My horrible neighbor
Does everything in his power
To make everyone’s
Life miserable
It’s like he wakes up every day
With the sole intention of
Doing something annoying
It shows in his face
There’s no joy there
Just a sad broken person
Being rude because
He doesn’t know
What else to do
In the fourth grade
too many moons ago
a reassuring teacher
looked over my shoulder
and said not to worry about
some mistake on my paper.
She said that’s why
we have erasers.
Now a teacher assures
my grandson
in the same grade
not to worry
about his mistake.
She tells him that’s
why we have
a delete key.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com.
I.
How could you?
who was suppose
to forefend me during climes perilous,
be the author of my woes
How could you…?
II.
You, my father,
stripped me bare
and ravaged my glory with hell’s claw
to satisfy your inane letch.
Wicked?
III.
Wirra! Like a corpse baptized
with swaying- dust,
I am drowning in depression,
for the demise of my virginity
is now a dirge to mourners.
Let me grieve….
Sometimes the pennies that I pinch
Seem to groan and moan.
I guess I’m a tight old wench,
I cry when the money is all gone.
The night isn’t silent
there are screeches all around.
Bugs are zapping,
wings are flapping
something is crawling
on the ground.
I hear the barking of a hound.
Enough of this hodgepodge.
I am getting the heck out of Dodge.
I died from a rattlesnake bite
and found myself in line with
other zombies in front of a bank
of elevators, the doors opening
and closing as if by metronome.
Every time a door opened a voice
called the names of 12 zombies
who boarded the elevator single file.
As the doors closed, Led Zeppelin
or Bing Crosby played in the background
depending on whether the elevator went
up or down according to the light
winking above the door.
The rest of us waited our turn
as more zombies arrived
and lined up behind us.
I saw no one I knew except
a couple who looked like
Martha Stewart and Mel Brooks
discussing the future.
Mel was on stilts so he looked
Martha straight in the eye.
When the rattlesnake bit me,
Martha and Mel were alive on Earth
so I had no idea why they were there
with us zombies but nevertheless
I listened as Martha told Mel
she didn’t care which way
the elevator went as long as
she found prime rib and a glass
of Dom Pérignon waiting
when she arrived.
Mel didn’t care either, he said,
as long as he found a steamed
Nathan’s Hot Dog with two squirts
of mustard, lots of relish,
raw onion and sport peppers
hotter than hell and a
tankard of seltzer iced.
Seltzer is better, he said,
than Dom Pérignon.
Ask any sommelier.
Another elevator arrived and Martha
and Mel, arm and arm, boarded.
This time I didn’t hear Led Zeppelin
or Bing Crosby in the background.
I saw Martha stare Mel in the eye,
wag her finger and tell him to try
prime rib because too much
cholesterol lurks in hot dogs.
Enough to kill you, she said.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com.
Oh, this weary world
this suffering world,
where I have lost all
the joys of my life,
I never asked for luxuries to come
but never expected the tempest to come,
Oh, this strange pessimistic world
the sceptic people live here,
only wishing to downscale their friends.
Oh, this selfish world
seemingly beautiful but
not really nice.
Oh, this ironic world,
which seems something else
but gives nothing,
thus ravishing the hopes
and desires of one another
the people feel joyous.
Oh, this nimble world
attracts but attacks at the back
maybe the people will call me unsatisfied,
but the truth is that
the world is made of the people
who are really stupefied.
One kind of pigeon,
one kind of snake,
as far as I know,
puff up, inflate.
There’s the bullfrog,
of course, and
peacocks have tails
so I tell my wife
what she already knows:
Once I become
whoever I am
then will
I love you.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
Because they do not have a permanent home
The birds are always free from the worries of land and property
They make a nest at the time of hatching
The fledglings fly away as they grow wings
The nest too drop down as it rots
As they do not have a permanent home to say their own
They cannot be blinded by the longings for their kins
So they can fly away to reach the horizon with their partners
At their own will
Therefore it’s only them
Who can enjoy the pleasure of getting drenched in rain with with their partners
(Translated from Assamese by Bibekananda Choudhury)
Always remind myself
that I can’t fall in love with you.
But I don’t know when.
I’m already in love with you so.
We are sure of each other.
If one of you and I shed tears,
That represents the reluctance between you and me too.
People who don’t understand our feelings,
They also thought
every line what I wrote was a lie I do.
Now I miss you.
Speak to you in my voice,
Each of these languages has a feeling of love for you.