LOVE’S LABOURS GAINED

Dear Bella , when we parted you begged me to write-
And inform you all that occurs the first night.
When Frank and Emma were joined hand in hand
And allowed to perform all love can command.
But what language can tell as the wise man has said
Of the wonderful ways, of a man with a maid.
Be assured they can only be properly known
By a lecture in bed with a swain of your own.
Notwithstanding I will tell you as well as I can
The discovery I have made in the secrets of man
So that you and all common damsels may learn
How the game may be played when it comes to your turn.

When the breakfast over, the carriage and
Four well appointed and hansom drawn up to the door
We started to Brighton exactly at noon
To spend as the phrase is our sweet honeymoon.
Bright Phoebes share over the whole way
The Captain was amorous, ardent and gay
So much so indeed that although the in the carriage.
He began to indulge in the freedom of marriage.
For fear the gay rouge would have ravished ne quite
We reached our Hotel and found all things prepared.
The apartments were handsome, well furnished and aired.
And the dinner was swerved so stylish and neat.
That was really a sin not to fall and eat.
But the feast I expected a little while hence.
So engrossed every thought and extinguished and gone,
And our appetite solely engrossed in one.

Frank praised the champagnes, I thought delicious
I swore t was enough to make me still propitious
And indeed he was right for between you and me
I never felt my spirit joined and free
How the evening was spent it is useless to write.
So I knew you will skip till you read the word ‘ night’.
And are in the tip-toe of high expectations
To come to the niche, of table consummation.
Well at the end I will drop the curtain aside
And disclose all the secrets of bridegroom and bride
Detailing the whole of the process bewitching.
By which girls are cured of a troublesome itching
And men who at first impetus and rude
Are at length by weak women tamed and subdued
You remember dear Bella, how you long to discover
The joys to be found, in the arms of a lover.

And now they approached and felt in a fickle
And thought that my breast kept from my suckle
Frank saw my condition and tenderly said
“You are tired; Dear Emma, so pray go to bed.
Late hours are bane and destruction of members.
So go and I will come and watch your slumbers.”

What a sly wicked rogue! But I guessed what he meant
So covered with blushes, I obeyed and went.
I was scarcely undressed and prepared for my doom
When I heard the dear fellow glide into my room;
And as trembling I lay between transport and dread
He threw his garments and jumped into my bed.
In an instant I felt myself clasped in his arms
And as in an instant lost all my girlish alarms.
For, he soothed and gave me such kisses—
That warmed my young blood for more exquisite blisses
While his bold hands in pursuit of its game
Pressed my bosom and wandered all over my frame
And frequently trespassed, conceive my distress
Where my pen dare not write, but I am sure you guess
Declaring if man might not do as they like
The world in a short time would cease to exist.

This was allowing me time to bade me reflect
How our parents dear souls so refined and correct
Had done the same thing and indeed it was clear.
If they have not surely we would not have been here.
Moreover he said that on the morn of the day,
I had promised in church to love, honour and obey,
And the parson himself in plain extortion
Had stated that marriage and due consolation
So that those whose desire were unperturbed and friendly
Might always have something quite and handy.
Then it was plainly quite wrong to desire such distance
And thwart his desires to a petty resistance.
This reserve soon banished and love unrestricted
By fear or coyness triumphantly regained
And his wanton endearments fondly returned
Till the flame of desire irresistibly turned.
Then fondly in arms without further delay
Like a LION, he pressed eagerly his prey
And pursuing his course to the summit of friction
His strong ample lance briskly pressed for admission…

And Oh! Such a wonderful weapon his lance is!
Surprisingly far, from all our juvenile fancies;
So resistless in power, and extended in length,
That, as soon as I felt its dimension and strength,
Overcome with alarm I exclaimed with a sigh.
“Oh! For God’s sake, forbear or I am sure I will die.”
But my pains and my prayers were alike unhearded
For bent on his purpose, the supported proceeded.
But though he was armed, as I thought like a giant,
Dame nature has made us, young damsel so plaint
That expanding I yielded at every aggression
Till he acquired the completest possession.

