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April 5th 2019

The day was a passing Epiphany, a poem being unrolled. I am enjoying the easy-go-lucky -time of Summer Holidays.

Morning was a mystic poem—a sonata of celestial colors. Monks rowed across the sky in sparkling splendor. I thank God Jesus for all the blessings given. The son rose as a poet reciting a verse.

I have started reading the Gospel of Mark and I came across the incident where a woman who had an issue of blood touched the garments of Jesus and was healed. Jesus on realizing some energy had gone out of him asked who had touched him. The woman replied it is she. Then Jesus blessed her.

My writing has led to the discovery of the self and I want to harmonize my fictional self with the real self.

I recall the words of Christ—if you honor me: the Father in heaven will honor you.
Lord Jehovah Jesus: Yes what I yes on earth in Heaven.
I rejoice as the Prodigal Son who has returned to the Father and whom the Father Forgave and accepted without any conditions.
Lord Jehovah Jesus: windfall my purse with a gain of 20000 Rupees today. My wallet has become dry. Water it with a good some of money.

My thoughts are drifting to two art movements in History: Romanticism and Imagism.

Romanticism
Romanticism according to William Wordsworth is the spontaneous overflow of feeling. Sight, Smell, taste and touch become tropoligized into aesthetic artifacts. Romanticism is a poetic sensibility, the art of transforming into a ritual of poetic beauty. Has romanticism become decadent? Romanticism is an art to appreciate nature. Here is a romantic epiphany. Dawn Started Moving with the lovers communing; colors nuzzling fawns, surging tourbillion glowing passion; eternity flies as Sadhus (birds) in white, unveiling time on mystic flight; brook of beauty running through gurgling moksha (salvation) all the way through; swaying pebbles glistening karmic odes, samsara (cycle of rebirth) meanders pilgrimage blues; beyond mundane life of aching pain and deadly strife, Heraclitus is moving from flux to feeling.
Imagism

Another art movement that fascinated me is Imagism founded by Eliot. He defined imagism as an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time. Words in imagism become poetic ornaments. Some examples of Imagism are: The eye of the night shone in mystic glory. Poems gently float across the sky. I played the guitar on her body. Psyche, you beautiful ornament, you are an epiphany in rendition. Rain in Kerala is the heart of monsoon. I poured ecstasy into her body. Memory is a photograph in the album of the mind. Waves in the sky rolled like a hyperbole. I submerged in her lake of passion. The unconscious is an odyssey of the mind. Beauty blooms in a color. Echo is music of the earth. Art is the music of making love.

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Occult Symbolism of my Signature

Signature1

Masonic and Illuminati symbolism has fascinated me….yes, the all Seeing Eye and the Unfinished Pyramid. My asemic signature has evolved through time….I have engulfed it with the Christian esotericism ….Yes, Christ is more valuable than the secret societies. In my signature, there’s the Alpha and the Omega ….the verse in the Bible which says: ‘I am the beginning and the end’ There’s also the cross which means take up the cross and follow me. There’s also the sign of the fish …..again used symbolically for Christians of the early church…Yes, truth is stranger than fiction.

Saxophone

The Saxophone….
Blowing gently ….
Touching the
Poetic rhythms of
The heart….
Melodies wake
The soul ….
A pure
Filtering
Of emotions….
Stir a bubble
Of joy ….
A veil of
Romanticism
Lying deeply
Embedded
In the stone—
The body ….
A dream
Inside the music …
A poignant thought
Of melancholy
Whispers

Assorted Drabble

Grotto
I am seeing a grotto….there are icons of Mary and canonized saints….the candles lit are glowing…. In the center there’s a book table and I saw the Bible with an open page….I was amazingly surprised at this incongruity ….What is surprising is that there is no icon worship in the Holy Scriptures ….

A Nigerian Scam
I got a very strange letter. A person introduced himself as Dominic Richards. He told me that he has read my works and is very impressed and he also said that he was a judge for the Nobel nominating literary clique. However he said I have to pay him 10% as commission in advance. Yes, truth is stranger than fiction.