Talking birds
15 March 2020
Springtime dew
Drops on daffodils
Grass that sprouts
All about
My mind running wild with bees
Larks that morning frees
Summer breeze
Seeping through winter
Blinded herds
Haughty nerds
Of the meanings that become
Lost messages hummed
Symphonies
Stretching in the sun
Talking birds
Swirling words
Of the moments that I sum
With my heart’s fingers
Reading of the poem :
Max Richter – Dream 3 (in the midst of my life)
The Human Experiment
14 March 2020
I was reading today a 2017 article about Quantum theory and the “observer effect”. I have always been convinced since early adulthood that we not only react to our surroundings but can interact with our surroundings in a deeper way than by just the physical touch. This conviction was held earlier in the form of a guesstimate that there was something out there reflecting what was inside and I used to be a very dreamy child convinced that I was not from “down here”. Thankfully my parents were not the type who were intent on making their child prosaic and aware of their circumstances so I was left to myself to think whatever I wanted.
I remember once when I was little my elder sister hanging from the iron bars outside the window, covered in insects and telling me she was going to die and I had a feeling this meant she was going to fly away to the stars like the butterfly my father had shown us once transforming from a caterpillar. I was so convinced that I was not from here that I kept to myself most of the time and had very little friends. It was as if I was waiting to leave at any moment in time and would therefore prefer not to be burdened by separations. The stories our father told us or that my elder sisters read out or gave me to read increased this level of dreaminess and expectations of great miracles of the mind on matter.
Starting from the year 2010, I became increasingly convinced that there was an intimate interaction between our hearts, our minds and not only Earth but the whole Universe out there. I started writing from that feeling and a lot of my poetry became infused with that thought or conviction. From that time onwards, I carried out a series of experiments on myself and my surroundings to see whether my moods, my beliefs and thoughts could indeed change my surroundings and the events in my life. It is difficult to say whether this happened or not as this could only be measured by experiencing the same life without this experimentation which is, today at least, virtually impossible. In 2016, however, I realized that the fact of wanting to carry out this experimentation had given rise within me of a sort of entity which remained aloof from everything felt or carried out and which I termed “inner observer” to which I dedicated the poem “Finding inner observer” which I am giving the link for here (https://geethaprodhom.wordpress.com/2016/03/16/finding-inner-observer/).
I continue to carry out experimentation on myself using my feelings and thoughts to observe what is the outcome of those feelings and thoughts on my life and although I wish I were able in parallel to carry out a human experiment with different feelings and thoughts and have someone else observe the effects, I find it interesting to note that positive feelings and thoughts do indeed make my situation better while negative feelings and thoughts make my life spiral downwards. What was more interesting to note was that negative feelings and thoughts spiraled downwards much quicker and created life surroundings and circumstances which were much worse than on the positive scale upwards.
If any of you have carried out such human experiments, I would be glad to hear from you in the comments section. Meanwhile, please find below the link to the BBC article which while a bit old is quite interesting and I leave you with those thoughts and as usual with a link to a video on youtube I hope you will enjoy listening to while reading this or going on with your daily activities.
http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20170215-the-strange-link-between-the-human-mind-and-quantum-physics
Thomas Feiner – The Rainbow
Before the silken reed
13 March 2020
I looked at growing weed
Where two swans glided peacefully
Before the silken reed
They beckoned it seemed up to me
Had they heard my unspoken sighs
Thoughts of you, my solace?
Water hen flew across the skies
In criss-cross drew your face
I knelt still upon the boulder
That had the ice withstood
In love we could grow much bolder
Could we? I thought we should
Reading of the poem:
Song of Return – Saint of Sin
I dreamt upon a summer night
13 March 2020
I dreamt upon a summer night
The soft winds talked to me
Of your white wings they bore in light
Over the deep blue sea
I leaned upon the garden’s door
Its frame a gage of you
As your gait then appeared ashore
Our love renewed so true
You carried me within the flowers
You were knight, I queen Bee
They wilted as we counted hours
That you and I could see
Reading of the poem:
☼ Sun in my eyes ☼ music by Saint of sin ( feat. Jasmin Faridi )
The Malachite Curse 4 : Chow’s fury and Cuifen’s burial
12 March 2020
With a speed unexpected given her stocky build, Chow leapt onto Ming-Hoa who had just been released by the men holding him as they had to tend to the platform, rolling it to the cemetery where they would bury Cuifen. Chow held Ming-Hoa’s ridiculously thin throat in a deadlock and the men who had come back from rolling the platform on its wheels were no match for the strength of her fury as she tightened her fingers around Ming-Hoa’s neck.
Cuifen whom she had carefully clothed and taught all the rudiments of life and who had somehow been able to teach her back more refined ways of doing things. Cuifen whose beautiful hair she had combed and tied back with a sigh wishing she could allow her to have her hair fall around her beautiful face. She had known then that Cuifen’s beauty could be a curse because she could not even let her hair fall alongside her face without that causing a stirring in the hearts of all those who saw her. Cuifen who had come out of her, an infinite gift despite the horrible relationship she was in and which had allowed her to endure more easily the beatings she used to get from her husband. Cuifen whom even her father would never harm so much he was awed by her beauty. Cuifen who had been robbed from her by this contorted old man.
