Tell Well, Shall Shell Spell Hell's Bells Pell Mell Responsum To Marion Mantel Maa Aham Brahmasmi I Am Brahman Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

If known, unknown, enjoy a perfect fusion
illusion in itself may contribute
to overwrite illusions of confusion
between ideas that sundry sects confute.

No medicine can cure life's revolution
as death, if death exists, strife turns to dust,
iron to rust, while lust proves no solution;
may bust prove boon if boom soon ends in bust?

Though knower, knowledge merge where light’s way's greeted,
dark sable seeds need for their journey out,
thus urge to surge, to merge, style self completed,
seems in itself crime's partnership with doubt.

Duality denies mind void discounting
all emptiness as horse mid-[t]race dismounting.

Aham Brahmasmi I Am Brahman
The Vedas’ wisdom penetrates confusion,
like medicine that penetrates the cells,
eradicating illness of illusion,
and liberating mind from countless hells.

Like this, one-pointedness of mind’s established,
and knower, knowledge, known now merge as One.
When Brahman as our own true Self is cherished,
the medicine has worked, its job is done.

But may I nonetheless inform the readers
that holding on to scripture’s not the goal?
In Brahman, there are neither worlds nor Vedas,
nor gods, nor sacrifices and no soul.

From dual parade, senses are withdrawn.
Through empty no-mind, Brahman shall be known
Investigate the source and mind itself will disappear Ramana Maharshi.