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Rama Krsna Sep 17
in that sacred space
your perky pink-tipped globes
will my breath be tranquil,
free from the turbulent windmills of the mind.

let anyone come or go
let wild elephants rain,
but promise, to never abandon me.

as i shoulder heavy karmic burdens from this time at bat,
you’ve been my partner in crime.

lock me in a tight embrace,
cos when the waves retreat
and my treatise on love is complete,
there will be no page in which you’re not.

© 2023
one of my favorites
Rama Krsna Aug 5
with cupped hands
i chase this beautiful orange sunset
to the ends of the earth,
as the universe grudgingly makes other plans.
here, manhattanhenge calls!

fallen red maple leaves neuters a virus,
but only after many stolen dreams and lives,
now time’s scars fill the contours

an iridologist’s tools don’t lie
her love for me, never shy
but as i lie on the bed of the cosmic serpent, i smile,
knowing time’s true turn
and with it,  life, love, death and dreams

© 2023
Rama Krsna May 28
a novice,  
i may be....

learning the lexicon of love
from a practicing grandmaster
whose expressive kohl-rimmed eyes
dart from side to side,
speaking a million languages of the heart.

nay, transformed
an intimidated admirer of hers,
i’ve become,
from such a great distance.

© 2023
love embedded in silence is beautiful
Rama Krsna Apr 29
how can i ever forget
those penetrating moist eyes
before we bid our final goodbyes.

ringing in my ears now,
are mellifluous incantations
flowing from the synchronized lips
of brahmin priests at this open air temple.

i, as budhanilakanta
adorned with marigold flowers,
recline on a celestial snake,
pondering the blue print
for the next cycle of creation.

one hundred eight lamps
are waved in arcs
as salutations for me,
witnessed by humble devotees.
a spectacle to match
the fireworks of the Milky Way.

but it’s your chosen silence for now,
which resembles the night sky.

as i search for a melody
deep within me,
your face is the pure dawn i seek.
your haunting voice,
the raga, i yearn to hear.

can’t we immerse in the simple joys of human life?
can’t we just add a few more chapters to our cosmic love story?

© 2023
budhanilakantha: Vishnu on the cosmic serpent
yoga nidra: state of awareness within a dream
Rama Krsna Apr 9
nothing can exist
in which you are not,
my blue lord!

deep within those expressive blue eyes,
is a floating peacock feather.
even in koln’s cold full moon now,
i see a tinge of blue.

in all her panoramic photos
which showcase a cerulean blue,
i only see you...
everything animate or inanimate
is you

you’re the Buddha
the science of the formless!

where there’s dharma, there’s Krsna
where there’s artha, there’s Krsna
where there’s kama, there’s Krsna
where there’s moksha, there’s Krsna

here, there and everywhere,
all i see is Krsna.
yet she says she doesn’t see you,
i wonder why?

© 2023
dharma: right action
artha: material prosperity
kama: spiritual and physical love
moksha: liberation and enlightenment
Rama Krsna Feb 5
that streak of light
in the distant dark horizon
can only be you.

in the waters of the ocean
i’m just a wave,
while you pervade as its wetness.
if flowers were black and white
those would be your eyes.

the paper you tossed in the cold air
was me,
but time turned paper to poems.

one day you love me so deeply,
and the next
you hate me so bitterly....
why darling?

is it from the burden of entrusting  my marigold heart to you?
inspired by a beautiful song by A R Rahman and lyrics by Thamarai
Rama Krsna Jul 2022
by this man-made lake
a steady drizzle hums,
the sun, yesterday’s news
as nature’s palette turns green and gray.

staring into the gun metal sky
she nuzzles her hennaed hair
into his gandhian lap,
mesmerized by the pitter patter
she dubs, as tears from heaven.

a bow-shaped stone bridge on the near horizon,
red-eared sliders floating on the water,
the pencil thin architectural skyline,
even the floating melancholy mute swan
beckons monet to rise like the phoenix
and have a second go at whimsical life

but not me,
with a cornucopia of life-scars to show,
and a ticking clock that’s monotonously relentless,
this trip to the crease better be
the last time at bat

© 2022
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