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                                  NOTICE
 
    This book is shared only under the condition that it will be copied
    without the removing of its imprints, nor in a crippled way, nor with
    mires to plagiarize any of the names of: persons, groups, systems,
    networks or meetings. Poems from this books may be used for whatever
    literary or advertising end, but after receiving a written proof of
    the author's consent only. No true person is named in the book. Still
    some events, circumstances and peoples are pictures after taking ins-
    piration from actual incidents and persons.







































                        --- Soft Ways of Fairnes ---













































                              by Guha Kovi



























 Conflations and swellings
 of mottled blobs and nuggets
 ever knit.











































 The sylph and I are passing under the giant
 trees and the crystalline ponds directly
 to our retired mansion---our beloved castle
 four our day of first-class, homely and sacred
 love. I Tell she: "All this is for higher hearts."











































 But ironically freezing,
 "For Life"
 is the great subject.











































 Holographic House
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 My lissome mommy and I were sauntering by "Ygan"
 -"Now we are going to The Flunky Home" she said
 and went to some upper level, letting me there, at
 the affluent hall of the gorgeous supermarket
 like a hangar---lofty, mercantile yet delicate.
 So near the elevator there was a bookstand
 stunned I've felt the literary hullabaloo
 of kids, anew, like in bygone sienna morns.
 Sedulous and quick survey of the oodles of books.
 And I have found one that lured me: its cover
 a gravedigger shoveling at the top of a mound.
 And ma bought it for me---We leave "The Flunky Home"
 -"Do not tease others with it" she advised me.
 Again in the street---She entered a store
 spring dusk---I stood lingering for the weighty moment...
 You! I wasn't a cherub neither a geared carcass
 I behold the "Raising of the Houze"
 and its dashes that somehow blended with the flavors of October.



























 Vinya, moppish,
 at the buffet-froyd shop,
 nipping the Pessoas.












































 F       O       A       M       S
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Over a lea in the hills, in the verdurous
 plateaus and balconies, under a sky wise
 of scholastic eruditions, in the midst of some
 singular breeze stands the "Memento of Rebecca"
 it is a golden nub standing in the upper part
 of the forehead and to the west my ideal:
 she's a northern ethereal princess, and I know
 she is a poet, like a secular Polyhymnia.
 She is a zillion years old, although she looks
 like a girl. She, the endless owner of the
 splendor of a bard-goddess. The emblematic
 and serene shaman disguised as a freelance
 under a host of searing quoits that lingers
 defending the small an lotus-like figure
 who is sitting in a lotus posture. He comes from
 the west. To the east one more vortex of modem-
 land, it's the entrance to a labyrinthic underground
 habitat that allows the proliferation of text-artz
 modding* and e-publishing plots. This for the right
 eye, while the left one, crying eyebrow
 a river that enters his ringlets and crawls
 through the summer blasts, it flows up
 towards some isolated mounts which
 are the bases of a colossal macrocosm
 that looks like a sort of gigantic icicle;
 on its summit diverse megalopolis repose
 luminaries issue from its verge ---it is
 rooted in his hair by the idle sign
 of "Union in creation" Parodic and shady
 Moldy kindred ghosts ---for the horizon the gleamings.
 The constellation of frozen firkins read "wAREZ*";
 "zERO-ONE dAYZ* / bOXES* / LiBRARiES and rELiX"
 Sweat is dripping from the forehead ---Through
 the boundary between the plains and the prairie.
 In the cheek: raving beauties of recent
 hairdos and piercings on their fair faces;
 tattoos, too. ---They display top and dresses
 of psychedelic motives and tones ---a little
 to the southwest: the nose, foppish, starchy
 witness of sonnets, haikus, odes and dithyrambs.
 Further to the west, in the right cheek more
 of the fresh drums, this others read: "pD"
 "H/P/V* / cHiPTUNES* / diGiTAL aRTZ" and "jUAREz"
 The mouth ---a paw and southward to the chin
 a female sooth-sayer a female model
 a female religion-reformer ---and here is
 the sweat that falls from the brow, tracing
 it upwards we found a godlike yoguini,
 she is sitting in lotus posture, her seraphic
 Elysian splendor is authentic, seeing her big,
 felicitous aura, which beams ruthful oscillations.
 The true is that the progressive sylph's pervasion
 is unavoidable yet essential, along with the oft
 inexhaustible vista of a new lotus eyed raving beauty
 or like the gone ambience of the environs, the breath-
 taking and utmost gracefulness of the para-solish
       Jesus' female follower...
 Former flau is meditating on top of a vaulted
 rock, and drums: "H/P/V/A" over sharp ices.
 This in the left portion, while to the west
 is seen a comb inserted in his blonde virya,
 not affecting the cheeks that swell florid.
 Lastly, the visage is propped on a profuse
 and shiny wad of chestnut, unsullied hair.



























