memory wins

would be good to
revisit histories,or maybe
memory collages,postcards,
here's a little one:

boston,
sitting on a bench with
sh,others
called him 'birdneck'
for obvious reasons,
i called him 'sh'
because there was so
little that
needed to be said,
we scribbled in
each other's joinals,
afternoon observations,

philadelphia,
sitting on steps
outside of subway station,
praying on beads,
keeping low
profile out of fear of
ridicule,
don't set fire to one
praying in public,
a would be getting
off work soon,and
we'd walk
quietly home,

ohio,home,
jah visits,finding
productive shifts at
keyboards,
standing up
collaborations,
sometimes like kids
touching bloody fingertips,
blood brothers,i know it,

new jersey,
paddling myself to bed
down in river basements,
make friends with
front porch steps,
psalms there,but
that was after you had
been praying,
'Lord,O energy of the Lord,
please engage me in
Your devotional service'
all of this in
another language,of course,

boston,
temple basement in
skinny,little workshop room
reading with
nitai-gauranga dasa,
satsvarupa maharaja's books,
finding the inspiration,
God-brother connections,
i still want to be
God-brothers,and thank
One for God-brothers and
sisters now,

new jersey,
spending too much time
writing a lot of
nonsense,
talking beyond mine
understanding,
but that's
youth,hey?
at the time,
wanting to skateboard,
be a monk,but
also
be lover of all,
would have maybe said
be servant of all,or
at least,be
servant of the servant,
i say
be servant of all
now,and want to
mean it,finally,

boston,
temple gift shop,maybe
first time i met
dhanudhara swami,
who was
spiritual master many of
my friends aspired to be
inititated by,
he had this
gentle,but lion-like
quality to him,especially
after hearing him
lecture,sing songs,
lisa and i performing
guru-seva,
ironing guru's dhoti's,
i was a mess,got
headaches from
packing incense,

new york,
bhakta chris became
caitanya-bhagavat,
under spiritual guidance of
dhanudhara maharaja,
funny weekend at
initiation festival,
sh and i
no where to stay,
slept in back of
ny devotees van,
reading vyasa-puja
books,before falling off,
secretly fanned out in
mind in the morning,when
norm of anti-matter zine fame
was chanting in the
driveway,
i hid away,no spiritual
dress for me,but
basked in warmth of
kirtan singing,
throw grains into the
sacred fire,
i just wanted to
listen,my ears ate up
every sound,

philadelphia,
God bless sidewalks,a
40 block walk
sounded like heaven to me,
sometimes a and i
walked to nowhere,just
walk and pray,listen,

puerto rico,
watched boys riding
horses without saddles in the
streets,long
stretches of rainy season
faces,
giving Supreme thanks in
downpours with movement,
fruit was falling too,from
trees,in the groves,
tulsi-manjari along the
walkways,
again,
longed for the
pitch-black nights to
gather and sing prayers,
i beat on mine drum,