File spoon-archives/sa-cyborgs.archive/sa-cyborgs_2000/sa-cyborgs.0005, message 25


From: "Sterling Hart" <Pravritti-AT-email.msn.com>
Subject: Ranja 4
Date: Thu, 25 May 2000 09:05:57 +0100


This is a multi-part message in MIME format.


4 Ranja

Quietly driving
watching the petty angers
The odd kinship of a shared situation.
Sometime one, sometimes the other
As if a switch were throne.
Within my body's protection
Or in the subtle state directly perceived
Wave after wave of hatred came
Into the golden light of Kali's smile.
Undisturbed it shined compassionately
Insecurities, angers and arguments,
Depressions, sadnesses,
I felt in the distance,
Heard their voices on the edges of my mind.
The abysmal
the black
The failure
It was the poem
Of the quadriplegic
triple amputee
Who returned from the eastern front
Homeless
Family dead
To Germany.

I strode in a plane of distant mountains
Taller than mountains can be
With a grove of single leafed trees
Umbrella palms
In the hanging gardens of the Mother
Her force flew me in to the white temple
Snow blinded by stones.
The flowers held knowledge.
Each a spiritual aspiration
they were the expression of karmic events
manifesting the history of the earth.
In splendorous colors unsensored
Too vast for my comprehension
The glimpses were feelings, notes
Of vast symphonies in harmony.
All the worlds music in a many petaled bliss.
Nada.
Bindu.
Here a green circle of moss translated me to times past
A sun compass of life
A temporal intervention
The transcendent, universal, individual
Changed your fate.
Kali's ray
Continuum of manifestation
The soul touch of Ranja
Universalized beyond time
The changes divine
Like a rewritten memory.
The book of the prophets appeared facing me on a shelf.
Its spine to the front
It had turned its back on me
Showing me its cover
It was a pineapple beaver
On a deep desert dune.
An enslaver from a forgotten novel.
It was the truth of a falsehood
Recognition of God in the falsehood
The working of truth that was wrong.
Shiva's trident held a house plant upright,
But it had grown free and reached out for the light.
Jai Guru Devi!
Jai Maheshwari!

Prophetic modalities in times past and future shaping
The past written with the future known as an original unfolding.
It was is will.

There was the power of the full vision
worked into a limited Maya of a moment.
The technology of consciousness held in living organisms
The ones of conscious adaptation of the biosphere on earth.
Self-consciousness nature expressing itself through the new species.
It held itself with a harmony and spoke to each life
Each life contributing to the self-conscious whole
As one body of the earth.
Not a nature preserve regulated by mentalities
Not a lawn mowed or a pretty garden sowed.
It knew and spoke with roots to bacteria
It organized the ants and the wildflowers
Found the atmosphere incense and prana
An instrument of the truth light,
No longer simply grasping at the sun.
It illuminated all things
Even bringing forth the darkness.

There was the active expression towards a specific end.
The mask of influence given domain.
The masked scales could do no justice for the murdered self.

An expression that created not a purpose,
That held no truth in its own light
An unconscious crucible for other to say.
It created the space where others found their power.

She had never known spiritual love
Only an affection and possession.
Possessed by it.
She had sought but not discovered her spiritual wealth
A mirror of her being not a vanity of her ego.

For a week in England she talked about her past
She Said,
Vajrayogini
Understanding the rising image of herself
Through the feedback
And strangled it with the same theme
Of non acceptance.
Her mother looming large in the shadow of her death.
For years you wrote to me
For years I helped your mother
Supporting you
When I rested you hospitalized her.
I tired in the black image of you that arose.
You were no longer giving.
You had become like her.
I saw you come shortly after you died
The body of you with the expression of horror.
The horror came many times only to meet the loving eyes.
I could see the rotting pig head on the mantel above the fire.
The sheaths, vital and physical losing form
The hold on people was gone.
They began to adapt to a fallen tree
An untended meadow.
Agni was within me
Keeping me warm and passionate.

My own image of you in which I carried
The light, threading lines of forces,
Now dimmed and distorted
Reflected the concentration.
The identity displayed elements that decayed.

My heart released energies.
I called and they returned
>From the stage as it was torn down.

He had given the teachings
For protection to those who healing.
I had sought evolution,
Sita protected me.
My first sign was the owl of death.
The one who had physically appeared so many times
Only now was a picture on a pop machine
In the Minneapolis airport.
A sign.