Then I found, my dear girl, that the saying is true.
That a man and his wife are but one and not two..
For a union so close that all descriptions surpasses
And on scarce be convinced by you unwedded girls.
Deeply with the conqueror was swelling
And kindling new life in his snug like dwelling,
Whilst our limbs interwoven in prime act position
And completed the function so well termed cohesion.
The conflict now raging was ravishing quite
All my pains became pleasure and all my tears delight
Whilst the great engine of bliss in perpetual motion
Played its excellent part with skill and devotion.
That as each thrust was impressively given
I felt quite enchanted and wafted to heaven
Round his vigorous frame like a tendril I turned
While our lips in lascivious kissing were joined
And we reveled in joy till our transport at last
Reached the crisis of human’s delightful repast
When my rapturous full tide overwhelmed and oppressed
When again we pursued our connubial enjoyment
While murmur of ecstasy marked every stroke
And the bed in its creaking, our ardour bespoke
Till we soon completed the best operation
And again paid together our mutual liberation
Thus alternatively sporting and sleeping we lay
Ttill Phoebus has mounted the chariot of the day.
Five times we indulged in our amorous riot
Till our hero at length, seemed disposed to be quiet.
But to tell you the truth had he given a scour
I still would have eagerly counted more.
But prudent he thought it to observe
The maxim of keeping a crop reserve;
Without he would surely not shine with elect.
And his male friends may he was of horse-ride combat.
Still I clung round him with unquenched desire
And fanned the embers of love’s dropping fire.
Grown bold I extended my soft loving hand
And felt my dear play fellow gently expand
Till he attained the completest perfection
And proudly stood forth, in the grandest erection.

But my laughing tormentor still on his back
And said it was my hour to commence the attack.
So I mounted alone and as something drag on
I acted the part of St. George and Dragon
And managed it too with such skill and address
That it too was crowned the wishes for success.
This completed the sports of the wonderful night
And placed the last seal on the work of delight.
So we rose to perform our respective ablution,
And washed off the stains of our frequent pollutions.
But words after all can faintly reveal
The joys that in wedlock, you are destined feel;
Then loose not a moment, my dear Isabella!
But fly to the arms of some handsome young fellow
Make haste and get married as soon as you can
For life is but a blank, till enjoyed with a man.
He will quickly remove every girlish dilemma
And make you as blessed as your dear Emma…. [Anon.]

Retreat...

God created the seven seas with tears;
And time erected an edifice of anguish and grief
In love with sighs, erupting in the hearts.
Honeycombs of love turned to sweet sighs,
And glitzy dreams became embers in the ash,
That chilled us with frustration.

The sunlight faded as the night greeted darkness
With a dulcimer in hand holding close to the breast;
And sang its melody into the depth of the gloom.
Singing the strains, blooming in the cloud
Springing from love, forsaken.

What is the cause of the unhappiness in the soul;
That is hearkened by the ocean;
Diffusing its angst fizzing in the heart?
My beloved! You come back to me!
It is safe to moor in this harbour of bliss

Accomplishment!

You came to me and I found the pining of
Unrequited love in your eyes..
My sweet heart! When did we initially meet in our life?
In which birth, in which dusk of the aeons;
Where did we see each other first time, in life?

Generations walked through these streets,
Laughing and crying, kicking these earth,
Making it muddy and turbid, for a long time.
Our treads which were imprinted there, were
Covered with dust and mud, and our memories also
Submersed in it, for long, quite invisible to us.
If we forget each other for ever and our paths
Have never crossed again to meet,
What could have been our unimaginable destiny?

Our love began to bud, in our childhood days.
We kept nourishing the flame, until those ill-fated hours,
When, like a typhoon, the fate swept away
The ravishing flowers of that adoration,
Into different distant lands, and we lost touch.

Once again, if we have not met in our life,
If we have not recognized each other,
After all these years, in our transformed looks,
We should have been carrying in our hearts,
The remorseful regrets, of our unfulfilled dreams, eternally.

LIFE… An Epic.

Life is a book of epic!
Where are the pages to write the accounts?
Who gave this precious book,
And kept it open in front of the humans?
And kindled a lamp called life
For him to read at his will,
And forget himself and live?

