Yonder was a Wednesday noon,
The October sky,
Up high
Pastels of blue, pinks
And golden hues
She beamed up high,
A siren of the 50s.
Her jewel brewed brine from
A frail body of mine,
A body played by
Life and her wits
To bits of veil,
Bought for a better marriage.
The heat balmed my flesh,
Melancholy marred by monotony,
I saw the grey craters of a rising moon.
She, a faded pearl of the night,
Masking her golden nemesis of the sky
In beauty, worth, poetry and more.
I’ve walked down this murky path alone,
Several times before, several times after now.
A shack that was once a home,
With no more yellow canaries
To tweet me a goodbye.
My mind grumbled along
The stones on which I
Tumbled,
To balance my youthful body
I immure my soul of its own.
Oh! Longing for a downpour of rains
To wet my body, to whet my appetite.
To slip down the road
And dance away the pains,
To live on this earth
Over the moon!
As my muses knotted along the road
To twisted truths,
Of friends, strangers and ghosts;
Trying to keep my left
Yet, to be reminded
by honks and bonks and the dust in my conks.
To enact a life,
We chose to know
And chose to see,
I chanced upon this small brown man,
Frowned with age, bound with bondage
To a friend that
Slowly feasted on his flesh!
A midget of a man,
Seized at the corners by shun.
Neglect of love, neglect of fate,
Pulled down by the grimaces
Of a thousand faces
Known, unknown,loved and disliked,
That saw not beyond
A receding man in a yellow rag.
He looked like a wild cat
Out of the huge yellow box,
Fishing out a pack
Of unopened rice.
Rich man’s waste, a leper’s joy tonight.
And with the smile of a child
Whose eyes held delight
Like a novice to the fair,
He squat on the ground
Delirious with his find,
Nimbly guarding his small feast
With little worm nibbled knobs,
Which once held, stroked and played
Every face of love!
No more in his world was
You anymore than I,
Glutton gnawing in the glory.
Hands on rice,
Rot on hands,
The eyes that watched him
He uncalled for.
For he, who woke up to a sunrise and
Roamed the streets under this sky,
Unclad feet, uncared for
In the heat and cold alike.
Senseless.
Baseless.
Comfortably numb.
No random thoughts, to play on.
Nobody to own
And to be owned.
A stone for a bed
And the shadows of night
To blanket him.
I, a slave of my rants,
A queen of supposed laughters,
A loud woman who pitied none but me,
Heavily rimmed eyes
Now punched by a blinding light.
The sun finally rose in the daze of
An unsettled mind
to finally realise,
As it sank into the sky
Dropping a mirage of,
What is true?
What is false?
