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Image for the poem our sacred love

our sacred love's labour... suffuses ev in 'flesh and sky' eternally live dreamery music-al  (a 'Robuma' fusion)

 


 
1.  
[ spirals into the spiritual core, her beats & breaths:  N a t u r e ]
 
 
 
Saraswati presses jukebox selections  
With whitish sea bird feathers  
Plucked from flightless hamsa:  
Stormrushed plumes scatter as flumes  
Oscillating wildly o’er rocking ravines.
 
 
 
eye butterflies flutter heartbeats…awaken deep inner in rippling benthos  
touchblooms these wide open night red lotusy lipping dewy succulence…..  
  
    ….in the Aum Hum Aum Hum cosmic resonance … the  dream-laden  
wavy oaring lashes heave breaths amidst gushing springs of lachrymal milk..  
dripping in tip-lip sonorous metallics over our crowning conch…. in origins  
 
of the sacred Gangai.. neck-lacing Raja Nagam, the Black Cobra King hisses  
its hard-coalescing diamond throated blessings …. coming in full erasure  
updations..  
   
of its bitter-chipped inherent violencing animosities,  (in historically hysterically  
spewed chaos in an inchoately panicky mindless rage, their venomous emetic  
imbroglios… are now just the torn and digested memories in deep digging  
spades of burial, a steely disposal)
 
 
 
hymns of each Now sings Mawsynram rains, the piercing teertha are  
trishul sprinklets of an auspicious brahmamuhurtha …transforms inner  
screeching jantu creatures- the hungry circling aghori Lhasa vultures… and  
but  
 
emerges the One: Vishnu’s  Garuda with a marked holy ashen  
white-necked ring.. in majestic circling still… swooshes in gliding tides  
of our ageless atmospheres....whirrs whirls the centric holing  vacuum  
of Our souling seeding Nothingness… of The  
 
Essential Abstractions…
unravelling  “Chidambara Rahasyam”-  
the Cosmic Secret ..of its sacred reigning eternity.  i n  
 
t h e
  creative   destruction  
 
 
Literary terrorists  
Shell-shocked from pounded beaches.  
Minimalist militia detonate chapters  
In the chapel of landmine minds,  
Forgive the papyrus priests -  
For they have sinned.  
Explosive word-bombs  
Between our legs.  
Bouquets of barbed verse  
Lay at tome of unknown writer.  
Emotional air raids exhaust the heart:  
Listen in silence to colour sounds  
Winter sun resonates louder than bombs  
Mouths of guns shredded in cerulean skies.  
This is our war  
Stasi stanzas  
At the font of humanity.
 
 
gasping horses of our riding high...  
transcends in no exhaustion.. but  
milking frothy smooth newness trails ...  
raw is the war, the deaths the cyclical chaos  
still, a strange beauteous stillness stitches  
in the switches of birth~deaths...a raw deal  
in our ever-renewal... metaphorics  
~euphorics ~melancholics ~histrionics..  
 knead us to invisibly infinite   in the  
acceleration we heavenly manifest
 
 
 
 
2.  
<< our spirited sizzly sunbirds of freedom >>
 
 
 
Lie down beside me  
Let song lap o’er  
Wine broidered bodies  
Embroiled in sensual limb lock:
 
 
 
...let's harness the discretely photonic particulate fireflies  
to the streaming in infiniti of molten radiations -  casting  
in uproarious tempos  of our flaming high soul lanterns:  
 
the first and forever light(ness) crop of our freeform bird love:  
   
“the spirited passerine bulbul pair weave their life's orbiting flight  
passages.... in an intricate venn diagram of great overlappance…  
with Our unsplit unconditional love ....  bunching fibrously firm  
spinnaretting gratitudes from  their hearty reminiscing pages...  
of Us, once saving & nourshing their early days  
 
chanting slokas…. around the equanimously fusing deity Us  
in ritualistic mantric circumference …and ahh how they nestle its progenies    
in our heartland’s lubb dub lubb dub lap...is pure rhythms of Love's Faith  
 
…shelters in our Love's warmth..the Us in artistic Konark-ing Angorwat’s  
entwining kamasutras...- fragrant fantaish are the sevvanthi garlands  
marrying our soulskins in the garba griha with its dimlit core conclave  
seemingly a lost beauty's relic mandapam…  in an– undatedly meditating  
Kumari Kandam’s  gnana dhyana ~gnanodhaya stillness awakening in  
calming wisdom… resurfaces bubbling atop in subtle clues from its inner  
Agni’s magmatic liquescing reverie... opening up tip-tap click-cluck to its  
zilliontiny bursting baby summer suns dancing above.. ”  
 
 
 
3.  
 [ peacocks of raining ecstasy, in a wildly aligning symphony ]
 
 
 
The dancer!  
Behold the dancers  
Bejewelled in peach juice  
Flamed by discotheque lights.  
Sacred are Polyhymnia hymns  
Whorled in chiton summer, along  
Groaning Hippodrome rubble -  
From beyond the sun  
& ruffle of moon feather.  
 
As it is – as it will be:  
Mammoth flute soothes Cro-Magnon child  
Mozart’s mother weeps still,  
Shall she, while singing, hear his    
Never played symphonies.  
 