 Do you feed your catwalk?
 the switch glitters
 wild adamant headways.
















































 Blotto
 ~~~~~~

 One day my posters absent ---Thrown away ---Great drop
 which dispersing replenished my brimming cup.
 Gessoes of evenings mopping that we don't conceive
 nor attend, up to now ---The lotus elf vamooses
 by the level escalator, past the restaurants with
 lobbies where I see the making of hot-cross buns
 on the dangling monitors near the clock and
 the cascades of the wish fountains which bear
 dozen of dimes that the lads and gals have thrown. But
 lets hold this in decorous reverence


         *       *       *


 Playing
 with Brother Cauldron in the kid's library, in
 the Saturday eve when I've found the cute
 chinese or japanese volume of the three
 dimensional, dainty adventures of the lotus
 doll ---Her jet-black straight hair and her lotus face
 among the doll-things of her doll-scaled-house.
 First chinoserie of my life of thousands of them.
 Slapdash ---I brand Cauldron's eye with the soiled rim
         of a toy-telescope.










































 - the mawkish skies and the unforeseen shrouds. -





















 Vachpokes
 ~~~~~~~~~
 The runny cowboys entranced basking they dig the stalls
 and they say: -"An amok on the clouds and of varying
 flights..." Flowing the gaunt, jilted and forlorn corrals.
 Parrying exultant, stagy by copings of yesteryear.
 I have seen the collars and the expensive sneakers,
 cotton socks of Scottish style---the denim trousers?
 higher lapels, to denote a kind of modern veneer.
 Like us, more or less the city's youth-hood tribes
 sects or ghetto-dwells---ragas leisure vehicles.
 I scavenging in search of worthy metals to vend...
 For the air hassocks of my imported sneakers! They'd
 winds of Dresden on the pads, for running faster.
 And series of little islets in a lilac ocean
 The Even Rani and I cuddle, dart and fly over it.
 Crowds go flocking, conclusively a carmine kepis.
 Gladsome and rejoicing synods on ole evenings.
 The censor in his rickety and obnoxious journey;
 Tipsy---Evaporating cinemas, we've stamped on them.
 Acquainted with the jinx bestowed when taking facts
 from a defunct person's life? very original punx:
 I can feel just a sulky ruth for what occurred...
 Secular flies*, meaning with the captious kicks;
 Succulent libations with the calm princess maggot ere
 froth wassails of the iniquity in bacchanalia
 or, perhaps, aleatory uprisings, riots, revolts?
 Sirens of the night raped. A naga Karkatcho has
 fawned---Nothing. Forget it. Leave it alone. Oblivion.
 I saw them! like glazed gauchos in the restopus bars...
 Circulating---Groks of all profligate puberties
 The rabid irrelevance of the arts and the players
 and summers enduring tingling fleabites on my heels.
 Bumpkintrix at the OS---a ping-pong of zip guns.
 Night, bizarrely alone, load and Jason decapitates
 the player, a parade of trainer arts on the tapes
 classics for kids and interactive books, on shelves.
 Who is in the quaint manor of the valley melting?
 Is it the child catsup drinking that could not go to
 the labors day act? Adulate---ungenerous asterisks
 mutts, stately mints. Novel Saint cults and arts;
 Four culled warnings: Grottos, burrows, dens and lairs.
 The initial enterprise is for the green mask
 (Innocent, erratic reflexes of the Ganges Descent...)
 Peptic arts and playful hikes. Petulant---Petards
 The hyacinths pass lull, noctivagant and evasive
 and return---Crepuscular and gritty bygones.
 The universal "cHURCH oF tHE sKATEBOARD" has come
 to us. Spilling we had it---of the type of affair one
 never forgets---Surely it was the season we used to
 slide by the modern and ample streets of our town:
 grim, dusty but super urbane---The edge of the city
 where all is gory and easygoing. The litter gobs:
 the kiosk "Hacha Pukka" the daisies stage, off coffer
 the panoply of notorious, multifolding hypocrites
 yet, with some of the gentle food true credulity
 only us. All in the hills of vitreous barbicans.
 Girding up, viaducts, pagodas and beads---we don't notice.
 "Bearing Ishi---she was on the bottle..." Mad kin Thor
 The bucket was really freezing and what is more,
 more barren and rosy: the payasas of the wayfarers.
 Silaz-Senior at "Blatant Arcade". The glazed spruced
 formidable resounding by countless dazzlments
 calamities---pitiful vigils---the forays and goblets
 of the centriphugalia---the mushy, rhomboid ceilidhs.




























