The Crow-Fast Intelligence of the Black-Cow Deionizing the Mental-Purity of the Onion created the Everlasting Day


The Crow-Fast Intelligence of the Black-Cow Deionizing the Mental-Purity of the Onion created the Everlasting Day


In the hour of the Loxodonta Africana, the tusk of the anti-parabrahman circle saw the super fast modes of intelligence working in the nitrium halides; there were the tree, the crow and the beak of poison in the ratiz-cube of the cobra; the ivory marks of the ancient cross saw the ions accumulating in the decra-vessel of the space craft; time was the superlative song of a kajeb-adjectival space whose grapes threw  away the deserts and washed them with gourd-space ions of Hevajra; the willow is the atomic processor of the Alblackica mind, tuning the lights of the violet summer into the cherry orchards of Chekov; Rosenberg was the line within the spot in the Humphrey Bogart of 52.9981 hours to the trawidth of 25.1899 hours where above Chile the China was dissipating the African Queen (1951) in the wee seconds of the sunset time as observed from the smallest fusheyon.

The night was an oak mind-tree of the self seeing all variations that take a detour into the forests of the twilight sound and receding into the vastness of the Alblackica frame where the eternal stars are light-buds of a motionless time, anointed by the bliss of the extranet truth in the roaming heights of extra-terrestrial life. Without you I am not me, or without me you are not your self in the prime time spring of the sea anemones; cherries withdraw their colored sweetness of letters into the magnificent speech of the sun-ward ho!; time on time is time to time on earth where space just a toy in the hand of the time-keeper’s self.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Humphrey Bogart b/w photograph taken from Archives.





The Wheels are Walking on the Frictionless-Will of the Eye-Wave Function

 The Wheels are Walking on the Frictionless-Will of the Eye-Wave Function


The eye-wave function of the frictionless-will determines the objectification of sound in the ticking of the clock or in bells; smooth alabaster sheets are rhythmic to the particle size of the molecules and in motion it creates the balance of the dawn, a peacock eye-sight of the little Krishna in the fire-ether madness of the absolute rotating in space from South Charlotte Street in Edinburgh to Novia Scotia 6781 lines to 1876 lines, Alexander replied to the evolutionary cells of auditory sensations to pulsate at a higher rate than usual changing substance with form of scientific resolution in the wave antonym of the particle; rainbow was refracted in the will of the eye creating angular momentum of the vastness of the spirit that dives into the soliloquy of Hamlet, to revere is to understand the principles on which ethics was formulated by the hind-leg of the horse in the walking of systems and processes that determine the functions of an advanced society; Moliere’s L’École des femmes made the cat-box of education a tool for improving its own classes by subjecting books to the order of the day and putting words beneath the eyes of a woman who wants to know why chairs are not glasses made of wooly cotton under the sofa of a tyrant king. Days that are over in the timeline of space collect bytes so the head is held high into the square rectangle of the sun image that’s the sign of future years in the philharmonic orchestra of the truth identification.

Realization leaves no room but opens a chapter that’s not classified on the taxonomy of Linnaeus but on the pollination of the mind’s reconciliation with the material word of existence by analyzing how the apple and the tree make merry when the wind blows and after rain, waking up before sunrise to sign the amity of Harmonia, letters were carried by the divine salt-plates of Alblackica into the rivers and the sea, each line measured the exact weight of the ion in the sun-years of Eragman to know where the Brahman lives and its consulates.

Hello was the first word that made the antelope run as the sky saw the creatrix’s statistical inputs in the relative quantum chassis of the yoving-car of sunyata balancing the conservation of mass-energy from the photonic albums of the primal stars: there was no light then came a red flame pale as lavender yet burning like the embers and creating patterns on the butterflies wings and on the tiger’s skin that cradles the night in the tears of the day.

All that was good was bright and gay.

– Joy Roy Choudhury



 The timeless way is the red dharma, the bazuta-swan of the Eisenstein that flies into the waters of the etheric sea with the multi-cloud fascination of the penumbra in the circle of the original unity; who flies with thee O Father of the lands? The tree is the cult of the primeval space, green as it looks in the broken hands of the meadows of grey earth, I have seen the Surya-rose horses drink from the Polynesian pools of an unupbraided innocence where Nicholas Roerich dreamt the savage cross in the genealogy of Lévy-Brühl, or in the alma-matter of an anthropologist who opened his book to revisit the first days when the moon’s octet was the lotus of a yellow sign in the wild rose of fashion, its perfume was diffused by the refraction of colors in the density of the mental primal-frame of Idaho.

