growing,
Reaching a crescendo, too hard to bear?
I stand a while, leaning on an ancient tree,
Resting my tired limbs and clamming my eager heart.
As a thought impregnates my bewildered mind,
Is it she? Who sings the familiar song?
Of bygone days, in this wilderness,
Entrancing me to follow
Even as the thought fades away,
There come a familiar trilling laugh,
Resonating down from up and beyond,
To goad me on……..
Then with quickened pace, in an enchanted stupor,
I make haste, desperate eyes,
Frantically searching out the source,
From whence it seemingly came,
Rejuvenating, my failing strength,
Before, the last strains of the long familiar,
Song of the yester years dwindles into oblivion.
As the present fades, into the past.
Amazed! I gaze up the pearly heights,
Peep into the darkened depths,
Expecting to a catch glimpse of her______!
____She remains hidden from my sight.
Decidedly then, I struggle up with faltering gate,
The last few steps whence the,
Old familiar song seemingly came_____
Then ! a sudden luster shined brilliantly,
As I stood in breathless gaping wonder,
And I beheld a heavenly aspiration, with eternal beauty.
With an angelic face and familiar voice,
All dressed in sparkling white.
Silver haired, with radiant eyes,
Dimpled cheeks and rosy lips, which….
Bloomed into a familiar and welcoming smile.
Showered on me the heavenly love,
My craving heart, had so long missed.
By gone memories came flooding by,
My wrenching heart inwards cried.
As she looked on, at me, with pain filled eyes,
I looked on, in a daze,____ at my mother!
Who had long passed by?
You look pale and frail, my Son! She cried,
Life! I see has tortured you my little one.
It been long since you came,
I’ve waited here for you, to heed your call.
I’ve come to fetch you home, my dearest one.
Come now, rest here, a while with me,
Catch your breath, for there’s time still,
For you, to cross the bar, my dearest son.
I did what I was bid, and laid myself at her feet,
And sitting by my side, she soothed my trouble brows.
Many thoughts in an exodus fleeted by,
Unfulfilled, desires, hopes also went fading by,
As I blissfully unaware, languished, by mother’s side.
Then She said in the gentlest tone I had ever heard___
Here__ take my hand, Son,
Forget your worries, and failures,
For they will not be long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desires and hate,
They’ll have no portion in you after
You have crossed the gate.
The Heavenly father shall not judge you, believe me,
By the medals, degrees and diplomas you have earned.
But shall judge you by, the scars,
Time has etched upon your soul.
So put a cease to your struggle Son.
Get up, and walk by me, like you always did,
And let me lead you, on your final trek,
Along the path, leading to the turn,
That you had seemingly missed in the long past.

The Answer!! unacknowledged.

A question, which bequeaths only deep reflections and compulsive ponderance inducing righteous emotional prelude to herald the purest feelings, held imprisoned, deep within, restrained by the futility of the promptings, of not being understood, in the right prespective, which profuses potentous phenomeanon, postulating precious perceptions of feelings dominating oneness and togetherness---Rising from the dreams of thee, in the first sweet sleep of the night, when the winds were breathing low and stars were shining bright, my "ESSENCE" saw Eternity of your inner mysterious self, appearing, like a great ring of pure and eternal light, in which thy body gleamed,in each, rhythmic sway of an ethereal dance of eternal ecstasy, and making the bright world look dim and everything beside, seem like the fleeting images of shade --- and flowing along, with the tide of time, as a ship, in a stormy sea, follows a beacon, sought anchorage in the sweet, soft hollow of your receptable being, and continue safely along the path, cut by the pulsating surge of your blood streams, to reach the deepest recess of your heart, and lie their like a cacoon, creating the void! with my presence, which you so ardently deny ?Feel the love, the glow of the warmth, my essence, beheld captive within you, generates! Seek me, deep within your throbbing self, where, my essence, is to be sought, for there, it lies like the parenthesis, in eternity of your soul, becoming one, with the very substance of your being.Yes, I am in your presence, and shall remain so, for it is so ordained, to remain entwined with your sensory feelings, pulsating with life! so let us live, then, and be glad, while young life's before us, and after youthful pastime had, after old age hard and sad, earth will slumber o'ver us---The refulgent brilliance and the warmth of the all consuming fire, which we so lovingly rekindled, and you, so wonderously gaze into, is not meant to be, contained in a jar--let, its will, prevail! bask, in its warmth, unrestrained you shall fly --- for you have freedom in my love, and in the very depth of your soul, 'am free too, for the angels alone that soar above, enjoy such liberty----Let the essence of our togetherness, redeem itself and repurcate, let it rejuvenate, let it, which is so pure to sustain us, audience your free flight, into the euphoric world, you, so much wanted to flee too, with the seed planted within the roots, where MAAYA, perhaps, in times to come, may reveal the ultimate truth and we could discover our true selves, unvieling the mystic revealation that so seemingly, shrouds us ---- and then, we could fathom! what lies between the pages of the book which so many have perused, making the spine so worn??

