I’m getting overgrown
by ivy and will die
by strangling
And there’s
absolutely nothing
I can do about it
– Niebla (© 2024)
Author’s note
This poem was inspired by the tree shown in the photo, which is in full bloom now despite it all.
I’m getting overgrown
by ivy and will die
by strangling
And there’s
absolutely nothing
I can do about it
– Niebla (© 2024)
Author’s note
This poem was inspired by the tree shown in the photo, which is in full bloom now despite it all.
Way, way before Big Data, zillions of years before Tik-Tok there was the Akasha Chronicle to record everything. The first humanoid to get drunk on rotten fruit? It’s been recorded. Mudi jumping off a cliff to avoid getting killed by the drowning of Atlantis? It’s there in all photographic detail. Not that it saved him. Plato’s first gurgle as a baby? Recorded! Abraham taking Isaac up the hill to the altar? Recorded! Isaac holding a paternal grudge for ever? Recorded! First time ever someone got eaten by a crocodile in Australia? Recorded! Gautama’s eating habits before he settled for rice and dal? Recorded! Hittite love songs? Death rattle of the last tyrannosaurus? Cleopatra’s first wrinkle? That poor guy Moses killed? All recorded. You’re surprised that Amazon remembers your very first purchase two decades ago and keeps reminding you to stock up on similar products? Think again: the Chronicle keeps proposing the most amazing things from your past that you’re not aware of at all. Like giving you another chance with A. B., who was your wife, your grandpa, your cell mate, someone who loved you, someone who killed you, someone you herded goats with at different times – hundreds or thousands or millions of years ago. It all boils down to when you were one when it all began. The Chronicle knows. It even knows when Big Data was baptized, when it had its first hiccup, its first bout with mental illness.
– Sri Shantibindo (© 2024)
The cards that life deals come at any time, and the number of cards in the deck is unknown.
– Niebla (© 2023)
When the cat was yawning
and stretching himself
after a prolonged nap
this morning, I said to him,
“We’re kindred spirits,
you and I – neither of us
has a plan, and we both
leave it all up to providence.”
– Niebla (© 2023)
“I have the feeling I’m in a preparation phase. But I’ve been in that phase for years – too long. And preparing for what? What is the solution, Swami?”
“You have to end this phase.”
“But –“
“And that’s the end of this session,” said Swami Vaporananda.
(Lore from the practice of Swami Vaporananda.)
Source: Cuento de dos jardínes, in Octavio Paz, Ladera Este, 1969. English translation by Johannes Beilharz.
Alephael and Belarael ran into each other in a celestial hallway. Belarael waved and was about to simply walk on, when Alephael took him by the sleeve.
“I just created a new fruit on Earth!”
“Congratulations, Aleph! You certainly keep busy.”
“I’m calling it cherry. I tasted it myself – it’s delicious, if I may say so.”
“Well done, man!”
“Humans will love it. Not to mention birds. And it’s quite healthy as well. Lots of vitamins.”
Belarael gave him a good long stare right in the face.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Bela?”
“It won’t take me long to develop a pest for your cherries. You know that, I suppose.”
Alephael sighed.
“Don’t worry, Aleph, old chap! Can’t make it too easy for those humans, can you? There’s got to be at least one thistle in every field. Says so in the manual.”
And gave Alephael a parting slap on the back as he went on merrily towards his lab.
– Niebla (© 2022)
Not much good recent news for Mother Earth, I’m afraid. In particular, she’s getting impregnated with shells, mines and dead bodies in Ukraine, and the rest is no better: deforestation, CO2, plastic all over, toxic waste. Thank God some people are planting trees somewhere … in a feeble attempt to counteract it all.
Brief ramblings from a pessimist.
Sorry, folks!
– Niebla (© 2022)
Slander
Slander! Slander!
People deride me –
folks truly love
to smear and tarnish.
Slander’s my father,
slander’s my mother.
If your name has been blackened,
you’ll go to Vaikuntha –
the true Name’s meaning
will set itself in your mind.
There’s so much calumny,
my heart’s purified –
my vilifier
scrubs my clothes clean.
Whoever maligns me
is my friend –
my heart goes out
to every detractor.
The one who stops decrying me
is my real critic –
such a denouncer
vexes my life.
Defamation’s
my dearly beloved –
revilement puts me
in its debt.
Everybody
slings mud at Kabir –
my denigrator drowns,
I land on the other shore.
– Kabir (1398-1448)
From Kabir – The Weaver’s Songs, translated by Vinay Dharwadker (Penguin Books India, 2003)
Kabir in his finest satirical mood. The response to slander given here is reminiscent of Jesus’ turning of the other cheek.
I always thought the Big Bang was simply a theory among others. Lately I get the feeling it’s become accepted scientific truth.
What really interests me, though, is what there was before the Big Bang. The Great Big Nothing?
– Niebla (© 2022)
Photo credit: Johannes Beilharz