Couverture de The Wisdom Verses Podcast

The Wisdom Verses Podcast

The Wisdom Verses Podcast

De : t.k.
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Welcome to The Wisdom Verses Podcast with t.k.!

Who is t.k.? A living myth interrupting ordinariness. Those are perhaps the best words to describe t.k.—the mystic, poet, father, spiritual master, and farmer. Repository of ancient secrets, worker of arcane magics, sage who has gone beyond the touch of birth and death. Those would also be accurate words. In his poems (and in these recordings), t.k. talks to us about the enlightened one’s love affair with appearance. He invites, cajoles, seduces us into a participatory encounter with wisdom bliss.2023
Philosophie Sciences sociales Spiritualité
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    Épisodes
    • 🔴⚪️
      Jan 22 2025
      In this recording, t.k. discusses this poem:

      Vanity is the name for seeing higher and lower.
      There is a name for judgements, it is conceit.
      Vainglory is the synonym of me and mine.

      Thank you for the teachings that burned.
      Thank you for the blessings that stung.
      Thank you for the grace of knowing loss.
      In my heart there is no more room for the
      image of a stranger.

      Love’s meaning is an immanence of adventure.
      HeartBreak is the intimation of closeness.
      Love and HeartBreak, Her gifts to the hallowed.
      In my heart there is no more room for the
      image of a stranger.

      My life is a slow revealing mystery - joy from pain.
      You too long to see as you have been seen.
      Your life, like mine, is made from infinity lost.
      Kiss Her, your Heart will have no more room for the
      image of a stranger.
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      39 min
    • Rasa Lila
      Jan 22 2025
      In this episode, t.k. discusses his poem, "Rasa Lila."

      My hand explores the hemmed edge of your brilliance, true portrait
      of the Holy Face. And light, Oh! the light, pouring out from mystery.

      So we dance flowing, always flowing
      twirling trembling, intimations. Patterns of ice melt light when
      winter’s frost covered grass meets morning’s warming rays. Patterns forming
      dissolving. The profile of a man’s face on the subway becomes tree, graffiti,
      birds, a thousand diamonds of broken glass flying by. And my mind, always
      on the hem of your skirt.

      Once upon a time I held mind at heart in curves and flow of ancient ciphers
      spun out from still point the circle. Secret scripts entangled photic and
      phonic wisdom display.

      (Once upon a time is any? every? time but One Day is always certain.)
      One day mind slipped from still point into the Great Swirling Expanse
      that is the hem of Your garment. Mind, hand, fingers form tumble
      jumbled across in as every thing and everything that is You. And.

      Into that whirlpool bliss bindu palace between your legs where I lay for
      a thousand years lost in delicate sounds like the coo-ing of doves. Well
      you know

      whirlpools draw you in and spin you round. If you resist you die. No
      one can withstand the tug and pull of those currents. But! If you
      surrender, utterly, totally beyond the care of coming and going. Beyond
      the geo fencing of the 8 worldly concerns. Then

      you are pulled down down down and into and of and thrown out on the banks of no more cares.

      This world. That world. Just a bunch of fantasy designed to distract you.eight worldly concerns are

      • hope for happiness and fear of suffering,
      • hope for fame and fear of insignificance,
      • hope for praise and fear of blame,
      • hope for gain and fear of loss;
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      32 min
    • Fragile Joys 13
      Jan 8 2024
      13.

      Beings are born and die. In spring the plum blossoms and
      the seeing of plum blossoms.

      Enfolding unfolding, blossoming and fruiting.
      The dark revealing, the bright concealing in
      each new relation. Each new

      leaf and flower the totality.

      Possibility impossibility flow in and of each other
      and in the secretmost recesses of the Heart
      unpossibility
      non-darkness
      unlearning
      mysterious
      envelope
      of wholeness.


      In the leaves and branches there is a hidden laughter;
      its roots in the formless, its blossoms appear

      within form.


      Oh, disorderly face of appearance! Oh improbable visage
      of sofas, volcano, landscape, wasteland, three-toed sloth
      and roses, so many roses.

      Hey, appearance!
      Do you hold us captive?
      Do you set us free?


      Or, are you simply going about your business of appearing
      disappearing…
      unexpected entanglements,

      quantum tracings of flower and bud’s atemporal
      relationship before during and of all emergence-

      the formless, strange meeting place, ant’s
      foot and peony sexing.


      In spring the plum blossoms and the seeing of plum
      blossoms.

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      29 min
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