SERGE NAZAR

                                   VERSES

                              Stavropol, 2010

     Without Alan Watts’ book “Way of Zen” and 

D.T.Suzuki’s works     my understanding of my inner

nature would be impossible or incomplete and  this poetry

would never appear. Concrete sources of my inspiration

and artistic vision are Chinese and Japanese poets and

painters.  

    So I thank them all and wish them happy life in heaven.

©Sergey Pakhomov. “Earth and Heaven”. Verses, 2010

      What’s it all about? Flowers and butterflies? Yes, I like

 everything beautiful, but the main content of this book is

not so simple. Beauty and harmony is wider. When God

created the world He saw that it was good. That’s it. What

I want to say as a poet is expressed in religion. Both

Eastern and Western.  World is harmonic by its origin and

we can in our vision return to this source and state of mind.

If we get rid of illusions and egoism. God is omnipresent.

His Spirit fill everything and makes it alive and existent.

We can feel Absolute in transient everyday phenomena,

hear divine music of life in ordinary everyday experience

and become happy such as we are  and where we live. I

personally learned  this truth from my own experience

before I read any books about Zen and mysticism. It was

an instant revelation from nobody and nowhere from the

source of life itself as an answer to my question about the

its meaning. Later I realized that it was a gift of God. So

that I could believe in His reality and start my spiritual

search.

     I found exact explanation of my state in Zen. It was

called Satori. An instant and unexpected illumination,

insight into the nature of things and one’s own personality.

Explosion of inner light. Hiding in everyone and revealing

itself like sun when clouds disappear nothing obscures the

view. Sun was always there from the start but for us

appeared as born. So is the spiritual birth in Zen. You get

what you had.

    After Buddhism I studied yoga. And practiced mantras.

Agni-yoga opened for me space. Then through Bhakti-yoga

understood Bible and began to believe in God as person

and creator. Finally I came to the conviction that all

religions describe different aspects of One and the same

God. And that they are designed different for different

times and peoples. So it’s silly to argue which is the best.

   In the end of my spiritual journey I made a circle around

the Earth and returned to the initial state of mind, better

described in Zen. As it was very close to esthetical vision

that best form to express it was poetry. I wrote some short

verses in Russian long ago. From the time of Zen studies.

And I decided to continue. It turned out to be very easy and

productive. In just three weeks I wrote as much as in years.

I tried even English for a change. And with  the same

result.

     All this collection was written in one breath and

unexpectedly I found myself to be an American poet. I like

 America and do not object to such classification. And I’m

glad that Russia and America are now partners and friends.

Otherwise this collection would impossible. For I’d have

no chance to publish it. And no sense in writing. Now I

offer it to friendly American readers and hope they will

enjoy it as I enjoy my life. As that’s what it’s all about.

     The book was written as three independent and

subsequent collections – 11+7+11. The title of the fist was

used for it as a  whole. The second is “Rainbow” and the

third is “Space”. They add to the main theme some ideas

in new spheres of  research – numerology, mantras,  space.

Psychic results can be proved with logics and psychology,

as well as common sense. But in poetry they are used as

material for fantasy. I touch these topics just to awake

interest. Their full description is presented in another book

- “Personal mantra and horoscope”. So if my verses provoke

any such questions, read it too. And now have a good time.

See you in the end. With some further explanation.

                           Earth and Heaven

                                        1

Are you ill? Or is it still

Just your mood? Don’t shoot

At the skies, God is good,

Angels laugh at such guys.

Life is rough for the fools,

Bloody pools aren’t divine.

Grows vine to the sun,

You are Mother Nature’s son.

I’m in vacuum - lonely, lonely like a star

With years for light to reach my neighbors.

I drive my car along a sole road like a scar

Cutting the desert of my soul. And my labor

Is invisible for humans, only cactuses, green aliens,

Laugh at my jokes and appreciate my sense of humor.

My allies forgot me and I start my life and fight anew.

A ray of light in the darkness of the hell. And who are you?

Do you really smell the flavor of the paradise?

Do you see with your own eyes

The divine sunshine of your salvation?

Or just believe like sleeping population

Of these three dimensions in positive intentions?

My sword  is singing in my lightening fight

That I am always fit and right.

My enemies are senseless dolls,

I take them by surprise before they rise

To their feet. Their heads roll off the shoulders

In the heat of my attack. The elders

Of the space show the trace of their fleet

After defeat. Another race knows better

The sacred letters of our past that will last

For millenniums to come. The scum

Of atheism and Satanism will melt

Like darkness in sunrise. Paradise

Can be felt in a single flower or seen in eyes.

                                      2

I remember ancient days

And I follow ancient ways

In my life and in my strife

For divine and happy light.

Heavens also remember

Any slight but honest thought,

Of the happy circle’s member,

Knowing really what is what.

All our deeds and our needs

Are recorded on the list.

Intuition in the mist

Leads us to the morning call

Of the sunny fire-ball.

