"namo" poems
I am a voluntary propagandist.
Run I did a strong campaign.
An enduring campaign for NaMo.
My Facebook pages are successful.
And I feel like a shadow warrior.
I don't need any prize for my efforts.
Mōđī Jī remaining in charge of India's golden future.
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 2:17 PM UTC
Seductive recitatives...
pour ardor for Culture--
tssst...tsssst...tssssst...
Graff...
Basquiat buffed...
Basquiat up...
lone...namo Samo...
Samo namo...bare bone.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
English
I wake up
I bath
I work
I finish
I go home
I sleep
I repeat
French
je me réveille
je prends un bain
je travaille
je termine
je rentre à la maison
je dors
je répète
Yoruba
Mo ji
Mo wẹ
Mo sise
Mo pari
Mo lọ si ile
Mo sun
Mo tun ṣe
Arabic
استيقظت
أنا حمام
أعمل
أنهيت
أنا أذهب للمنزل
انام
أكرر
Japanese
Watashi wa
mewosamasu
watashi no basu
watashi wa hataraku
watashi wa oeru
watashi wa ienikaeru neru
watashi wa kurikaesu
Latin
Ego surgere
et bath
laboro
ego consummare
i Vade in domum tuam
ego dormio
ego iterare
Lithuanian
aš atsikeliu
Aš maudytis
Aš dirbu
aš baigiu
aš einu namo
aš miegu
aš kartoju
Rex Verum Regem
TFK
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Last sunday, we go videoke.
Kaming unom, grabe'g panganta.
Naay nice ug tingog, naay okay ra,
naay wala gyud sa tono, naay nag sabay-sabay ra,
ug naay feeler gyud kaayo nga singer siya.
Niabot ang time, naka feel na mig uhaw.
Ni offer ang isa, isa ka bucket ambot ug unsa.
TOK TOK TOK ayay naa na ang gihulat,
tambal sa uhaw gipatong sa lamesa.
PAK! SMIRNOFF ANG GIDALA!
Kami nagpadayon ug kanta,
kachada sa pamati, sa ilimnong ma'lami.
Niabot ang last nga kanta,
Obladi, Oblada, tala na mamauli na ta.
Nihapit's balutan, mao na po'y gitirada.
Nanglingkod kadjot sa seawall,
nagpahangin gamay usa musakay.
Nipara mig cab kay hapit na alas dose,
sa rural basin mabiyaan mi.
Wa na gibyaan gyud, maygani naay super 5, pero tag 50 gyud.
Kami naabot sa tagsa-tagsang panimalay,
wow kalami sa akuang katulog bai.
Pagmata nako, nganong init kaayo ko?
Wa ko kasabot sa akuang gibati, gitugnaw ko pag ayo.
Yati, ngano man ni? Nag inom man unta kog vitamin C.
Pagka uran2 naa koy gi share sa fb,
nag react akuang miga kay sgalain pud daw iya ginhawa.
Taod-taod nag my day ang isa, gi dextrose kay gihilantan sab siya.
Nag text kos isa pa, kung ga daot pud siya.
"OO" mao na iyang reply,
*** why kami gyud upat dai?
Ang isa silingan ra namo, wala may gibati.
So, isa nalang kulang, akua gitawagan.
Wala mitubag, akuang manghod iyang gi chatan.
"Yes dai gihilantan pud siya", mao nay reply.
Wala nay lain, ang SMIRNOFF mao jud akuang pasanginlan!
Kaming lima baling yarok, sa smirnoff nga mabugnaw.
Ang isa wala nag mind kay nagsaad di gyud siya mo inom.
Mao toy amuang gidangatan, gipang ubo, sip'on ug gihilantan.
Grabe, unsay naa adtong smirnoff nila?
Ngano kaming lima ang naapektohan?
