Guest guest Posted February 29, 2004 Report Share Posted February 29, 2004 They are driven by a strange desire, roaming from town to town, crossing rivers and mountains, never staying, never truly leaving. They nestle in the heart of children, the taste of Indra's pearls. Harlequins, Clowns, Bearded Women, Freaks, Fire-eaters, Wizards, Acrobats and Philosophers, Oracles and Prophetess. They move conversely to the sun bringing warmth in the winter and, a salty, chilly breeze in the summer. They are driven by a strange desire; these nomads of the eternal instant, don't build castles and pyramids, labyrinths and illusions, they know, they are illusion; infatuating, staggering and all-embracing. by inventing move, they ramble by inventing joy, they laugh by inventing passion, they love by inventing trance, they dance they pray, by inventing God. Like crazy and strange inconformists, they fit in no box, in no drawer, nothing is small or big enough for them. Like fine dust, subtle powder, they corrode the joints of melancholy. Like the water of the sea, they corrode the mechanics of dreams. Like oxygen and warm humidity, they leave in every tarn the promise, of eternal life. They are driven by a strange desire, a black cherry in their hands, kissing the sky, organics of Krishna's mantra. They are driven by a strange desire, unseen by the shape of eyes, only reflected upon the iris of children. sk Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted February 29, 2004 Report Share Posted February 29, 2004 Damn! Your poetry is getting serious. Did you write this in English? If the original is in any other language, please post it. Thanks, Pete Nisargadatta , " sk000005 " <sk000005> wrote: > They are driven by a strange desire, > roaming from town to town, > crossing rivers and mountains, > never staying, never truly leaving. > They nestle in the heart of children, > the taste of Indra's pearls. > Harlequins, Clowns, Bearded Women, > Freaks, Fire-eaters, Wizards, > Acrobats and Philosophers, > Oracles and Prophetess. > They move conversely to the sun > bringing warmth in the winter and, > a salty, chilly breeze in the summer. > They are driven by a strange desire; > these nomads of the eternal instant, > don't build castles and pyramids, > labyrinths and illusions, > they know, they are illusion; > infatuating, staggering and all-embracing. > by inventing move, they ramble > by inventing joy, they laugh > by inventing passion, they love > by inventing trance, they dance > they pray, by inventing God. > Like crazy and strange inconformists, > they fit in no box, in no drawer, > nothing is small or big enough for them. > Like fine dust, subtle powder, > they corrode the joints of melancholy. > Like the water of the sea, > they corrode the mechanics of dreams. > Like oxygen and warm humidity, > they leave in every tarn the promise, > of eternal life. > They are driven by a strange desire, > a black cherry in their hands, > kissing the sky, > organics of Krishna's mantra. > They are driven by a strange desire, > unseen by the shape of eyes, > only reflected upon the iris of children. > > > sk Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted February 29, 2004 Report Share Posted February 29, 2004 Did you write this in English? > If the original is in any other language, please post it. Thanks, Pete. I wrote it directly in English. With help of an on- line dictionary sk Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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