Short Herdsman Poems

Lyra and Herdsman
Two constellations erotic couple
Milking over the Lotus Fiber-Haired River

On the nurtured bridge
That is attached to a celestial meet
From the standing

Of your heaven gaze
Before the evening 
Of a large form....

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I lie in the reclining chair, 
sucking my teeth
and wonder why the passing cattle
only stop in the field next door

and then the herdsman comes
with his tortured, twisted cattle- 
prodding stick, and they all move on,
me, the herdsman and the cattle...

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My boss bargains by Brooklyn bridge
I find fluffed feathers in my fridge!
At night, nostalgic nooks are found,
I see the hunter, herdsman, hound.

All say it's nonsense!
But it's not.

Seldom speaking, staying silent so
Within me, the great grudge grows.
I'm not cunning, can't care, can't cure
I am lonely, can't love, lie, lure.

Sick, sad, seeking sympathy
In this monotonous mess.
Where the world wears and wan
Can't we all be friends?...

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Take my hand,walk with me,
Like the light,let me lead you to the farm
A music show awaits;
Bees humming within the isolated apiary
Cows moe in their grazing circles,
While sheep's bleat amongst them;
Donkeys braying, dogs barking in a distance,
The rooster throws in a mix with a crow,
The pigs grunt,grunt,grunt here and there.
The herdsman whistles, the birds chirp nonstop;
The wind blows by,a cool refreshing we get,
Before granny's hungry cat hisses,and purrs by my one side eye.
...

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There were meadows free to the far,            
Clean, green and quiet calm.
Pebbles and stones, scattered,
As in the blue sky’s stars’ view.

On a remote-side grew wild thorns high,
Played the bees and b‘flies and I;
And the good dog passing by had watched us
On his hurried walk
From an afar village
To the distant one.

By the broken-burnt mulberry,
Lone, half erect and half down,
Goats grazed with caws and sheep
And the old herdsman with his tiffin and cane,
Called, cried, whistled and ran....

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