 Slabbing in the barn:
 stanchions of lapis, polymers
 ricochet.































































                  iN tHe VeiLeD SyCaMoReS oF MY TeNDeRNeSS




























 Deep frozen Reverie
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Daybreak - As she dresses,
 she speaks tome lovingly of
 the restored gaps of farness:
 -"...so I always will forward
 the tape till self-denial
 is achieved..." she says.

 *      *       *

 A sanguinary riot begins
 we're putting the jingoes out of
 the way. The sunrise dripping
 a vertigo of staffs, maces
 nightsticks and darts, even
 Quarterstaffs and boomerangs
 fluctuating euphonically
 War cries - drums pulsating.

 *       *       *

 Big crispy pineapple snows
 and sodas - the truffle shows
 and the nachos - the enchiladas
 the cheese boards and tostadas
 the tacos - burritos with a
 dessert of sundaes, halvahs
 or shakes or fruit? and mommy
 is screaming from the veranda:
 "Hey kid! do not forget your viand!"
 the lavish tin lunch box that's
 filled with bagels and flavorful strudels.

 Daymares
 ~~~~~~~~

 After awakening I had to
 make up my mind to defy
 all the obnoxious leeches
 ---Peoples that only fade
 towards abject perdition.
 And who never were, never are
 or will be, not even
 a foe worth of my rage.
 My experience when a child
 at eight, savage oppressors
 pseudo-inside. And paradoxically
 entertaining crack of doom
 in the outside, to relish
 to consume, let's decry:
 The autographed slippers
 in the feet of bow legged
 blistered, abused bodies
 blunt, voracious, twisted
 callous, pretending, emasculated
 multifolding personalities
 occupied in anodyne, pesky
 toils of giving more and
 more and more to their
 vile, impecunious, comfortless
 ugly and nule relatives. Lets
 return them the shameful
 little miseries that they've done.
 Resentful, covetous, greasy
 hypocrite, dusty, ostracized
 like virulent scoriae. While
 for us the beauty and youth
 embraces... but they have to
 be unctuous and controlled!
 their crowded toilettes, but
 I will snub them dryly or
 the blood of their grandmas
 where I sink their mutts
 to new flavors and how
 wickedly gregarian are their
 darned tiny existences. Till
 doomsday and beyond sadly
 retaining their monotone and
 destitute positions. They're
 scheduled disabled for great
 future events that they envy.
 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 For Minerva! At last
 I have noted how others
 abhorred me since I am
 an innocent child that is
 secured for exquisitely
 grateful and ritzy prospects

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 And the filthy chat/
 arrowhead of the golem
 its monkey in the bridge
 praising scrupulous sisters
 is just a wombat excavating!
 It's only a disturbing beast
 with an undecided feeling for
         searing
 charoots of outcast and endemic
         sputums


 Oafly, she falls by the uptight
 dog. We know her unfilled
         animosities.

 Groggy, indigent dolts trying to gull
 it remotely from among the
 clods and other earthly jinx...
 How disowned claimants they where!
 Dragged through the mud, untitled
 Simi and sully endlessly and
 sadly deposed dunces. All
 they've done in their rancor
 of envious impotence will
 be retorted.

 Alas! Their maggot like beings
 will sooner or later make
 them rise in animalia.





















 Ergonomic decks--- Skateboards
 will reform
 and damage you.







































A scene
~~~~~~~
In fays, computers and assemblies
afterwards the monkey duchess chaperone
awakened bimbos likewise---fairies
conjuration of pixies, sprites, houris
naiads, those never burnish it, still they
always opt, win and gather the harvest





























































