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 due
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 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.
This is the end of this collection, “Earth and Heaven”.
Eleventh, farewell verse in English for new friends abroad.
All written in three days as an experiment and a gift to
Western stars. Whose films and music I enjoyed for years
of lonely life in Russia. And also a gift on my birthday,
the 8th of December and the 55th year Jubilee
From the One, Who gives life, inspiration and success.
According to Japanese tradition this the date of Buddha’s
enlightenment. So it’s also a gift for Him from a pupil,
who followed His steps all his life. Fife last Russian verses
were written in two days before that also at one breath.
After several years of silence and much more after fist
experiments. This collection includes old Russian verses
that were saved on paper too. The rest was written in
a computer, sent to some listeners as five albums of songs
and lost. These new verses may be turned to songs too,
if some human or alien adds music and his voice.
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.
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.
Money can’t make you happy if you are its slave,
And you will never get it if you cry and crave.
You can read the riddle of life, if you treat it with delight.
After kung-fu my pace became sliding and gliding,
I flow like water avoiding cool stones of fools.
After space my face became melting and smelting,
I glow like a brave candle in a cold dumpy cave.
Star wars change civilizations by their self-realization.
A samurai should die, when necessary, for his lord,
But he can survive and ford the river to the other shore
If he has no fright and doesn’t count a silly score.
Fear can paralyze reflexes, tranquility – sharpen a sword.
Don’t lie or cry, it’s a waste of time, better strike.
Bamboo bends under the snow and doesn’t break.
You should know the secret and fake a defeat,
Then rising again alive and strong to your feet.
Alien space adventures inspire my poetical ventures,
Maybe my verses will inspire somebody’s films.
And fantastic realms will pop up on the screen,
Powerful, beautiful, enigmatic, shocking and serene.
Mental cinema is a catalyst of creativity and vision,
Psychic research in space is more true than television.
Even more real is inner light and harmony of life,
If you have inside your own personal insight.
8
Health and wealth are two wings of luck.
But where does it fly? If you find a buck,
Are you really happy, snappy? You need a million,
Than a billion etc. Money doesn’t ever slake
Even if you drink a lake. But some sum
As means of survival is just trival.
As a symbol of success you need no more, no less.
Luck is pluck, throw off your shuck and stake
Back what you take. Make a decision on your vision
And go ahead through fright and dread,
Confusion and collision, illusion and derision.
A bluebird is not a duck, you can’t hunt it by a chuck.
Clean your ears and eyes, luck flies to paradise.
Intuition was nutrition for my soul for many years.
Now I’m logical like a computer. Yes, I can’t prove
What skeptics don’t approve and I’m not a good disputer.
I prefer lonely mental flight for new ideas and truths.
As youths continue their fight I go on with my blues.
I like the freedom of improvisation, jazz is soul too.
The melody of visualization in my verses
Is written not for bosses but for all you.
Imagine all, that you can’t manage, as already done
And leap to the fun of inspiration, the easy-going game
Of flame. You will get a rerun of your lucid vision,
A new heavenly space religion will stun your critics
Like a gun. If you understand, you can create your brand.
Send ideas to space without a restricting lace
And will all come back in time without any chase.
Enriched with cosmic views and inspiring news.
Stick to solid stable facts, make far-going conclusions,
Free yourself of all delusions and skip tedious silly tracts.
The green tree of happy life grows for free-minded people
Higher than any steeple, above all earthly roofs,
Falsified scientific proofs. And its fruit is truth.
9
I was not hired or paid for my research and search
But I’m a retired space scout, writing about my secret job
In the universe in the form of a cinema script in verse.
My information is presented as an imagination of a lob,
But I don’t bob the cob. The Chaotic Galaxy, our neighbor,
My main discovery and field of labor, is painted in flames.
For the logical culture of Andromeda Ellipsoid
I’m logical and solid. Andromeda Ball loves games,
Milky Way’s Center – illumination, Super-Cluster claims
Serious aims. The Knot is a clot of problems and a dot.
Here I stop and jot my plot at a trot. If you want to hop
Higher and farther like a cop to pursue alien criminal habits
Like rabbits to the Edge, where they hide, put aside pride
And be ready for a deathly ride on a Satan’s astral tide.
Drop a bomb to crack the nut and glide back to your side.
Snide worlds at the Edge were destroyed, it’s a good news.
But maybe their remnants can revive. Or arise anew.
Satan after his revolt was changed by a new archangel,
The seventh by his role too. But evil went on and spread.
Freedom of will leaves chances for the return of the red.
In some distant future, when all forget the dread.
To avert this threat we must fix our experience for ages.
And let it go to the vast space, which should know
The other side of the pride. Earth was the first to throw
A stone to Satan and we have the right to write
The chronicles of Armageddon and of the new down.
In chaotic galaxies coexist all ideologies and regimes.
Occultism as a version too. As well as communism.
