Best Goa Poems
Sleep, my love, near placid waters
Under a pale moon that lights the way,
Mosquitos resound their ranks to attack
A humble cottage where you and I stay.
I forage through your hair like the tiger
Whilst you rest your head on saffron pillows,
I press my lips hard against thy milky breasts,
Watching your eyes lift to gaggling swallows.
Your resisting thighs give way to my stern will
You make love as burning hearts confess,
Never shall we come again to this sweet valley
Where the fermented nectar of rapture is pressed.
Have I found you forever, O flower of this land?
Hand in hand together, as we jaunt though the sand.
While the waves lash the shores and splash in soft music
The dishes we serve here in this Golden Grain restaurant
Emanate aroma into the nostrils a pungent sweet exclusive
Have you visited this earlier too or how are you insouciant
A sip of sweetly sour sea food clear soup with tofu in your mouth
While on your hair the wind from the Arabian Sea plays its tickles
As you change your seat for the cool wind coming from the south
Our gracious waiters serve you mouth watering sea food pickles
Tasting the cheesy tuna salad as you share your moments with sea
The boundless sky above invites you to look at its cracked blue art
We are mystified if we will have the listen and sight or have the glee
In Sorpotel with rice, the Goan cuisine we must take to fill our heart
Made of pork in spices coconut vinegar and green chillies
Sorpotel is the essence of Christian gastronomy of Goa
The pungent and little salty flavor will without doubt ease
Your fatigue and more so if you take chunks of chilly soya
To which delight you will employ your perception is
A challenge as your eyes are amazed at the sight of
Seagulls in front of the restaurant leaving the breeze
Have become scavengers in their wing-spread hops
There is the all time favourite basil leaf spread lovely
Pizza dough of Phoenix with a crisp but chewy crust
Made by our chef himself who learned his art at Italy
Sweet salty pizza margheritta of ours take you must
Bebinca you all have to take in its full seven saffron layers
Get the personification of Goan spirit in this unique dessert
While listening to and looking at the splashy music players
Nonetheless your taste buds seek the sweet food for a flirt
Golden Grain is a golden moment in the golden sea beach
Do step in and taste the food with waves within your reach
_____________________________________________________
9/9/2016
For My imaginary restaurant - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Those go to Goa who are due
And wired like you and a little screwed,
And inclined to obesity -
Explorers of electricity
The ground smells rich with leaves of tea,
Your footprint on the beach is a seal.
Silence seminar's aimed, weaved
Just for those who were summoned to plead.
Such a coordinate system
Where east is west and where north is south.
Lime, grapes, pomegranate - here listen! -
Are creating inside you a mouth.
My height determines the shadow,
Pulse is dictating shore break with shells.
Today is that day of mellow
When you are finally born as self.
Here you go, an alphabet, dear
And here you go - a whole new planet.
God's pretending he never met
You and that He is not in fact here.
Abhorrent those phizog few,
At times they flood his mind.
He did not even know why them his mind drew,
He has got to get down, reasons to find.
His mindly nib, she oozes memories,
Of old and new… far but few,but many ,that he knows not.
On papyrus his mind scribbles and carries,
And then drains encapsulated emotions that afore are now brought.
His heart bleeds of porous feelings,
Bleached and dried by furious despotism.
Of people he knew real close in life’s dealings,
Of the ones he had no knowledge of their absolutism.
Blood flows from his weary eyes,
Tears flow from his broken heart.
But he has not yet learnt life’s game of dice.
All he has borne is the fury of the tyranny’s dart.
My thoughts like his lie chained ,
My mindly nib brings afore,
Glued stuck and stained.
Memories of the past eon all sore.
Get up my Goa…..
Can one dare to hope…
Instead of all in this darkness grope
All he can hear is Empty voices….. cold… dark and sterile,
Shapless dreams , but sought in the midst of peril
Black mirrored roads and murky simmering waters,
Is no place for perfect reflections, but for our dream slaughters
Leaving behind a land adorned by hungry eyes…
Its beauty diminishing like wisps of smoke amidst populous cries……
Get up stand up….
ElseWe will run blinded in the dark,
And meet the hard embrace
Of whispered truth and scolding truth without a scenario of a worser case
You are watched and inspected,
Governed , directed , censored and corrected.
You are told what to do,
You are told how far to go.
Where is that haloed glow?
No more a part of your grand show,
Have they driven your thoughts to a tangent,
Oh then even your smile could shortly become pungent.
Your sanity unseen
Your senses now dumb that were earlier keen.
I still cannot reconcile as to why?
Why why and why?
You still walk in sheathed in tatters of pride….
Lips closed but open eyed…..
How long……..
Do we have to be forlorn
How long……..
Do we have to be forlorn
As I opened the door
And stepped inside the divine floor
A gentle zephyr bore upon my core
The tranquil ambience aroused me wishes galore
And I felt I’ve completed my journey to God’s manor.
There is the aureole addressing the path,
the path to the house of worship,
even in the dark it is a sign of luminescence
Shinning against all irreverance.
God made heaven and earth and all the angels
and all the extra important angels, called Archangels.
