Hold it tighter
Your knuckles white
Against the slickly advertised phone
Your hair cut in a strange crop
You are the model of greatness
When you run with them.
Who are they you ask?
Why, those who love you!
Your perfect abs and hips
Your devil-may-care smile
And all the girls die at the drop of a line...
Come to them.
They will
Feed you the Dionysian fruits
And I shall watch them,
My hair unbound, the way you like it
My face unmoving and strong,
I gave you my all,
And tonight you are strange
The perfect locks of your hair shaking
When your gaze falls on me
And its all there. Its all there in
The precious darkness where nothing else works,
Only you and I cling
In that darkness I call insecurity.
Just noticed you had linked Aamir Khan's blog. He gets 1248 comments for a "i am injured" post. I am jealous.. but then again I am no Aamir.. On a different note, you should charge Dorabjee for publicity , or at least negotiate for free food :)
ReplyDeleteoi oi.... blog dekhish... nothing important though.
ReplyDeleteI confess... Duh-me only understood the last part, but even that felt like TRUTH!
ReplyDeleteLove the way you write
notgogol - Very strange, for the poem was partly inspired by aamir khan's new hairstyle.
ReplyDeleteCliffe - i came. i saw. I shall hit u right in the jaw the next time i see you.
Macademia - you DO know i have a thing for macademia nut-chocolates.