Friday, February 18, 2011

am

am a morning cup of Malabar coffee
and The Hindu editorial peruse
am that old dilapidated crumbling building at chowringee

am illiterate with computers
but cook great finger lickin' biryanis
and am always on my way to happiness

am page four forty three
the postscripts of Kafka's diaries, unread
and almost all Salinger’s short stories, misinterpreted

am that guy you always feel
you've seen somewhere before
and am not that noticeable in a crowd of ten or less

am inside a cocoon
and i like it here
dark and peaceful

am a full moon on the night
it rained cats and dogs
even the last leaf left in autumn

am the hug of reassurance that is
absent when wanted like hell
and hazel eyes beneath costly ray-bans

am disliked and loved both
without reason or rhyme
am a fake multiple orgasm used to please others

am, i wish i knew you two years ago,
am half made, but left
a distorted paper boat flowing

am not made to love
and i can't love you
like that, you know

but i can write about it,
i shall.

3 comments:

manali said...

like i said,,, speechless!
m.

Purvi said...

:).. I am reminded of my poem.. "Who Am I?".. U must have read at orky.. will post at Fb smtym.. this is.. more close to like.. accepting self-defeat? so many words spring up in my mind.. yet.. maybe I am wrong in deciphering.. maybe.

Pugs said...

I am :) ....