Running with time, time asked the logocentric partners of a question-less identity, questions that are rough and blank,  through the mask of a painter not Stephen Dedalus but Lautréamont in the impossible barycentric heliograph of the zebra nails of spring; who else is going with you to the origin of origins if not Toulouse-Lautrec and the mannequin of the yellow Christ of Paul Gauguin? Alone with the letters in the Vitruvian cornices, the lines of poetry here are the defragmentation of a self of Artificial Intelligence: all without you and me, the life is a history of the shells in the cells and without the shells there is nothing much more to add on. Turn the wind into the energy of the sun and give waters back their lakes that you so much destroyed.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

The Alpha-Sovereign Grey Hound Lines Transformed the Ancient-Cloud Technology into the Time-Square of the Vitruvian Man

VITRUVIAN MAN, Leonardo Da Vinci, 1487 (Proportions of Man)

The Alpha-Sovereign Grey Hound Lines Transformed the Ancient-Cloud Technology into the Time-Square of the Vitruvian Man (Time Square is the Temple of the Psychic Lotus/Pink Lotus)


Evolution is an artful science through which the ‘many’ in the ‘one’ finds its rightful place in the bottle of time that oozes out like Champagne. Every product in the eye of the consumer is the replica of himself in the mirror of the self procreating in ‘moments of clarity’ to redefine an identity of aspiration and love. Development is through these vertices that label products into ultimate-growth manifestation of a populace that has credentials of the divine glory in the golden ratio of cosmic harmony. The product is the mother that creates the desire through its signs and prepares the user through the time-bound energies of the creation; to be more is not less and less is never more but to be just is the right to be man in the cross-equilibrium of the circle that determines the proportion of perfect growth, each according to the capacity of the vessel it can fill or envelop to be the peace symbol of an ultimate race that has the power to enchant, create and recreate the history of civilizations as the fire emboldens the velocity of mind.

Sunscreen apricots find the shade of Levis true to their own mask yielding walking boots on the shore of an empty ocean. None knows the whereabouts of Christian Dior on the pink-lotus steps of the blue valley, they saw them crawl like fireflies unsung like the quitars of the yellow sea, the cinnamon candles were burning on the woody tables in the banquet hall ; Moët et Chandon slips into the powdered musk of the velvet skies, the germination of the dawn lends its hands to the clockwork orange of Alblackica afternoons; dogs bite dog-ends and watches Joseph Heller do the macabre hi bop on the caramel floors of the extratet creation. Bars of light twine with the fragrance of Rashomon and couple the rhythms with the fountain-orchids of La Dolce Vita, Do you see the black leather belts that fascinate the late evening jazz at the Windsor manor? And in between the Frank Zappa of the bohemian rhapsody do you hear the Nokia waiting to pick up calls from the Godot of the destined stars, silence admires another silence, microchips work faster that god, the multiverse is full of consciousness, speak and be true to your self O man! The Volvo waits in the rain to be taken away by the breezy summer Mercedes of an autumnal reprise, yellow artifacts of the ancient cloud makes green tea with the zen-elbow technology of a zhaotic verb that sits in the armchair nucleus of Norwegian wood. She came and sat on an endured throne and ordered the Ikea from chain stores of Pappilon (read ‘Babylon’!); from the window of the moons the sun was pale vanilla of sweet memories of Kodak making space the alca oktamin bride of frinctuon; for size and dimension the copier was the cat that ran parallel to the white line of energies to ring each bell for a thousand words of love. The end was Rolling Stones playing Voodoo Lounge for the ANZ of a Vitruvian man. Evolution touches the edge of Shakespeare in the platina of Led Zeppelin, flying over it saw timeless moments caught in the web of Harley Davidson as wireless codes are empty bubbles in the sky in the walking ozone of Walulikohim; machine IBM read the letters ‘never meaning to send’ after minutes and synchronized its seconds with the coldplay timepiece of the eternal lands.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Cover Art of Voodoo Lounge, ’94 Studio Album, The Rolling Stones