She kept him after the affair to be useful
And ignored his frequent advances.
She watched him schedule his wife around her.
She was not interested in him, in that,
In seeing him at his flat,
She was interested in him doing things to help her.
She kept him.
She mothered him as herself.
Was I there to see her?
She by passed the boyfriend
To create the space for me.
Was he an anchor to a life away from India
Unseen for months?
You did not go to him when he returned.
You said it was over before I left.
A stable point of disapproval
To her mother's racist issues of social acceptance
That is the reality.
I disbelieved not unlike Orpheus.

She couldn't see in my eyes.
My digital picture shows a wrinkle line
Prominent around her neck.

Following a trail of spent lightening bolts
I found Ram's quiver.
To the deer of the forest
And the women of tomorrow
The dance was a blinding.
The God triumphant glory
Was experienced in its degrees
As individual truths realized themselves
One by one.

It was no God that approached her but a vanity
Of brilliant mental illumination.
Vivek turned to the task of pecking
The wounded chickens of the self.
Critical Mass of mentality
Worse then the Pope of science edicting the influence of the stars
In the genetic profiles of diet habits and exercises.
Dispositions to be dispossessed
Gaveled rhythms in the sky.

Knowledge had no place when the world is false.
Energy had no call unless the full knowledge is realized.
It was a time of insidious lies.
Does the mudra, rhythm and mantra hold a key
To the devotional powers that transform our heart?
Create a movement based on classical training.
>From the ego display and control
Milk of fame
Milk of travel and importance.
Does it give shape to the consciousness?
To the body?
The character?
The drives of our passions?
Anger and desire mixed and fueled by the fires of movements
Yet these movements can return as the faithful expression of the body.
The locked up imbalances of our memories expressed
The soulful lesion denied into cancer.
It was no cancer
She denied it to me.
She denied it to an unborn child
To the changes of careers that others were to make.
Don't even mention it.
She didn't.
A clever political manipulation to avoid the stigma?
I witnessed my friend fall sick to waves of anger
The killing of her self had not found a space in my love.
That sailed to the real light of the spirit
That I saw within
Within us all.
The forces struck me as a shadow the sun
And crept into weak places
Where mother and daughters seanced the dead
And stole secrets with the forms enduring for awhile behind the veil.
A phone call from an acquaintance the morning she fell sick with the flu
Awakened nightmares of Ranja and her whips.
To say it was cancer.
The message didn't reach me,
But it acted on her.
To the dead we owe respect, to the living we only owe the truth?
Death is the falsehood
Past memories its lingers to say no more.
It was the attempt to sing Sitaji's praises when she looks up to you
in humility.
For the truth is my eternal gratitude to the Divine.

The ordinary divinity
Of the mustard weed
Seeded into the light of Christ's New Kingdom.
A windup environment told you what it meant to be
Indian-American,
Stage fancy,
Incredible body of desire's movements.
Reflections upon the outer call
You found the found Critical mental Mass
The teaching for the sleeping
That everyone denied.
The politic infested meditation center
Of the Swadistana
That asked whether you could use myth
In the seminar in Amsterdam.
As you found the ego indulged pieces
Integrated
The token third world dancer
On committee
Of the modern tradition.
You said of your spirit
Revealed
The threat in the theater of a scary movie
Is not a Christian thrown to the lions
But Krishna's dishonor in the war.
A prophetic modality of time
The environmental power of the spirit
Intimidating the rivals
Attracting mates play.
Through the fossilized time
We see the display.
Seed of the ancestors
Spear of the hunter
Slave of the past
>From body to body mothers.
This momentum moved
The self-moved prime dancer
changed time
the soul touched
universal dancer.
I found it again after you were gone
At Anindoji's mastery
An echo of you came through
Touched me lightly
Through the clouded voices
Of your spiritual failure
And your opera tune Homicide.
You projected on me not your teacher (Cassandra]
You display your body of moving
The compassion and spiritual need
In a skin organ
Conforming like clothing.
On the plane through the window
I saw the crude manipulation of the elements
And the living growth of the conscious organisms
Responsive to the flow of feeling and need.

The soul seeks beauty.
The soul seeks power.
The soul seeks vision.

"It was the first time I ever talked about my spirituality in public.
I was surprised several women came up and thanked me afterward
For saying that."

I am asking you to be.
Dance expression to be an expression of spirit.
To become conscious of the action of the force within you
On the audience with the full knowledge.

"I am battling the dark forces within me."

