You were away that night.
I tip-toed into your room
and opened your closet
rummaging through this and that
I found him hiding
behind some old knick-knacks
on the third shelf on the right.
Afraid to speak,
looking scared
in spite of the perpetual grin on his face;
I offered him some courage from the bottle in my pocket
He drank it all up as I stared into his empty sockets
And then he spoke.
We spoke.
About this and that
and we laughed
till I innocently slipped in the Question
and he slipped, replied.
Then stopped.
You were away that night.
You, who will never return.
-Amit
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Electricity? Cockroach? I don't get it :(
ReplyDeleteLOL! noo :D
ReplyDeletejust the 'skeleton in the cupboard'
Not your fault though. Some others read it and so far, i've got 'murder?' and 'photograph?'.
and now 'cockroach' :D
I think i really gotta re-write this one.
... though 'you, who will never return' suits electricity too...
ReplyDeleteHaha I should've thought more philosophically. It's just that the previous few poems of your have been very anti-climactic, funny in the end :P
ReplyDeleteA classic case of shouting wolf :|
ReplyDeleteHeehee :D Quite complex but this one, atleast to me. Maybe I've lost it for poetry I don't know!
ReplyDeleteDon't rewrite! The mystery adds to the charm. Re-writing might ruin it. See that's the thing, there will be as many interpretations as there are people - I thought 'mirror'.
ReplyDelete