"goa" poems
once dear
if not again
we must be in
Goa when it rains
find a place with
an open terrace
among trees
and lay there
drenched
devoured
for days
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC
I am like a baby in your bay
You hum as I play the tirkit
Based in your basic base
I heat as your beats explode
I’ll hold you as a hungry lover
An angered one waiting in line
I’ll suckle your filled bosoms
Caress your hide in ecstasy
I’ll put you in my mouth to ****
My idea of a realistic performance
A subtle pitch, altered frequencies
Among my dozen of reigned rhythms
A 15th century Persian marvel
Now musing Punjab, Assam,Goa
Maharashtra,Karnataka and Pashtun
Amuse me in another foreign soil
Trance and ****** me to an addiction
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC
*The village by the sea
an homage to simplicity
a rare treasure
of true community
a place paused in time
Climbing coconut trees
Wells song with water
for drinking, cooking
to bathe and be clean
A corner of the coast
let it all hang out
a beach side hippy retreat
where nightly bonfires
burned in celebration
yearning for a freedom
not found in their former
home
The Masquerade called
the US of A
My god parents raised me true
my Madrine and Padrine
speaking Konkani
being
free
loved
nurtured
so pure
the essence surreal
A child of Goa
I will always be
girl in the sands with
her head in the clouds
I will always be
a child of India
no matter where
I find my earthly home
I will always know
from whence
I truly came*
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
when arrived, feels like home
like a bubble, like a dome
peaceful people all around
enjoying this crazy sound
so much colors, crazy figures
all this smells pulling my triggers
intense, incense, aromatic
be tense? no sense, just be static
entering, meeting the fellows
or should I just say some jellos
wiggling with the rhythmic music
for us this is therapeutic
waves of sound hitting my face
punching hard with deepest bass
I believe that things will turn
I choose not to be concernded
this 'so crazy, this 'so good
here we find the greatest brood
jewls of every generation
some eletric, others pacient
colored waters, not for thirst
only if you need a burts
shining patterns underneath
make it hard for me to breath
then the sun comes up for us
contributes for the new buzz
now you see who's there with you
and who didn't make it through
sunglasses get pulled out
soon the sun will loudly shout
soul, mind and body fused
into one nice breakfeast juice
that's when people start to leave
not what I like to archieve
"I will stay", I always say
until the end of the day
molly, goa, lucy, prog
buds and buddys, love and fog
I'm so glad this moments caught me
this is just my type of party
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
.*England... no wolves... oh well... the next best "spirit animal"..? Bacardi! no wait... Whyte & Mackawy?! no... **** what could it be... and believe me, Maine **** cats share a disposition of curiosity with this feral creature... this Robin Hood... what animal is it? hmm...*
it was supposed to your generic,
bog-standard Saturday afternoon,
i was given the pleasure of
cooking dinner...
Xacuti chicken curry with
star anise & nutmeg
from the Goa region
of India and
a curry from Sri Lanka...
absolutely beauties...
evidently...
all that heating of the spices
on a pan and then blending
them in a coffee mill...
seriously spread like a forest fire...
not too long... well,
by the time i finished
all the prep for the second curry,
and was already letting it
simmer...
to my honest disbelief...
and this was mid afternoon,
about half six -
bright as ******* daylight...
who's this?
hello?
you like the smell i see?
god...
what a pristine healthy example
of the feral -
and the most beautiful eyes...
had to take a picture...
so i asked again?
does it really smell that good that
it has given you the kind
of cheek and audacity to risk
climbing out from your
safety prior to nightfall?
**** i heard before that
i am a good cook...
but you, dear fox -
have paid the biggest compliment,
ever.
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
*Goa Goa Goa
a whisper on my lips
Goa Goa Goa
way she moves her hips
Here at this drab desk
On a drab drowned day
Goa Goa Goa
sings the wind in my hair*
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
It's goa my love,
the piece of earth that you cherish.
