When Hera Spurted Out her Milk

When Hera Spurted Out her Milk

When Hera spurted out her milk,
did others realize
that going shopping too, one day,
could make a mortal wise?

While walking to the supermarket,
I found I'd lost my way.
But then I realized I'd strayed
beyond the Milky Way.

And so, I found nirvana in
a borough of New York,
beside an arrow sign that said,
"The Home of Kosher Pork".

Ah wonders, that, in wandering,
we sometimes stumble on!
But when I went next day, that sign
and store were vanished—gone!

And then, recalling how I'd been
suspended, out in space,
beyond our starry whorl, I knew
I'd landed on my face.

Oh Zeus, and your green-eyed wife,
with spurting mammaries!
How strange, that we and all were born
from household rivalries!

******

But wait! A fellow told me, who
has doctorates and more,
that truth is stranger, far, than all
we dolts were told before.

So you and all your kin are myths,
Jehovah-Allah too!
The devas and asuras are
an ill-imagined crew.

And verily, the truth is such
as Arjuna could not
conceive, though he beheld, in awe,
what humans have forgot.

So in that mouth immense, wherein
this universe was swallowed,
there were such things that mortals such
as we could not have followed.

As Krishna sat beside him,
being a devil-god indeed,
Arjuna then was bent, in awe,
to do the dreadful deed.

So drawing out his arrow from
its quiver then he drew
his bow, as horses galloped towards
the kinsmen that he slew.

******

So then, resolving to return
to this, the world that's plain,
I turned towards my home again,
with something to explain.

"So where's that kosher ham?" she said.
"There's a sandwich I must make."
But all I then could do was stand
and in my innards shake.

2016 November 6th, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York
-------------------------------------------------
  
For the reference to Hera and her milk, please see
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milky_Way_(mythology)
and look under "Greek and Roman". This describes a Greek myth about the origin of our galaxy.
     
For the reference to Arjuna and his vision of the true nature of his charioteer, the god Krishna, please see:  
http://www.thenazareneway.com/gita_chapter_11.htm
This is a horrifying passage in the Bhagawad Gita, part of the Hindu epic Mahabharata.
   

I Left My Country

 
I Left My Country
(translation of  Dex Cher’e Elam-দেশ ছেড়ে এলাম)
 
I left my country to educate myself.
If I could save some money, I’d go home.
I sit on the cold pavement and beg,
so I can return to my land, having learned
ignorance.
Can’t you see I’m shivering, sir?
How about a couple of quarters?

2015 February 4th, Wed.
(translated into English Feb. 6th, Fri.)
Brooklyn, New York

This is a translation, from Bengali, of:
http://thedailypoet.blogspot.com/2015/02/dex-chere-elam.html
 

Dex Chere Elam--দেশ ছেড়ে এলাম

দেশ ছেড়ে এলাম
  
দেশ ছেড়ে এলাম সেদিন, বিদেশে শিক্ষে নিতে৷
পয়সা জমলে পরে, ভাবছি ফিরব বাড়ি৷
ঠাণ্ডা ফুটপাতে বসে, বলছি ভিক্ষে দিতে,
যাতে মূর্খমি শিখে দেশে ফিরতে পারি৷
দেখছ ত সাহেব, বড় কাঁপছি শীতে৷
জেব থেকে দুটি কোযার্টার দেও তারাতারি৷
  
বুধবার, ৪ঠা ফেব্রুয়ারি, ২০১৫ খ্রি 
ব্রুক্লিন, নিউ যর্ক
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dex Chere Elam
 
Dex chere elam xedin, bidexe xikkhe nite.
Po`exa jomle po`re, bhabchi phirbo bari.
T’hand’a phut’pate boxe, bolchi bhikke dite,
jate murkhomi xikhe dexe phirte pari.
Dekcho to xaheb, bo`r’o ka~pchi xite.
Jeb theke dut’i kuart’ar de`o tara-tari.

budhbar, 4-t’ha phebruari. 2014 khri
bruklin, niu io`rk

for a guide to the Romanization scheme used in this
transcription, please see the preface at the link:
http://thedailypoet.blogspot.com/2014/02/bharot-xadhin-indias-freedom.html
----------------------------------------------------------------------
For an imperfect translation of this into English, please see:

I Left My Country

http://thedailypoet.blogspot.com/2015/02/i-left-my-country.html
   

Bathos

  
Bathos
   
It's been a while that you have gone. I miss your presence so.
And whether you are present still, I really do not know.

******
  
We do not know from where we come or know the reason why
We each are born to live awhile, to suffer and to die.
 
From spirit, light and atoms, there is conjured up a soul.
But what, we ask, is spirit?  It is everywhere and whole –
Or so we’re told, by those who might have insight or might not.
They speak of it as essence – that persists. Yet bodies rot.

And surely mind and body each are in the other’s core,
So self cannot remain as such, when body is no more.
 
We do not know to where we go or whether we’ll return –
Or what are time and space, in which the distant beacons burn.
 
And yet, we each have memory – and that, which still is passed
From virus and from cell to cell, as through the eons past.
And so it is, I type these lines and send them out to read
To those who then might pass them on – or swiftly hit "delete".
 
But if indeed the “I” and so the “we” are made of dreams,
The dreamer is, though bubbles form and pop in spirit’s streams.

******
 
If you and I were bubbles, then perhaps it's once we'd meet.
But to the dreamer dreaming this, I'd say, "That part was sweet."
 
2015 January 8th, Thu.
Brooklyn, New York