Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Turning back the clock of non-existing time,
looking thru a windowless piece of glass.
writing nonsense just to let the hours pass by.

I see a non-future past, all is here, in the instant of my broken heart.
Feeling tired of waiting for the incoming flow of light that will
take me away from this mess that is my life.

JA ! I tried to laugh at the vulgar nature of pretending to care...
gone, gone beyond the fact.

The repetition of sounds, visual landscapes and ten fingers in my hands,
the smells of tandori chicken, as if walking on the streets of India with
my feet full of sand.
The tingling in my private parts, itching for a real man, that will fill me
with pleasure  even for one night...feeling lips between my legs...
and one more and one more... an endless number of hands touching the soft
skin of my back... moaning in pleasure for a moment similar to
the nirvana of the Hindu Gods.
Flesh is here...flesh not here, I don't mind...mind and body disappear
in a flash...
from the distance, (as if time and distance were real), I observe the
exploration of dimensions that opens up;  new sensations, not sensations,
and I realized,
it is only in my freedom I can fly, this dream world is just one of many
where I can touch my body with no hands...

anjani

03-13-2013



I don't give a damn what you think of me... I care less of your insidious look.
My time is up, your time is up....
we are all terminal, life on earth is but a fetus breath, weak and faint...
it will soon expires, so I just keep on enjoying the sensual pleasure of
hand and bodies coming together ...
of a cigar smoked while playing with
myself reading Buddha's words on the Lankavatara Sutra.
drink my dark and strong Colombian-African coffee mix with a piece
of sweet cake while listening to Pantera and AC/DC...
Watch my pretty face in a broken mirror, dance away with hits of the 80's & 90's,
dress in sexy clothes for my own pleasure....
laugh and cry alone in my room like a mad sadhu... holy Indian man gone crazy
with divine madness,
not gods to kneel to,
not heaven to aspire to, or hells to fear.
Beyond boundaries of mind, of borrowed sets of beliefs,
buddha, osho, krishna, hubbard, adi da , bashar and even elan....names
that mean nothing to my heart, maybe hanuman the monkey "god",
who is tattooed on my left arm , closest to my heart...
Just like him I can fly, become big or small with wish of no-mind...
no-body gets out alive in this game called human life... only
the witness of the silly point-of-view called living light.

anjani

march 13, 2013