I was young
just out from college
saw the horizon wide-eyed
calling me to talk to her
the language of my dreams
asking me to tear the pages
of my A for apple C for cat
gulped a bottle of cough syrup
and hopped on a bus to Gokarna.
Gorkana was real
throbbing her heartbeats
of many temples
around a huge Shiva temple
a bunch of fishermen
with their nets spread out
eyes squint against
the burning sun
as the sea waves drank
the lips of paradise beach.
I was stoned
when I met a hippy couple
that girl a bomb of a beauty
lifted the lid of my core desire
later that night
with the scent of patschoulli incence
lingering in my little room I wanked
I heard the chantings
and clinging of bells that
entered thru my windows.
The next few days
contemplating on Tagore
I slept on the beach alone
some Isreali and french women
came and went
for hendrix and some spliff.
It is always an indeed pleasure to read such splendid real work such as this one. This is well written and adqaute in everyway. Thanks for sharing this with us all here on the Den.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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Peace,
Joselyn
in lazy afternoons filled with puffs
of smoke
and waves....
sounds like a beautiful time
great share!!!
this is a cool write
like a diary
pax A