Enjoy each sentence in this epic.
It is embedded with exultation
And delight; vibrant with passion.
And love and lust, ravished by charms.
The lamp may extinguish to day or
Tomorrow, then there will be utter darkness,
The book will be illegible and fade away.

Idiots try to write accounts in its pages.
They add and subtract continuously.
But finally, all additions and subtractions
Turns to be erroneous, and faulty….

My angel…

Tell me your tales, my sweetest bloom of love
Afloat in the lagoon of my lone heart.
Drops of sadness lurks in your lashes
Of half closed eyes as in an oyster...
Aren’t you the droplet of my dreams,
The gorgeous heroine of my still unpainted saga?
You came yesterday, as a devotee
To the hermitage of my love.

How many evening have liquefied
To brush your cheeks so pink.
Making it to blush and flush?
How much depth of bluishness from its heart,
The ocean has embellished in your eyes?
You have never known the passage of time
Of rains, of summer, of springs, and sunshine.
A fairy in sleep, underneath the canopy of Deodars
Of heaven, where the gods relax.
Whose golden chariot you are
Mounting in your thoughts?
Whose love you are seeking now, in your mind?
Your fragrance pervade around here
As the scent, of the flower in the breeze….

Your smiles…

If once you smile, the lustre of the full moon
Will brim, and overflow in my reminiscence.
If once you smile looking at me, kisses
Will cascade into my golden dreams, and my memories.
We have only one desire among us!.

The rapturous shuddering you created,
Inside of my inside, by your heart touch,
Is being recited, in my soul, persistently.
Even when you are far away from me.

Even if I reach the paradise,
The spring season, in my surrounds,
Always go with me, in my dreams.
And your countenance will always bloom there.
We have only one ardent aspiration!

You have become a serene happiness in my life
My love! My passion! My sensuality!
The morning song I chant in the dawn,
And the strain I hum in the dusk.
A shower of nectar from heaven on this earth!

Stage show.

God has incarnated as man in this world.
And volunteered to take over the grief of mankind,
In the arena of life, comprising
Days and nights, sea and shores
Of happiness and woe; tears and smiles.

Life follows the fate, the aftermath of
Previous births; transmits bitterness and
Sweetness in its wake, clad in sadness
At times, and resplendent with joy.
Drama of incarnation continues interminably.
Only the stages change, and the scenario too.

We are just onlookers, not understanding
The play, and how it evolves, or it ends.
Our tears conceal our vision, watching it.
He sleeps in the midst of the roaring ocean,
In the frightful forest, or in an atom

Man has commenced to worship religion;
And not the God, the fundamental Truth.
Now religion is God and supreme power;
Also wealth, another religion and god.
God is retreating from the stage, and
Has no part to play, anymore!

Passions!

Passion in the mind felt for one’s mate
Abruptly changes to hatred, in the mind,
With disastrous consequences!
It is like the sudden seizure of oxygen in
The air we breathe, convert the world
In the chasm, of a stand still, eternally.
Not wishing for flowers to bloom to morrow
Is factually committing suicide or homicide;
Closing the house of maternal labor,
Inducting, the finale of the human race.

They are not inclined to bear each other
Through the matrimonial link, which now
Bind them, and declare husband and wife,
Till the gates, of the cemetery.
Their wombs refuse to bear a child;
Disinterested and immune to love,
Passion, or lust, not even goodwill.

Such feelings perpetrate, to create a pyre,
To burn and annihilate the mankind;
They are not prepared to make a fire by attrition
In a sacrificial ritual and kindle it,
And sustain it without extinction,
To give out the warmth, for nurturing the posterity.

Those who safeguard that fire and flame
Turns passion, into honoured love.
They are the ones, who build the house
Of humans; for generations, yet to originate,
To live in comfort, in years to come...
How amazing is that, the last hook
In the link of passions, is bonded to love,
In the human mind, and soul;
And in its wake, a bi-product emerges - LUST!