Stars are fading in the dawn,

Bless the day when you were born.

And the new and happy day

Like an unexpected ray

Will come to your soul to stay.

Due to the morning dew

After the stream of happy dreams

I am ever fresh and new.

My soul flies to the skies

Like a sunny butterfly.

Flowers feed me with nectars,

The day hides wailful stars

With  the brave blue light-delight.

Who is riding cosmic waves

That assault our world of grief?

Aliens quests or angels’ chiefs

To prove men they not slaves?

And that they can be the best

Among new and rising worlds

If they here the whisper words

Of their soul and skip the rest.

                                         3

Music helps me to survive,

To stay fit and still alive

In the abyss of the outer space,

Where human race is cast

As cosmic gas and dust.

From which all galaxies and stars

Appeared in the pre-human past,

When God invented space for us.

A man is a microcosm,

A reflection of the universe.

Because the world is just a verse.

We hope for the better

In spite of all defeats and lies.

Where flies the letter

Of our prayers and appeals?

Who deals with our fate

And why is this force so late?

When we really need

Some help against cruelty and greed …

Retribution only in the hell or paradise?

No, I want to see it now with my own eyes.

Music revives my soul after years of fight

For higher goals far away from sunny light.

Now no one can tell, was it an illusion,

A daydream, or a real threat of alien intrusion.

I’ve done my best and now can rest

At home for away from the outer dark.

But I’m not so tired to retire

So as a spark I want to start here a fire.

God  used esthetic forms and measures

In creation for His own pleasure.

Now we at leisure study  the golden proportion

In art and nature to overcome distortion.

Music is the salvation of the civilization.

                                                 4

Music of life plays in my soul the role

Of  the guide in the unknown zone.

No pride and no regret for the past,

At last I live as I like because I am left alone,

Forgotten both by aliens and allies.

Who switches off the day light

And turns it on at dawn?

Laws of nature or Supreme Reason?

In summer I wonder, why is sun so bright,

In winter – why snow is so white.

Why is every season divided into months, zodiac signs?

Why plane is determined by two lines?

Who signs the order for Moon to grow?

If you know all secrets, tell me. Don’t be slow.

Why is number  π close to eleven,

Multiplied by two, divided by seven?

The holy number of archangels, planets, days of week…

If your mind is weak, leave mysteries to sages

Who told us at distant ages that the world

Is ruled by numbers. And sleep in slumbers in the whirl 

Of galaxies and fields, where proud reason yields.

My imagination like cinema shows me future generations

On other stars and planets as new civilizations,

Spreading from Earth, the place of their birth,

To the multi-dimensional sphere of the universe

Like running away galaxies after the initial burst.

My soul is a flower,

Growing to the light and warmth of sun.

My spirit is the power of  God inside.

My body serves me till the edge of abyss,

Where I’ll fly to the sky. We live on Earth only once

And than reincarnate in seven heavens,

Where stars dance after the earthly trance.

And God give us a new chance.

                                     5        

If you are strong, you may be wrong.

I am a ninja shade with a lightening blade,

Weak like a water leak from a jug breach,

I can reach death itself with a hug

As equal. My kiss will never miss,

My strike will drive your soul

To the underworld. My goal is strife.

Mortal strife with the strong but silly.

Willy-nilly you’ll except  my rules or die.

I’m a poison on the end of the needle.

If you try to resist you’d better not exist.

I am an eternal Eastern riddle.

And in the West I’m also the best.

I hide like a mouse in the house.

But my unlucky fate is just a fake.

In reality I’m a cat, chasing mice.

Don’t think twice, my advice –

Surrender for your own sake.

I return to life after years of meditation

In a lonely world, called planet X.

I can fix my situation in one word – remix.

I shall live my life anew from the start

With a new rhythm and old rimes. 

The times have changed, but I’m a part

Of the universe and my force

Is flowing from above like love.

A space ranger can arrange a meeting

With an alien friend, who in the end

After greeting will turn out to be no stranger.

But a phantom of earthly origin

From the region of the ranger’s motherland.

Or a projection through the fifth dimension,

Astral plane, of his astral body and intention

To be a shade of his own mortal trade.

                                       6

Who will be my readers? I don’t know.

Where do I send my verses? Just to space.

Each is a blow at some unknown target in the haze.

I’m a lonely fisher in the ocean of fantasy.

My source of inspiration is ecstasy

Of love to life in youth thirty four years ago.

Time is slow but now I’m fifty five

And that is practically all my life,

Spent in the exploration of the initial insight

To the divine delight inside my everyday mind.

We all have Buddha-nature and inner light.

Zen taught me the simple truth I knew without it.

And now books lie on the shelf and I’m back myself.

The flow of life is music, harmony hides in all I see.

Nirvana is a sea of bliss but it is not outside the world.

It’s here and now if you feel it. Like wind that blows

Everywhere or rain that falls on your cheeks.

Or Moon, or flowers and butterflies. Without tricks.

Enlightenment is a gulp of water in the heat of desert.