Streets are narrow and quaint, tiled roofs falling over each other,
clinging to the beam by their nails.
Atmosphere is sultry with sun, *** and surreality.
Surrounding me is you, in a warm womb of induced coma.
How will it be if my head were to be in your lap,
your fingers combing through my curlies?
Should death come at this moment,
I would welcome it with an embrace.
Heat, a beating heart and a stiffness in my *****
my last few vestiges of emotion.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
An aqua-marine dragonfly
hovers in the clarified
light of dusk,
I walk slowly
the risen earth pathway
through the vibrant
green fields
on the outskirts
of the village.
A bell tolls once,
arresting in silence
the moment of foot-fall,
making real
the careful route
along the trodden path
to my house.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 9:55 AM UTC
I woke one day to find my blood all drained into a corner
Of my room, it swathed and swooped like pasta on the burner
Under water, boiling soft, and so content to listen
As to what and where my life has gone, and why I'm missing
Life, and long red roads of ocean currents to old Goa
The world is mad! And me it's had!
At 18 is when I told yah
And I know you didn't want
to disagree.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
If I was a king of Asia I would give you all the gold there is
But I'm not even prince of Persia, all I have is love and dreams
Let me show you land of legends, land of honeymoon and rising sun
I am not as rich as Ali Baba, but I promise we'll be having fun
I'll take you to Bali the gem of Java Sea
Then we'll go on to safari a little south of Abu Dhabi
I'll take you to Maldives to swim in coral reefs
We'll enjoy the sweet papaya on the islands of Pattaya
I'll show you lake Baikal, Tibet and Taj Mahal
We'll see Macao, Yokohama, Hanoi, Jeddah, Jaipur, Jakarta
I'll take you to Dubai, Dushanbe and Mumbai
We'll spend some starry nights in yurts near the city of Yakutsk
I’ll take you to Tashkent where melons got their scent
We will taste all sorts of apples in the city of Almaty
I’ll take you to Beirut we'll go nuts on dried fruits
And the coffee with vanilla we can try it in Manilla
I'll take you to Kashgar to shop at old bazaar
Then we'll fly a magic carpet to the markets of Qatar
We'll see ruins of Karakorum the old capital of Moguls
Then we'll go to Kathmandu and then Karachi and Kabul
We'll discover caves with treasures, make three wishes all at once
All at once will turn to a fairy tale, like in one and thousand nights
Let me show you feast of colors, take you cross the dunes in caravans
Even if I don't look like Alladin, I sure know a thing about romance
I'll take you to Taipei to see its lovely bay
We will sip on Coca Cola on the silky sands of Goa
I'll take you to Shanghai where towers touch the sky
And the best of architecture we will see in precious Petra
We'll go to Ashgabat, Bishkek, Busan, Baghdad
We will see Great Wall of China and Cambodian Angkor Wat
We'll see the Everest, mount Fuji, Gobi Desert
And it's certainly my pleasure to take you all around Asia!
Apr 3, 2022
Apr 3, 2022 at 10:07 PM UTC
A journo aware, equally at home in Palaces, Halls or the streets
Trained to vision duplicity slants and angles and know the crux
Able to see the story behind the story behind the story and more
In ethics robed proudly while mendacity and shenanigans cry shy
Show me the Dai Lama in a crack den or Bill Gates ******* in Goa
Semi demi illiterates with joined-up thinking or unthinking
Immatures lacking emotional intelligence or gainful statures
In groupthink mired settles on group delusions in vicissitudes
We're programming or flooding seeds of doubts or confusing
As if maladroit fantasies are gospels not simpletons' chicanery
Dismissives sad dolts duly outflanked and outclassed inherently
Ignoramuses crude and coarse in true form lacking introspection
Wear disgrace proudly in persistence and parade idiocy fittingly
Strength in numbers neither nullifying stupidity or indignities
Indulgent cowards and sick gate-keeps of unearned entitlements
Nonentities, rabble rousers shamed vigilantes in emotional dearth
Claiming and luxuriating in the depravities of their deficiencies
I remain what I am and no apologies necessary for august status
Your diminutive deeds merely reflects your statures and intellects
Little minds already condemn you to suicides of real aspirations
CopyrightLaurenceA6thNov2018.allrightsreserved
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
We sit there
in our corners of a bar
our eyes never meet,
you there with your
mild mouth and your
signature breath so rare
and your infinite stare
chills to the bone.
