I was tricked and set on a blind date,
At first glance we began to spew hate.
Whilst praising each other for appearance
looked every reason for disappearance;
still mustered a poem without coherence.
With his buck teeth he looked a beaver,
for me was a teen, had break out all over.
Between us lay a dead shrimp martyred
especially for the occasion .
In the end we left the dead fish in the bin
shook hands, split the aching bill
promised a venue to meet again
for the thrill.
May be someday I’ll learn to
take a bow and kneel down,
but today is not the day.
Humility is not in town
and has gone astray.
****
And in my defiant defense
I wish to reign supreme, hence
it’s my aim is what I can say;
Word “sorry” is a pathetic misery,
it’s never my idea of luxury.
****
Humility is a humble virtue,
she preys on those innocent
most miserable kinds.
If you are in doubt she can sting
and really come at you.
****
Earth held me strong,
as the Sun opened it’s rays on me;
while the Winds stroked my hair,
a delicate Dewdrop kissed my cheeks.
A tear rolled down my eyes carrying
in its holy grail salts of the Seas.
Life’s worth is captured
in minuscule moments,
which one lives.
No existence is dignified
nor stands on a merit or meter.
The worth lies in
that humble feeling
of being Alive.
I wink at the half-truths with the kohl liner,
breath lies through blushes and mascara
click on those heels when the roads act rough.
Ensemble an armory of every feminine bluff,
and then put on that red lipstick to laugh
at the follies of this little world.
Happy Women’s Day ❤️
Joyful is a human heart
aware that sorrow and joy
are two strokes of life’s art.
For the heart neither groans
nor shows any frown.
It struggles but wrestles on,
the grief of friends who are forever gone.
Heart is a traveller which dwells
in the crowd but wanders alone.
This afternoon the judgment day arrived.
I stood on the weighing scale and sighed!
That limping broccoli chicken is no magic,
numbers on the silly machine was tragic.
Shoved a forbidden burger in bulging belly,
vowing to throw that sucker scale
down the high valley.
With war came the throngs of men
frowning in their military uniforms.
A putrid stench fills the air
whispers and some silent prayers.
Wise village men tittle-tattle
mothers snuggle their calves,
preparing for their next battle.
Haughty men split themselves halves
to usurp the honor that is left.
You my dear love, like a sceptic shock
entered my limbs and gave me a
a wasted kiss.
A lazy embrace which lay stretched
like hollow streets, hyper, hypnotic I ran
towards those sepia streets.
Time didn’t freeze, as it never does,
Yes! Sun will be the Moon tomorrow;
never doubt what the blind women say.
Wind withers on letting her raven hairs
down, making way for that barefooted
dreary dawn.
To descend coyly in the wedding gown
and embrace the Sun and the Sewage;
You and me in it’s sandy shroud.
Sweet grief, come sit with me
relax, recline and rejoice.
I was aghast when you left me
at the dawn for the Sun to clasp
and the hope to flutter.
Sweet grief lie down with me
now don’t stomp or be in hurry
or if you attempt to leave
this time, I’ll hold you by
by your narrow neck and
show you what suffering
looks like, when the daylight
comes and the elusive hope flies by.