You can’t deserve it or achieve it by artificial means.

It comes when you understand what life really means.

Mantra Om is the sound of harmony in your heart

And tranquility in your mind. It may be a start

Of the way to light. And it means eternal love to life.

Om Maitreya, Om Maitreya,

Aum Yeum Om Maitreya

The East is not for a beast. Martial arts are only parts

Of the ancient knowledge. The essence of all things

Is opened for millenniums by each Buddha

and ages by sages. Its vision brings peace and power.

Our life seen from this angle is not a tangle. 

Every moment turns out to be a revelation of creation.

Unique and divine, self-sufficient and full of meaning.

Life is streaming. And I drift in my belief like a red leaf.   

                                      7

My poetry is a trace of light in my soul.

I looked into the face of space

And smiled at my earthly dole.

I’m a phoenix, rising from the ashes after crashes. 

I ride the wave of luck in the chaos of the unexpected,

God elected us for a lesson for the old and wise

Who close eyes and collapse like a black hole

After the brilliant role and achieving their goal.

A superstar can be persuasive and attractive,

But time wipes it away. I’m a small ray

For distant future, my impulse will be active

In limitless vast space as long as human race

Searches for harmony inside and outside.

I ride the wave of power with a fire sword in my hand

In the wonderland of five dimensions and abroad.

I visit invisibly other counties to inquire why

They are sleeping like my proud motherland.

Earth is a particle of dust in the vast emptiness of light.

Men forget about eternity and loose themselves in time.

I might fly away for ever to a lonely paradise,

But my rime calls me back to my disguise.

A candle at the wind dies and a big fire grows.

Who knows his potential before he tries?

A looser chooses the quietude of a bog,

A fool drifts along the river like a log.

My choice is the risk of heavenly adventures

And earthly ventures with the dice of art.

I must be smart to conquer some attention or success,

But I saw only mice and played with Satan  tricky chess.

My window opens to heaven, my door – to earth.

When I look at planets and Moon or Sun,

Determining my horoscope of birth,

I learn the future and get some intellectual fun.

But outdoors I still prefer flowers and birds.

                                 8

Do you believe in life after death?

Or prefer sensations, feelings, breath?

Earth and heaven wait for your choice,

What prompts you your inner voice?

If you choose earth, heaven is lost,

If you choose heaven, earth becomes a ghost.

Science and religion offer different news,

But art can unite even such fighting views.

Beauty and harmony belong to both worlds,

My contemplation near the moony pond

Creates a hidden inner timeless bond

With the eternal space of love above.

A fading star sings its farewell song

And dies in sorrow before dawn.

I walk along the stream, following a beam.

A bluebird flies ahead, melting in the sky.

Sun turns from yellow and white

And then from white  to red

But luck is far away, although hard I try. 

Is it a religious myth or just a fairy-tale?

Can I catch its mocking  tail? Or I shall always fail?

The water sings a silver song,

The sun beams like a copper gong.

Where do I really go? I don’t know.

Two mirrors make an endless row

Of reflections, which grow to eternity

And  give a glimpse of an alternative

Dimension of cold mental recollections.

The new age of Aquarius is a labyrinth of versions.

Harmonic proportions grow from  irrationality

Like a lotus bud from the mud. True reality

Is hidden in the chaos of potentialities

Like honey in the hive. If you are afraid of bees

Don’t try. But then all the honey will be my.

                                       9

Why do I write at all? Poets are numerous as stars,

My flower of inspiration is so small

And I’m the last pupil in their class.

I’ve spent my life in meditation and spiritual research

I don’t know poetry and art. No matter how hard I search

For better rimes I’m not so smart in English verse

As natives speakers and professionals by birth.

I’m a Russian but I write for the New World.  

To share the light I found in youth

In simple words with other seekers of eternal truths.

America, Australia, hello!

My self-esteem is so low

Because I’m nobody in my land.

And a suspicious alien to your own jazz-band. 

I don’t wait much and don’t hope for success.

I tootle for some lonely souls, kin to mine.

The less I have the less I fear to loose

My eternal flute is brave and I don’t mind,

If you don’t like me and consider an abuse

Of your time. I listen only to silence and my rime.

Imagination, dream and vision –

Three steps to reality from the collision

Of Earth and Heaven  in our fate.

Mere illusion is an demon’s bait

For the week, who never seek.

Truth approaches your soul in symbolic masks,

Explaining your opportunities and tasks

By some subtle hint and unobtrusive mint.

God is above men’s heads and below their feet.

He’s our roof and  foundation, we can’t beat

Dogmatists in argument but we can stand and walk.

The truth for them would be a shock, or a circus,

For us - like a chock, with which a teacher draws a circle.

If you see Him in its center and periphery, you are free.

                                 10

The hell is inside you and around, if you are proud.

No matter what you take a pride in, if you are not humble

You can stumble and fall into pieces like a brick.