We sip scalding tea
etched in time like a
stitch that saved none,
you by yourself
me by myself
not by ourselves
and slowly we burn
out before Saturn
returns to take its rightful
place under the sun.
Think you can write?
Wake up, smell the tea,
You’re just a mardy
*** from Palookaville
so am I
who are we kidding?
Delhi has no lights
or black sparrows
but then again
neither does Goa.
The day will come,
or maybe not,
one day is just
another day, let’s
sleep in and
smoke tea.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
"Time is but a stream I goa-fishing in"
"Who could bear the whips and scorns of time?"
"I wasted time, and now time doth waste me."
"Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today's a gift. That's why it's called the present."
"Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana."
"Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted."
"Time heals all wounds."
And tell me, are you ready for the clocks to stop?
For your life to be poured out like sand, into a pyramid made of the sands of time?
Are you ready
Or not?
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
" Mind" ... a Burden
Do they have brains God!
these scurrying,hurrying,busy little ants?
So fixed in intend, so large their burden
Overcoming all; and to what end?
Do they even know Dear God!
That life is short and so uncertain?
A heavy boot, a gust of wind
And for them, its the curtain.
Do they not think Sweet Lord!
To put down their load awhile?
to savour or bemoan their lot in life,
why carry on regardless, for the good of their kind.
Why do We have brains My Lord?
when it would have served mankind
Just as well as these tiny ants
To work ,live and perish without a thought.
Indu *****
30th May 2011..... Goa
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 9:41 PM UTC
We can all spit on those tablets of stone,
the trinity's on hiatus,
the devil's alone,
School's out for training
it's raining hell fire and the bishops
are recording the antediluvian choir.
Noah's going to Goa,
A lot safer than here,
they say Indian beer's the best.
With his wood and an axe and
several packs of cool Cobra, he sails
into the wind and ends up in the Gobi.
On the edge of a rainbow
'jump Noah',
'don't go',
two people are shouting,
somebody's outing the sailor.
The choir got wrecked on microdot specks and
suspecting the worst, the bishops in Rome
all spit on the tablets hacked out from rough stone,
it was a quiet day in the Vatican, no miracles pronounced
in Perpignan, no Lady of Lourdes, no shroud of Turin,
only the blessing of Geneva dry gin.
Angels with harps all ****** as farts and
the devil sits alone.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
Expanse of sand
Expanse of ocean
Expanse of sky
People with stories
On a beach with as many
In a country with more
Stories I don’t understand
But can feel
Aging hippies
People on the run
The run from normality
There’s a sadness
A sadness in the too thin aging women
Tattoos drooping
On the run from time
Goa
Beautiful and used
A story to tell
The aging hippy dream
Let it go?
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
Pitter patter raindrops gently sprinkle my windows,
Thunder rumbles again.
Sky’s are dark, darker, glooming happily,
The day meanders, hiding and seeking,
and the sky starts pouring its heart out .
Pale silver threads, navigating their way down against a backdrop of green-black trees.
It is June.
And my day of revival, birth and reckoning.
Only a day away from the solstice.
Here in leafy, caressing, sleepy Goa,
the dusk will soon begin its slow, steady, inevitable drawing in.
In my secluded, fragrant, verdant labyrinth,
I sip coffee,
I notice the lone squirrel scurrying away to find shelter,
and listen to birds chirping, bees buzzing, the gurgle of water,
and to an insistent song in my head that just doesn’t stop playing but too spellbound to put pen to paper right now.
And now, as I go for a drive on this quiet, directionless, mellow afternoon,
I cannot remember the word I want to write,
I think I have no words.
The thunder is closer now.
It sounds like drumbeats , the rearranging of celestial furniture, like our transit to this beautiful abode we call home now.
Unexpectedly a bird is singing in the midst of it all unabashedly.
I think about the past.
Not in any structured way. Just people who have come and gone, who linger, who stay and who have left their indelible fragrance around me.
For a few moments, my mind wanders down the past and I sigh at my own predictability.
The thunder is passing. Grumbling and groaning in the distant now.
Each leaf looks freshly washed, scrubbed sparkling clean and shades of green hold my gaze.
The paddy fields look abundant and satiated.
The single bird has become a small chorus, a full roaring celebration on.
I stare at my page. I have still written nothing.
But, sweetness,
I just experienced divinity,
I feel blessed and just absorb the present.
I am the road and the paddy field,
I am the bird, the squirrel and the bee,
I am the thunder, and the rain,
I am the song and the quiet,
In the abundance ,
I am me, what I want to be❤️
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 10:54 AM UTC
Raisin colored Island, how the waters pruned You too, lazy coconut day, climb with rope tied feet and lack the fear of heights. Such terrain as if every part of the world shared a piece to make you. I praise your autonomous solitude, rest assured amongst the South Pacific Blue.
Piecemeal makes much more simply than succeeded individuality. A Euro here, a Euro there, the Rail can take you everywhere....Well, Eastern rules are slightly stern, seems time stood still in terms of brood, but, betwix the contrast of the artistry it is hard to be angry with Tradition.
Goa, India I will never forget You, how could I, You raised me, my mother tongue was Konkoni, the shore side village was Home for me. Later in life coming back shaded a more solemn hue, it is my Heart that couldn't handle it, the Truck ride through....the major transit cities, those who have seen, you know what I mean. It did not help to have to leave my childhood memories and GodParents behind for the hundredth time. I miss you Madrina.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
*well O... well... O, give me life! i need no beggars of the cyclone to repeat the foundations of seasons and things tectonic! O... well, O! rounded-up by rugby geometrics for an oval symmetry of the orbits... O... might i add - oh? well harp me a sigh with it too - or play me the ******* violins... i too might add my toes in the muddy sands of the Calais of India that's Goa: with toes clenched inward like a grip of a crow, or the antics of a ballerina; indeed Calais, the footnote of the Angevins... tell your integrating dogma to successors of william the conqueror's behaviour, as by-way dehumanising righteously - such the tongue spoken, such the tongue rebelling - via the term identified with utmost against the irish post-stamp claims for a peace treaty: rōnin; no, you be sub-human teaching me the language and then venturing into treating me as a simple cashier - no education system is necessary to craft the near robotic professions! why crave capitalism in the educational system when all might be happier un-educated for the professions the lazy aristocrats intended for them?*
i'll march against your little
utopia...
by god i'll march against your
Parisian Disney fairyland
with teeth clenched and fingernails bit
to a manicure!
for the chastity of white
lacking colours of a rainbow -
since on white an imprint,
and on black an absorption to stack-up
the many lacks of expression.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
1. "He is such a **** why did I date him even after knowing he likes James Potter."
2." My award ceremony is tomorrow, I want to attend it."
3."Why was my last food a Margherita Pizza, I want a White-Sauce-Pasta for my funeral."
4. "I wanted to tell mom that I gave her son the idea to drink the toilet cleaner for an easier death."
5. "Dad, I am sorry."
6. "Am I dying?"
7. "I anyway had too many debts. I think God saves everyone from this life."
8. "I want to hug him. Just once. Please."
9."My new CD will be a waste. Mom will scold me...oh yes now she won't be able to."
10. "Our trip to Goa was my biggest dream...why am I dying before fulfilling it?"
11. "Why did I even come here!? I should have listened to mom.."
12. "Mom, I love you"
13. "I wanted to let you know that you were going to be a father of two kids."
