Coulda Been a Contender

Stella I'm calling you, but not from afar
Astara sister, mother, lover
It's Whosis Kimnara[1]. 
That is, what kind of dude?
Stuck on a grey ledge whence a great flood,
Slouching to nirvana in a grey hood
Hoping always to see your smile,
I wanna be your dog and live by your beguile;
I stumble lightly, return from a war,
I crawled from the muck of the Grey Earth Store
Kept Ganapati my friend from his jailer
Met you sister and brother in a dream on the scarp
And the string-tie blue-jean god of the high dell,
In trances found traces of their feet and demons'
In stone, on skies, in time and its seasons
Wearing away the soles of two feet,
The layers of night, that kept what's forever
Whatever is and how it is from our vision
Fettered, but later and lately I've been permitted
With spades and clubs to win diamonds and hearts
And post a soldier's reward at the rampart,
To wrangle metanoia from worldviews with whiplash
And subjugate with yoga, disyoga and good stash
Hear me, I drifted through years of refuse,
Reeling in bloated flotsam of eternal returns,
Sinking old myths' clay feet and what burns,
Fearing the bardos and one more endoblast,
Wanting to end Samsara at last --
Now seeing your skies that go on forever
I'll sail by your sun, whatever the weather.

[1] m. "What sort of man?" a mythical being with a human figure and the head of a horse ( or with a horse's body and the head of a man Ṡiṡ.  iv, 38 ; originally perhaps a kind of monkey; in later times reckoned among the Gandharvas or celestial choristers, and celebrated as musicians ; also attached to the service of Kubera Mn.  ; MBh.  &c.  Source: Monier-WIlliams Sanskrit Dictionary.