my poetic joss
seems
to have run out
for now.

this patch of dry ink,
feels like a bee,
visiting flower to flower,
only to find no honey

oh goddess of poetry!
when will thou
take a seat
on the tip of my tongue
for the river of poetry
to flow freely?

© 2017

scarred
for life
she was....

not from
the burns inflicted
by an archaic kitchen stove
which quietly
became her life...

or those instances
of physical abuse
levied against her
by her drunken husband

but by a barrage
of verbal diarrhea,
sprayed from
his foul mouth,
each stinging word
sharper than any sword

© 2017

after fourteen billion years
of separation,
shakti
is finally ready
for her rendez-vous
with shiva
the true love of her life...

as duality ends
matter
and awareness
become one

© 2017

ever noticed
three cloaks worn by God:
omnipresent,
omnipotent,
and omniscient,
all start with
om,

it's as though
providence says:
om (n) i are:
present, potent and scient

om,
thou art
the sacred sound
of the cosmos,
and the very breath
of consciousness

© 2017

my darling krsna,

isn't it time
to put away
that decorated flute
of yours?

knowing well
this is where
soulful melodies
which sustain
the rhythm of the universe
emanates from

let the birds stop singing
the gopis stop dancing
the stars stop shining
and the universe stop expanding

from here on
you belong
to me alone...

eternally yours,

radha

© 2017

with a sleight
of thy hands
you draw the mighty
wheel of time
into submission
of thy will

with a crack
of thy smile
you draw
my fickle mind
into poesy of thy greatness

to this timeless
cosmic dancer
who's without
a beginning or end
i offer my prostrations.

© 2017

behind
this dancing peacock
with azure feathers
fanned
in visible excitement
i spy
the blue lord of my heart

staff in hand,
attending to
grazing cows,
while showering
his love and tender care

god,
simply doing his part
as the protector
of all beings
small and big

© 2017