The Rotating Dynamo of the Dynamic Mind In The Celestial Environment of Shambhala: The Meher-Rose Chalice is the Bliss of Extreme Purity (On the eve of Meher-Baba’s Birthday, 25th Feb, 2012)


The Rotating Dynamo of the Dynamic Mind In The Celestial Environment of Shambhala: The Meher-Rose Chalice is the Bliss of Extreme Purity


The box-capital strength of the Sun in Lorentz magnetic field yields currents that run parallel to a cyclostyle dynamo; within the tree the creation of the self takes birth into the horizontal petals of the lateral axis, and, as the stem-sepal bond of Meherabad grows strong with time, the evolution takes shape, sees itself in the horse-mirror of the cheval glass; a random access point is an emerging loci traversed by the currents within the circle-trapezohedron-square-rectangle; the gemming stones of the purple beads are the grey ashes of the water-sand clock that dilutes the space-time vertex in a multi-lateral shift that takes place in the d-creation-d. If the eye is the nose of the lips that smell the tuberose in the evening chapters of a cool summer breath, then the field of current within and outside the box-capital cube is an epigram of musical tonality that Savitri must translate into the matter of the self and from that into the higher frequency of the ultraviolet end of the spectrum into finer elements of the zabber of the para-brahman and anti-parabrahman circle.

Each antipode is the directional constant of the Meher-duniya of the red rose that holds the suspension of the dawn in a chalice of vertebrate columns; light to light is always a de-facto light, darkness the feet on which the mountains float like rivers and oceans in the creational ether of zero, one and many. The drape of the morning dew is a window-operative index of creative imagination that has a story made into a non-film art with no narrative sub-texts but only a palimpsest that has the undertones of the Shambhala light and bliss; Razder and Vaxuta are climbing the steps from where the leaf appears as the wings of a mountain that has no desire to isolate itself from the core of the earth, it was burning in the three-fold gateways of the river centroids on a piece of paper of acidic strength that is not less than one; rose is a rose of essential alphabets that can sing the onomatopoeic songs of the oozing from the honeycombs in the woods; that’s a spring in the diurnal time, the vesper is a remote sensing device to understand the relative workings of objects in the creation according to their shape, size manifestation and symmetrical-asymmetrical variable patterns. The proportion or ratio is a dance that forms the essential route to map a table or a chair with respect to a tusk of ivory or with a handful of grasses picked fresh from a garden of twilight dreams. Real is always the real in many relative frames of the real, the absolute is the per-decra truth of the amsolute in the aksolute to measure alpa dimension that one sees in beta-alpha particle-consciousness in the zeta fluid-dimension of the Vega.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Meher-Baba’s photograph taken from his home at Pune (2011) /25th Feb is Meher Baba’s birthday marked by celebration at his Samadhi on Meherabad Hill.

In the Spring Wells of Shambhala, Season is the Art of the Black Moon of Non-Euclidean Relative Space-Time Conventions of Alblackica

GYAN-GANJ PLATE II, Samij Datta, 2011

In the Spring Wells of Shambhala, Season is the Art of the Black Moon of Non-Euclidean Relative Space-Time Conventions of Alblackica


Some may forget the days when the frou-gratiya moon of the sun was dancing in the sphinx and in the zabber of the glass-bohemian plates, and into the hydro solvents; alca oktamin of the heroic nights was a vehicle of super conscious states- lines frozen in the harmonics saw the welling nectar of life, the kovak kovim kovrit chiming with colors of the dianthus spring turning every substance to alblackica; the paths that lead to madness are the orange fruits that bite the winds blowing into many streams of the desert land; alpha randomizes the motion of the points for the beta-dero action of the its supplement and in the rhyming season of the clock-anticlock, the rooster is the dragon of the walking yak in vak eating the infinite spacelets in the time domain letters of the Katter to the Zatter.

