Alone and hungry
left leg aches like a broken peg
in the mugginess of its left slipper.
Not a good day for fixing anything
but the sealed and over salted,
the quickly warmed and spooned
that can be mixed into a taste-less medley
with other sundry comestibles.
The pantry,
(a recessed place with shelf-space),
is a dimly lit store for long kept canned products,
a once carelessly gathered and undated harvest,,
a compulsive cartload
that should never have been bought
opened, and cooked
in any company but strictly my own.
In that larder molders a canned fodder;
here anemic asparagus stalks wrapped in tin
are jammed together with diced jalapenos,
or glossily illustrated kidney beans.
Tomato and noodle soups are haphazardly piled
atop of various loosely defined
stewed meat offerings, including canned Spam
naturally.
After the so-called cooking
(more a revealing of a much mushed-up
mixture of misnamed contents),
I sit down with the steaming plate
allowing the metallic aroma to entice
peckish yet suspicious taste buds.
Fed now with the quickly chewed-over
I’m both glad and grateful
that this ten minute feast
can be wolfed down in so much less time.
Day dawns on me breathlessly with drudgery,
Gayless is my countenance to elude the cartload of tasks.
Yeah is only the option that makes me trot with lunch box,
Mayhem is the state of affairs that drain me out and out.
Recuperating with tiny box to resume,
Munndane tasks when everything is drab and drowsy.
Rejuvenating with break for tea and,
Lampooning the lives of others with mediocre actions.
The twilight of the day in the company,
Of sunset stretches for my hand for outing.
Budging an inch by inch with buzzing and bustling thoughts,
Knowing thereby to be in the vortex of life.
Moving earth and heaven to get reprieve of thorn ridden way,
Hoping to make it to stoical life.
That turns to be the tranquilizer of repressing all ripples of life..!!
At the bottom of my closet,
I found in a bag
A brand-new gray skirt
With its price on the tag.
I spotted the slippers
I swore I’d thrown out
And a dozen Clinique* cases
(Freebies, no doubt).
I also unearthed
Shoes from way in the past
And a cartload of shopping bags
I had amassed.
As these “treasures” got tossed
In a burgeoning pile,
I couldn’t resist
Just the hint of a smile…
For in all of that mountain
Of stuff on the floor,
What was missing was what
I’d begun searching for!
*make-up company
Unwanted in Heaven, most wanted in Hell,
He’s the one to whom your soul you sell.
Right from creation, the onset of time,
The bane of mankind, a cartload of slime.
What makes him outsmart those playing their part?
Is he an upstart with an accurate chart?
Using his mind and most tempting of ways,
Never gives up till the end of your days.
Theres only one defence, we all know that’s true,
And that is for God, to truly love you.
Anything less and lifes in a mess,
From the womb to the tomb;
Its some game of chess.
We humans are one lot with a whole lot of weakness,
The ideal group, for old beelzebubs sleekness.
Without a doubt its God’s greatest desire,
To outwit this charlatan and forked tongue liar.
Prayer is the one thing from which you never must tire,
Your ticket to paradise, escape from the fire.
- Prince Freakasso(Artist & Poet)