“Sriman Narayan Narayan Hari Hari. Teri leela sabse nyari nyari”.
(Sriman is a term of endearment and respect), Narayan means one who resides inside every soul (represented by water / nar- ayan ), as the Supreme Truth. The Supreme Truth has the Supreme Personality and performs the most unique (Supreme) pastimes or activities (leelas). Harimeans the One who takes away everything, beginning with your worldly miseries to your ignorance, and finally your self!
Om Namo Narayana is the mantra to surrender to Him! 23 minutes of bliss!
This singer is unbelievably talented.
birds were in the garden
cats were floating in sleep
drops of clear light were clinging to the ropes
hugging themselves into drops
dreamers streaming into one
the lettuce was high and dirty
spicy ones small and stretching
the food of the wings, clamoring at their roots
910. Swound Sound Radioshow - 7.6.2014
1st hour: Makossa & Sugar B
2nd hour: Karmon
SWOUND on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SWOUNDSOUND
additional downloads: http://www.sendspace.com/file/x1d2sm
at least # 3, 6 and 20
On Facebook, a friend recently linked to an article called 20 Tools for Men to Further Feminist Revolution. Although he liked the list, he (correctly) noted that most of the suggestions were quite academic.*
His comments have prompted me to create a list of more practical tools. Most…
At Under1roof this weekend, and it was well worth the subway ride.
This photographer was slick, got a photo of me playing in the lights…a photo of me in my glasses, rarer still. It’s true, I was there, at a family-style art beginning. What a great neighborhood, and what a warm feeling from Lady and all the artists she curated for this event. Congratulations to everyone involved and congratulations to the world, for gaining more strength in art. <3
Last night I hopscotched the city, walked the south side of 5th Avenue, visiting ghosts. I thought of Nuala and our classes at NYU, where through a few spoken words, she made me a writer. I follow the path, stand in awe of the spring flowers. I quietly sing and raise my arms above my head as students and hustlers sing “Let It Be.” Past the open doorways, past the small bars and velvet ropes, I keep walking this short and unremarkable pilgrimage, until finally I land at a small café warm with memories, and music from the 90s. Over a cup of tea, I appreciate the view from my table, of life in all its quite Monday night glory, in the taxis, drunkards and half-sleeping workers. I look down at my table and decide it’s as magical as anything, as the takeout counter or a glass of beer, and I decide that my dreams are tied to places like Albuquerque and Durango.
#dreams #cafe #stories #latergram http://ift.tt/1hNRs9g
As a consequence of the slavish “categoryitis” the scientifically illogical, and as we shall see, often meaningless questions
“Where do you live?”
“What are you?”
are all thought of today as logical questions.
By the twenty-first century
it either will have become evident to humanity that these questions are absurd and anti-evolutionary or men will no longer be living on Earth.
If you don’t comprehend why that is
so, listen to me closely.
~Buckminster Fuller, Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth
|—||A free PDF copy of Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth is available HERE|
in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don’t know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.
And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
likeness, image of
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.
|—||Today, we need to get drunk like Neruda.|