Beyond Crossroads…

Petals of the heart hold in its hues,
The pigment of sexuality.
Scriptures, Vedas, myths, and epics, in
Every culture depicts these stories.
And history never fails to reiterate them.
Imprinted in human mind, these stories
Reappear and the heroes and heroines are the same.
Except the differences through cultures,
Names differs, attire differs and scenario too.
Also songs; we call them: love songs, duets,
Melodies, pops, or even soft blues.

Man cannot exist on his own; neither woman.
He is, and she also lives in the shadows of a thought
Enveloped in sexuality, through fascination,
Adoration, passion, lasciviousness, co-habitation,
Or even matrimony; then procreation, to fill the vacuum
In his or her existence, to make it perfect.
This want is towering in the mind as
A craving of the soul, to find its own mate;
A thirst for finding the better half or the other half
A longing, to discover the missing hemisphere.

Ruminating over one’s self, the presence
Of a woman, invade the subconscious.
As,in the mind of a woman too.
It develops into a hypothesis.
Deep inside, someone calls or cries,
From the cave’s mouth of the body.
Who calls?
The call of the other half, reverberates in the marrows,
In the mind, in the sinews, in the desires,
And makes a duality; a unison, in one’s being.
And pine for a support from the other half
To continue the existence…

Lost Horizons…

Born somewhere, die somewhere, live somewhere…
Days and nights pass by carrying heavy
Loads of life’s miseries, on the shoulders,
Limping, and staggering, like a lame duck,
We are scapegoats of our destiny.

Where did this journey commence?
From a point in eternity, or endless time?
Where do we get a rest in this illimitable journey?
Our desires cease to exist with the last breath.
All human relations terminate at the grave yard.
Who placed a counterfeit coin in the purse of the heart?
Called dreams, besmirched with distress.

Friends who shun you; or the society
Longing to cast stones at you?
Those flowers, withered and diffused in the earth,
As dead ones, whose treads they have imprinted
In this soil, will certainly return one day,
After having changed their soiled attire,
From their chambers, in Hades.
Like the sun returns to the sky, after the eclipse.

Conservation

…


Does anything in this earth, ever perish?
And disappear into nothingness and void?
A leaf, a life, a flower, a song, a rainbow!

A tree, a leaf, or a flower, when it withers
The good earth receives it with pleasure.
It dissolves with the mud, in its source.
The roots take away the substances,
And bring them back to life.
The remnants of a human being disintegrate and
Unite with the five elements which composed it.

The whole earth is a grand grave yard,
For withered, battered, and dead lives;
Buried and hidden in its cavernous womb;
Over millenniums, ever procreating
From the debris of accumulated fragments,
In another shape; tubers, cereals, fruits, crops,
And food for whatever we eat as flesh,
To complete the cycle of life, in the universe.
Even the scattered ash over water
Comes back as salt from the sea in our food.

Nothing can be severed from anything eternally.
That proclivity exists in everything, animate or
Inanimate, similar to proton-neutron relation.
That is human bondage, nature’s bondage!

Vainglory!

Movement…Progress…Motion!
They are the dictums of evolution
For human life! A maxim.
The sages who wrote scriptures and epics,
Envisaged life, as vanity, and illusion.
Man who created this era says life is truth.
What we see and comprehend is truth and reality...
Dreams have a path, of its own
Truth has its different path.
And Time blindfolds both and flow in its own way.
Where do they confluence?
Any place they commence flowing together as one?
May be in heaven, where everything is real!
Is life a myth or reality?
A reality existing for a short moment,
On the scale, of the boundless time.

Once it is over what is left out?
Wealth?
Memory?
Prestige?
Reputation?
Glory?

None of these has eternal values!
Hence sages of old times recited about
The emptiness, unintelligibility,
Futility and hollowness of life
In their writings, for the posterity.
Yet, man is still running after vainglory!

Yester night…

In the middle of a sullen night
The memory of yester night
Vanquished, the avid soul.
And the singing heart is asking me
The scenario and the screen play!
You came as a shimmering glimmer
Of a resplendent cloud, in my dream...
Some reveries, to pour nectar into my spirit.
When you roam, in my reveries, heaven arise
And stoop down to earth, with presents
Of bouquets of blossoms, brought from
A vanished spring, seasons behind.
Like the virtue of my sacred deeds in life;
Intimate moments, churns out ripples in the thoughts,
Chalice of the heart brims with sweetness.
Cloying spring was visible in the dreamy eyelids,
Where, swooned fantasies dangled, quivering.

