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"devas" poems
I share my wife and bed with another guy They look into each others' eyes and with love they sigh It's not easy, but there is so much love And support from the angels and devas above It is a challenge, we are all full of desires and need We share laughter, massage, mystery, and games With careful, open eyes we proceed In the morn sometimes she's exhausted from their labors of love I serve her a fruit shake, creamy and cold And we listen, dazed to the morning dove As the sun rises, hues of bronze and gold Some may think a ********* is the cat's meow An exciting adventure of discovery, and how! But there's a lot of homework on this path of old Even if the other guy is only eight months old! Even if it's all about lactation Not *********** It's still a path to walk where so many riches unfold!
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 1:09 AM UTC
Menage A Trois - *********
The Universe is our Kamasutra constellations, red tailed comets brilliant devas, divine horsemen prance through the galactic playground everywhere and in everything our eyes behold a starry courtship Romance impregnates the very air we breathe billowy breezes caress our bodies and the sun does not hesitate to shower us with burning kisses mysterious lady of the coven night cools the passions of the day with dreamy moonlight and soft melody Innocent, pristine we experience, explore and enjoy the sacred foreplay blooming in the garden of our chakras So vastly turned on feeling high expansive all inclusive How can we contain the bliss that courses through every particle and atom towards its ultimate collective consummation Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati locked forever in the throes of Love “Spirit and Nature dancing together”
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
Gift of the Gods
On watching Indian Polity Such was my country twenty-one Summers ago In a starry night I ,with my wife Prema young Walked along the road of midnight Mysore slow As snow veil clad chilling breeze rippled along. No ****** , drunkard, rowdy, as hyenas did draw No clique with camera to strip or **** did throng An auto -driver so friendly took us to a lodge; so Gladly with son Sudev we enjoyed Dassara song . Now, in every city , I fancy , Sahasralinga’s attacks From Bars with bars such barbarians may pounce As executive dread such law-breakers to punish. Political aspirants languid sit in and pronounce In Parliament to protect the culprits from barracks Deceiving democrats and putting them in anguish. ====================================== Note: Prema: name of wife; Sudev: name of baby(son). Sahasralinga: nickname of Indra /Devendra.(King of Devas who live in luxury. Parliament: the legislative building. Mysore: the city in Karnataka,India former capital of Mysore kings. Dassara:a state festival in Karnataka, ==========================================
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Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 6:37 AM UTC
On Watching my Polity
On The Sixth Moon's Night I came to contemplate the cosmos. I awoke on a mountainous range: Projected were ten thousand isles, scattered in remain. All dancing differently, But constructing one eternal game. To what extent might my eye expand? To what end will death cast its sand? Upon what shore may the waves crash again In peace and calm harmony? No matter how many curtains the Devas will draw Or how many distinctions Māyā will make~ Always, the un-curved perfection subdues and surrenders to them all. Like the water-way, cultivating life and harvesting it on the other side. Formless, it surpasses all stiff form and creates a path of least resistance To the goal of the heart. --- You cannot carve a stone buddha out of human flesh. A stone buddha cannot experience samadhi nor still a pond. Mind is a mirror that must be seen clearer! But behind the glass and that transient social class, What is that divine perception? "The Ultimate Peerer"
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
A Bird's Distant Call
A young pandit with infinity in his eyes smiles When I ask if I may pour the holy prasad into the roots of the sacred Peepal tree The heart-shaped leaves dance as I approach silk sari fluttering colors They dance before and after dance always all is bliss to the devas of this lovely tree
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
Prasad
The mind whispers,walk the path of dharma,like Arjuna, with his bow drawn tight. The heart replies, let me offer love into it,like Meera, singing to her Krishna through the night. Situations whirl around me. Like the churning of the cosmic ocean—Samudra Manthan Where every choice pulls like devas and asuras Tugging between what’s right… and what’s desired. But my soul, ancient and still,speaks in the voice of Vishnu, resting upon Ananta. Soft, eternal, and unshaken Do what is necessary Time moves—like Shiva in his Tandava Moments rise and fall Karma spins its golden wheel. In the center of it all Like a flickering diya in the wind Like Draupadi with folded hands I stood… still. Not knowing what’s right and what’s desired. Until something touched me Not a voice, not a word,but a divine light Like the jyoti of Arunachala. The kind of light Yashoda must’ve See when she looked into Krishna’s mouth and saw the universe. It said: When your heart and mind stop their war and start walking together,like Lakshmi beside Vishnu grace flows into action. Miracles don’t just visit…They begin to live in you. When your soul accepts the leela,when it bends with the time,even suffering becomes prasad. Even poison, like Neelakantha’s, becomes a sacred strength. So I bow Not in surrender,but in sacred acceptance. I do not run after answers. I do not ask the winds to calm. I walk the sacred thread—that unseen sutra,woven by Saraswati’s wisdom and Sita’s silence. That ties duty to devotion. Lets love carry its weight. With no need for reward.
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Apr 11, 2025
Apr 11, 2025 at 2:10 PM UTC
When duty meets devotion
The mind whispers,walk the path of dharma,like Arjuna, with his bow drawn tight. The heart replies, let me offer love into it,like Meera, singing to her Krishna through the night. Situations whirl around me. Like the churning of the cosmic ocean—Samudra Manthan Where every choice pulls like devas and asuras Tugging between what’s right… and what’s desired. But my soul, ancient and still,speaks in the voice of Vishnu, resting upon Ananta. Soft, eternal, and unshaken Do what is necessary Time moves—like Shiva in his Tandava Moments rise and fall Karma spins its golden wheel. In the center of it all Like a flickering diya in the wind Like Draupadi with folded hands I stood… still. Not knowing what’s right and what’s desired. Until something touched me Not a voice, not a word,but a divine light Like the jyoti of Arunachala. The kind of light Yashoda must’ve See when she looked into Krishna’s mouth and saw the universe. It said: When your heart and mind stop their war and start walking together,like Lakshmi beside Vishnu grace flows into action. Miracles don’t just visit…They begin to live in you. When your soul accepts the leela,when it bends with the time,even suffering becomes prasad. Even poison, like Neelakantha’s, becomes a sacred strength. So I bow Not in surrender,but in sacred acceptance. I do not run after answers. I do not ask the winds to calm. I walk the sacred thread—that unseen sutra,woven by Saraswati’s wisdom and Sita’s silence. That ties duty to devotion. Lets love carry its weight. With no need for reward.
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The purest form of grace I know Is shown in vows forged long ago; A bodhi mind aspired to save All beings caught within the wave Of grim Samsara's round of birth -- A mighty Vow that shook the earth; While from the heavens flowers fell, That fluttered to the deepest hell, And dharma fragrance even there Perfumed the dark and hopeless air; Then devas, men and hungry ghosts -- In every realm these countless hosts -- Saw piercing their Samsaric night A dazzling and unhindered Light, And heard these words: 'Would you receive Rebirth in Bliss? Then just believe In My resolve and power to save All beings from Samsara's wave, And say My Name, My Name alone, That at the end, when life is done, I shall appear before your eyes; (You have My word that your demise Pertains to but conditioned things); Your bodhi mind shall rise on wings To Sukhavati's blissful shore, And Namo Amitabha ever more!'
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May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC
The Purest Grace