The Archangels were God’s very special friends
and were shinning and strong and powerful
They adhered God's message
To human races.
From the essence of humanity
I feel mankind is comprehensive
They are gifted with a communal harmony
And from the essence of spiritual luminance
Divinity is never classified
And the idol we worship is in the core of mankind.
Today when I see the unity within
I feel to be a part of them
They don’t have any caste as such
Neither have they belonged to any religions
Christians, Hindus and Muslims
Together they are Goans.
Thence I hold my breath
Along the serene western sky
To the sandy coastal line
There to blend with the ocean rage
And legless gamy sight.
Live shells, fresh air and sunrise at the horizon,
a lazy day and a walk to remember.
I gave up everything
just to feel am the only admirer
Along the coast I rove alone,
and I see am being followed,
but not by humans
but by the species I never acquainted before
Seeking for your morning lust,
I call upon a peaceful realm,
I decided to hold your hand,
and thence I committed to feel the warmth.
Before I leave,
let us rock on the sandy beach,
let us blend with the folk culture
and together we will grab the trance music and dance,
the moments we will collect may bring us back to here.
28th &29th March 2012.
Sandy saunter through virgin sands,
The trudging pathways lead me to beach lands.
Cam a red nude peeped under a Mac,
Slight drizzle from the clouds, into the coco nut grove I move, on the hammock to lie aback.
Blue carpets waves silently lie await to gala regattas,
Satan oscillates my metallic sonatas.
Beneath the tepid and warm waters lie melodies churned,
Now on whipped and agitated waters surf frothy strains upturned.
White virgin sands lie dormant and waiting,
Bright sands looks like satin spread , love making.
Waiting and dormant lie sands virgin white,
Making love ,spread satin like, looks sand bright.
Water gliders and surfers , the sandy shores they crowd,
Skills and mind thrills by practice they are now richly endowed.
Ah Satan sees Natasha,
They are all competing Asha, Natasha, Trasha and handsome Pasha
PALINDROMES
Cam a red nude peeped under a Mac,
Satan oscillates my metallic sonatas
White virgin sands lie dormant and waiting,
Bright sands looks like satin spread , love making.
Ah Satan sees Natasha
By: Sashi .Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Old weary & weaving roads to Colva it made me take,
To Mickey’s I was heading after a long break.
The monsoon rains & the heady winds,
Shut down the joint , but the ambiance it reminds.
Opened this joint to yester’s morn,
For the native, traveler or tourist afore he moved on.
Warm is the vibe & cool is the breeze,
The gamut so delicious , are cooked a wee bit of grease.
The thatched rays ,they creep into the woven roof,
The tables are spread out for space aloof.
The people are warm and the ale is cold,
And the clustered guest they are young & old.
As dusk sets in , more soothing the breeze,
The hotelier, he must stuff more beers into his deep freeze.
As twilight sets and the lights come on,
With the heat & dust , its all gone.
The gentle breeze now fills his hall,
As night descends, it’s fun for all.
The lights are dim but the vista is great,
The menu’s lines they wish to be on your plate.
The moon is up and the stary sky deplete,
In walks my girl for me to meet.
The feast was great & precious time spent,
Mickey’s to remember it’s meant.
My final time with God
Happened a year latter
I was staying down in Goa
With my wife
Enjoying being with her
After our reconciliation
We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa
Living like Kings and Queen
Just for a few days
High up on a hill
Overlooking the beach
Every morning I went down to the beach
And did yoga by the water
While contemplating life
And every morning
I saw the same dog
Not just a dog
But a cosmic dog
Filled with the divine spark of God
And the dog recognized me
And spoke to me and I knew
That God was present once more
In the face of the that cosmic dog
Kindred spirit
perhaps to the cosmic cat
that had save my soul
in Berkeley so long ago
I told the dog everything
And he just looked at me
With those soulful eyes of his
And I knew he knew that I knew
That he was possessed by God
God had sent him to me
To make sure that I was on the right path
That the reconciliation that God had promoted
Was on track that I was back with my wife
And that everything was the way it should be
Again I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah
Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha
God the cosmic dog just stared at me
I finally asked him directly
Say if you are God the God of Jesus
Bark once
The Dog looked at me and barked
I said well if you are Allah bark twice
The dog barked twice
Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes
The god dog barked three times
Hmm well are you Satan
The dog growled at me
And I knew I had gone too far
Finally I was at peace
And for the next three days
The God Dog was my constant companion
And I knew God for the final time
In my life
The Goa restaurant was in a quiet neighbourhood
a place with small shops selling domestic wares
of the things needed for everyday use
a place I would like to live instead of in a tower block
on entering the restaurant, I took a direct aversion
of the dark blue brocade covering the chairs and also
of the golden-painted walls, but let it pass.
The food we were served was good but ordinary
In the Indian style, they tend to use the same spices
so, all dishes that, in the end, taste the same.
We drank cold beer, and later, my wife had ice cream
and I had a cup of strong coffee.
When I lived in England, I used to after the pubs closed
go to an Asian restaurant to drink some more and
eat chicken with fries, but I can’t remember if the food
was any good; the question is: am I racist, or is it
that I simply like European cuisine.