 The format bless you...
 shivers,
 in the adjacent cornucopia.













































                       come along and visit a wild...























 Hazes
 ~~~~~

 Regarding my origins in the
 modem milieux, I can recall
 I've taken it after my
 first love affair, at sixteen
 all bleak idiosyncrasies were
 forced aside, because of my
 darling, we were very lucky on
 never being caught at making
 love in sheltered spots of
 several public places. So I
 had to forget the girl if I
 wanted to escape, my flame
 was burning vicious and gloomy
 I've begun to take five
 meals per day, the last always was
 at midnight. And in this early
 days I have became robust.

 I've installed some warez*.
 First night buzzing the brand-new whirr.
 At first my attraction was mostly
 for the electronic zines ---For
 they showed me the existence
 of an eclectic, recondite
 scene where the data is the
 life. Poor alienated boy! The
 inspirations this periodicals
 produced on me were large.
 There were nights of garnering
 and opening ---admiring and sifting
 the manifold eldritch glossies
 by the "sWARMs oF oSiRis" squad.
 Or the brisk and intense spring
 night in my pal's house using
 his terminal for leeching all
 the "sAVEd cONCEPTiOn cREATiONs".
 ---Tenterhooks for the euphonious
 compressed e-riches arriving.
 ---Lots of subterranean bits.
 So and so my appeal for the
 board scene begins. Ripped-off
 adverts of my adolescence...

 Exacting a preconfigured
 for the elito-lad's finesse:
 fast e-migration ---My system is
 evolving ---too "uLE/k"
 My first steps as a sys-god.

 The Avant-garde and insurgent
 nature of my first board
 was markedly superior to the
 varied myriads of boards in
 the formal system's directory.

 Nighttime ---sharing environments
 with able beeps the pager yells
 it's Aloha, he wants to swap texts
 games, compilers and editors.

 I can see ---Civilized
 cyber-hobos of the hermetic
 night. Fays, frosty foyers
 sophisticate rendezvous
 for not spending the night at home
 living it at nineteen ---Glory
 the class of improved high life
 that the unrefined hoi polloi
 envy and don't have (never have)

 Going on vacations ---and letting
 the board with the auto-answer*
 enabled. ---Who can figure what
 will happen on it during the days
 of my nonprescence? Surely
 not I ---because I am having
 diversion on the mountains.

 On returning ---The feedback bulks

 Disembarking ---I list ---Awaiting the coming back of
 my crony, the distinguished lotus damsel who is
 the apple of my eye. ---She comes! I witness
 the multimedia Nereid in her unhesitating cruise
 by the matrices and the menus ---Again,
 as always, making a night of it ---"The doldrums
 of your absence and Tensegrity for the topics
 of our chat of deep waters of a wine-dark sea.

 Belles mass-producing in endless
 progressions of their machines.

 On conferences, we brew a homemade network.

 Finally "vISIONARY hOTBEAD"
 The privy and solid network starts;
 with "The Flitting Tyke" as its hub
 owned by the very same
 Sleevy U. Tyke, the renowned
 Consultant and bawdy programmer.
 The twenty-three glacial forums
 of underground, clandestine
 and alternative discussions
 plus portly file transfers as well.

 Bearing in mind how is to bask on folding, tabular
 reeds of the perilous, fluxing non-stop n.u.v.s*, but
 there where n.u.ps for foppish systems
 that were inaccessible; like "hEIMDALL" or
 "tARDY liNK" this latter being "pOLEAx"'s headquarter;
 or the elite "hOBBLiNg cRANk" a distro-site for
 the tip-top releases of "fRiGg tECHNOLOGiEs"

 A cold as marble summer night, when
 Leeching* [VALiD] and <nOYZe> packs..
 Estival auroras relishing
 all the pieces on those bundles
 and how ironic, I remember
 the advert of "hOMBi" the board
 it's an indigo hued face.

 (Workers at the assembly line)

 Walks among yuppie crowds
