Winter Solstice, Stonehenge, England. The new moon is dawning — evoking a new love, as the angels look down from their heavens above. It is a time for renewal — a time to grow, a time to sow seeds — and a time to glow....
Author: Paul Rodney Turner
[video_player type=”youtube” style=”1″ dimensions=”640×360″ width=”640″ height=”360″ align=”center” margin_top=”0″ margin_bottom=”20″ ipad_color=”black”]aHR0cHM6Ly95b3V0dS5iZS80X0ZnQ2otVERPSQ==[/video_player] A poem for all the single men who have had their heart broken or have been disrespected. I stand my ground — and claim my rights, to discard all disrespect and petty fights, to...
Elucidating systematically, from a diametrically-opposed paradigm, I opine — albeit — ostentatiously, that your fundamental cerebral faculties, including the Wernicke’s and Broca’s area of the left hemisphere, are abhorrently inept in fathoming the amplitude and luxuriance of this consummate grandiloquent proclamation of unparalleled eloquence. (c)...
a Vyasapuja offering Srila Tamal Krishna Goswami (1946-2002) A Lion Warrior — within Chaitanya’s school, You stood strong and espoused the Goldren Rule, That one and all — should chant the Holy Name, and thus you increased the glory and fame… Of the Golden Avatar...
2012 Venus transit of the SUN I adore the sand beneath my feet, as winds caress on this sunny Broadbeach, escorting sounds — of Mother Nature divine, and my mind emerges from all things swine. The waves crash — upon the ocean floor, as my...
I once knew a beautiful girl — of Egyptian descent, who spun my tiny world — and completely changed my bent, on the things around me — as I walked my dogma path, and tried to understand life and figure out where to restart. As...
The Song of the Food Yogi (POEM)
posted by: Paul Rodney Turner
April 17, 2012
As the soft blue water folds beneath my feet, I contemplate my good fortune and beg not to repeat, The failures of the past in a journey so long, There’s just too much to tell in this very short song. Holding my hands high, I...
As I wear my colander, I begin to reflect, on the fact that my head — now does not sweat, “Oh what a relief,” I shout to the world, As my joy reaches the heavens and my soul unfurls. Like a lovely bud — of...
The Royal Rebel — Rambanita’s her name, recycling refuse is how she achieved her fame. A reliable friend — and rebellious too, “Well, that’s open for debate” says the Boy in blue. Threading her needle to create something nice, adding accessories and love to give...
Jim Young – The Lion Cub (POEM)
posted by: Paul Rodney Turner
March 24, 2012
(Alan “Jim” Young) aka Nrsimhadeva Das The lion cub, he cuddled, and lived a song, of immense compassion — when things went wrong. Ready to pounce and hug you tight, and hear the dramas of your sorry plight. I remember fondly in 1984, when I...