Chow’s hands continued to tighten around the neck of Ming-Hoa and the latter suddenly realized that he wanted to die. He wanted to die in the hope that the crowd would bury him close to Cuifen’s grave rather than have to break the ice-covered earth in a totally different place. It would indeed be easier to overturn the earth nearer to Cuifen’s grave than attempt to break through another new patch of ice further away. He was surprised to find that he did not fear death anymore as long as he could share a proximity with Cuifen in death if not in life. Besides, now that Chow was strangling him, he realized that she was indeed dead and he no longer had any desire to live. He closed his eyes offering his neck to Chow.
The other villagers had already started breaking the ice in the cemetery in anticipation of the arrival of the platform holding Cuifen’s coffin. For some reason, the ice seemed more difficult to break than usual. It was as if the earth itself refused to swallow Cuifen and wanted her to stay forever exposed to the eyes of the villagers. As they continued to dig with their shovels turned sideways each one thought back to their first encounter with her and the latter encounter once she had started growing up into a beautiful young girl. Those who were married had cursed the fate that got them married before she had grown up and those who were unmarried dreamt secretly of how they would woo her after they had earned enough to be able to afford a marriage. They dug with the force of desperation not only to counter the might of the ice but also to counter the flooding of the images of their broken dreams as they now had to literally bury them with her.
Spirit of Free – Saint of Sin
The third part of the series “The Malachite curse” for which I am now writing a sequel. I hope you will like the first three of the series published in 2014 without a common title to the series
Ju-Long’s anger and Eu-Meh’s disarray
31 August 2014
“She was beautiful and good, an authentic generous soul who wanted to help others and did everything to enable her mother and herself to live in dignity after the death of her father. I saw her grow and know .. “said Ming-Hoa when the crash of a chair thrown back stopped him in mid-sentence. Startled out of his dazed state, he was surprised to see Ju-Long standing before him with clenched fists, his face livid, his eyes filled with a palpable hatred.
“Enough,” cried Ju-Long. “You do not know her old fool! You could not know her. To even think such a thing is a sacrilege, a crime against nature”. With every word he inched threateningly towards Ming-Hoa whose eyes, widened in surprise with their pupils dilated with fear, were the only area of faded color like silicon crystals in his pale…
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The second of the series of “The Malachite curse”
Ming Hoa’s oration
29 August 2014
When Ming Hoa had to face the look of Chow, he felt a cold chill run through him and had to look elsewhere. She definitely knew what had happened was trying to drive him crazy. He had tried to make amends for his wrongdoing by providing a funeral in great pomp for Cuifen but to no avail. It seemed to him that Chow was like a demon determined to track down every bit of sanity within him and drive it out of him in a frenzy of vengeance. Not only was she fully aware of what had happened and wanted to make him lose his mind by giving him the place of honor in the seating but she also openly flouted it by forcing him to perform the funeral oration.
Ming Hoa was not particularly superstitious but he could not help thinking of the…
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The passage
29 August 2014
Cuifen hurried on. It was getting dark and her mother, Chow, had so often warned her against the dangers of the streets at night for a girl that now her footsteps were almost desperate. She wondered how she could have lost so much time between the rotten old Ming-Hoa at the post office and her daydreaming in front of Eu-meh’s pastry shop.
Ming-Hoa spoke only a version of ancient Mandarin that no one spoke anymore and you really had to concentrate to understand his sentences so complicated was the Mandarin. Besides the old fool was an absurd megalomaniac who still “lived in his head” as some of the old women said cackling – a not completely normal head if you wanted the opinion of Cuifen – in the time of his youth and expected utmost respect from youngsters due to his past rank of notable…
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The slow mist covered soft
10 March 2020
The chest gathered arrows
A sacrifice thrown at its feet
Of the archer it shows
Upturned splendor of his defeat
Mind to heart made appeal
No prison for want of warden
A kiss of love to seal
A pact made in yonder garden
The slow mist covered soft
Flowers in the garden blooming
The heart yet kept aloft
Silken threads to the mind grooming
Reading of the poem:
B-Tribe – Agua azul
B-Tribe – Spiritual Spiritual
B – TRIBE – Suave Suave
The invisible thread
9 March 2020
She smiled at him. He was getting more interesting by the day. She always knew that her interest in men was more of the sapiosexual kind but had not realized until this day how much this was true. It was not that he was not handsome, far from that. In fact, she would classify him quite high on the handsome scale although his features might not be the classical handsome face. Yet it was not that which attracted her. What appealed to her most was the fact that he knew so much about a variety of matters and spoke like her several languages, some of which she did not speak herself.
He sensed her keener interest and was visibly flattered. He moved closer to her and she nudged towards him, her left flank now touching his right flank. She could feel the heat seep towards her from under his shirt. She felt all warm and cosy and it gave her a fuzzy feeling. He looked intently at her. Her eyes shone with that particular sheen which had captivated him right from the start. Unlike his green and gold speckled eyes, her eyes bore a dark liquid intensity that he had rarely seen in the eyes of the girls he had flirted with before.
This one was going to be trouble for his heart if she did not respond to his wishes in the way he wanted. He knew she wanted and celebrated her freedom. Would they be able to keep this feeling despite the both of them being so fiercely independent, he wondered? Yet he knew that every time he was away from her it was like something within him was missing. He simply had to come back to her or her to him, he was not sure which one of them wandered back to the other. Like drunken sailors they seemed to rift apart and then stumble into each other again.
It was as if an invisible thread with a spring-like quality was holding them and brought them back to each other when they wandered away too far. He had heard a saying once that people who were meant to meet were tied by an invisible thread. If the saying was true, then he and she were apparently glued together with several servings of invisible thread. He smiled to himself. He liked the idea of being strung up as long as it was with her…
Love – B-Tribe
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