(Two lovers)How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears. (Romeo and Julia: Shakespeare)
Love yourself
Accept yourself,
For self-love and self-respect
Are the basis of joy, emotion
And spiritual well being.
Watch your feelings,
Study your thoughts
And your beliefs,
For your existence
Is unique and beautiful.
You came to the world alone
And you go back alone.
But while you breathe
You are near
To your fellow human beings,
Families, friends and strangers
As long as you are receptive.
Open yourself to lust and joy,
To the wonders of daily life and Nature.
Don’t close your door to love.
If you remain superficial,
You’ll never reach its depth.
Love is more than a feeling.
Love is also passion and devotion.
Grow with love and tenderness.
Accept yourself,
For self-love and self-respect
Are the basis of joy, emotion
And spiritual well being.
Watch your feelings,
Study your thoughts
And your beliefs,
For your existence
Is unique and beautiful.
You came to the world alone
And you go back alone.
But while you breathe
You are near
To your fellow human beings,
Families, friends and strangers
As long as you are receptive.
Open yourself to lust and joy,
To the wonders of daily life and Nature.
Don’t close your door to love.
If you remain superficial,
You’ll never reach its depth.
Love is more than a feeling.
Love is also passion and devotion.
Grow with love and tenderness.
------------------------------------------
We speak with each other
A wonderful feeling overcomes me
And I’m touched to the roots of my existence.
As though it was a doubling of my existence.
It becomes a passion
To speak with each other.
Our lives filled with togetherness:
With ourselves and our children.
I discover myself in you
And you in me.
Where one is at home
In the company of the other
And vice versa.
Where you can be the way you are
Where I can be the way I am.
Our tolerance for each other is crucial
There are moments when one forgets time.
We speak to each other without words.
It’s not sung,
It’s not instrumental chords.
Just our hearts understanding each other.
In tact with each other.
Our eyes speak volumes
And a nod is enough.
A wonderful feeling overcomes me
And I’m touched to the roots of my existence.
As though it was a doubling of my existence.
It becomes a passion
To speak with each other.
Our lives filled with togetherness:
With ourselves and our children.
I discover myself in you
And you in me.
Where one is at home
In the company of the other
And vice versa.
Where you can be the way you are
Where I can be the way I am.
Our tolerance for each other is crucial
There are moments when one forgets time.
We speak to each other without words.
It’s not sung,
It’s not instrumental chords.
Just our hearts understanding each other.
In tact with each other.
Our eyes speak volumes
And a nod is enough.
---------------------------------------------
THE TANTRIC WOMAN (Satis Shroff)
An eruption of scarlet flush
On her cheeks, throat
And between her breasts
Became visible.
She wore a silvery satin top.
Her breasts heaved as she inhaled
And said in a throaty voice:
‘I have a vision that all
Men and women are brothers and sisters.
I am a woman with power,
And possess female energy.
I have done Zen meditation with my guru.
Lately I had tantric-sex with my partner.
I felt our energies mingling
As they rose from our groins,
Along the chakras to our heads
And back again.
Wonderful moments of bliss
And fulfilment.
Through tantra I have realised
How wonderful I am.
I feel enriched and strong,
My sexuality has grown.
I had a male admirer for erotic relationships.
Tantric-sex is reserved for my boy-friend,
Whom I regard as my spiritual partner.
Through the healing power of self-love,
I have experienced healing and sexuality.
To love means to let a man be a man
And a woman a woman.
I’ve combed and tied my hair behind.
I’m wearing loose woollen clothes
To distract the youngsters and other males
And hide my curves,
When I work as a social worker.
They all want to have
Body contact with me.
I try to look unappealing,
Though I’m in love
With my body, heart and soul.
I feel like a wise woman,
And I have visions.
In my childhood my father mishandled me.
My grandpa did the same
With a cousin of mine.
Even I was on the verge of mishandling
A female cousin of mine.
I have danced
The Dance of the Demons.
A negative energy
Gets the better of me at times.
I threw my son from my lap
When I wanted to fight
With my partner.
Another time I thrashed my son
With his teddy bear,
A dozen times.
My aggression gets the better of me.
I get wild when I’m angry
And turn to a fury.
Tantra is a cocktail
Of love, sexuality and meditation.
I haven’t embraced the inner child in me.
