Monday, January 28, 2008

A Winter Dream

A salty droplet trickles down his brow-
This urchin lives in some tropical land
Where effect of winter is ever low;
His weird frame lacks a tongue-
Hauling a soiled sack on his back,
Brown jaws volunteering an irksome song;
This tune wings in air travelling to some far away land
To land of fairies, land of emperors-
Will princess come to catch his dark dirty hand?
A familiar noise blew away my comatose self
Instilling consciousness by its recurring call
I never showed gratitude for its punctual help!
Reluctantly I rise up in the late morning-

Having consumed another chilly night of my life
I creep out of my warm quilt with a heart full of disgust;
I’ve to start acting like a photocopier,
Have to loop the same circuit again and again-
No notion of which turn is going to be the last.
In my land snowflakes don’t fall like shower
Even in mid January, ice-cold time of the year;
A monsoon land it is, we are inborn afraid of cold;
We take beer out of fear from early December-
A deep incarnation of western hold!
Oh this is my problem with this season
My eyes have got stuck with one another-
A real hazard for a late riser
I need the eye drop now for quick medication;
Problem is intensified; me a blind for the moment,
I can’t recall where I kept that last morning-
Is it in the bedside drawer or the study shelf?
I need it badly, but to whom should I ask for help?
Meanwhile I keep rubbing my eyes
With the restless right hand, wet even in winter-
My focus changes all of a sudden by someone’s
Unruly pressing of my doorbell like a stringless guitar-

I step out of my door with an authoritative walk
I wonder by gazing at the falling yellow leaves,
Bored monotony of cuckoo quavers my feet and
The ominous autumn in mid winter steals my talk-
Defoliating leaves spoils my furry gown,
Dusty breeze furrows my soft shaved cheeks,
I sweat under sun emitting fowl body odour
And my fair skin gets tanned brown-
I panic in sudden transmutation-
A heavy load bows me down to the soil,
My space seems to have changed-
A mirror showed me my vulgar orientation.
I keep crawling down 17, dream street
With a hungry heart to reach the Reality unleashed…


-littleWriter

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank You for Reading, Reflecting and Reverting back!