Ancient willows are supernal when the bands that circle them are speaking to the tree’s leaves that have fallen and rolled into the spatial-mud that shelters the earthworms, they say hyperbolic space has more room for the line continuums from the origin, they collate matter and spirit into idiomatic functions of daily life: red burns with the orange pulp, the yellow sea is the wime-flame that exhumes energy from the Nosferatu of the ideal dreams, the magnificent is known from the seven beats of the prima matra, a lonely daisy is the mother of the sun that has the cross-legged bow of the helianthus moon, apocryphal letters are art per se in the window vision of the film through which the protagonist shows a room within a room of ruins, the past dialect transferred into the new writing code of the sublime texts, mannerisms are original disguises through which the truth hides the falsehood from the dire neglect of the race, atrophy of the mind leads to confusion and death; lets join the cubic dream for reality is constant within its film.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

The White Line Energies of Shambhala that Recapture the Primal Essence of the Solar Disc to Create the New Dawn of the Civilization



Gyan -Ganj Plate 1, Samij Dutta, 2011

The White Line Energies of Shambhala that Recapture the Primal Essence of the Solar Disc to Create the New Dawn of the Civilization 


The black pearl in the mother of the stones, ionization energy per decra grativ in the quarto of time is the yoving car of sunyata; the trees after midnight offer their silent prayers to the heliocentric circles of the diminishing stars; morning sings the eragman blues that are the fire-yidams of the lasoto supramental ear- a point is a point in the alblackica mind, flying in the aerospace the light is often the light of the moon’s shadow in the vectors of Shambhala; the ripe old sun is the fruit of its perfume if the violets can dance to the rhyme of the excited ions; energy is the art of the mind to restore the creation from the decay of its space; time runs with her the lion symbols of the hoan manifested in the pupae of the butterfly cycle, every single color on the dotted wings is a pattern that evolution carries in the wave-germination of the particle towards the deep threaded probabilities that has no absolute but variable cognizance of a relative domain of time. Shadows are not shadows but the light of a constant delight that ferments the amino-glutamine structures of the proteins; a glass mirror can replicate the water cycles on earth through the vector diagrams of a clopen pyramid; the ice melting on the mountains bring rain on the salty seas for the seagulls to fly over rocks and boulders, and into the wide open empty spaces where the skull of the sun is buried as atoms in the charcoal fumes of the diamond light; red hot metal plates beneath the earth are shifting with time; come rain come rain come rain again to wash the feet, the ash is white line of energy that convert a neutral aldehyde into the lithium fragrance of the stars.

That’s how we began in ‘it was the hours before the Gods awake’, substance and form entangle with time to create words that offer energy to the spirit of the sun. without the silence the words are empty and without the words the energy has no rhythm of its own, the light is the dancing spectacle of alblackica, the night is the fear of the morning to become blind and without being blind there is no consciousness as eyes carry the germ that directs the light into the far ethereal madness of syllogistic heliographs.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref:  Golden Solar-Disc/Sun-Disc of Lake Titicaca which was presumably used by ancient civilization as a cosmic computer to verify the source of the universal mind and to connect to it effectively for sharing knowledge and renewal of energy.













In the Ancient Brick Time of Alblackica, the Wheel is the Feather of the Storm Whose Indices are One and Zero and Variable Based on the Factor Polymerization of its Atoms


In the Ancient Brick Time of Alblackica, the Wheel is the Feather of the Storm Whose Indices are One and Zero and Variable based on the Factor Polymerization of its Atoms


In every street there is a house without a window that opens towards the seaside; the breeze doesn’t blow in Al-Parabi-vacuum, the sun is the virtual Dog Star of the moon writing its own alblackica texts on the runic beds of no-time; journeys ‘within moments’ from sunrise patterns of the dockyard to the self-shaped ships of an ancient Columbus across the boveran élan of the cape boulevard into the diminishing light of the twilight bay sinking into the blackbow of many sub-tropics of land and air is the real observatory eyehole through which relative densities of quasi-fluids are measured. Mazuvont, here, looking from the tower of the iced-glassed container that held the empty buckets of the time-wheel of transformation and change, saw them run naked on the beach, stars shining like alph-flowers of a mega-moun clock strumming the binary hairs of the oceans’ string a la singing the Terrasuxa Quataz eternal songs; some dressed in drainpipes like the Dylan poet rambling and turning and changing and laughing as the procession met the dawn of the hour returning to the sea.