 in the Bs.As Macro downtown;
 bulky milk shakes relishing
 experience. Modern buses,
 new-fashioned phone booths,
 plottered* signs and compu marts.

 Remote and mellifluous night
 when I saw the two extremes
 one was geeks in the dark
 and I saw it truly clearly
 hedonists in the halcyon days
 was the other ---I mean
 the techies and the e-craftsmen
 sharing skills in a profound
 and precise scene. The lofty
 digital uplands. Memorable
 and overruling cliques. Meet in
 a Friday of assembly ---beer,
 pipes and the gleeful denial
 to some reporter's offering
 to interview me for Sunday's
 newspaper ---The pierced faces
 of the hackers... on tables
 with steaming ashtrays, manuals
 palm-tops, hard-drives and cellulars.

 As for the yearly meeting ---The scener round-up
 crowds of fanatics undulate to the masks and me
 ---the predictive reverie of the night before
 the prelude to the "Alike Panel Scene-party".
 Going and remaining on it for four days;
 four derivative, turbid days of demos display
 gaming networking, sharing and attending compos
 the sack naps ---The familiar electronic duos
 or trios of Dee-jays and singers, performing concerts
 in intimate afternoon feats. ---The skeins
 join in a quick maneuver to put in a
 a shape of Nandisa*, it lasts three wondrous seconds.
 The silver blob that flits through the soft pathways of the
 dangling canals until it reaches the mosaic yards which look
 as gloaming vitreous agoras where the rings of
 bubbles and drops bolt and oscillate. Annulet's outsrip.
 Then we watch the fierce-demo by "fURTiVE bRATZ":
 ---Two boys, denim trousers, go by squares at sunset
 we see them from behind, seeing the, their backs as they
 enter the vicinities of a school, but they stop for
 a moment in the corner; amidst the passing by flocks
 we see a lotus-girl with the uniform's
 jacket that is tied to her wais with a knot on her
 midriff. Her hair is red, her nose is retrouss
 and small, the base of a pair of exotic eyes
 of lotus form ---We are dumbfound for aye when we
 see the design of her t-shirt, in soft runes, reads:
 "aGNES, 1987 AD"
















 Cranky detached brats
 smiling with exultation
 now soar



































 The Straddler
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Weary of straying, greatly
 I sit on a remote diner
 and order a sundae.
 Entranced, I bask and reckon:
 the sally went utterly tender
 by the alamedas and the
 boulevards. Houses of
 gaudy molded fronts.
 The dusty walls were dozing
 smudged with tags. There
 are snowy bronze knobs
 in the gates and doors;
 Effigies and statuettes
 Neoclassical or modern
 styles, but also gothic
 buildings, really somber.
 I was a trifle unmindful
 of the unearthly funfairs
 or the malls with rinks
 and other odd saturnalias.
 There existed afternoons when
 I have taken naps in great
 promenades and other
 days I went strolling by
 ten kilometer long modern marts.
 What is threat for the ghosts?
 The first-run unpolluted lanes?
 The old-hat penny arcade clerks?
 Derisory and wild mles on book-fairs?
 The fat, ponderous laundries?
 Cute grass on inclined parks.
 Automats, pens, brasseries in
 the cavalcade of streets in
 levels of interlaced viaducts.
 The square underway? net baits
 ---A clepsydra saturated with
 rompings and motions of the
 kids and their caretakers.
 Off the populous street zones,
 the environs are markedly less
 crowded, I found a dome-shaped
 and white church in the midst
 of a park ---Sitting to relish
 a bottled nectar I discover the
 Vaishnava motive the parrot
 or (green) polly who enters the
 pine, sort of delectable
 and didactic vision. Ensues
 a jiffy magical, the dryads
 glow and undulate for me.













































 Glory to Krishna Chaitanya!
 Glory to Moon Advaita!
 the why...











































 Virtue
 ~~~~~~