Those days when love sprouted in our hearts
We forgot ourselves in the frenzy,
We could not contain inside us,
The unreconciled, youngish vigour.
There was only one horizon for us; our desires!
If once you smile, it becomes showers of kisses
In my reminiscence, and in my dreams.
And we share together one passion,
One desire, one aspiration,
And only one ambition…

Again…

I never knew, you will awake as a new interlude
Again, in my symphony.
You will blossom, as a strain
Of melody, in my heart.
You will fill my mind as
A cloying residue of my memory...
You will flutter and flurry,
As my precious possession in life…

I never knew, the glowing embers
Of my soul will ever extinguish
One day, with your presence;
You will fondle me with your
Chilling feather touch;
You will, with your assuages
Lull me into a slumber.
And become, my priceless treasure.

I never knew, you will emit your
Glow as the glimmer of the full moon,
And my passion will flower.
I and you will deliquesce as one...
You will become mine and mine alone!

Uncertainty…

This night, these melodies, these festivities,
My angel!, will vanish into thin air..
The dreams we fondle today, will yield to harsh realities.
The mirth we hold on our lips, will fade to whimpers.

It is perfect while it lasts, ecstatic, sweet, and passionate.
Every moment a celebration!
Every night an odyssey, through the shores of
Lascivious pleasures and passions.
Every morning, filled with remembrances
Of plays, enacted in our bedchamber;
Of romantic ardours, sending shock waves
All through the senses, springing sensations;
Soul stirring, bewitching…

Here, in this night, when waves of every vital tissues
Are seeking its mate, for its unison,
This lake immersed in modesty, writes it stories
In poems, in the moonlight, with its toe nails.
Do we have any more secrets between us,
Left out to be narrated, of our amatory tales?

In here the fascinating flowers are blooming,
To weave a veil of moonlight to cover the nakedness
Of the virgin earth, in embrace with the nature,
Do we have any more emotions left out in us
To exchange, at this hour, before I leave you?

Melody!

Why did you call me again, fragrance of my dreams?
Roving through the seven seas and the seven mountains,
Without knowing your destination.
In the middle of impenetrable darkness,
In my half slumber, I heard the music
Of your love, calling me…
Why did you call me?

In the hub of the spring, while I was sleeping
Drained and sapped, and my flute also, having
Lost its entire cadence,
While the life force in me, was juddering
I heard your music of love calling me
From afar; why did you call me?

The tender soft melody clothed me in exultation,
And its incandescence, dancing in my spirit in glee;
I forgot myself, when the sweet melody, awakened me
And I fell into a languid knock-out, inside my soul?

GOD is LOVE…

Who is God? Is he a Hindu, Christian, or an Islam?
Is he Jehovah, Jupiter, or an E.T.? None of them!

You who preach the almighty God!
Are not you the white washed sepulchers?
The wolves in the attire of lambs, in your crimson robes;
Ready to devour the innocent populace
Hearkening to your Babel of scriptures,
And grappling them into your lairs?

You build churches and mosques,
Temples and hermitages, and monasteries,
For morons to learn, who God is .
Pilgrim spots in mountain heights and forests,
To guide the simpletons, through those paths of,
Inaccessible and impenetrable terrains,
For awarding them, ‘salvation’ or ‘moksha’ of the Soul.

You make a thousand disparate masks for God;
Images in wood and granite,
Moon stones and marbles,
Ivory and gold, and ornate them
With plundered gold, and gems.

You deceived Krishna, Christ and Buddha;
You deluded Mohammad, and Marx;
You charade as Godmen and preach
Incomprehensible words and scriptures,
To make them more complicated, with your interpretations.
You are the darkest nights, after the vermillion evenings.
Camouflaging the true God, in your glum,
With your scriptures, all the time.
And never realizing that He is inside
Your heart, in the form of LOVE!