my first day in Kathmandu.


Awaken to a rainbow garden

Bedecked with sneaky slits of sunlight

Where butter rains and fills your pores

And the gods put up a good fight.

Awaken to a pond of flowers

Self-arising in its motion

Slowly waving, then just parting

While the frogs rub on some lotion.

Shiva falls into

the deepest Chasm

while National Pride

has a weakening spasm.

No one can get that drugged out

boy to leave our breakfast table.

No one can climb a staircase

in quality quicksand.

There’s no bug or beast that

can raise a limb

and offer a suggestion.

This city is an ongoing web

in the shape of an ever-expanding

oval sphere, inhabited by every

possible sensory pleasure, by every

conceivable suffering; though diffuse,

it can be tasted everywhere.

Brother Self-Arising Star said: it

makes perfect sense that

in holy places there’s

more grime, more seediness, more

evil, because there’s where the

demons come to test out their skills.

I don’t think I’m a demon

but get the feeling with every instant

and occasion

in this place

that it might be good to

try out my skills too.

But the range of needs might be too

vast; I might not have that kind

of utility belt — these kinds of thoughts

cannot hold sway for more than a flash in being-time

or they shall perish my legions of warriors

which emanate from within.

With throbbing pulses of words transforming

resounding silence from inside

transforming words that find their homes

in my heart,

then out towards the sky

That’s how I’ll walk the streets,

talk and bargain with shopkeepers.

It’s a Given;

it streams down even to my feet

and I need it.

Oh i need it.

Kathmandu, Nepal

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