Kali's freedom came as spontaneous flow.
The dancer came without the social trappings
With out boxes or flags,
But from the awakened heart sprang forth
Universalized in a thousands faces,
Seen in a million hands,
Sounded by delicate feet stamped with God's seal.

"You'll die of exposure."

As I could see
Past
Nixon's corn blighted
Order for stability against the nuclear fear,
The crop looked lost.
One seed remained.
Pioneer mastered the market
For Nixon to decide.
Transgenetics spoke to global warming
To blight, pestilence
It Joeled them into aliens,
Joeled them to a new species,
And the self-aware Gaia
Awakened in the hearts
And was felt and recognized.
The energy measured and articulated
By lesser sciences,
Given in flowers
The vital joy of Alarmel Valli
That beamed from her heart
And shook me with the joy of exertion
Erotic
It shot through my eyes to her
And she saw the intensity and smiled.
I knew that surgery released the anger
And the surgeons had no knowledge of how to direct it.
I saw her dance on the leaf of my monitor
And directly felt the consciousness.
Gone were the symbolic representations,
Words,
Media players,
Fell to harvest shear.
The trees danced their energy
Sky nadis flowed with rain.
The biosphere stretched and flowed into asanas
Called rain forest and desert.
The world was overgrown with teeming life.
Tumble trees rolled over the sprawling cities
Densed with growing things in every possible place.

In China they planted a hub tree
That channeled the energy for miles
An organizing consciousness
That knew unity as its home,
For the superficial 4H Mr. Green genes.

The fever lasted for days.
Awakening in meditation
Your image came and stepped
With a deep lunge raising your heart towards the sky
With a warrior salute.
This symbol rearranged
And articulated my aspiration.
It slowly was able to make my mental transformation
So that I might articulate and make its action felt.

It was nearly a year and a half later before
The time of intense martial practice
I saw you again as living flesh.
I knew you existed
That you were real
A person.
I saw you lunge and call upward
Ganga descended.
The spiritual force leaving me energized with the evolutionary urge
>From the white light of involutionary surge
I found it within me.

You spoke the next day as I sat in the rear.
You stopped in the middle and explained how the structure
Had lead you to improvise on the stage.
"The structure of traditional dance left me with a feeling of these hands
pressing on my throat."
You gestured while you spoke.
Even then you were hanging yourself.

Pravritti-AT-msn.com
Sterling Hart



HTML VERSION:

4 Ranja

Quietly driving
watching the petty angers
The odd kinship of a shared situation.
Sometime one, sometimes the other
As if a switch were throne.
Within my body's protection
Or in the subtle state directly perceived
Wave after wave of hatred came
Into the golden light of Kali's smile.
Undisturbed it shined compassionately
Insecurities, angers and arguments,
Depressions, sadnesses,
I felt in the distance,
Heard their voices on the edges of my mind.
The abysmal
the black
The failure
It was the poem
Of the quadriplegic
triple amputee
Who returned from the eastern front
Homeless
Family dead
To Germany.

I strode in a plane of distant mountains
Taller than mountains can be
With a grove of single leafed trees
Umbrella palms
In the hanging gardens of the Mother
Her force flew me in to the white temple
Snow blinded by stones.
The flowers held knowledge.
Each a spiritual aspiration
they were the expression of karmic events
manifesting the history of the earth.
In splendorous colors unsensored
Too vast for my comprehension
The glimpses were feelings, notes
Of vast symphonies in harmony.
All the worlds music in a many petaled bliss.
Nada.
Bindu.
Here a green circle of moss translated me to times past
A sun compass of life
A temporal intervention
The transcendent, universal, individual
Changed your fate.
Kali's ray
Continuum of manifestation
The soul touch of Ranja
Universalized beyond time
The changes divine
Like a rewritten memory.
The book of the prophets appeared facing me on a shelf.
Its spine to the front
It had turned its back on me
Showing me its cover
It was a pineapple beaver
On a deep desert dune.
An enslaver from a forgotten novel.
It was the truth of a falsehood
Recognition of God in the falsehood
The working of truth that was wrong.
Shiva's trident held a house plant upright,
But it had grown free and reached out for the light.
Jai Guru Devi!
Jai Maheshwari!

Prophetic modalities in times past and future shaping
The past written with the future known as an original unfolding.
It was is will.

