Saturday, August 1, 2009

Reading deeply into the bespactacled page,
you stare for engravings to say hi.
When you become well read, as goes the adage-
spilt milks seldom cry.

Ostrocized beer cans strew themselves about
smelling for their salts- frantic;
and desperation gets into the bout
to quash any ill-advised brave antic.

Pressurised keys sound their steam
and once state their cause.
Gazing around to catch a moonbeam
they fall over and across.

Years of thorough squeezes
guarantee the cloth its creases,
and only a lifetime of prayer
would absolve you of all your fleeces.

Curtain calls for its daily wage
and you must rush to its glory
Get your share before rushed gets the stage.
People want their chunk of the story.

Dandruffs careen over the scalp
while watches wash their hands;
braces reach for their cousins for halp
and the stick gives sad way.

Leaving the choice alone
the duck did itself well.
Rabbits could dig their carefree way out of stone
but we must chime the pleading bell.

Vacated placards recalled their slogan
as soon as the apple reached the slavering Earth.
Scientific is its approach to a poem
regarded to generate well-timed mirth.

De-odourants cry out for their suction cups
and hugely talented ants oblige merrily;
the lowly ant sat moaning its pups
as its brothers got converted verily.

Saved now, he thought back to those days
of unbridled ends that would always kick buckets.
This man hasn't opened his card case
for fear of drawing crying muppets.

1 comment:

divya said...

Now there's the stuff I'm talking about. If you just get off your lazy a** and write! Nice nice...keep writing.