Luscious lips quivering, psychic tremble and tremor,
Electro-magnetic sensations and impressions passing over,
The heart the centre of all
A writer of darker delvings, psychological probe, cutting the ice of the dark layers,
What it happens underneath,
He seeks, re-seeks to define human relationships,
Bodily satisfaction and the quenching of thirst
With Sons and Lovers, Women in love, The Rainbow, Lady Chatterley’s Lover,
He portrays the pictures and impressions of some lovely women,
Bodily attraction,
With the hunger of the body,
Portrays and paints, sketches and presents
With the labour class hero, eloping with the middle class heroine,
He can turn even up to mother-son fixation
And for this he is incestuous and immoral, degraded and fallen,
A preacher of guru-shisya prem, teacher-disciple love.
Had he read Vatsyayana’s Kamasuttra, he would have exalted,
Had he the erotic frescoes
On the walls of the Konark Sun-temple,
The caves and temple sculptures
Of Ajanta & Ellora, Elephanta and Khajuraho,
The worship of the Shiva lingam and the bull statue attendant
Would have enthralled him no doubt
A controversial writer, he is a disputed genius, the son of a coal-miner
Who knows nothing but the body of flesh and blood,
Wiser than intellect,
As the attachment of blood is more than intellectual attachment
And one gets misled, drawn towards
As such is the pull
From sex to samadhi, to say it in the Rajnisite terms, similar the case with him,
A lover of Jessie Chambers, Louie Burrows, Helen Corke, Alex Dax
And Frieda Weekley,
A writer of masculine stance and possessive,
He is a writer of sexual mysticism,
Flesh and blood wiser than intellect,
The pulls and counter-pulls of human consciousness.