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Lovely Lap

Vavroovahana patra
River valley beneath the palm trees
glows with funeral pyre.
Hymns reverberates the air
with the marital fire.
The soul searches ‘Lord Siva’s realm;
The bride ties the bride groom’s palm.
She smiles on the altar,
Lustrous radiant silvery face glitters.
Conjugal life blooms with desire;
Like the morning sun’s fire.
Eternal love is pregnant with dream.
Like the blow of a wood land stream.
Lovers find love
as devotees pray God.
Its as to ‘Siva linga’ an offering of
Garland of champak and from him desire a perennial
brook of nectar to flood.
Bridal songs and cradle songs
Have cadences of sorrow;

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poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Lord’s Feet Vavroovahana Patra

Lord Jagannath’s temple is beautiful;
Lovely devotees are delightful.
Lady devotees chant hymns delightfully;
Love reigns on the shrine, devotees dance gaily.

Light on the shrine illuminate the altar;
Lord Jagannath contents devotee’s desire.
Life is surrendered on the feet of Almighty;
Little guys and girls roam with gaiety.

Luminous face of God attracts the devotee;
Lovely devotees surrender on Lotus feet with delight.
Lily smiles on the altar;
Lake of love tranquilises devotees, contents desire.

Lad prays God for prosperity;
Lady prays for a pure conjugal life gaudily.
Land of love entices all devotees;
Lives enchant with delight.

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poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Conjugal Love Vavroovahana Patra

Woman’s love is wondrous;
With congratulation contents comrades’ desires.
Wonderful embracement enhances passion;
Wondrous creature allures lover’s attraction.

Wife’s Kiss provides peace;
Worries evaporate with her sweet wish.
Weekly holiday with wife brings pleasure;
world smiles with conjugal love with pleasure.

Wise woman shows right path;
Woman’s beauty is a brook of mirth.
Weary husband enchants with embracement;
Warmth of love provides rays of merriment.

Worshipping God couple derive delight;
Way to peace becomes cosy chanting hymns with gaiety.
Work of woman with sacrifice dazzles in history;
Woman’s chastity is endowed with purity.

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poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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A Hug

Biology invigorated by Chemistry and empowered by Geography
infuses us with a plethora of poignant sensations, embraced by
the velvet of tenderness and clasped in the arms of monogamy.
My heart is made of metal and yours, my virtuous bride, of magnet.
Evocative and provocative energy enmeshes our nostalgia.
Conjugal ripples from the surface of our skin rush through our veins
into our deepest depths until reciprocal osmosis becomes orgasmic.

The wind is tired of its futile attempts to get between us.
You are the gloves on my hands and the paint on my wall.
Squeezing and teasing, huddling and cuddling, unifying and satisfying-
tangled together in the tranquil tapestry of inseparability.
I have captured the warmth of the sun and the romance of the moon,
and gift wrapped them with my own sweat and tears just for you.
Drip drop, drip drop, until you are enveloped in the ocean of my love.

poem by Howard Simon
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The Centenarians

I asked of ancient gaffers three
The way of their ripe living,
And this is what they told to me
Without Misgiving.

The First: 'The why I've lived so long,
To my fond recollection
Is that for women, wine and song
I've had a predilection.
Full many a bawdy stave I've sung
With wenches of my choosing,
But of the joys that kept me young
The best was boozing.'

The Second: 'I'm a sage revered
Because I was a fool
And with the bourgeon of my beard
I kept my ardour cool.
On health I have conserved my hold
By never dissipating:

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poem by Robert William Service
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Words

The world does not need words. It articulates itself
in sunlight, leaves, and shadows. The stones on the path
are no less real for lying uncatalogued and uncounted.
The fluent leaves speak only the dialect of pure being.
The kiss is still fully itself though no words were spoken.

And one word transforms it into something less or other--
illicit, chaste, perfunctory, conjugal, covert.
Even calling it a kiss betrays the fluster of hands
glancing the skin or gripping a shoulder, the slow
arching of neck or knee, the silent touching of tongues.

Yet the stones remain less real to those who cannot
name them, or read the mute syllables graven in silica.
To see a red stone is less than seeing it as jasper--
metamorphic quartz, cousin to the flint the Kiowa
carved as arrowheads. To name is to know and remember.

The sunlight needs no praise piercing the rainclouds,
painting the rocks and leaves with light, then dissolving

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poem by Dana Gioia
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Live-In Relation Leads To Solation

The courtship serves that they know each other.
The marriage entails living together.
Marriages fail from successful courtships.
Living together cuts space for movements.

Divorce is a cumbersome exercise.
Sometimes, pounds of flesh are extracted.
To circumvent the divorce from marriage,
Live-in relationships have been brought in.

In live-in relation, man and woman
Live together, having conjugal love,
And beget children with all sanctity.
It may or not lead to marriage later.

In certain cases, living-in is had
As a stop gap arrangement for marriage,
Living-in is as good as a married life.
It can serve being a good test drive test.

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poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The curate had the grace to blush

The young curate grew quite harassed
discussing sexuality.
Because he was so embarrased
Although he tried quite doggedly.

When questioned on conjugal rights.
By a young lady to be wed
He tried to be so definite
of duties which pertained to bed.

He stated blithely that a man
had appetites he must fulfil
What rights she asked, had the woman?
The question was beyond his skill.

He only knew what he’d been taught.
Naïve and inexperienced
He did not have a stock retort
and what he said made little sense.

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Baby, the Divine Form

Behold the effulgent form of divinity
in the soft figure of a child,
which is endowed with pure,
white and beautiful teeth.

Verily in the mortal world,
the child forms heavenly bliss,
the fruit of conjugal figures.
In the lucid river of child’s body,
overflows the cheerfulness
of lovely love-creepers.

Sweet smile of the child is splendid
having indistinct utterance of syllables
and so an object of ever-remembrance.
In the lovely lips shine delicacy and lucidity.

Sarasvati, the Goddess of Speech,
spreads her nectareous jingling,
graceful, faultless and rich.

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poem by Harekrishna Meher
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A Jar Of Peanut Butter

You, Me, And A Jar of Peanut Butter
Friday, April 10,2009

Barren landscape spread shore to shore
Passages opened an unspoiled door
Covered now fertile grounds with peanut butter
Succulent tender treat sounds you now mutter

Cries delight the more you utter
Crazy I know but do I stutter?
Warm yet juicy passion’s pink
Youthful fountains from hence I drink

Dinning on fruits garnished sweet little kitten
Taste no haste love bug now I’ve been bitten
Speaking words I’ve never heard
Singing softly the mocking bird

Peaches delight and O’ so eatable
Quite the storm you are so incredible

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poem by Wilfred Mellers
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