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 9:20 PM UTC
Papa ka office se ghara aana
Bhag kar unke pass jana
unke samne masumiyat se apne hath ko failana
yad karte ** n, jara soch kar batana
Dosto ko roj naye ajib-ajib namo se chidhana
Bhai-Bahan ko bina bt satana
School na jane ka roj naya bahana
Chupke se dusro ka lunch box kha jana
yad karte ** n, jara soch kar batana
Andhere se darkar maa ki aanchal me chup jana
Papa ki kandho par baithkar mele me jana
Khilono ke liye jid P arr jaana
Choti choti galtiyon par maa ka thapki lagna
Yad karte ** n, soch kar batana
Na tension thi duniya ki,
na tha paisa kamana
Kya the bachpan ke bhi din
jaisa mano Sare khushiyo ka fasana
Yad karte ** na, jara soch kar batana
May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 3:59 AM UTC
There are more poems inside me, but I intuit it is longer fair to impose on you by sharing more. The deep seeded infection of my spirit waxes and wanes, and there is no antidote, and unlike the virus itself, there never will be, a future cure, an inexpensive replacement cost for the spirit spent, the time and futures spirited away.
Perhaps you recall I was one mile away from Ground Zero on September 11th. Rarely do I walk there.
The coronavirus poetry inserts itself unaided, never asking permission, a like minded, but a contra-cousin to the coronavirus.
I live in New York City, the epicenter where now, close to 800 die daily.
Normally, about 25 bodies a week are interred on Hart island, mostly for people whose families can't afford a funeral, or who go unclaimed by relatives. In recent days, though, burial operations have increased from one day a week to five days a week, with around 24 burials each day.^^
Each dies with no last words, no Kaddish recited, Last Rites, too late, no Ṣalāt al-Janāzah or Om Namo Narayanaya. Each one, a numbered pine coffin, and each one will have at the very least, a poem of their own, so help me god.
Buried side by side in large trench, room plenty for new arrivals,
I hear the banging, protesting, resisting, this is not the way, I was promised, my ears left pounding! Hillel, the great scholar in this dream, reminds that “the time is short, and the work is great.”
He paraphrases, though, “the bodies many, the poems too few.”
There ain’t no anonymity in heaven, but I’ll reconfirm that with you later.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 10:48 AM UTC
Moon falls behind hills
solitary shadows
autumn wind
silence
bits of stars
vague and remote
walking amongst
ancient trees
in a courtyard
in the depths
of a temple
the flicker of lamps
the saffron of robes
the sound of wooden fish
the sound of Namo Amitabha is
peace
quiet like a flower, a grass
a wind, a rain
a sand, a stone
a dream, a season.
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 10:33 PM UTC
Traffic is really not such a bad thing.
It gives me a chance to think,
to practice chants,
to introspect about anger
& see how stupid people look
when they express it.
Imagine yelling & giving somebody
the middle finger
because you missed a light,
might be 10 minutes late to dinner.
This guy better get off my tail.
Om namo
guru dev
namo!
Om namo
guru dev
namo!
On namo
guru dev
namo!
I feel better now.....
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Palanga - labai gražus miestas
Čia yra ir Basanavičiaus gatvė, ir jūra, ir molas
O vakarais Saulė skandina save nuogą
O minios tik spokso į gamtos pasirodymą
O aš verkiu parkely
Akys pilnos dūmo aštraus
Tačiau jis sklaidosi ir man reikia cigarečių
Man reikia žmogaus, kas priglaus
Pirštai begėdžiai bėga ekranu
Sustoja ties tavimi
Paauglės verksmas užėjo
Tad rašau, kad plyštu per vidurį
O tu, mėnuli, kažkodėl susirūpinai tada
Atėjai šiek tiek balta
Patraukėm link jūros tada
Kaip garvežys, nors vėžys jau buvo plaučiuose
Jis plėtėsi, šildė širdį
Leido kaprizams mirti
Tačiau žudė mane kartu
Suvokiau - patraukti akių negaliu
Smėlis, jau seniai atšalęs, virkdė žvaigždes
Ašaros dangaus skliautu riedėjo
Juokiausi aš, juokeisi tu
Ir staiga - saldi tyla atėjo
Šalta ranka nepaleido ilgam
Vedė link namo vis apsukdama
"Vienas vyno butelys" - tarei lengvai eidama
Buvo mano nemenka kaina
Palanga - labai gražus miestas
Norėčiau čia sugrįžti kažkada
Čia yra ir Basanavičiaus gatvė, ir jūra, ir molas
Ir meilė mano paslėpta
Sep 20, 2021
Sep 20, 2021 at 3:59 PM UTC
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!'
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC