Padma

These are new revelations,
Olde, abandoned diamond mines
W/ new expectations

Drums strike! Trumpets blare! Cymbals crash!
And voices, exquisitely raised, reach Palaces on high

Nev’r mind the smoldering cinders
Of a once great love / Now, hopelessly lost

Nev’r mind those Mongers of War
W/ too much sand and blood on their hands

Nev’r mind the dry river beds
Nev’r mind those crys from the waste land

Nev’r mind the bollocks!

Nev’r mind those derogatory scenes –
Miss Knox arriving at the Duke’s Ball

Miss Knox wrestling w/ gravity’s angel
(En order 2 stand tall)

Nev’r mind her suffragette jargon
Nev’r mind her manifesto
Brimming w/ all that self-delusion
And all those lies
(Catching her Papa by surprise)

Why so much drool on the chin?
Why so many slaps 2 the face?

Hark the Junky (still counting his scars)
Your contusions,
Not your charms, make the case, Belle.
Rubbish en / Rubbish out!

Nev’r mind the Tyrant’s executive decrees –
His tyranny, like all dross, will fall away
When the folk awake, breaking his spell,
And demand 2 be free

Dontcha do it
Dontcha dare

Dontcha dare
Journey from that immovable spot!

Not when she’s so close
Not when she’s there

Padma walking along the Ganges en Benares
Pigtails en her hair

Mind her rice bowl (nev’r empty)
Mind her breast (always fill’d w/ light)

Mind her dark skin, the skin of the fair-est
Mind her dark eyes (how they illumine the skye at the nite)

Mind the orange ripples of her bridal sari
Mind the prāna
Mind the flow

Mind how the winds gather around her ankles
(How they billow, how they blow)

Mind how she dances
Mind how she sings

Mind the ghanta
Mind its toll and how it beckons the devas when it rings

Again,
Nev’r mind the bollocks!

Mind Padma walking along the Ganges

She knows
She knows
She knows

The song
Is the thing

©LogosVox 2014

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