There was the power of the full vision
worked into a limited Maya of a moment.
The technology of consciousness held in living organisms
The ones of conscious adaptation of the biosphere on earth.
Self-consciousness nature expressing itself through the new species.
It held itself with a harmony and spoke to each life
Each life contributing to the self-conscious whole
As one body of the earth.
Not a nature preserve regulated by mentalities
Not a lawn mowed or a pretty garden sowed.
It knew and spoke with roots to bacteria
It organized the ants and the wildflowers
Found the atmosphere incense and prana
An instrument of the truth light,
No longer simply grasping at the sun.
It illuminated all things
Even bringing forth the darkness.

There was the active expression towards a specific end.
The mask of influence given domain.
The masked scales could do no justice for the murdered self.

An expression that created not a purpose,
That held no truth in its own light
An unconscious crucible for other to say.
It created the space where others found their power.

She had never known spiritual love
Only an affection and possession.
Possessed by it.
She had sought but not discovered her spiritual wealth
A mirror of her being not a vanity of her ego.

For a week in England she talked about her past
She Said,
Vajrayogini
Understanding the rising image of herself
Through the feedback
And strangled it with the same theme
Of non acceptance.
Her mother looming large in the shadow of her death.
For years you wrote to me
For years I helped your mother
Supporting you
When I rested you hospitalized her.
I tired in the black image of you that arose.
You were no longer giving.
You had become like her.
I saw you come shortly after you died
The body of you with the expression of horror.
The horror came many times only to meet the loving eyes.
I could see the rotting pig head on the mantel above the fire.
The sheaths, vital and physical losing form
The hold on people was gone.
They began to adapt to a fallen tree
An untended meadow.
Agni was within me
Keeping me warm and passionate.

My own image of you in which I carried
The light, threading lines of forces,
Now dimmed and distorted
Reflected the concentration.
The identity displayed elements that decayed.

My heart released energies.
I called and they returned
From the stage as it was torn down.

He had given the teachings
For protection to those who healing.
I had sought evolution,
Sita protected me.
My first sign was the owl of death.
The one who had physically appeared so many times
Only now was a picture on a pop machine
In the Minneapolis airport.
A sign.

She kept him after the affair to be useful
And ignored his frequent advances.
She watched him schedule his wife around her.
She was not interested in him, in that,
In seeing him at his flat,
She was interested in him doing things to help her.
She kept him.
She mothered him as herself.
Was I there to see her?
She by passed the boyfriend
To create the space for me.
Was he an anchor to a life away from India
Unseen for months?
You did not go to him when he returned.
You said it was over before I left.
A stable point of disapproval
To her mother's racist issues of social acceptance
That is the reality.
I disbelieved not unlike Orpheus.

She couldn't see in my eyes.
My digital picture shows a wrinkle line
Prominent around her neck.

Following a trail of spent lightening bolts
I found Ram's quiver.
To the deer of the forest
And the women of tomorrow
The dance was a blinding.
The God triumphant glory
Was experienced in its degrees
As individual truths realized themselves
One by one.

It was no God that approached her but a vanity
Of brilliant mental illumination.
Vivek turned to the task of pecking
The wounded chickens of the self.
Critical Mass of mentality
Worse then the Pope of science edicting the influence of the stars
In the genetic profiles of diet habits and exercises.
Dispositions to be dispossessed
Gaveled rhythms in the sky.

Knowledge had no place when the world is false.
Energy had no call unless the full knowledge is realized.
It was a time of insidious lies.
Does the mudra, rhythm and mantra hold a key
To the devotional powers that transform our heart?
Create a movement based on classical training.
From the ego display and control
Milk of fame
Milk of travel and importance.
Does it give shape to the consciousness?
To the body?
The character?
The drives of our passions?
Anger and desire mixed and fueled by the fires of movements
Yet these movements can return as the faithful expression of the body.
The locked up imbalances of our memories expressed
The soulful lesion denied into cancer.
It was no cancer
She denied it to me.
She denied it to an unborn child
To the changes of careers that others were to make.
Don't even mention it.
She didn't.
A clever political manipulation to avoid the stigma?
I witnessed my friend fall sick to waves of anger
The killing of her self had not found a space in my love.
That sailed to the real light of the spirit
That I saw within
Within us all.
The forces struck me as a shadow the sun
And crept into weak places
Where mother and daughters seanced the dead
And stole secrets with the forms enduring for awhile behind the veil.
A phone call from an acquaintance the morning she fell sick with the flu
Awakened nightmares of Ranja and her whips.
To say it was cancer.
The message didn't reach me,
But it acted on her.
To the dead we owe respect, to the living we only owe the truth?
Death is the falsehood
Past memories its lingers to say no more.
It was the attempt to sing Sitaji's praises when she looks up to you
in humility.
For the truth is my eternal gratitude to the Divine.