14. "I heard their conversation and saw their faces. I need to catch the terrorists."
15. "At Taj, guests are our God and I need to protect my Gods."
16. "Which music am I hearing? What song is it? The hymn of death?"
17. "I don't want to die! Please."
18. "Let me be reborn as their daughter once again. Please"
19. "I think so many people are pleading so thank you for this life."
20. "Don't ever let her read the letters. She will be heart-broken."
21. "I cannot do it anymore but I need to stay awake. Stay aw..."
22." I want to eat a burger."
23. "Mom"
24. "Please let him die with me. He will not be able to survive without his mother."
25. "Please. Not today."
26." She is stupid. Who even likes Snape? I like James, he could marry his love. I want to marry her."
Nov 26, 2020
Nov 26, 2020 at 9:36 AM UTC
The Roman empire has fallen
sadness weeps bitter tears
how the mighty became poor old waif
and the west held their jamboree without ignominy
For once they were carried on shoulders in sedan trains
in pomp and ceremony the masters sought safaris and ruled lions
from Goa to Timbuktu the whiff of toast on marmalade n Darjeeling
jackboots and clipped voices rang in plantations n hymns in churches
The Roman empire has fallen
Tea two anti-depressants please
Oh no no how have the mighty fallen
unwanted unloved we cry diminished glory
no invites to Continental parties no lovers in Casablanca
the dusky maidens as footstool are Doctors at the corner Surgery
those hunky dark torsos ferrying cocoa to steamers heading Cardiff
are now earning two hundred thousand grand a week and drive Rolls
The Roman empire has fallen
now we just drink Bitter all the time
the mighty s of the universe are now *******
come see the bullies in the school playground playing the Raj
let me show you a place where four in ten cannot spell enterprising
did you know when not in the Tropics some go for weeks un-bathed
shock and awe jealousy n envy is the new black making them so mad
old n young no self respect, no dignity and now only sad mad bullies
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 4:29 AM UTC
#*The seven year old twins of my friend,
A boy and a girl
On a visit to their Aunt’s place in South Goa
The village scenic and beautiful
The roads covered in dust from the red soil
Lined by Cashew and mango trees
The children at their Aunt’s countryside villa, happy, stood at the gate
A beautiful moment captured in the lens,
by their mother
The two with looking eyes searching for playmates their age
A moment so precious to be savoured for long*#
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 11:03 AM UTC
it begins with saint piran's flag... well, let's just
say that, there ought to be two "offending"
but classicly marxist, separatists governing bodies
in, what's know as geo-politics...
upper-class retards think that the people
occupying the home county known as essex
are, complete idiots...
well... hello my "fellow" londoner!
nibble on some rat-shit, get a pigeon **** *******
on your top-hat? **** **** off!
the northerners can't claim, that i'm
a southern fairy... in europe there the north / south
and the east / west divide...
the southerners seem to prosper, as do easteners...
and likewise...
essex, and the whole "point" of the south-east...
no... cornwall wan't to be indepedent,
like the basques in spain...
and that flag...
may i make a suggestion to counter the cornwallians?
revert, allow essex to have a teutonic inspired flag
in reverse to yours...
i.e. a black crux on a maiden's "body".
living in essex, i've started to become, irritated
by this county becoming a joke fior the whole nation...
like a bunch of indians saying goa in portuguese...
sure, i know: northern monkeys...
wild antics and bits and bobs...
essex has produced snooker champions...
the other sort of chess-players... the geometricians...
and then the serving geographic is simply quote as:
sun-tan orange "quirky" accent;
and all, from a megapolis that exterminates rats,
but feeds urban pigeons.
in essex? we have woodland pigeons,
and they look like the very-most pristine theologians,
if not priests...
and they're fat...
blooming... and they have the equivalent of
a dog collar... and sure as ****
they won't have one their legs, reduced to a stump
with all the claws removed... like an urban pigeon might,
strutting... well... "strutting"... merely limping.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 11:19 AM UTC