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Rohit Pandey Poem
The day has been cloudy & gloomy and the rain is pouring away.
Hot coffee to beat the blues and a cigarette to start the day.
Are cigarettes like a cloud sometimes clear and sometimes gloomy?
The killing stick makes me happy or puts the sadness through me.
Pulling the white and maroon packet, very beguiled and styled
Lifting the cap, taking out a slaughter stick named a very classic mild.
A board in between and two creatures holding up a crown.
The impeccable tobacco gives you smiles or a frown.
I slowly hold her by the waist and start taking some puffs.
Throat fills with cough, and the smells on my hand cuffs.
The cigarette starts burning slowly and smokes slowly start to flee.
As she slowly burns down through the waist and killingly satisfies me.
In red and bold letters the box reads “Smoking Kills".
A zest it fulfils but the smoke in lungs it fills.
I do believe smoking kills, and only hatred & disgust it should invoke.
I will implement it next time, please my friend pass me a smoke.
Copyright © Rohit Pandey | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Rohit Pandey Poem
A new day arrives; I'm waiting for the morning sun.
Rains pissing on me, God must be having fun.
I crawl myself out of bed & move to the bathroom to take a shower.
Sipping on a beer Lord Shiva tells Vishnu, “Bro, do you want to see my power"?
Some songs on my playlist, I step out of house, heading off to work.
The sky goes black and suddenly the rains go berserk.
Lord takes one more sip and says " Bro, let’s have a little more fun"
Let's jam roads from Borivali to Andheri, even if the clock's at 1.
I keep waiting for a share cab for 30 minutes, but to no avail.
Finally I take the Expensive Samosa (Rickshaw) to start my trail.
Rains pouring in, the journey starts at a snail's pace.
It's the Lord's 3rd peg, for his entertainment he made this human rat race.
We climb the flyover or should I say we crawl over the bend.
Oh the road’s on a mend! Or it is that they pretend.
Traffic my love, I hate to live and especially living with you.
I want to kick you and slap you, as I feel your life is overdue.
I look at the share car besides me, people crumpled in their seats.
Shut the music down, this is the time to dance to the honking beats.
This is the everyday saga; everyone is stuck in traffic every time.
Because of it we can't climb the job ladder that helps us make a dime.
Finally I reach work, drenched in sweat or is it the ****ing rain.
Lord's bottle is empty now, and so is his daily game.
He winks and says, “Dude, chill out and just enjoy the speedy life in Bombay"
Tomorrow couple of bro-gods are joining in, and for you it will be another day
Copyright © Rohit Pandey | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Rohit Pandey Poem
Days getting sunny pouring with sweat
Start living life, Stop expecting death.
Its everyday routine, we read daily news.
Sipping on a cup of coffee, giving our views.
Is it a minute passed or a minute left to live?
Let me grasp it today, tomorrow I will give.
Yes the man is still hungry, what would he yield?
Some meagre drops of petrol or an onion half peeled.
Is life under threat? Why do people fret?
Start living life, Stop expecting death.
Iron rods, wooden sticks, which is the city to escape?
Did the girl in Delhi or in Mumbai deserved the rape?
The coffee cup is empty reading about the ongoing slaughter.
One day an old lady and next day someone's daughter.
Let's wait for tomorrow's news with a bated breath.
The ladies were living there lives not expecting death.
Copyright © Rohit Pandey | Year Posted 2013
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