If your mind is quick, you’d better stick to a simple

Principle of kung-fu – be round like a rolling ball  

In all your moves and the enemy will slip with his kick.

Be like  water and you will ignore all nocks and locks.

But if you become a mount, high to reach the sky,

You’ll never make a step towards real results in any field.

Even if you build yourself a pedestal of the praise of fools,

Your burning pride is like riding a demon to the abyss,

That cools all ambitions and kaif  of self-love and self-respect.

If all meet you with applause, suspect a cheat and a deceit.  

Because only God knows what is a true work of light,

Staying for centuries with heavenly copyrights and might.

Galaxy is a family of kin civilizations.

Laws of nature or of God are similar all over the space.

Human nations and alien races grow in the same garden

As flowers of the same origin and  fate. Eden and Adam

Is our common source, because human seeds like weeds

Spread with the cosmic hurricanes through astral planes.

The 34 lines in my verses are my years of contemplation

And the ninth Fibonacci number, Neptune, meditation.

The twenty fist year of my life was a burst of inner light.

Now I am fifty five, the sum of the previous two. And

A Fibonacci number too. This ratio is golden proportion.

I’ve passed the Path and now describe it in the Internet.

For any one who finds my verses by keywords – nirvana,

Zen ...Otherwise any words are just a net. Enlightenment

Is very simple, if you get the point, then come ethical

And other problems you have to solve for the lucky end.

Satori, illumination doesn’t mean neglect of karma. Good

And evil are quite real, even if two inches off the ground.

I’ve found all to be one and now send you to dharma.

                                             11

Wisdom is a window to eternity,

Vision of life such as it is opens space too.

Cosmic fraternity  excepts reality in any spirituality -

Foreign Languages Institute opened me a way to the West,

Zen and Agni-yoga – to extraterrestrial friends and allies.

To the center of the universe where lies the end of all lies.

Our quest is best when we feel the truth from the start

As in art. Blind belief kills, music of spheres reveals.

Aliens at UFOs watch TV movies and listen to music,

That’s why they fly here without contact. What is fact.

They are musing when will we get tired of violence

And turn to wisdom and love. Their language is a violin,

Their faith is not a cruel eagle but a peaceful dove.

Otherwise they would conquer us at the times of caves.

And force to work for them as servants and slaves.

Space waits for our awakening from egotistic illusions

And plans no undeserved help or oppressive intrusion.

So my verses are sent also to extraterrestrials guests

At their silent requests as a letter of friend.

I am an Unidentified Flying Object too.

I also smile at  human radars, missiles and tattoos.

I know that I’m a queer fish,

My space dimension in poetry sounds very strange.

But if you wish to arrange a meeting with an alien

You can’t be ordinary minded and, excuse me, dull.

My rebellion against safe themes reminds you of a null,

From which burst out the world and where disappears all

After the end of time, given by God as a silly dime.

Eternity and infinity can be touched by hands,

Compressed into a box and put into a safe in a bank.

Transcendental Buddha-lands are closed for a fox,

Trying to catch the truth by teeth.

Earth lies beneath Heaven, but  is its match.

Two in reality are one, their separation is only a fun.

                                     Rainbow       

                                           1

I experiment with versions of my future and my luck,             

I try fiery ideas and look at the shining diamonds and ashes.

Blue logic smashes fools like a heavily-loaded truck,

A yellow explosion of energy, compressed in a small book,

Can remove brown mountains from the way of silver water,

Bringing green life to sleeping forests, fields and lawns.

And yellow Moon, the Mother Nature’s naughty daughter,

Dances all silver starry nights through till pink dawns,     

Casting blue spells and yawns after the black slaughter.

I send a red fiery arrow to the violet night space

With silver mirth to efface any extraterrestrial disgrace,

To erase even the trace of evil all around our blue Galaxy

And blue Earth for the green rebirth after bankruptcy

Of  the white religious mind, embracing, soft and kind.

Yellow-green lemon of Moon is sour by taste.

Like a pale shy virgin’s chaste and evasive waist.

You can’t reach and catch it for your silver fun

Though it she is not a black dumpy nun.

So is the bluebird of luck, flying above an air gun.

You never know for sure beforehand in this land,

Who is your black enemy and who’s your white friend.

In a labyrinth feel your glimmering way by the third eye,

The blue sixth sense, finding the quintessence of the light.

In art search for the colorful flight and might,

In life – for sages, who are sometimes right.

You think they don’t exist? I don’t insist,

But remember that every one attracts his like.

Sun is burning in the blue sky like a yellow fire eye.

White clouds fly with the invisible wind, where they will.

Lucid rains fall down to the green grass as bright days pass.

Lemony moon in autumn drops to the pond’s bottom.

Brown bears fall asleep for a white winter trance.

Trees wave their multi-color hands in a farewell dance.

Stones, eternal thrones stay immovable in their stance

                                           2

A rainbow reminds the world of joy

And happiness, lost by humanity long ago,

Caught by a shroud Devil’s ploy and decoy.