I’m still working on the polarity
Of my yin and yang.
An eruption of scarlet flush
On her cheeks, throat
And between her breasts
Became visible.
She wore a silvery satin top.
Her breasts heaved as she inhaled
And said in a throaty voice:
‘I have a vision that all
Men and women are brothers and sisters.
I am a woman with power,
And possess female energy.
I have done Zen meditation with my guru.
Lately I had tantric-sex with my partner.
I felt our energies mingling
As they rose from our groins,
Along the chakras to our heads
And back again.
Wonderful moments of bliss
And fulfilment.
Through tantra I have realised
How wonderful I am.
I feel enriched and strong,
My sexuality has grown.
I had a male admirer for erotic relationships.
Tantric-sex is reserved for my boy-friend,
Whom I regard as my spiritual partner.
Through the healing power of self-love,
I have experienced healing and sexuality.
To love means to let a man be a man
And a woman a woman.
I’ve combed and tied my hair behind.
I’m wearing loose woollen clothes
To distract the youngsters and other males
And hide my curves,
When I work as a social worker.
They all want to have
Body contact with me.
I try to look unappealing,
Though I’m in love
With my body, heart and soul.
I feel like a wise woman,
And I have visions.
In my childhood my father mishandled me.
My grandpa did the same
With a cousin of mine.
Even I was on the verge of mishandling
A female cousin of mine.
I have danced
The Dance of the Demons.
A negative energy
Gets the better of me at times.
I threw my son from my lap
When I wanted to fight
With my partner.
Another time I thrashed my son
With his teddy bear,
A dozen times.
My aggression gets the better of me.
I get wild when I’m angry
And turn to a fury.
Tantra is a cocktail
Of love, sexuality and meditation.
I haven’t embraced the inner child in me.
I’m still working on the polarity
Of my yin and yang.
--------------------------------
Writer & poet: Satis Shroff is a writer and poet based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction). He has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Social Science in Germany and Creative Writing in Freiburg and Manchester. He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet. Satis Shroff was awarded the German Academic Exchange Prize.
Writing experience: Satis Shroff write regularly for http://www.americanchronicle.com/ and its 21 affiliated newspapers in the USA. He has written two language books on the Nepali language for DSE (Deutsche Stiftung für Entwicklungsdienst) & Horlemannverlag. He has written three feature articles in the Munich-based Nelles Verlag’s ‘Nepal’ on the Himalayan Kingdom’s Gurkhas, sacred mountains and Nepalese symbols and on Hinduism in ‘Nepal: Myths & Realities (Book Faith India) and his poem ‘Mental Molotovs’ was published in epd-Entwicklungsdienst (Frankfurt). He has written many articles in The Rising Nepal, The Christian Science Monitor, the Independent, the Fryburger, Swatantra Biswa (USIS publication, Himal Asia, 3Journal Freiburg, top ten rated poems in http://www.nepalforum.com/ (I dream, Oleron, an Unforgettable Isle, A Flight to the Himalayas, Which Witch in Germany?, Fatal Decision, Santa Fe, Nirmala, Between Terror and Ecstasy, The Broken Poet, Himalaya: Menschen und Mythen, A Gurkha Mother, Kathmandu is Nepal, My Nepal, Quo vadis?). Articles, book-reviews and poems in: http://www.isj.com/, http://www.inso.org/. See also http://www.google/ & http://www.yahoo/ under search: Satis Shroff.
What others have said about the author:
‘Satis Shroff writes political poetry—about the war in Nepal, the sad fate of the Nepalese people, the emergence of neo-fascism in Germany. His bicultural perspective makes his poems rich, full of awe and at the same time heartbreakingly sad. I writing ‘home,’ he not only returns to his country of origin time and again, he also carries the fate of his people to readers in the West, and his task of writing thus is also a very important one in political terms. His true gift is to invent Nepalese metaphors and make them accessible to the West through his poetry.’
(Sandra Sigel, Poetess, Germany).
Satis Shroff writes with intelligence, wit and grace.
(Bruce Dobler, Associate Professor in Creative Writing MFA, University of Iowa.
Wonderful clarity and good details.
(Sharon Mc Cartney, Fiddlehead Poetry Journal)
satisshroff@googlemail.com
satisshroff@googlemail.com
