The Spectre of sex appeal by Salvador Dali 1934
On the right-hand bottom side, we see Dalí as a
child, dressed as a sailor, observing his monstrosity
I misunderstand, tell what is the plan
As I change from juvenile into man
Her formation intrigues and repulses
Instead of control, there are impulses
Her head morphs upon a backdrop mountain
Sack cloth breasts, stem flow of sandy fountains
Solid rock womb, born of imperfection
The spectre miscarries, sans reflection
Propped up and falls forward in painful lurch
Composite pieces, on acceptance search
Ossified limbs, mangled bone skewers stone
Destined to experience life alone
She poses in pain and reeks of decay
I stand with a hoop, brought along to play
Ignores my advances, falling apart
I’ll return with barbed wire to bind her heart
No more cushioned stumps or flailing crutches
Unraveling her knots, where flesh touches
I’ll fashion a cross and burial mound
Existence fades as parts crash to the ground
Parts don’t stay buried, so I light a fire
Warm them back up, on a funeral pyre
My god she’s beautiful, I’m overcome
We join together in flames, curse undone
In the crib, surrounded by your whole family
You're the epicenter of love and attention
Your every twitch worthy of mention...
At school you've so many classmates
Your calendar crowded
With sleepovers and play-dates...
In college you'll live with some roommates
Some will be friendly
Others, surly ingrates...
Now it's time for marriage
With a partner for life
A loving husband or wife...
If children come, in the end
They will leave your warm nest
And give you one final test...
Will you still love the person you married?
Or will you have succumbed
To all of child-rearing's miscarries?
For two months a beautiful young lady had a problem with her period
Her mother bought a kit of pregnancy from the market
And after testing , mother found her girl pregnant
She shouted, cried and cursed
And asked her daughter who was that pig that done to her like this
Daughter took the mobile and made a call
Few minutes later a man came and entered into their home
And told her parents that he is very sorry for that problem
But he had a solution though he could not marry her for personal reason
And start proposing that if the child is a daughter
Then he would bequeath her
Two retail stores, a city house and a beach villa
With an account of 10 million pound in a multinational bank
If the baby is born a son then his legacy would be
With two ternary factories
And 20 million pound worth of equities of car Maruti and Ferrari
If twins are born then one factory
And with 10 million pound bank account each
But if she miscarries how could I help her? He asked
Promptly her father who had remained silent till now,
Placed a hand firmly on his shoulder and told him that he could try again.
Now I wish
...that the chuckles
of a child had graced my home...
...that the feet of a tot
had drummed my floor...
...that the laughter
of an innocent had filled my air...
Now as I wither away
I remember the house
I toiled to build
And tilled to make a home...
But my barren body
Made not my sensible house
The home of any tot...
Now I wish...
...that I was pregnant
in the morning
and it miscarries at night...
For this is not my doing
But a work
Of the cruel friend...
...fate!
Waste of youth
I did not!
Hope I hung unto
Home after home
Place after place...
Yet...
Never did it come for once!
Still... As I wither on
I wish I have a kid
To till my toils...
But...
As I go
None will weep for me...
And all ends
In a waste.....
Now I wish
...that the chuckles
of a child had graced my home...
...that the feet of a tot
had drummed my floor...
...that the laughter
of an innocent had filled my air...
Now as I wither away
I remember the house
I toiled to build
And tilled to make a home...
But my barren body
Made not my sensible house
The home of any tot...
Now I wish...
...that I was pregnant
in the morning
and it miscarries at night...
For this is not my doing
But a work
Of the cruel friend...
...fate!
Waste of youth
I did not!
Hope I hung unto
Home after home
Place after place...
Yet...
Never did it come for once!
Still... As I wither on
I wish I have a kid
To till my toils...
But...
As I go
None will weep for me...
And all ends
In a waste.....
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