The ordinary divinity
Of the mustard weed
Seeded into the light of Christ's New Kingdom.
A windup environment told you what it meant to be
Indian-American,
Stage fancy,
Incredible body of desire's movements.
Reflections upon the outer call
You found the found Critical mental Mass
The teaching for the sleeping
That everyone denied.
The politic infested meditation center
Of the Swadistana
That asked whether you could use myth
In the seminar in Amsterdam.
As you found the ego indulged pieces
Integrated
The token third world dancer
On committee
Of the modern tradition.
You said of your spirit
Revealed
The threat in the theater of a scary movie
Is not a Christian thrown to the lions
But Krishna's dishonor in the war.
A prophetic modality of time
The environmental power of the spirit
Intimidating the rivals
Attracting mates play.
Through the fossilized time
We see the display.
Seed of the ancestors
Spear of the hunter
Slave of the past
From body to body mothers.
This momentum moved
The self-moved prime dancer
changed time
the soul touched
universal dancer.
I found it again after you were gone
At Anindoji's mastery
An echo of you came through
Touched me lightly
Through the clouded voices
Of your spiritual failure
And your opera tune Homicide.
You projected on me not your teacher (Cassandra]
You display your body of moving
The compassion and spiritual need
In a skin organ
Conforming like clothing.
On the plane through the window
I saw the crude manipulation of the elements
And the living growth of the conscious organisms
Responsive to the flow of feeling and need.

The soul seeks beauty.
The soul seeks power.
The soul seeks vision.

"It was the first time I ever talked about my spirituality in public.
I was surprised several women came up and thanked me afterward
For saying that."

I am asking you to be.
Dance expression to be an expression of spirit.
To become conscious of the action of the force within you
On the audience with the full knowledge.

"I am battling the dark forces within me."

Kali's freedom came as spontaneous flow.
The dancer came without the social trappings
With out boxes or flags,
But from the awakened heart sprang forth
Universalized in a thousands faces,
Seen in a million hands,
Sounded by delicate feet stamped with God's seal.

"You'll die of exposure."

As I could see
Past
Nixon's corn blighted
Order for stability against the nuclear fear,
The crop looked lost.
One seed remained.
Pioneer mastered the market
For Nixon to decide.
Transgenetics spoke to global warming
To blight, pestilence
It Joeled them into aliens,
Joeled them to a new species,
And the self-aware Gaia
Awakened in the hearts
And was felt and recognized.
The energy measured and articulated
By lesser sciences,
Given in flowers
The vital joy of Alarmel Valli
That beamed from her heart
And shook me with the joy of exertion
Erotic
It shot through my eyes to her
And she saw the intensity and smiled.
I knew that surgery released the anger
And the surgeons had no knowledge of how to direct it.
I saw her dance on the leaf of my monitor
And directly felt the consciousness.
Gone were the symbolic representations,
Words,
Media players,
Fell to harvest shear.
The trees danced their energy
Sky nadis flowed with rain.
The biosphere stretched and flowed into asanas
Called rain forest and desert.
The world was overgrown with teeming life.
Tumble trees rolled over the sprawling cities
Densed with growing things in every possible place.

In China they planted a hub tree
That channeled the energy for miles
An organizing consciousness
That knew unity as its home,
For the superficial 4H Mr. Green genes.

The fever lasted for days.
Awakening in meditation
Your image came and stepped
With a deep lunge raising your heart towards the sky
With a warrior salute.
This symbol rearranged
And articulated my aspiration.
It slowly was able to make my mental transformation
So that I might articulate and make its action felt.

It was nearly a year and a half later before
The time of intense martial practice
I saw you again as living flesh.
I knew you existed
That you were real
A person.
I saw you lunge and call upward
Ganga descended.
The spiritual force leaving me energized with the evolutionary urge
From the white light of involutionary surge
I found it within me.

You spoke the next day as I sat in the rear.
You stopped in the middle and explained how the structure
Had lead you to improvise on the stage.
"The structure of traditional dance left me with a feeling of these hands
pressing on my throat."
You gestured while you spoke.
Even then you were hanging yourself.

Pravritti-AT-msn.com
Sterling Hart


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