Oh the fatal moment of us
That enticing eyes and broad thighs
The soft voluptuous round lips
The soft garden in the front - 38
The stylish back well formed
You are the epitome of gorgeousness
You are the queen of kamasutra
I am lost in your curvy body
Your neck is so smooth
Your hands are like a baby cute
My passion knows no limit now
Sleeplessness occurs often
Lost in your body, I succumb to thee everyday
I conquer and I cherish thee
You bring out my animal instinct
My heart's hearbeat heat horny harmonium
I want to have you in my arms now
To crown the year with glory we ascend
to St Pancras alone upon a hill,
five bells ring out, the summer to transcend.
There Mary at the harmonium will
play as we sing of Christ above on high.
I brought Champagne a farewell gift and so
it's time blow the cork towards the sky,
then to bless it and bread that grace may flow
from God through Christ. We share the bread and pass
the fizzing chalice, as bubbles arise
lifting in celebration souls and hearts
caught up as one with delight and surprise.
Grounded once more the bottle we finish,
fizzing forth – a festival to cherish.
At the gates of Heaven
I sit and sing Your praise
Where is Maya now?
when the only sound my mind
can hear is Hari Nam
My sari a silk prayer flag
flutters in the tranquil breeze
pastel blue, pink
and yellow hues of Prashanthi
abode of highest peace
Listen manas to the music
timbrel, flute and harmonium
they too sing the glory of God
Still we must be vigilant
our hands continuously harvesting
the bliss of selfless service
our thoughts, words and deeds
a divine mala on which we
incessantly chant Hari Nam
Eternal Companion
old habits die hard
and charming snakes with
golden hoods
rattle in the ghostly shadows
Hold me closer, Ancient Self
tighter still...steal my breath
So...so that I am blue skinned like
You
And when the ways of the world
have passed away
Scatter my ashes...vibhuti stars
all along the Bhakti path
the krishnachura and the champa
both of them
have the only-one unsheathed afternoon
both of them
have the same-one broken harmonium
how long more the eyes of terracotta
would roam in the sun
the uneven fate-line
is written on the green slate
the sound of the vocal chord is also eloquent
as if it were some bare trees of wood-apple
around the swimming
there are some scattered scrapes of slippers
the colour of whose straps
is blue
and some tales of the faded sky
i return home with the night of
phosphorus
i return with those waves of the
mid-night that have no translation
i lay them in order