After the Stroke of the Midnight HourA Poem by pranab sarkarDrunk in a people yet to reach puberty at 60.There was a time when I was me, When voices galore tried to make me see, Things they thought were rationally perfect, Thinking their minds to be impossible to disect.
A surge of satisfction made me feel, Knowing me was no big deal, However, the pleasure of aristocratic company Eluded me amongst human origami.
The sea of happiness appears with a kinking Of my company's hand onto my drunken fling Making it worthwhile as long as it lasts, With a pleasure made immortal as soon as it blasts.
Now having passed the temptations of shoulder blades, Awaiting comfort till the pubic swamp jades, Sleep now, we say to each other with suitable ardency, Expecting a sound sleep before waking to a world of idiocy,
© 2008 pranab sarkarFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
225 Views
3 Reviews Added on February 28, 2008 Author
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|