Sun’s glow is transformed into a colorful overflow,

Showing  boys below the heavenly choice,

That they can make near the mountain lake.

Full of silent peace among flowers and bees

I walk through the field with brilliant shield

And a laser sword like an alien lord,

Invited for a char from a distant star.

My world is different from yours

Because  I lived for years in cosmic space

As a scout at an alien military base.

Invisible to cautious hosts as a ghost

I passed by their guards and posts

To study their interstellar ships and tips

For access to inter-galaxy  trips

And success in the astral haze.

Aliens may be good and evil too, but they are not fools.

To exceed the speed of light in astral flights

They must surpass themselves and our impass.

Big Bang is the start of space and time

Like illumination is the source of any mystic rhyme.

Origin of life is a riddle, reminding of a lonely fiddle

In the moony night. The sight of a spring flower

Gives power to verse and explains the birth of universe.

Tao is the way of nature, leading a wise man

To harmony with Earth and Heaven,

Which he can scan at any span.

Seven colors of the rainbow, seven notes

Are a ladder to the internal and eternal haven,

Where he floats with clouds-boats.

If you understand, what is Zen,

You come back is to Eden.

                                        3

Life is a strife for happiness, a fight for self-realization.

Cinema and music stars like extraterrestrial civilizations 

Shine from their strange inner worlds with views and news

About our own future, because they are ahead of time

And can sublime the instincts and desires of a nation.

Prime principles of nature hide inside the true fruit of art.

I throw a dart to a cynical critic and hit him in the eye.

I don’t need any sanctions from an authoritative guy

On the throne of a drone. I don’t lie prone to a gnome.

Under the official dome of some New Rome inquisition

I choose an erect position and constructive propositions.

I’m a new anomalous zone. I suggest to postpone all bans

For my galaxy romance. And just have a dance.

Fairy-tales reflect distant past and distant worlds,

Where wizards are quite true, though we are through

With their rein. Fantasy may be realistic too. Magic whirls

Cause astral interstellar storms, which stop astral ships

At havens from their trips. And heavens form a tunnel

To transport back to the port others who can’t funnel

Home with gold, pearl and diamond drips.

Space is rich but to reach it you must find a breach.

Chamomiles smile at the wind and send

Their fragrance to the field’s end,

Where I stand reflecting on the sight of white.

My cat stretches its paws like a ninja scout,

Before he catches in his trap a witty chap

Without any doubt about his reflexes, incomes, taxes.

Ninja never laughs aloud and is never proud

Of his skills, although he really kills.

My knife is sparkling in the night like my life.

I have a real drive for adventures and revenge.

Nothing can change my mind, because I’m not blind.

If you are not my friend and still pretend, that is your end.

I’ll send you to the hell with a ringing silver bell.

                                                  4

Life goes on in spite of fright and mars.

Instincts and positive reflexes help to overcome all bars.

I’m an optimist by nature as Sagittarius, the archer-warrior

Against the black magic of depression with the gloria

Of persistent  luck. I struck in the darkness of a cave

The evil shadow of fear. When you are bright and brave

Ghosts disappear. Faith is the real power of success,

The less you hesitate the more treasures you access.

I’d like to live somewhere around the Pacific ocean,

In the kingdom of Sun, where rein lucid emotions

Far from the Atlantic brain and intellectual fun.

I’d prefer poetry to the science of stars, Venus to Mars,

Love to war as I did, before came the time of the game.

I’ve made my stakes and all possible mistakes,

Now I’ve won and my enemy is gone. So why not relax

Like wax and transform into the norm?

Snowdrops remind me of shy and pale virgins,

Waiting for a real love after fairy-tales dreams.

Sun urges their teams to rise and blossom,

To breathe with the free and full bosom the smell of spring.

The spell of the wizard’s ring, the vibration of the string.

The ratio of a circle to its radius is forty four to seven,

Four multiplied by eleven. Phases of any cycle of life.

Its center radiates with the holy light of Heaven

And the circle itself means Earth, the created universe.

Radius starts as a ray of light from zero, emptiness, null,

Seven holy visible planets correspond to its seven parts.

Maths aren’t dull like a scull if you yourself alive.

Do you know why the snow is white? It reflects all light.

Eleven years of sun’s activity is a key too, four is a cross.

Like four weeks in a month. The meaning of numbers

Can be seen not in slumbers but in real space and time.

Where they rein and restrain chaos, slime and crime

From human fate and inner state. Or from my rhymes .

                                                  5

I am a diamond, produced by the high pressure

Of enemies in the hard circumstances of my life.

I am the treasure of the future, for so far I’m not found

And I’m bound to solitude and streaming light.

Adamant logic saves my time and forces from waste

And my intuition leads me from some losses to clear taste.

Both hemispheres of the brain are true, I’m through

With rationalism and big bosses. From  politics I withdrew.

Blue mountains hide me from the noisy fools in a hut,

Where I am shut. The wind cools my stream of thoughts.

