Wednesday, 31 August 2011

the trust


my new poem THE TRUST.WILL BE POSTED LATER.
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4 comments:

  1. dr.kgbalakrishnan kandangath31 August 2011 at 02:49

    THE TRUST

    -DR.K.G.BALAKRISHNAN



    Yes Truth,the Trust,or Trust theTruth.

    Off-shore I am,like one who has never

    Experienced the melancholy of the sea,

    Who has only heard of, that it would

    Make noise always,would roar,shout

    And scold every one,like an old women.

    Is it so?No.At this moment which just

    Crawled to be the Present,I knew that

    It is not the truth.It might be calm,cool

    And meditated-for a quantum of moment

    At least.The Truth.The Trust.But the next

    Speck will kick mercilessly,ungracefully

    The old down and down in to the depth.

    The Past,the glorified would remain like

    A clown wearing a multicoloured funny

    Cap and a nose-tag and his cheeks painted

    Tricoloured as he would represent the tenses.

    Yes the Trust theTruth.It may not be synonyms

    But are equivalent like the mind and the soul

    Of the Great System,The Great Wheel which

    Rolles day and night,ciockwise or anti,up or down.



    In the dawn,the bright;in the eve,the dull,they are

    Alike.Pulsating,rotating,respiring and perpetuating.

    Once the Trust is lost,The Truth evades.Where

    Does it go?To the sky?TO the oblevion?I wonder.

    But I am sure one thing.It is here.It is there,every where.

    Trust is the custodian of Truth,and You are Both,Non-Dual.

    _______________________________

    _________________________________

    .

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  2. dr.kgbalakrishnan kandangath31 August 2011 at 02:52

    this poem is unedited.however,pls.read &comment.dr.kgb.

    ReplyDelete
  3. dr.kgbalakrishnan kandangath31 August 2011 at 02:54

    friends,u can expect more&more poems posted.dr.kgb.

    ReplyDelete
  4. dr.kgbalakrishnan kandangath31 August 2011 at 03:21

    THE WORD

    DR.K.G.BALAKRISHNAN




    The word originates in bliss.
    Sparkles,twists,shivers,
    At times weeps,at times smiles,
    Plaful often,also,at times cruel.

    Of course it is this or that,
    That or this;bright or dark.
    Red,blue,yellow or grey.
    Violet,indigo-call spectrum.

    Word like an ant moves one
    Behind one;but thought
    Makes the word overlap,
    Nitted,adhered,embraced
    And it flows into the mind,
    To be the glorious sixth sense.

    From there it penetrates in to
    The apt,becomes sharper and
    Also runs like a dog smelling,
    All the path,idendifying each spot
    Moment and pulse.Then it smiles
    Or roars,walks or,runs,or flies to the
    Sky to be the shape which we notify.


    Word, you are wonderful Creator
    Of any thing and of every thing.
    With out you,blank life is;vacuum,zero.
    With you,full,blossom,fragrant,live.

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