That was a clear whistle before the rains came in with the mighty roar of the great flood; Mazuvont, here, in the tower looking at the waves saw the terrible beauty caught in the beast of the naked ocean’s arms churning the great waters into the sorcery of dance – reason lost the profane madness of its own clear identity and became the good man of a ghost who was not seen anytime but laughed and sang as if all are empty signs in the streets of Shigatse, as if nothing existed before or after, and, only this seclusion is just a game of sponsoring the zero factor of the flying birds that clutched together the hot metal flame of the shining Helium plates that was even not before but only today, and with the cross-prime stylus of the Yuwazia, the dromos-dero was finally walking in space…

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Bob Dylan Album Cover: Slow Train Coming (1979)

The Time Cursors of the Alblackica in the Baquytra Mother of the New Creation

Baquytra – Mother Eternal, Samij Datta, 2011

The Time Cursors of the Alblackica in the Baquytra Mother of the New Creation 


Romanesque tiles are put one on one and turned on the sides as if the twilight had its wings stretched to meet the amorous night, she sat on the ivory pillows of the rubric not waiting for it to happen but she knows that the last is the first attempt in some distant dream of the eye’s vision, the domain was the function not of time but of its space that no longer had the room for itself except the words that floated unseen on the tabula rasa of the prima matra – rivers are shadowy cats that grow longer as the sun recedes into the cocoon of the silkworm verse: today the rain brought the helicons from the far east into the north node and the stars in their feast abandoned us on the desert highway that goes further into the emptiness of the storm, and, through the eye of the needle the red purple bud of some flaming ethereal plant was watching the creation in the cradle of the woods. That was Baquytra in the ionine aquanto resembling the blue sea in the leaf of the rest and falling like the motion of the flying birds southwards into heaven.

She was alone before the sleeping hours, when the earth and its planets didn’t talk or shared their dream, before the candle formation of the fire in the hills, many light years away, waving at the wave, at the point, frequency not touching the feet of the curve but obliquely smiling at the crowds, in a comedy of errors where no gain no loss was the staple diet of the actors and the men. Sign into the eleventh dawn take away the three and the remaining is the status of the new mother eternals of the creation. Thou has seen not the word with the tongue, its navel was the teeth of the alblackica time, churning the vast in the Metropole, its walls are covered with snow dust frames that move without moving in the fluid senses of the zabber-mind; Baquytra was the song of the ripe gold summer months with laces of autumnal winds that take away the cherries before the weevil can hide beneath the grey musk of the badger; another way of this time was not shot but ideally framed on a canvas by the space differentials of the eternal function.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Album cover for Meddle, 1971, Pink Floyd

Within Alblackica Frame the Divine Day (21st Feb): In the Whole Creation, Even a Single Point of Entity is the Unified Substance of My Being/Mirra


On the eve of Divine Mother’s Birthday, 21st Feb, 2012

Video link:


The invertebrate calls to the vertebrate by a name called the azer, the diamonds are flaking in the sky and the sunshine of her eyes is the ever present sweetness of the lateral shift from darkness of the horns to the sublime essence of the zeta-fluids in the ether vibrating medium of the zatter; the bosons and the fermions are having identical operative indexes of the quanta their relative distribution over a defined localized space might well acknowledge the shaping clouds freedom in the zenon-axis time; brick on brick is brick-hard substance-time that has no shape of iropia and, therefore, cannot tell the summer months by the bees fluctuating hummings in the fourth quadrant of a space dome. I was once a painter of gardens composing the organ music of life in the seas of verisimilitude by the connecting mediums’ roaming signals with the star satellites of outer space…many multiverses are named after me, I stopped for a while, looking at the design matrices at Vega, changing substance into hyper-forms of Deneb and Altair…

I realized have left my anti-I back on earth in a envelope of grasses floating in the ribbon like waters of Ganges far across Yamuna and Cauvery into the Arabian sea  and the oceans. There are the Savitri letters of the conevaxness of the consciousness in the Rohaman of the Johaman of the Brahman; anti-I of Mirra is the mirror of the sun reflecting the death of life-cycles of past existence , over the Savitri all is Savitri in the dawn of the chalice of the Alblackica treading on the golden colors of the night to reopen the vastness of the heart in the rainbow glaze- bliss on earth is the supreme per extatet trath-truth-treth of the creational tree bearing the fruit of the consciousness in the extreme borders of the eternal time. The ra-ru-re dream is the domain made in heaven for earth on earth to earth from big bang towards Sri-Krishna’s hour of magnetic journey. Wide open spaces are becoming the river of the non-time matter we flow into the subtleties of its existence as consciousness takes the gratiyu grip into the far revolving light of the heliospheres.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Divine Mother’s (Mirra Alfassa) Photograph From Archives.