#durga
The goddess looks breathtaking
In her red saree, an emblem of marriage.
Her skin is soft to touch,
Yet she carries a heavy sword in her hands.
The goddess looks serene and calm,
Only that she is about to **** the darkness of demons who are awaiting their freedom.
The goddess wears Kohl in her eyes,
Only to smudge it with her tears.
As she wins the battles plunging the heart out of evil.
The goddess is a mother, she wears red bangles, a colour for both womanhood and rage,
Intertwined and interconnected since the beginning of time.
The Goddess has given birth to her children
with great pains and no agony can beat her strength.
As Devi would not hesitate to become a bloodthirsty Kali
To protect her children.
Divine femininity I bow to you.
Men can only know the power of violence,
But Devi knows the power of love,
How in times of war, it can be our biggest weapon.
Fueled by the energy to **** not out of hatred or Revenge,
But love that led a Mother to pick up arms
So she could protect us all
from the evil that harbours within.
Devi is divine feminine and I bow to her.
She has been created from the strength of all mothers and sisters and daughters.
She tells us the ancient tale of
how women always have had the hidden strength
To leave trails of destruction, only when forced.
Devi does not bleed every month only to be scared of the blood of
evil rakshasas on her hand.
The goddess will happily drink it
And decorate her hands with the demon's blood,
Spreading it on her fingers like red henna.
Devi looks focused, almost peaceful as she kills Mahishasur.
She doesn't want the glory of power.
Her only truth is love.
Even in the heat of battle, Devi's beauty shines through.
Divine Feminine, I bow to you.
Sep 29, 2024
Sep 29, 2024 at 7:58 AM UTC
this long red tunic
hides her battle scars well.
centuries of fighting incarnations of cunning lucifer
her eyes sea blue,
her lips blood red,
the crescent moon on her forehead
witness to her numerous accolades.
in the continuing saga of good vs evil,
her next battle begins.....
this warrior goddess of exquisite beauty
pauses to smile,
just for you and me.
with this gifted diamond earring
now worn
as her cosmic amulet,
her ultimate victory is near certain!
© 2021
Oct 9, 2021
Oct 9, 2021 at 8:45 AM UTC
with
her tintinnabulating anklets
sullen ‘time’
now thirsty for blood
sticks her elongated tongue
at ‘consciousness’
threatening to annihilate him
and his tired creation
ever present ‘consciousness’
in his state of yogic trance
smiles to counter:
for me - ‘time’ always is still
at best, relative
so, if and when,
i wake up to perform
my ultimate twilight dance,
will you even exist?
© 2021
Jun 12, 2021
Jun 12, 2021 at 9:33 AM UTC
standing in tree pose
palms folded above head,
not even the raging flames
which envelope you
dare threaten thy resolve,
as those fish-shaped eyes
meditate on
the space between the brows
where your true love resides
resident of kanchi,
need for strict austerities
are now over.....
it’s time to open
those compassionate eyes
and cast a glance
at the verklempt heart
of your ultimate devotee,
me!
©2021
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 2:18 PM UTC
Druga is illusion
A symbol or a membrane
A discus to be thrown
To observe the arc in sunshine.
She is not the ball
To be shotput through
She is not the goal
But a passage by the soul.
Sit, spread
Your arms wide as rainbow.
Wife, you have forgotten
The son is not your daughter.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 5:23 PM UTC
show me
but a glimpse
of your alluring beauty
an unlined forehead
streaked with vermilion,
lotus-like eyes
where cupid resides,
bow shaped lips
which shame the tulips,
and those full-moon bubbles
which alleviate all troubles
even shiva
cosmic ascetic
gets weak in the knees,
in your voluptuous presence
© 2019
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC
daughter of the mountain
those fierce himalayan winds
bring home
the music of your tinkling anklets
with each cat-like step
you take
i hear esoteric ragas
neatly arranged
forming musical treatises
exalting
your indescribable beauty
and infinite greatness
for now,
i meditate on
that space
between these notes
which is where
i know
you truly reside
© 2019
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
there on the scaffold
colorful cacophonous screams emanating from workman’s coveralls
captivated her
rebel in real life
engaged by her lack of hero worship dedication to her art the common cause
her fire drew him to her
and so they began to weave their tapestry
it tells a story
tumultuous
traveled
torn
tragic
timeless
true
brilliant hues
life
as art
compatriots
rebels
lovers
newsreels
public pride
personal degradation
recovery
reconciliation
back on the scaffold
cacophony revisited
back on bedrest
resilient resisting unceasing unaccepting
scaffold and ego deemed titanic-like demand artistic license uncompromising
crushed crumble disintegrate
lose face credibility
turn tale
and run to the one deemed feeble
whose
spirit knows no bonds
as body knows no freedom
yet
is Hercules for them both
until
the day her plaits were drawn crisscross on her forehead
decorated with huge glorious blossoms
plucked from the patio
lips kissed
last breath
a pair destined for the history books
a love
rollercoasterlargerthanlife
FateD?
Frida & Diego: FateD?
© 2017 rochelle foles
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 11:07 PM UTC
There is a beautiful Saint, disguised in the body of a girl,
She tries to hide it, but the curtain tends to fall,
She is tuff, but sweet like honey,
She must be strong, because life is not always funny.
She holds the Earth on her shoulders, but inside she is a child,
Trying to tame a lioness born in the wild,
There is a time when people will see,
Not the sweetness, but the tremendous force she is ment to be.
And the world will sing her name,
Not of glory, nor of fame,
They will pray for salvation,
Because she's the one that give it with no hesitation.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 6:06 AM UTC