White eagles guard my dream under the pine.

All is really fine and I cut myself all ties with the past.

No matter how fast would be my success I guess

I’d better leave the best of it to the rest and be the last.

Luck must be deserved. Either by yourself

Or by your ancestors. All deeds are fixed in the book

On the shelf of heaven. God doesn’t look at your face,

He looks into your heart and His grace flows to those,

Who already have a lot in spirit and soul. Turn your nose

To the rose, it’s natural and easy. God is busy,

But He likes what smells right and finds time for the goal

Of  delight. Play your role to the end and He will send

An angel as your friend. Love meets love, hate meets hate.

Undeserved luck is just a bait. If you are true and versatile,

God will smile and find jobs for all your ten hands.

In distant lands people wait for His word in the dirt.

And a lotus of faith grows up from it to space.

A diamond and a lotus match like a man and woman.

It is only human to unite the opposites in one.

Logic and imagination are two sides of the brain,

If you train both, you are close to the state of mind,

Required for a breakthrough to Sun. Be kind to your kind,

And aliens will trust you too. When you’ll moan alone,

in an anomal zone, stars will tinkle you by phone.

                                        6

Where do I live and where do I go?

I really don’t know. I just follow the flow

And drift to the sea to see what’s it all about.

I’m not proud of my gifts and don’t laugh aloud

At the misfortunes of unlucky fellows

On the dry mellows. What lifts me up?

A cup of tea or coffee. That’s a joke.

I lift myself  with the wind of luck. I provoke

Doubt in my saneness by my space visions,

But all religions declare some truths, they can not prove.

Is poetry different?  No, a poet is a prophet of some times.

Though you may not approve of such beliefs and rimes.

He is not a stiff chief, responsible and heavy like a stone.

He is alone and has nothing to loose. So he is free

In his imagination and can fleet from rigid facts to versions,

Discovering real, but hidden distortions and proportion

Of truth and beauty. He acts like a scout in an enemy zone.

And he can phone future generations of all nations.

I write both in English and in Russian for the discussion

And promotion of Chan Buddhism of ancient China,

So I’m universal and versatile as an angel’s smile.

When you are sad or mad, things are not really so bad

As you think. Just wink to the mirror and cheer up.

Drink a cup of light from Sun, link to friends in heaven.

Seven archangels and  four apocalypse zodiac signs –

Lion, Taurus, Eagle (Scorpio), and Angel (Aquarius) –

Make eleven holy creatures, glorifying God and life as fine.

The cross of Apocalypses, or a square, is Earth, the fourth

From Sun. Or four elements of nature, fire, air, water, earth.

The structure of the universe is formed by numbers -

One plus three makes four, three plus four – seven,

The sum of each two numbers is the next. These texts

Follow this simple school rule for the teens to the full –

Seven and eleven are eighteen, eleven and eighteen – 29 …

                                           7

Twenty nine is the number of days in a month.

Arts must be fine not only in content but also in form.

This is my norm. A storm of emotions in the oceans

Can drown you down to the deep to eternal sleep.

A furious wind can sweep you away as dust in the steep.

That is not my way. I contemplate and I’m never late.

You can find the proper state of mind in a lake or a pond,

If you move slowly as a snake and don’t respond

To fools. Heaven cools a soul with blue. Find a clue inside.

The glue of illusions sticks to red bricks. To decide

What’s right your mind must be bright and light.

You must be slow in preparations and quick in reactions.

You can ride the wave and enjoy its might.

My farewell song is not so strong, I look into your eyes

And see myself. A reflection or a recollection of the past.

Love has passed and at last I don’t fear to be near.

Your hair is in despair like clouds in the windy sky.

Moon in the window is sad and I’m glad you passed me by.

When you’ll finally disappear fading from my view,

I’ll become new as a phoenix, rising from the ashes.

Your lashes tremble and you resemble a terrible ghost,

You died before me, when you decided to leave.

But will you resurrect? If I post a hello, will you retrieve

Your mood? And should I believe in your halo?

But it is time to part for ever and to start lonely life of stars.

Now your planet is Venus, my planet and fate is Mars.

Wisdom, power and  love are three steps to eternity.

Thesis, antithesis and synthesis of salvation or liberation

Of your soul as the goal of your life. Angelic fraternity

Will accept you to the tetrahedron of four dimensions

By your deeds and your intensions that came true.

I’m through and I’m blue. But I’ll return and  burn you

With my love to ashes. Beauty is a threat and challenge.

It smashes and changes men. The same is Zen.

                                        Space

                                            1

In the sky I don’t die but fly. My mind melts

And my body becomes weightless as light.

I might throw off the belts of gravitation

And leave solar system as a ray of Sun,

Sent to cosmic nations for their fun.

My visions and my dreams are transmitted

To aliens as fantasy films. I’m even submitted

In their Internet as a cinema star for some rewards.

They think my actions and my words

Are just a virtual computer trick. I’m too quick

For a real man with my sword and gun.

