Friday, January 26, 2007

Doesn't take no crown; Unease.

And this what is I say I fear

I fear no crusts shall be this smooth, no topping this divine
I fear microwaves exploding in my face, mustard and sauces combine
I fear raisins parting with their stems, choking the roof of my mouth
I fear times we suffocate, and pilgrims lay buried down south

I fear the cutlery grimy, cockroaches play and work
I fear dancers ail from seizures and parties when go berserk
I fear the yolk takes a dive, and messes up all the pretty
I fear dhobis will have no clothes to take back to the city

I fear deadpan voices that echo in heads of mine
Mirrors visit other selves; can we really be all that fine
Hamstrings and forests strike a match, footballs taste like cake
Wolves call out to other prey, all senses still don't shake

4 comments:

Mallika said...

really...that sense of unease is contagious...especially..the dirty cutlery part...n berries with stems part..how abt the scratching fingernails on concrete.... ...ugghhh....

Mallika said...

imagine wolves wanting other prey..if i wr the prey i'd have a hurt ego...

Ankur said...
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Ankur said...
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