DIARY OF A TRAVLEING CREATURE

18-12-18

[5.36am]

  /r[11/29]

HARI BOWL

baker's hats are quite subime.

sneak a loaf on your head any 'ol time.

one for sridama, one for rama.

one for govinda & vrndavana dhama

baked by monks, who brook no bunk.

BEANS AND A BUN FOR ONLY A BUCK

 . . .

PIONEERS

after mangala arati write some rhymes,

then more japa like soldiers marching in line.

this lends you strength that will last all day.

for go-gopa-gopi we must mark out the way!!

SCOUTS

6.14 r/13 >> naaap!

===============

18-12-19

[5.39am]

  /r[12/28]

My friend in college, Larry Dale, has he gone beyond the vail, said that the only thing in this industrial world that seemed of worth, was the street lights or car lights that were beautiful and bright, even though still contained no mirth.

He was right.

Evaluate the proposition.

Must be an incarnation of KRSNA.

hk/hk...  seen from a distance, airplane lan ding, highway from a hill.

THE TIGER

[William Blake]

Tiger Tiger. burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye.

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat.

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp.

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears

And watered heaven with their tears:

Did he smile His work to see?

Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger Tiger burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?