I began my space career as an astral warrior,

Fighting demons and their worshippers

And singing Gloria to God. Quite a lot

Of alien warships was lost in the battle

And the rattle of rockets and missiles

Crashed ears and minds. My smiles

And my strikes were invisible to radars

And space raiders, who thought they fought

Only themselves. Invaders were destroyed

And I became unneeded, unemployed.

Back at home on Earth I found only dirt and pride.

The hearth was cold and I was too old to ride the wave.

Slaves praised their lords as gods and I could only slide.

But need is a good teacher, I needed badly to survive

And started my search for tools and means to stay alive.

What I really knew was the science of stars and my planet

Was the god of war, Mars. But in space the war was over

And on Earth it was prevented, I invented some new arms

That I couldn’t use because of possible abuse. Now I muse

At my fate and amuse my readers, but then I was late.

Life went ahead of me and I had not enough resources,

So to restore my forces and to earn my bread

I returned to space with mental cinema and dread.

                                    2

My personal mantra is Eyum Alim Neom,

Sounds like light. Neo- associates with new,

M means fire, spiritual energy, Sun.

It reflects my personal way and point of view,

But anyone can use it as an additional fun

To follow my trace in religion, art and space.

Sometimes I use it as a pseudonym for the role

Of an alien in some games. As a harmonic mask

For films about a ninja, a secret esthetic task.

To promote the cause of  justice in strange worlds

Of chaos and discord. Where aliens thought

That God and retribution for evil and good

Are just words. So my mantra is a creative mood.

Another mantra and my pseudonym is Eyl Noum,

A new name of God too. And a role of an alien actor

And a director of space cinema, the source of materials.

In space it is possible to transmit information

To any computer directly from the brain or reality.

This creates a distant Super-Internet connection

With remote and isolated nations, an effective factor

Of interstellar politics and cultural cooperation.

Common mantra Aum Yeeum Om can be transformed

Into a convenient for repetition rhythmic  formula -

Aum Yeum Aum Yeum Yeum Yeum Aum Yeum

Yeu Om Yeum Om Om Om Yeum Om.

This mantra is also a key to mutual love and real tantra,

Sublimation is transformation of natural instincts, 

Only insects don’t think of their prime origin.

Religion turns an animal into a man and then – to an angel.

And he sees all things and events at a different angle.

Mantra recitation is a safe and effective meditation

For any one, who doesn’t want to be a slave to anger.

A tranquil and serene soul is its eternal goal,

Happiness for men is the only worthy role.

                                  3

Space intelligence is a fantasy now but a reality very soon.

Are we born with a silver spoon in the mouth?

Is an alien doom still possible or it’s just a fantasy or past?

When at last will we be able to protect our earthly house?

Is there any chase for spies or arms race in space?

And can we try with our own arms extraterrestrial arms?

Space can become a political factor for superpowers in case

Of further cultural superstitions and economic competition.

Aliens have their own eyes and views and can choose

The best, skipping the rest. Our nest is not eternal,

Will fraternal civilizations open space to at least some

Earthly nations? Will they ever come to stop a beast,

A Satanist, threatening free cultures with his occult cult?

Are there in galaxies any regions, where religions

Aren’t monotheist or at least pantheist? Is mantra Om

Universal? And where is spread Yeum? Can we zoom

Our vision of space and start with its help a boom?

If we are all sons of Adam and Eve, can we receive

Extraterrestrial gens and gems? And send there our own?

Or  should they leave us alone as an bone without meat?

Shall we ever openly meet for a friendly exchange

Of moods in art as a start and goods, precious and smart?

A silver bell is ringing in our ears, any one who hears

The sound of time, won’t sell for a dime his masterpiece.

But will gladly make a gift to friends. Peace depends

On disgust and trust, we must be the fist to give up lust.

Space is a mirror, it reflects our own dreams and reacts

To our own tracts. Competition of national egoistic teams

Means that nationalists will be mean in space too.

To prevent an egoistic flu they isolate the all fools

In their dirty pools. And plan to contact only those who act

With tact. My verse about space is a lace to pull

You to the school of universal grace. Try to the full,

Chase knowledge and look in to the face of facts.

                                      4

Shambala, an alien base in Himalayas and Tibet,

Existed for contacts with men six thousands years ago.

There was a bet of conflicting civilizations about mankind,

Whether men would grow kind or cruel, high or low.

Atlantis twenty thousands earlier contacted aliens too.

The teacher of Agni-yoga, Moria, their disciple, said a boo

To hostile alien geese and his civilization was destroyed.

Like Troy. It was a war in space against Moria’s friends

And Atlantis also came to the end. Modern West is its heir

And the same threat was in the air. But this time Moria’s

Allies won the game and Agni-yoga turned out to be fair.

Shambala can be restored now, if we ask, for our own sake

In the new cosmic age of Aquarius, when we make a stake.

Large Magellanic Cloud is a Milky Way’s satellite and ally.

