Details |
Amit Ray Poem
Otto`s life is not
their British
sickular motto
Grue is his banner
left by his
blue-eyed Brit mom
left long by one of
those hated South
African Paki
His guilty pleasures
in Green Street have
no recognition like
many such Aussies in
mulberry bushes
Yet he shovels the
stake of hatred and
grows
As if sheer pain as
tears digged large
holes in
A pineapple in
search of an apple
lurking in the dark
reality of snark and
disembark
A noir youth
shadowed ,embroiled
and embezzled
So is his life-an
aisle of
resiscitation
Identity crisis
hackneyed into codes
for statistics
they call secularism
His way melds
through smog hogs he
hoggard for heydays
eats grief, drinks
sorrow
Flowers though bloom
on his washed soil
Seasonal affluenza
and again bailiffs
and treasons
Anacronym to London
Bailey courts
No star and no moon
and no jack in the
trade that allured
From marijuana to
cocaine he manscaped
to Spain
Years unheard he
found at last his
identity
Jubilations in
star-spangled
banners
living with his
Andalusian mare in
the city of angels
People who
undermined him once
are now just
emoticons,
mere dissidents of
an earlier
impropriety
Adamant and
spanglish he
continues his
inspiration
from cartrels in
Cuba to brothels in
Colombia,
to escorts in
Dominican his blood
strengthened in the
verizon of Panama
Enter the new duel
from drugs to
bodacious babes
Gringa melones
versus latina
buttocks
though he remained
dormant in all those
fracas
Gasohol stealing
expensive Davidsons
and long drive for
prime contacts
his frarority
Though warned and
caught and
handcuffed and
jailed and derailed
a few times from Sao
Paolo to San Antonio
Unfazed a prophetic
man for some
eveready treasures
he found new breasts
to grab somebody -a
kosher barbarian
-cut-glass
Rhabarberbarbara is
his broken glass
fortune
Women are always
pleasure,sort of
beautility
The Interpol
announced him in
Moscow after a trail
of long bellowing
Mistaken and misled
Beyond every
speculations and
delishful
explorations he
continues
Chillax mood in
Russian vodka and
Austrian redbull and
background Swedish
mafia beats
A highwayman is he
now way away his
breath from their
breathalyzers
In New York he bonks
in those trader`s
stocks
Brunch with Japan
and now a doting
father of two
Beyond every hatred
what started a
movement in
Christianity in
Europe
He celebrates
Thanksgivukkah and a
regular blogger in
diplonomics
Copyright © Amit Ray | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Amit Ray Poem
The augury of him in Crimea was so
That Ekaterina said she was tired of sandwiches
But I did have black tea, black Latvian bread with her black Ikra near Black Sea
Hundreds of kilometres from Kiev and from Moscow in Odessa where heresy breaches
I beated her wings in no confinement,in no vituperation
She flew flower to flower to no destination
She knew I was a drinking son of pride straightaway
And I apprised me that she was a drunk daughter of arrogance having me in sway
At night on table when Putin came with my rassolnik
And said that he had seen many earthquakes being not born a Japanese geek
I felt in my bedroom her shenanigan moves
A carefully preserved time capsule in grooves
Rubbers burnt got her season
and wheels vulcanized got his prison
Dudley Castle and Kremlin cannot be friends
With Timoshenkos pillaging appetites in trusses and bends
Keep your red gown for the right time Ekaterina
For I have eaten all meats-that of a pig, of a cow,horse and bear
And eschew my emotions like a ballerina
A square,a quadrilateral,a rhombus and a parallelogram are not the same when each buccaneer
Vladimirs have always condescended bloody Mirs of Dagestan
In the duel between Russian charlottes and Turkish harems
The fishing villages of acrimony and Satan
I will not count Ekaterina`s eggs for my child`s Ukrainian mother in tandems
Vocabulary used
Ikra-Russian caviar in poetry`s context its the black caviar or fish eggs.
Rassolnik- is a traditional Russian soup made from pickled cucumbers, pearl barley, and pork or beef kidneys. A vegetarian variant of rassolnik also exists. The dish is known to have existed as far back as the 15th century, when it was called kalya
Copyright © Amit Ray | Year Posted 2014
|