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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Friday, 21 February 2014

Hey, machaa, Wake up!

@11.30, lunch time in great India.
I had wandered off into a temple,
to find truth and do "puja".

The prayer started off intense,
I stared in order to form a bond.
deep in her line of contact,
a glare ahead blurred my view.

"X marks the spot,
and persistence is the sport."
So I kept praying for my spot.

I burnt my incense,
declared what incensed,
and said;"my dear lord Mara,
I seek to love and one to love me"

I fed her, lured her,
as I chanted,
"Mara, oh Mara"

My forehead marked in tilaka,
lead my way like a chakra.
The incense in our presence was enticing,
the flowers made natural our nature.

I blew my trumpet;
the day had finally come,
then I struck the bell,
and she arrived like hell.

I offered her a seat,
showered her hands and feet,
then I offered her a drink,
chanting, "Mara, oh Mara.."

"Give me love,"
and she showered me,
I felt baptised.
I handed her flowers,

thanked her for her blessings,
and before I could offer my obeisances,
my friend big barked;
"hey, macha,Wake up!"

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