Magellanians build inter-galaxy ships and fly to Earth

And to the edge of universe. Where Cain’s heirs hide

In pride and tried to prepare a surprise assault in a trite,

Provoking a preventive Magellanic nuclear strike.

Some Vega’s astro-pilots have common gens with Jews

From Prophet Elijah, who was evacuated in a fire chariot

By their ancestors.  But to recognize Jews they refuse.

As they refused to recognize Elijah. As a refugee

He found there a new home and built a Jehovah’s dome.

Now they protect Earth from uninvited alien ghosts

And here in our periphery of Galaxy they are hosts.

With its Center and the alfa of Scorpio, Antares, anti-Ares.

Where lived Enoch, after escape from Magellanic Cloud.

Antaresians are proud of the fact and act as bosses,

What leads them to religious conflicts and various losses.

Vegains, more tolerant and popular, laugh aloud

At their spiritual ambitions and genetic superstitions. 

Other allies come to us from Andromeda Nebula  satellites,

ball and ellipsoid, stable and solid, and from Super-cluster

For fun and casting in our local space ninja blockbuster.

                                  5

An interstellar ship is based on a nuclear fusion reactor

As the main factor of a multidimensional breakthrough.

The truth is that energy, concentrated over a critical point,

In a small space, opens an astral way to any distant place,

Joint to it by a quark ray. The starship turns into light

For the time of flight and dematerializes, disappears, dies 

With further instant resurrection in any chosen direction.

High speed is an illusion, the secret is in carbon fusion.

Magellanians sell their starships to allies and friends,

Signing charts. If friendship ends take most of them back

For repair parts. Lack of maintenance makes left ships dead

Instead of power traitors get head aches  and debts.

Deceit  and self-conceit never pass the test of the best.

A spiritual civilization, Aldebaran, travels not in space

But in time, the inner dimension of soul. Its goal is grace

And its art is fine and sublime. Philosophy is the base

Of theocracy, ethics and esthetics are common guidelines.

Religion outlines general rules and the rest is insight.

The sight of the rising sun, fills them with peace and love.

Above all in icons they place a dove as the symbol of flight

To inner heaven or a white angel of light.

Sirius is a binary culture, a game and a fight

Of black and white. Shadows and reflections of light

Are mixed and fixed in a labyrinth of echo and fright.

Ancient Egypt worshipped Sirius as a kin civilization

By gens and religions and Egyptian nation died.

Another equivalent in space is Regulus, a communist state,

Like the late Soviet Union. One on the whole planet

And on one continent. Planned economy, astronomy

And photon ships, flying to a Sirius base and close stars. 

Lower than the speed of light but quick enough to reach

Our Mars and make a base there too, if they only knew

About us and our fuss. At Sirius they support reason

And hold back mystic egoism by their ideological altruism.

                                 6

Aliens opened to Earth with persistence their existence

With the approach of the new cosmic age. A new stage

Of humanity, ready to learn how to earn access to space.

As a hint to the earthly lords that they are not gods. 

The extraterrestrial trace shows ways to our own future

Without the misfortune of the world’s end. This trend

In human culture must blend our spirituality with the reality

Of higher, more developed worlds. White heavenly birds.

Moon in the sky is the silver queen of a violet night,

Blue stars sing angelic songs in the silence of beyond.

Their light flies many years just to say us: “Yes.”

Who belongs to their realm? Don’t try to guess.

I cast an unreal film. For unknown sleeping worlds

With angelic afterwords. Who has made this mess?

I mean the chaos galaxy. It bursts out like a flower.

Large Magellanic Cloud, unity of power and beauty,

Delicious, colorful and fruity abstract paints entertain

And tease with ease. All who fly by. I send my art as a dart

To the heart. I kill by will. All ghosts of the past.

Future shines like a rising sun. I believe in better 

And send next generations my enigmatic rhythmic letter.

We are aliens to ourselves in the bing of a fussy busy city,

The rein of lust and dust. Dollar is the merciless king.

And we wait with hope for a contact or a contract

With some one witty, who would help us on our bitty tract.

Strangers to life, we walk along a highway on and on.

And no one stops to take us, where we want to be reborn.

Cosmos is multidimensional and multivariate,

We can loose there ourselves for ever, if we are not clever.

But there is also a chance to overcome the trance

And win the game of fame and violet flame. In the name

Of the law of karma and the wheel dharma.

There are Buddha-lands in galaxies, enlightened worlds,

Which will easily understand my words and my real works.

                                7

After all what do we want from life and God?

Happiness in love and some money. Yes, it’s funny,

But that would be enough even for a million dollar tough.

He can’t eat all his bucks as bread and butter or meat.

Drink like wine. And he will end like everybody in decline.

So what’s the use of such senseless life? Deathly smile?

You are a mile from home but don’t believe it and stop.

Your style may be hot, brilliant but desert dry,

No matter what are your ambitions and how hard you try.

A single drop can’t prime the crop but a rain does the job.

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