I have

I have many friends

Some are professors

some are intellectuals

some are loosers

some are boosers

some are evil

some are kind

I honestly don't mind.

Many are artist

Many are thinkers

Many are walkers, many are sleepers.

There are blacks there are white.

I open my heart to all who don't bite.

well,  if they do, I love the fight.

and then there are my fans

and more....and what is the point in this all?

It is how dear you all are to me,

to be there and just to be..

you teach me, you  please me and sometimes make me so mad.

you advise...don't need that....you tell the stories, you say, you hear

you take away my fear.

so the life is not so bad.


Thank you for that.

My art is no art without

My Art is no art 
Without my mind's simplicity.


My Art does not want      
To subscribe to the view
That unhappiness
Commands the world.


When I paint or draw,
I keep my mind's thought-garden
Completely free of self-doubt-weeds.
  

My Art is the hide-and-seek      
Between my soul's illumining smiles    
And my heart's streaming tears.



The Artist in me has three  
Faithful, sleepless    
And self-giving friends:
A newness-eye, a oneness-heart
And a fulness-life.
  


The heart of my Art      
And the heart of a child
Are extremely fond of each other.
They love each other deeply;
They need each other constantly;
They are interdependent, sleeplessly.
  


My mind says that anything I do
Is too insignificant
Because I am wanting
In qualification.    
Needless to say,
This includes my Artwork.    
   

My heart says that anything I do
Is too significant
Because the God-Touch    
Is always there.
Needless to say,
This includes my Artwork.
 

The moment I start painting,  
I clearly see my soul-meditation
Is blessingfully clasping
My heart-aspiration-flames.
 


First things first: 
The Artist in me,
Before embarking on his Artwork,
Invariably catches
His heart's aspiration-express.
 


True, in my Art I want to see
The face of earth's beauty.
But I want to see
The heart of Heaven's Divinity    
More, infinitely more.

By: Sri Chinmoy

• Art of Sri Chinmoy

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© Copyright 2007, Sri Chinmoy Poetry

---

There are

Long journey from dispair to the happiness, but just one step from happiness to the dispair.

There was

There was a lady
that wanted to care....

She tried and she tried, she gave all what she got,

for what?

Completely bare.

For those, it was just you and you and you..

nothing more....
nothing less.

She wanted it too....

But how could she...there was nothing....and soul was raw....

James Eagan Layne, Plymouth, UK

Don't say ther is not coral in English waters....

There are coral in English Channel and here is a proof...

It's a penetration