Dispersion beams these gleams in streams,
To let out steams chaotic teams spread anarchism,
Commies as mommies promise, what fools miss,
Religions preach only after-death eternal bliss
At a license, dismissing memory and common sense.
So to avert some red revenge we must stay ever on alert.
10
Ellipsoid galaxies have inside two focuses or poles.
Their roles - spiritual and material – never coincide.
Like Sun and Saturn they are opposites, all have to decide,
Which one to choose and which to loose.
In ball galaxies focuses are one, life there is a fun.
Andromeda Ball loves all, plays games and emits rays.
It resonates with the Center of Universe and transmits
Its force to the whole galaxies cluster as a Zen master.
Milky Way’s Center is a fire ball like Sun and is also a fun.
To understand extraterrestrial cultures you must first
Understand your own. They resonate with space too.
And affect it back like the burst of a superstar, seen by all.
Few feel art to the full, but we can add ours to the pool.
Real contact of civilizations goes on in inspirations,
My poetry is a strange exchange with starry sky
And I revenge by my fire for distant friends and allies.
I sigh at the sight of unseen to them snowdrops,
And burn all lies about green ugly alien dwarfs.
I had a girl-friend from Vega, a fair fairy of light,
Called Congui-Tan. We viewed our common war as a fun
And parted after the victory and the end of fight.
I send all my verses to her lonely heart to warm it up
And remind of our happy start. She was the first
Successful sky-spy on Earth, we drank our cup of wine
And she left. Now her life is far from mine,
But why not drop her a thousand of lines?
Alien researchers know English and Russian well,
And muse at my poetry as at an evasive smell.
I don’t cast any magic spell. It’s just a tinkling silver bell.
I send my hello to all familiar worlds, where I spent years
Of adventures and lucky flights to God.
I got there all I needed for my quiet life on Earth
And now have at my warm home a burning hearth.
So I feel here save and well and say to aliens: “Farewell!”
11
I’ve changed space and theology to astrology.
Now I help people to find their love or true way.
It’s pleasant to be useful and serve others with good advice.
I teach how to solve their problems, meditate and pray.
How to see with their own eyes, what I say.
I have a young beautiful loving wife, a daughter and a son.
And interpret horoscopes positively without a dun
God can improve your fate, if you not skeptical or late.
Because any natal chart has variants from the start.
I also choose better days for myself and amuse my muse.
Before I though of a fantasy film about my realm,
But now I fuse these images with words into verse.
No inspiration was in vain and I’m on the wave again.
What’s the use of my poetry to readers? What is its idea?
Aliens are far, though they really exist and can interfere.
But their equivalents in life are so near and strong…
If you are wrong, the throng will trample you to a nil.
But if you are right and your mind is bright, you will resist
And win. Big bosses are alien like ghosts to the rest,
But you shouldn’t fear and if you do your best
Everything will be safe, serene and clear.
Aum Yeum Om is a mantra for survival and success.
It’s a key to the door from Earth to Heaven and to space.
To overcome stress, restore your balance and normal pace
You need to meditate. No trance, just repeat the sounds.
It will change the interpretation of your horoscope and fate.
In extreme situations pray: “Lord, You are my life!”
And you will surely survive. I tried all other known
practices and was not satisfied so asked from God my own.
I received this formula in 1983, when the parade of planets
Tuned Earth to the Center of Milky Way. By a divine plan
I prayed after that only with these words and discovered
more new ideas and new worlds that I could guess at first.
Lord. You are my protection! Lord, you are my success!
16:18, 10.12.2010
Life is fading in the land of dream,
I slowly flow down the singing silver stream.
Birds singing follow me along my easy way,
The blue sea is approaching me without delay.
Trees wave their yellow branches in a farewell,
Weeds send along with me their delicious smell.
Sun warms me up in a cold wind,
The blue sky covers me with its wings.
I look quietly forward to the tender kiss,
I so long time wait alone and miss.
After I left the lake of my birth,
I never really had a senseless fussy mirth.
Did I ever have a chance to stop?
Did I ever catch a silver falling drop?
Yes, dark clouds often sent me cold rains,
But laws of nature in my soul rein.
I know the way of plants and birds,
And wait for the end from my birth.
Life is teasing me with some good luck,
But as whole it’s just a silly buck.
It passes in a wink of an eye,
You are born and in a second die.
And in the meantime it is senseless pain,
Eternity is the only and real final gain.
Ages pass too like shadows or morning dew,
Art starts every age and generation also anew.
Humanity forgets almost all its heroes and saints,
They live only in darkening symbolic icon paints.
The rare exclusion that in human memory survives,
Is richly colored with illusions and conscious lies.
Millenniums burry practically all but divine light,
Which fills our souls and stays always bright.
Religions die and resurrect in new heavenly quests,
Who meet our needs and vital, crucial requests.
Only Sun and Moon remain ever the same,
Life is an instant of music and game.