 I can transmute cheap metal into gold.
 I am able to take any form I like.
 I know who I was in my previous lifes
 and I can vanish all kind of morbidities.
 I am omnipotent until a determined point.
 I can interpret conundrums, decipher the
 enigmas, decode mysteries and solve riddles.
 I am omniscient at will. I am the
 Master of the five elements and I am
 Knower of the future, present and past.
 I am the seaScapist, composer of rebus.
 I am able to play with the parshadas
 and I can get whatever I like. Apex:
 I levitate and I am another prophet.
 And I am free from the hunger and thirst
 from heat and from cold. I see the
 subtle weavings between the arts and
 cultures and theisms and technologies.
 I can decide the day of my own death
 and I can find hidden treasures, I'm
 the lord and the motive of tender feminine
 infatuations. I can control my mind
 and I can read and perceive other
 minds. I can hide from curious
 eyes, veiling, but I'm beyond dualities.




























 The daughter of god
 edified me
 respecting the eclipses





































































 DON'T FORGET: TO ALLWAYS ACTIVELY CONDEMN DISSOLUTE OFFICE HOLDERS OR BASE
                                                                   [POLICEMEN.








 Basilisks of Preposteralia
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 As keepsake of memorabilia
 the joyous twilight when
 I have definitely found
 the sleek laser gun, I
 sort of felt myself apt
 to start to ravage but
 stalking and faithfully
 all the types of excruciation
 and the nonsensical matters
 I could see or simply know

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 That dusk the "Ayeeeeee!"
 on my beauteous ideal as
 she saw the barbarous
 backbitings of the forums

 this enshrined sunset is in
 my remembrance - I am sure
 it is for ever so long.

 She made me see with her
 confidant vim and appended
 a discreet cerebration:

 "At present you are sublime
 but together we are stealthy."




















  SPiKES, TANTA AND SWiTCHBLADES;
                               in the faces of vampires, barbarian or swindlers
                         








































  Greenhorn Comrades
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Were good those old velvet morning times
  like a jack bouncing in the seat of the bus
  going down under the noon sun's searing rays
  rolling serene as the city roared
  Sherbets and the harbor's rain
  in whitened squares, spring has found me
          unsleeping
  and the always shore less desert...
  Personally oft smoking, strolling or reading
          on the hammock.
  For the mops and lotus eyes ---Aureole asunder
  (Musters incense, codexes and dices)
  Some punx ho by decaying streets ---Summer
          winds whiff
  the sharp one pointedness of their steady beings
  inebriated with impervious cosmic love
  of incorruption and youthful force saturated
  against the onerous summertime squalls
  Smoking so much in resplendent, beige hued
          taverns.
  Or, behind the scenes, the moonless night in the
  "Ygan Uptown" ---At Marky's house, the long session
  upgrading his system, yet feeling sort of woeful
  like subliminal prognoses of the computing night's
  aftermath: blunt and malefic b-class movies
  How not being deleterious? ---with mini-hare
  besides the sepia and turquoise, neutral seine?
  For my reverie of jilted ardor! ---But before
          unaware
  devastation of Marky's plastic veteran ---a mess
  of little soldierly limbs and rubber ligations.
  And for want of the glazed and bloody skies
  baptism of fire against the armored zombies
  Lacking slimy battles against cruel cyborg?
  (Virtual bones broke on the unfamiliar
          tornadoes
  of the fields) or macerating mutated, haunted
          vigilantes
  Immersed cyber-realities of the youth that
  fights the frenzied maggots, fauns, brutes and
  freaks ---The resultant sadistic mood of almost
  everyone's taste: (in some manner)
  despondent and plutonic and peculiar also.
  And my fanciful doze was dream about how
  I could be watching "Factotum of Erebus" thus.

































































  The fierce flap
  of one thousand fickles
  debased fodder...

























