Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"gopi" poems
A River In Madurai, city of temples and poets, who sang of cities and temples, every summer a river dries to a trickle in the sand, baring the sand ribs, straw and women’s hair clogging the watergates at the rusty bars under the bridges with patches of repair all over them the wet stones glistening like sleepy crocodiles, the dry ones shaven water-buffaloes lounging in the sun The poets only sang of the floods. He was there for a day when they had the floods. People everywhere talked of the inches rising, of the precise number of cobbled steps run over by the water, rising on the bathing places, and the way it carried off three village houses, one pregnant woman and a couple of cows named Gopi and Brinda as usual. The new poets still quoted the old poets, but no one spoke in verse of the pregnant woman drowned, with perhaps twins in her, kicking at blank walls even before birth. He said: the river has water enough to be poetic about only once a year and then it carries away in the first half-hour three village houses, a couple of cows named Gopi and Brinda and one pregnant woman expecting identical twins with no moles on their bodies, with different coloured diapers to tell them apart.                                                                                                                                      ~A.K.Ramanujan
0
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
A River (by A.K.Ramanujan)
A River In Madurai, city of temples and poets, who sang of cities and temples, every summer a river dries to a trickle in the sand, baring the sand ribs, straw and women’s hair clogging the watergates at the rusty bars under the bridges with patches of repair all over them the wet stones glistening like sleepy crocodiles, the dry ones shaven water-buffaloes lounging in the sun The poets only sang of the floods. He was there for a day when they had the floods. People everywhere talked of the inches rising, of the precise number of cobbled steps run over by the water, rising on the bathing places, and the way it carried off three village houses, one pregnant woman and a couple of cows named Gopi and Brinda as usual. The new poets still quoted the old poets, but no one spoke in verse of the pregnant woman drowned, with perhaps twins in her, kicking at blank walls even before birth. He said: the river has water enough to be poetic about only once a year and then it carries away in the first half-hour three village houses, a couple of cows named Gopi and Brinda and one pregnant woman expecting identical twins with no moles on their bodies, with different coloured diapers to tell them apart.                                                                                                                                      ~A.K.Ramanujan
Continue reading...
51
she moves in red silk a ghazal on white marble Smile of the Blue Lord
0
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Gopi
Gopi star maidens roam across an ever widening void searching for their darling Giridhari "Krishna why have You abandoned us?" "Your foot prints have gone cold and the music of Your ankle bells are deathly silent" "The universe is so colossal, baffling, unfathomable, bewildering and incomprehensible" "Where are You?" "We beg only for Your celestial embrace" The Lord opens His ginormous, glittering, galactic blue mouth and laughs misty worlds evaporate and reappear Elysian fields, sweet perfumed scents of Paradise sweep across our Souls Beloved Krishna with the cashmere eyes that old snake charmer plays His golden flute Radha seated eternally by His side The empty jhoola swings
0
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
Empty Jhoola
Swami You have driven us all mad with Your bewitching Love we gather in confused circles spinning senselessly like gopi maidens without Sri Krishna in their arms Over the barren dust bowl hills of Parthi the wind sobs and red eyed rainclouds weep Your Holy name even rays of the sun scan the earth for a chance to fall once again upon Your tender Lotus Feet Beloved Lord roll away the gravestone from our hearts the funereal shroud that hides our immortal truth Lift the white veil and gaze into lovestruck eyes eternally wedded to You
0
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Inseparable
Far from the restless boom box blare jazz blue **** city lights and guitars on fire miles from the urban smell of opulent people, pierced armpits bulldog buildings pressed together in a dead-heat many asphalt moons from quaint village cafes Yankee Stadium, Central Park, Queens Boulevard and downtown mystical bookshops I found a clear, pure halcyon stream hewn from stars, trickling down from Heaven an affluent vision of strength gushing over the softer translucent parts of me gentle Yogi yodeling through my alpine heart lets sail upstream to the roof of your prayer washed Zen mountain offer lotus garlands and incense at sunrise we kneel in the Temple Alucinante (Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book: 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi http://amzn.com/0984787216)
0
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Temple Alucinante
( I am Happy to announce the publication of my new poetry book: 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi by Sonya Ki Tomlinson available on Amazon http://amzn.com/0984787216) Happy and Holy Holidays 108 bhakti kisses Courting Your adoring feet 108 Names of God adorn the temple gates where I kneel close to Your precious Feet 108 Crystal mala beads poised like stars passing one by one over my fingers tiny bridges across an immense and luminous expanse Infinite frontier The Soul returning to its Source offspring of Light I look to the Heavens my sustenance thunderheads, distant mist solitary black cameo shape of a bird soaring swiftly vanishes into ballooning, billowing blue wilderness of Your eyes
0
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
108 Bhakti Kisses
There is a humility in art, Where simplicity plays its part. There is an excitement Of primordial sensations, Solubility and Insolubility of textures, And the sublime fluid, Of deconstructions. Its’ menace haunts, A View in the Dark. The forms are stolid. Black and stark. Beyond Black is where The hues play Hide ‘n’ Seek. Surfacing, Resurfacing, Diving headlong, Into the absence of a peak. The smudge and the smog, In the dizziness of Desire, Are the nuances of a beige fog, Perturbed in a Vertical Blue retire. All the lines ****** As they refuse to talk, Questioning the lingering persuasion, Of the eyes that stalk. The dawn silence Answers in a luxuriant red, When rebellious strokes, Keep dancing on that fiery bed. Fragments keep coalescing into a whole, It pulsates against the senses, This Illusion of the soul. This song is bright, Even in the absence of light, The Song of Silence, Portrays an indomitable might. The Mirage looks back, Like every familiar stranger, The unsettling Rejoicing Red, Such impacts can auger. *Blossom in dark, Through Dark and Deep, Rhythm of tones, A View in a Dream*. Alone breathes the Isolated Red, As The Melodies in Grey Resonate What the Resonance of Blues Had left unsaid. There is a bucolic symmetry, A revelling immortal mystery, In The Meditative Silence, Of Gopi Gajwani
0
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 1:18 AM UTC
The Meditative Silence of Gopi Gajwani
Clay circles that allows my hands to almost touch ribbed startle of your Soul in flight That permits my breath snake's tongue to probe inside echoes of a time you weren't so sad and mocking Wing tips brushing floating face down in keenness of memory I join lines running rivers of peyote stretch skin across a stone sphinx silently relive the enigma Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book: 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi http://amzn.com/0984787216
0
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
Peyote Woman
There is a sacred path that winds through my heart It sings God's Name as I dance ecstatically along enchanted gopi banks and over whirling, warbling brooks I marvel as a black and white checkered, red tufted woodpecker carves God's Name on a thankful tree trunk Mirabai, Kabir and Rumi wave their colorful prayer flags verses of pure love and devotion cling to the very air we breathe The Bhakti path forges unafraid through the bleak, brooding forest of desires Husky winds blow around ghostly, skeleton branches that claw helplessly at the night skies whispering valiant stories of Rama's exile and Krishna's triumph Another tree it's hoary arms outstretched resembling a cross bleeds, remembering the sacrifices and love of Jesus, The Lamb of God Trekking further into the dense unforgiving jungle seated in Lotus pose a Golden Buddha immersed in rapturous meditation opens His eyes for an instant The sun rises in the east I kneel and kiss His glorious feet Leaving the tangled woods behind suffering, godforsaken figures of homeless people sleeping alongside this good samaritan road emerge Embodiments of God spirits marred by defeat and agony stare listlessly, flies circling oblivious to the blistering desert heat I stop to share a prayer, cup of water, some fresh baked bread from my knapsack and a ray of hope The path abruptly ascends purple mountain mists crown the summit holy footprints of saints, yogis, fellow pilgrims indelibly christen and guide my steps Angels sweep the road ahead tossing rose petals and victory blossoms Om peals across the enlightened Bhakti path ...and an ancient God awakens....
0
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
The Bhakti Path
There is a sacred path that winds through my heart It sings God's Name as I dance ecstatically along enchanted gopi banks and over whirling, warbling brooks I marvel as a black and white checkered, red tufted woodpecker carves God's Name on a thankful tree trunk Mirabai, Kabir and Rumi wave their colorful prayer flags verses of pure love and devotion cling to the very air we breathe The Bhakti path forges unafraid through the bleak, brooding forest of desires Husky winds blow around ghostly, skeleton branches that claw helplessly at the night skies whispering valiant stories of Rama's exile and Krishna's triumph Another tree it's hoary arms outstretched resembling a cross bleeds, remembering the sacrifices and love of Jesus, The Lamb of God Trekking further into the dense unforgiving jungle seated in Lotus pose a Golden Buddha immersed in rapturous meditation opens His eyes for an instant The sun rises in the east I kneel and kiss His glorious feet Leaving the tangled woods behind suffering, godforsaken figures of homeless people sleeping alongside this good samaritan road emerge Embodiments of God spirits marred by defeat and agony stare listlessly, flies circling oblivious to the blistering desert heat I stop to share a prayer, cup of water, some fresh baked bread from my knapsack and a ray of hope The path abruptly ascends purple mountain mists crown the summit holy footprints of saints, yogis, fellow pilgrims indelibly christen and guide my steps Angels sweep the road ahead tossing rose petals and victory blossoms Om peals across the enlightened Bhakti path ...and an ancient God awakens....
Continue reading...
75
Hello my Dear Poet friends If you’d like a free copy of 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi. Pick up your free copy available only on June 10, 11 and 12, 2014. Download: http://amzn.com/B00IC6GL5W If you enjoy the book I would appreciate a review on Amazon. You can download one of the free Kindle apps for your web browser, desktop computer, or any mobile device you have: http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId;=1000493771
0
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:53 AM UTC
108 Bhakti Kisses free ebook
Like sun's gold rays slipping backwards into itself alone, again in cool darkness of thought my heart a flaming target put out with quiet tears and hopeless longing bleats through ember shadows still searching Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book: 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi ‪http://amzn.com/0984787216
0
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Retreat
My heart smiled no... giggled like a giddy gopi maiden all day long Last night during the star drenched nocturne hours my darling Sai Giridhari blessed me with His euphoric darshan O the scent of Sai the mandarin robed form curly mane and probing eyes clings to me like a rare perfume overpowering all sense of ego and separate identity that undiluted bliss very essence of Self Presence of God Sai Nandalala under nightfall’s luminous cape I run madly to the edge of my dreams searching for my beloved drunk on the nectar of Your Name I swoon Body, Mind and Soul into Your..................... Infinitely Waxing Embrace
0
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
Spirit Away
Krishna to Tara: Recently reincarnated, After so many millennium without you There's so many ways I want to make love to you, That one lingam is not enough, So I grow a ninety-nine more, Sprouting branches of sinew and flesh From my chest, my arms, my legs, All stretching toward you. In response, you open ninety-nine yoni Rose red lips opening like flowers in every niche. Embracing, we fit together like a puzzle piece, Once halved, once divided, once mystical Now solved. Tara to Krishna: Crazy blue man, Come to me as one lover, Not a myriad You only need one piece To fit the puzzle that is me, Complete me and I'll make you one again, And suspend the cycle Of rebirth and death But you must give up Those Gopi, those hundred and eight ***** They must find a more suitable lover To fit their station behind the cow
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
Eternal Cycle of Ascendency