My entity

Sitting on the back stage of life, rehersing the scenes which have yet to be staged, the feelings of inferiority, grabs hold of my mental state, when I clearly recognise the sense of incompleteness, and unfulfilment as uninterrupted struggle, to reach somewhere, to achieve the unachieved, to do something worthwhile, comes to the fore, its then I question myself often___ "What purposeful end do I have to serve? Who am I really what is my real entity?

In the middle of the night, as the world sleeps in the embrace of the deep silence, I, in an attempt to seek the answers have reached deep within the depths of my tortourted soul, and ruthlessly, in cold blood, segregated my, now useless but still treasured hopes, latent desires, the remnants of still glimmering dreams and wishes, from each other, peeling away layers after layer of the tattered protective shroud that en-clothe them, to examine and re-examine them, and deliberately strangle them to death, as they clamber about evading capture, screaming for deliverance, to seek safe haven in my foolish heart, which still throbs for a better tomorrow, so that they can live yet another day in this mundane world.

Here I find myself seemingly move about, as if in a masqueraded fiesta, hidden behing a different masks, which perforce I have to don, afresh, at every turn of my daily march to sustenance, enacting role of a character, which is everything else but my true self. The difference being, that, here I am my own producer, director, script writer, the hero and the the villain, continuously editing the dialogues expressing the feelings of my faked joys, sorrows, my frustration and anger, my likes and dislikes.

PURPOSE as the Instrument of DESTINY induced by TIME demands me to act the roles that of a Husband, Father, brother, lover, the son, prosecutor or the protector, the defender or the attacker, the friend or the worst enemy, with varied degrees of reality, without letting the shadow of my true emotions reflecting upon the character being enacted, even though, they strive to emerge in an exodus, seeking freedom from the constraints of forceful confinment within the deepest recess of my heart.

How long will this scene last, when shall I deliver my last dialogue I do not know. For I know I have without doubt, heard that final call of my Pilot, waiting across the Bar, to guide me on the last leg of my journey, even as I hear in the distance the faint but distinct tolling of the knell. I know that even as the Dust of the Centuries, settles upon my entity, as the cries of my tormented and aching heart, whimper away in the deep silent oblivion, I know I shall have not found the answers to my question of the purpose of this life, which shall remain half lived, unfulfilled, and unfinished without a purpose.

Journey

This journey I know,
Shall come to an end.
And will leave us,
Anchored in lonesome solitude.
Somewhere at an unknown harbor,
That ray of light nowhere to be seen,
Yet sought by you and me,
In this mundane turmoiled world.
Will be found, I know,
When, the momentary solitude
goes fleeting by.
Pray! take my hands,
Lets trudge along for a while,
There is darkness still ahead,
Along these forlon lonely paths,
Which I trudge burdened with
Life's unsolved puzzles,
Its here somewhere,
I missed a turn,
Turning where, my steps,
Would've led me,
To what I sought,
Now, age has fleeted by,
I still trudge along these paths.
With no hopes and forlornly lost,
Seeking and searching,
Not a SINGLE path,
Now can I find,
Which could lead me,
Back.............................!
To THAT TURN I HAD LOST.
JOE little

Poem of love!

It's not the vast plains that mute our mouths
That fill midnite with ecstatic language

When our trembling bodies hold each other
Breast to breast on a mattress___

Not the empty sky that hides
The feeling from our faces

Nor our shirsts and trousers that conceal
The bodylove emanting in a glow of beloved skin,
With smooth abdomen down to the hair between our legs,

It's not God that bore us that forbid our being,
Like sunny rose, all red with naked joy
Between our eyes and bellies,

Yes___

All we do is for this frightened thing
we call love, want and lack___

what type of an animal was I in my previous birth.

***You Were a Peacock***


You carry yourself with beauty, dignity, and confidence.
You are able to see the past, present, and future with clarity.


What Animal Were You In a Past Life?
www.blogthings.com/whatanim...lifequiz/

dreams lead to ambitions.

Dreams lead to ambitions, inducing desire to achieve the ultimate reach out beyond the imaginative boundaries, of this mundane life, where others who have failed side track us from our ambitions and we fail remember that discouragement comes most frequently from deep withing one's own self, where the doubts become our biggest traitors, making us loose a "good fight" leaving us to search for "success" before "work" forgetting its only possible to find "success" before "work" in a dictionary, failing to understand the parts before looking at the complete whole, and creating a life full of confusing mass leading to no where and every where, and in the midst of this chaos some where deep down in the morass of complexses, we find ourselves struggling in the quagmire of failure, disappointment and turmoiled emotions. The will and the determination to achieve the final goal should always prevail, and think that we are the sworn companion of the prevailing winds but we have the power within to make it carry us to our destination successfully. Joe Little. Bhopal, India.