  The Makeshift Entrenchment of the Esoteric Elitos in Exile.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


   We come to the house and the main gate has trellises of a Celtic style.
  To the west, there is a park with stone benches and a swing, a file of trees,
  in round alignment demarcates the plot. From the park to the north there's
  a grove, I cruise it thinking on how impeccable is Vinayaka's deity in the
  middle of it. Past the grove, there is a circular pond, water lilies and lo-
  tuses lie on its surface, forth to the north the glazed greenhouse and the
  hydroponics lab, other grove and I'm witnessing the back side of the go sala,
  walking to the northwest, the pasture fields, the cow's prasadas, and besides
  the crops of boga, another grove is there, in the northern part of the plot,
  through it there's the back door and the garden with its fountain and to the
  North east extreme, the Laxmi-Narayana mandir, also sided by a grove that's
  beside the Shiva mandir. Garuda as well as Maha-Bhumi deities face both pago-
  das. There is a cobbled path that goes to the west, the front door of the
  house is there

  (The M.e.e.e.e Manor)
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   There is a buzzer besides the door of the manor, it has a video system and
  a sign reads "ACCESS DENIED FOR THE LAMOS", past the door inside and to the
  right there is a tube with umbrellas. There are some Panzaponsha posters
  around, with subjects cyberpunks and/or futuristic fantasy, there are lava
  lamps altogether, two and very bulky to be precise. The furniture is an
  hybrid between rave, retro and feng-shui styles. In the middle of the north-
  ern wall there is small desk/altar with two computers. Two sofas are here:
  one in the northwest area of the room and the other in the northeastern part
  of the place. There are two doors and in the middle of them, I mean, between
  them both, there's a shelf and it contains books (mostly manuals of computer
  subjects), tape-backups*, mags* and CDs, boxes and more boxes of legal warez*,
  legal games and there's on exhibition a relic, a TR-808*. The digital table
  is round and low, cushions surround it, and on it several computers lie.
  In each corner, there is a pot with plants.

   The left door to the south, the kitchen, to the east the fridge, the sinks
  and the cooking gadgets: roaster, processor, waffle-machine and snow ma-
  chine. Opposite, a door and another counter, here are the three different
  ovens: the clay oven, the gas oven and the microwave, too. Through the glass
  of the fridge's door we see fruit, curds, cheeses and cabbages. In the upper
  part there's a sticker "LOVE THE ANIMALS" there are two windows and two doors
  by the western door we come to the dining room, the table is round and low:
  around, say, forty centimeters from the floor. There are cushions, a dozen
  of them. The lamp that hangs over the table suggests plethora of chinoseries
  that one can imagine looking at it.

   Through the northern door and the east, going upstairs I come to the second
  floor: five doors are there: the first is for the multipurpose pantry. The
  second is for the salon, the thirds is for the toilette, the fourth is for
  the private library and the fifth is for the bedroom.

   For a moment I stare at the window and see: the swimming pool is there in
  the yard, before the groves. The pool is lengthy, around twenty meters long.
  It's water looks pellucid... crystalline.


    On hearing the kitchen's gong boom I know I have have been called for taking
  lunch...

  Under the window there is a case with Indian style frills. It has shades,
  they are closed, by the sides of the case there are bonsais. I know it is
  Greta's Rukmini-Vitthal altar purchased in Punilla.

   Back in the kitchen, Greta has prepared some cabbages and hot-cross rolls.
  I note that always the hot-cross will be my dearest (along with Vienna rolls
  pao doces, little black buns and even with the creamonas) ---Suddenly the vi-
  sion of creamona nodes spreading with cream cheese and jam. However, no, the lunch is this
  steaming delicious cabbages with the crispy rolls. Drinking nectar. We do not
  talk, but we think together; the subject: how Mukun has tried to boycott his
  post for lit for bANSHEe, subconsciously he has fermented a silent hate for
  bANSHEe because of the crone nature of it, with his r LITS.