Glam rock Gutter pop,  
Visage of (Neo) Romantics in fancy dress  
Mascara massacre on  
Fancy dress dancefloor,  
Bar room brawl of vocal bullets  
Singer they never call Steven  
Shoots from swing of hips  
Playing Rusholme roulette  
With each chamber loaded.  
He knows very well  
How he got his name.
 
 
 
MMagical... are the orchestral syncretic syntagma in versing choirs  
of the legendary Moz~Maestro..  in an impossibly fusing combo  
 
( roils out in deathly moults...of all those so long boldened aloud  
stinking gibberishly imbrued inner petrified carcasses… of greyey  
shades to shadowy ghosts in filthy minded putrid meanderings… )
 
 
unleashes wild pitching epic in a tribal drumming....  in a jishh joshhhh  
equatorial-rainforestly lashing out magnanimous absolution bonanzas...  
 
( such divinely thrown-out evasive velocities ..are those stuckhard long, the  
thoroughfaring vagabond veneries ...  to a point of no return destiny…. )
 
 
their anointing musical paravasa moksha.... synchronizes  
Our predisposed heartmindbodysoul in One align .. their  
beats are Our each Now breathing heat...  incinerates even  
traces of karmic dirts in erraneously chancing adherence
 
 
 
 
4.  
(( there's no|.| pause|..|stop dark spots in our amberine ablaze daze sun-in-singsong ))
 
 
 
A 1987 cassette spools,  
Tale of fools I became  
As stalled plane looking for somewhere to land -  
Hunkering inside a drifting submarine    
Awaiting, gasping, for Titanic 2  
Where the band doesn’t play on:  
 ^STOP^ /PLAY/
 
 
 
eating up the suns in an eerie silence  
until the dramatic twilights, shrilly crickets  
now scream in elegiac violence  
..knifing barbaric as lethally virile warfare  
from the submissively shaken earthen core  
to the darkly-dyeing dying defeated skies  
through the unabashedly encroached ears  
as meremediating nonetheless as unbiasedly  
responsive vascular receptacles…. in bloody  
rupture, the leachates in inglorious  
disruption of its overly coiling tentacular  
cochlears... in genuinely reaching  
genuflections of its innate  
innocence in poetic silence  
 
fusing musical hearts of our  
reinforcing love verses as rebirthed  
cycads with spatial flagellates  
 in sacred cryptic inscriptions  
 ..their let loose fibrous base are the  
rising tidal threads of our molten seas  
lighted in  flaming soulsuns  
tear the logjammed blockades  
of  the maya- a darkened hopelessness...  
in releasing olympic rhythmic flaring  
strides of red revolutionary warriors..  
...un-bursting in a steely resolve  
 ablaze as core composure
 
 
 
 
5.  
\\ from legends we love to even devils within, all conspire unto our marigolden Love //
 
 
 
Let our love sing up for itself  
To backbeat of band, banned by Spotify -  
^Bruce Lee on drums  
Pasolini on piano  
Dead cool Monroe  
Lip-synching JFK kisses^  
 
When you return to the shore  
Be sure to turn tides into pillows  
Leave astride my bedroom door.  
Sail billowed songs along lustre lips.  
 
We come from the sand  
Granite bone on pebbled edges,  
Should the waters ever remember?  
 
Terpsichore stands by our side  
Dancing with her daughters, The Sirens,  
Backed by girl power of fifty  
Husky stilettoed ‘The Nereids.’  
We turn volume to mute &  
Twist driftwood into effigies –  
Some say we got devil.
 
 
 
the devil in details… are the  
oozing drowsy smokiness ambience  
of our midnight’s powerloom chugging  
incessant backdrop notes in an endless  
exploring traverse across melodiously  
drunken milken~jasminous dreamscapes  
…muskened husky voices melding in  
inseparably harmonious overtones  
of our married fundamental notes
 
 
 
Our timbre could change  
Colour though all seasons,  
The theatre and its double  
The world, we enter the wings  
Circle the backdrop of a new play-  
Peel the plastic from microphone  
And simply…sing and listen  
To the thrum of two hearts.
 
 
 
   
liberational    e c s t a s y ,   this  
 
    [i]lub dub~ aum hum [i]  
 
 transcendence  in     l o v e
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
https://youtu.be/spq5RJXORW0
 
 
 
Written by summultima (uma)
Published | Edited 6th Jan 2020
Author's Note
feels wordless breathless... this Us, suffuses
ever as life~love~music~poetry~all~nil~
 gratitudes of this soul-in-fusion- ev
    with you, Rob my All,.this our
Love ..in breaths of music & verses & more...
    are forevermore..My Moz My Maestro...  

  thank you DU , thankyou adorable loved poets here
   who are in eternal soulful bonds of love with Us ev...
Ahavati, Daniel, Layla,Soulderatease, AeMelia, Eamonn, Case, Magdalena, Takis, fields_broke, jeff, brando, Van, LokiofLiterati, buddhakitty.. all new & old poets who art heart from soul xx:)



Pic: dedicated to Us Robuma, To Maestro Ilayaraja, the living legendary music composer of tamil films...

Song link: One of Maestro' s best musical hits from 1995, scored sung by himself
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