   I am digesting the lunch of unsullied prasada... I am in the living room I
  can see the cases with long meters of cables on them. The shelves contain
  cute objects while the group of machines in the table make a really sober
  effect but there are other things around the living room: a camera, a scanner
  a mask of VR and several joy pads and even joysticks but there are also cards
  and tools and is among all this delicate computer components that are so cute
  that I realize how I feel the way I feel.

   Entering the bedroom, the big bed has carvings on its sides. A big tapestry
  hangs from the roof, it's a screen for concealing the high ceilings. The Kama
  Sutra's influence is evident when I see a little table with varied flasks ne-
  ar the captivating and well finished Mahabarata-style chariot. The biggest
  narguile of the house is here.

   Inside of the bathroom: there is a jacuzzi and a latrine, also a bidet, but
  no vestiges of a WC over here. The mirrors are three, of the folding type.
  The little shelf near the latrine has some pulp comics, shamefully. The latri-
  ne and bidet are under the window.

    The sealed salon contains a velvety floor and cushions, there is a com-
  puter, a keyboard a mixer and another synthe. Also a pair of turntables and
  amplifiers.

   In the northeastern side of this floor there is the bookroom, it walls are
  full of books, magazines, videotapes and CD's boxes. The shelves are four,
  with corridor among them. There is a window over there, it is facing the fore
  garden.

  The terrace, the laundry room the same as the ironing room with other (what
  ever) purpose, also with the acrylic-roofed bungalow, which is multipurpose,
  too, it has a sofa and a door that is the door of the toilette.
  Some forms made of plastic ribbons and metal tubes are there, for taking sun
  baths and a rustic, immaculate barbecue, only for vegan brochettes, I guess.
  I do not know how to get inspiration for vegan toasted meals. I mean for
  creating recipes besides the chutneyed veg-kababs.

                                   *   *   *


    Again out of M.e.e.e.e, I see to the right the orchards. I walk by the path
  that surrounds the house and reach the main path again, going to the outside
  of the plot I see the familiar crypt and the crematorium, they are made of gray
  stone.

  The shop
  ~~~~~~~~
  It's a milk-bar, there's a soda dispenser, for creamy ice cream sodas and
  one of it sections is for milk shakes: vanilla, strawberry, chocolate for the
  shakes, and mint, pista and cream of the sky for the sodas. Fridges with
  creamy ice cream of several flavors, and tables with sits.





































  Elysian fields--- stomps.
  the entranced chores
  of the loathing reps.
























 Yace
 ~~~~
 Those tiny blokes with neckties
 in gelid offices, confer you
 revolutions and umbrage.
 I saw the elm, vortex,
 debutant, polishing my tomahawk:
 I saw the shinny sport jackets
 and expensive futuristic shoes
 used by the skillful lads
 who amused themselves savagely
 at our borough's video-arcades...
 and diverse imps of the ignored
 class, too. And later on I saw
 the Slumping of The Unforgiving.
 On rugs of super development
 dainty froth restores
 the cortex of the observers,
 is in the moniker. Vertex:
 "Overhauling the school terminals"
 and always the glacial "NO"
 to bombs and plebeian fits.
 The curses and jinxes will
 take just some swift vials.
 The crimson-haired minx will share
 their maudlin torsos and their
 blue chip yields. I discern.






















































  Elite's crucibles.
  Pierced emissaries
  with snarly tufts.









    
                              MIGHTY APEX
                              ~~~~~~~~~~~


                                 'Em
                                  aye
                                  and
                                  you
                                  on
                                  th
                                  end
                                  is
                                  tiny

                                  Fast
                                  peaks
                                  in
                                  temples

                                  In
                                  me?

                                  See
                                  tantrum
                                  fits.






























2003 - The Prana Expres

Kopyleft (k) S. Guha Kovi










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*** SOFT WAYS OF FAIRNESS - VERSE LIBRE
*** A BOOK BY S. GUHA KOVI

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